#even if it was supposed to be about dean and sam (gross) neither of them would have wanted to go back to that night!

[monstermoviedean]

the night we met for song of the day in 15x20. loathsome

[eisforeidolon]

I feel fans should be able to interpret shows and characters any way they want but it really bothers me that shippers die on the hill of Dean is such a closeted bi sexual and Sam is the biggest heterosexual out there. I love these characters because they are extremely toxic and codependent on each other. The story would not be the same with out that. Why would anyone look to Supernatural to be their all time gay representation love story when it most obviously is not. it just blows my mind how out there Destiel shippers are and how much they truly hate this show and hate Dean without even realizing it. I need someone to figure out how we can get rid of them from this fandom...LOL

Yeah, IDGI either. Fandom is supposed to be about just having fun however you want with the building blocks from the canon + your imagination. It's not even the main point that they're hilariously bad at interpretation, project too hard onto the characters to even see them, can't understand context to save their lives, pointedly ignore a million things that directly contradict their agenda, and too much of their so-called proof is actually gross backwards stereotypes about sexuality and masculinity (neither of which they seem to understand very well at all). If they were just having fun with it, who the fuck cares? Sure, it's annoying, but a lot of fandom is annoying because it is so specifically tailored to things not everyone is gonna like. There are other canons with fans who are fine admitting they just like playing in the canon world but not the canon itself that much.

No, the problem is hellers are not content to just enjoy their non-canon interpretations in fandom. They feel entitled to flood any and every tag associated with the show, trying to demand their interpretations be considered indisputably canon fact because ... reasons ... and anyone who doesn't agree with them is A Bad Person because ... they say so. Their ship is the greatest love story (n)ever told, the best representation evar in media! It's the only important thing about SPN - and if they couldn't change the canon, they can change the fandom narrative! The fact there's actually no there there under their overblown thousands upon thousands of words of inept meta is why the very suggestion it's not canon, that someone doesn't see it as the greatest thing ever, that maybe Dean is actually just a heterosexual instead of putting on an elaborate performance of one or even that Sam might not be the straightest character ever written? Is taken as an attack upon their self-declared status as the real main audience. Which makes sense, because they never were. SPN was anything but subtle as to what its actual focal relationship was.

To some extent I get how they echo-chambered each other into believing their ship was/would be a thing in canon. If you just look at the size of the piles on piles of cherry-picked nonsense they accumulated over the years without actually engaging your brain to see how variously flimsy, out of context, or how many other more sensible interpretations there were for any of them? If you wanted to believe and surrounded yourself with others who did, too, and kept talking each other up, spending way more time doing that than watching the show? It's no wonder some of them ended up with really skewed expectations.

What I don't get is how they're still going this long after the show ended. SPN is over and there's no more 'Well, next season for sure!' to promise themselves. There are increasingly more stories out there now in a variety of media which are centering deliberately, openly LGBT+ characters and relationships they could invest in championing! Hell, just saying screw canon and burying themselves in writing their idea of "better" fanfic is a perfectly reasonable way to deal with disappointment, no matter how self-inflicted. Instead, they're still here making up elaborate conspiracies about how SPN was something other than what it blatantly obviously always was - because admitting they were wrong and the only thing they ever liked about it was their own OOC fanfic very, very loosely based off of it? Well, that's more than a bit embarrassing in light of how long they spent campaigning and how vehement they were about it totally being not just A Thing but The Most Important Thing Ever. So I don't know what would actually get them to move on, they clearly love being miserable and wrong and pretending to be martyrs over it far too much for me to comprehend.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 34

Hunted/School Reunion

"Hunted"

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: Yes. I am not one of the yellow eyed demons special children, so...I'm solid

GOOD. We're finally getting what John told Dean before he died, but Sam should have been told...I mean, this is episode 10 of this season. that happened in 1. At the same time...because I'm apparently a Dean apologist for life, I can't imagine being told that you might have to kill the one person you've spent most of your life protecting. That if you fail to save them, YOU are going to have to kill them. That's gotta mess you up.

Oh shit. Blood splatter on the camera and everything. Poor girl having visions of Sam dying in an explosion.

We're also getting a little closure on the John got Ellen's husband killed during a hunt thing, which is also nice to see get brought back again, that hasn't just been dropped. All these fissures in what's left of these families is really sad to see

(Ohhhhhh, the girl who plays Ava was also Margot in Hannibal, that's where I've seen her)

Ellen had every opportunity and right to be petty about letting Dean know where Sam was, and I'm sure glad she didn't take it. I might be a Dean apologist, but something about Ellen being able to dangle that over him (though I don't exactly think she would, but she COULD) is excellent

Ava's so real for her reaction to all this. "Please just leave town before you explode!" "I'm supposed to be addressing my wedding invitations but I'm here trying to save your weirdo ass" She's precious af and must be protected. And...I fear that means she's probably gonna die.

Oh. When they said "Hunted" they meant HUNTED hunted. I like Gordon less and less...

Dean believing Sam died, however briefly...this first time, it's gonna hurt like hell.

Bet he thought "It's Sam." sounded really cool. It didn't, Sammy.

This is a fucking terrible look...and it feels really really gross. They really should have cast a different actor for Gordon. I'm not even defending Gordon here, I don't like him or his actions. I understand he plays an important part of this portion of the story this show is telling. But you can have a hunter that's gone rogue, that's turned more than a little twisted in their pursuit of the monsters they all face, and ALSO not have it supposed to be a sort of jokey thing that the conventionally attractive, young white leads call the cops on a black man in the southern US

And I don't like how we do get the first "Bitch" "Jerk" while I'm feeling this sour on them...

Guess...uh...guess Ava's wedding's off 😓

"Been On My Mind...": Dean asks near the end what's the point of doing this job if it can't get you laid, but bestie, I've been keeping score, and neither of you have been scoring...

"School Reunion"

*chanting* Sa-rah Jane! Sa-rah Jane! SARAH JANE!

Also, I know most people know this dude as what's his face from Buffy, but he's Uther Pendragon to me.

SO, physics. Physics, eh? Phyyyyyyyyyyyyysics...best way to start a class that will definitely get the student's to trust you and believe in your ability to teach.

What's your beef with "correctamundo," Doctor? It's fun.

This school is fucked up as hell. What on earth.......the lunch ladies are funny though

OH. The Doctor's face when he sees Sarah Jane...my heart melted. He's just so happy to see her and he's so PROUD. My heart literally can't handle it. We need to get back to the creep af shit going on at the school to restore function to it

HE LET THAT KID LIVE? I was convinced...

I can't even imagine what it must have been like for her to see the TARDIS again after all that time

The immediate jealousy, Rose...after what you two got up to between New Earth & Tooth and Claw?? Come on...I can't wait til they start making fun of the Doctor together

Honestly...Mickey getting to get one in on the Doctor every once in a while is nice to see. Also, I'm with Mickey, I'd also never be going in that school again

Look, I know that Smith is a common last name, but three of the four people on screen have introduced themselves with the last name Smith. Find another last name, writers

But, Rose, it's K-9!!!

Sarah Jane still feeling that abandonment after all these years is truly heartbreaking. But it's something I have been thinking about during this rewatch. Truly nothing could compare to the time you spend with the Doctor, whether you're romantically entangled or strictly platonic. Rose knows it, Sarah Jane knows it, Donna will eventually get her "but I was going to be with you forever." And I honestly cannot decide whether it's better to have traveled with the Doctor and have to stop or to never have the opportunity at all.

OMG He's also Hercules Shipwright!!! HOW COULD I FORGET??? When he's talking to the Doctor at the pool, it's all I could HEAR! Half expected to hear him say "What a ridiculous dog" (though if he said it about K-9, I'd slap him) or express a never ending fear of sheep

Truly, I adore this kid who has a terrible attitude and who solves everything for the Doctor and crew. Amazing. He and K-9 were the true heroes of the day.

With every passing episode, I'm more and more convinced of that post. Rose and the Doctor can't do anything with Mickey on board now

Ok if my heart couldn't take the Doctor seeing Sarah Jane at the beginning of the episode, it DEFINITELY can't take her having to beg him to actually say goodbye this time.

[and-stir-the-stars]

the way dean found out about angel killing bullets and said "cool" right in front of cas, like no wonder cas felt unloved, this man made no effort to hide his disdain for angels even though the guy he claimed as a best friend was an angel.

i know, it's literally disgusting. and then he and sam brought in a large group of people who hated angels with everything they had into castiel's home, the place where he was supposed to be safe, without a single concern for castiel's safety or even bothering to ask cas if he was okay with it. i feel for the au!refugees and their stories, i really do, but they could have easily outnumbered and killed cas, or on the tamer end of the spectrum verbally abused him and made him feel unwelcome in his own home, and neither sam or dean ever even bothered to consider this. it drives me insane. sam and dean are always surrounding themselves with people who hate angels, they give out angel blades and anti-angel sigils-- weapons that could hurt and kill cas and other innocent angels-- without a thought, and they never even try to mask their hatred of angels in front of him for his benefit. it's just. it makes me feel so gross and upset.

cas deserved better. they never even put in a single effort to learn about his native culture, family, or home. they never stop to make the angel parts of him feel loved, and they only make the angel parts of him feel valued when they need a weapon; otherwise, the only thing they ever do is insist that he act more human-- actually, more like them specifically.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Smith & Smith

There are a few things everyone knows at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc.

The coffee bagels are inedible, Adler will fake-fire someone on your first day, and you do not hit on Dean Smith, Senior VP.

(Not that Sam wants to - gross. But apparently it's salient information, because it's the third ever text message Gabriel Milton (HR) sends him. Maybe because he'd just joined as Smith's intern, Sam reasons. Well, to hell with stereotypes. Smith is going to be nothing more than a boss - or mentor, if he'd so be willing; Sam's heard of him, and he's kind of a genius after all. That's it.

Plus, Sam's in love with, and engaged to a nurse thankyouverymuch.)

And in any case, it's not like he'd needed a memo.

Smith is obvious enough.

Obvious, with his packed lunches and secretive screensavers. Obvious, in the way he unfailingly redoes his hair before leaving, cause he's "picking Cas up first" - and with his bright smile on Mondays, because "Cas only has Sundays off".

He grins non-stop, the half hour before lunch, and then spends it holed up in his office entirely - and if Sam returns early from his own break, he can't not catch the unicorn laughs emerging from there, glass walls be damned.

Once, in fact, a package got misdelivered, and Sam returned from lunch to a bouquet on his desk, labelled on a recycled paper card with a pickup line so ridiculous - wordplay on 'honey', in fact - that it almost verified the domesticity singlehandedly.

Dean Smith is married.

There can be absolutely no other explanation.

*

As days pass, Sam's workload increases, but he's learning what he's here to learn and is grateful for it.

He also notices him and Dean grow into a friendship of sorts - finding common ground in football, not liking pineapples on pizza, and having a Navy dad - and just like that, mentions of the latter's wife start coming up more casually.

Nothing unprofessional, or overshared - just a, "you know who eats burgers like no one's business? Cas." When he brings Sam a couple of burgers back after an assignment runs late into his lunch break - or even a, "Cas's brothers are dicks," when Sam goes into his office to submit a report from Sales, and finds him, as he rarely does, texting.

As long as Dean isn't dismissive of the work Sam puts in, and he never is, Sam's fine with it. To be honest, it's kind of refreshing to see a guy be a total goner for his wife. And he is - Sam can tell from his heart eyes, if not the fondness that envelopes his voice whenever he speaks of her.

It makes him happy as well, cause he's worked here about five weeks now, and it's enough to see that Dean deserves to be as happy as 'Cas' makes him.

All things considered, Sam's definitely getting used to it.

Until one friday, when Dean shows up at nine am and declares that Cas will be picking him up today.

"There's a strike at the library."

"I see." Sam returns, eyebrows raised.

"Isn't that ridiculous? Libraries going on a strike?" Dean grins. "It's like, you know, a book-march."

Sam fights the whelming urge to bitchface.

"Stop that." Dean swats at the air. Sam hasn't said anything, so he bites his cheek. "You're basically dying to roll your eyes. Friggin' take my jokes for granted." Sam shakes his head, suppressing a smile. "No, seriously. Go on, do it. Didn't stop Cas either."

At that, Sam breaks.

Mirrors Dean's grin from before he'd put on the mock-offended glare, and Dean soon joins in.

"I'll just save my fantastic sense of humor for later."

"For Cas?"

"Nah, someone who can appreciate it -" Dean cuts himself short. "Hell, who am I kidding? Yeah, for Cas."

Sam grins wider.

"I'll be leaving at five today." Dean informs him, before disappearing into his office. Seeing as the office hours are nine to five in the first place, that isn't off the norm, but since Dean finishes late almost regularly, it's probably worth pointing out.

This way or that - Sam knows he's going to be waiting for it to be five almost as eagerly as Dean.

He's heard so much about this woman. There's almost an air of mystery surrounding her at this point. All the facts Dean's ever dropped are cloaked with something close to fictional, because Sam doesn't know her at all.

And now he's finally going to meet her.

It's not like all he does, the entire day, is think about it. But it does make writing the reports for, and inputting April 2020's data into the server that much more of a fast process - since time flies until it's five.

And then, relatively, decides to stop.

Sam stares at the elevator.

He's done with his day - prepared to leave after Dean does, though definitely not before.

Waiting, he realizes, that he's formed something of a mental image. She's blonde in his imagination - probably a generic 5'5 or 6. Blue-eyed, cause Dean's mentioned that at least twice. And not to be creepy, but he assumes she'd be pretty too, cause his boss isn't exactly what he'd describe ugly.

So without meaning to, Sam's got an eye out for someone who fits the mold.

First man in, at two past five, is short and stocky. Second is Mrs. D'souza, a receptionist on the seventh floor.

Third and fourth are interns.

Fifth is a trenchcoated guy, squarer than Sam, with a wonky tie.

Sam sighs.

It's almost ten past five - and tardiness really isn’t his thing. Or Dean’s, for that matter. Staring intently in the direction of his elevator, he’s about to start getting righteously annoyed on Dean’s behalf when there’s a tap on his shoulder.

Sam swivels in his chair, taken by surprise - and slowly, his eyes widen.

Dean’s arm is slung about the fifth guy’s shoulders, grin directed entirely towards him. And he - Jesus, he - is six feet tall, trenchcoated, and wearing a tentative smile as he looks down at Sam.

Blue eyes complete the picture - plus a five o’clock shadow which never came up - and Sam’s head reels as he finally pieces everything together.

“Dean!” He exclaims, and it must count as a greeting, because it can’t really count as oh-my-god-Cas-is-a-man.

“Hey!” Dean beams. “Figured you should meet Cas.” And turning to Cas, “That’s Sam. My prodigy, basically.”

The heart-eyes have never been more obvious. 

Sam’s an idiot.

He can’t even grin like he’s supposed to - earning himself half an eyeroll form Dean - because he’s trying to figure out how he hadn’t figured it out yet.

“It’s good to meet you, Sam.” Cas says - and the fact that it’s the lowest he’s ever heard a voice go, makes him refocus enough that he can respond.

“You too, Cas.”

Dean’s still beaming, and finally, finally caught up with himself, Sam grins back.

He’s an idiot.

Cas just smiles wider.

(Well, one thing he got right. He’s definitely pretty. But measured against a scale of everything else he got wrong - there’s a long way to go.)

“Okay so,” Dean declares, far more chipper than usual. Someone could just’ve painted smitten across his face, really. “We should go. You probably guessed this but Cas isn’t the biggest fan of where I work.”

“You have a treadmill desk, Dean.”

“And I don't see you complaining about my stamina.” Dean throws back, and their eyes lock in a silent stare - heavy enough, that neither notices Sam looking away as subtly as he can. He’s not really supposed to witness them flirting - misdelivered packages asides.

Thankfully, the stare-off breaks when Cas points out that they were leaving.

And to the backdrop of Dean grumbling about Cas’s hatred for his job, Dean puts on his overcoat - well, he hands Cas his briefcase so he can properly do so, and then Cas just holds onto it - and they say their goodbyes to Sam and take off, walking close enough to brush arms all the way to the elevator.

Once they’re out of sight, Sam slumps in his chair, scrubbing his face with an incredulous laugh. 

Of course Dean Smith is married. And of course, Cas is his husband.

[ejlovespie]

You Give Me Strength

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: A hunt gone wrong puts Dean and the reader in danger. When the reader gets severely injured, Dean is there to help her recover.  (angst & fluff)

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1860

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Torture/Near Death Experience

Reader’s Request: Can I pleaaase request a dean x reader angst/fluff/near death one shot where the reader and dean gets captured by vampires or demons during a hunt gone wrong and the reader keeps talking back to them to piss them off so she can distract them from hurting dean which results in her getting beaten up in front of him and severely injured while he gets all protective and worried. 

A/N: This was my first reader’s request and I am stoked about it! Thank you Anon! This was so much fun to write so I hope you like it! Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

As far as you could tell, you were in the basement of an abandoned building. The smell of mildew filled your nose and occasionally you would see something skitter across the grimy floor. Gross. About a yard away, there was a crack in the ceiling that was slowly dripping water into a little puddle. The drip drip sound was driving you crazy so you re-directed your attention to the room around you. The only light came from a few candles on a table where a knife and a bowl sat. You and Dean were both handcuffed to beams in the middle of the room, far enough a part where you couldn’t reach each other. You were also too far away from the table or anything else that you could grab to use as a weapon. You sighed. This was supposed to be a routine hunt; nothing that you and Dean couldn’t handle. Unfortunately, the demons you had been tracking had got the drop on you. One minute you were both walking down the street and the next, you felt a pinch on your neck and you had lost consciousness within minutes. 

 Dean still hadn’t woken from being drugged. You had called his name a few times, trying to wake him but he didn’t stir, just continued to breathe in and out in a steady rhythm. You sat there for what felt like hours before the sound of a door slamming behind you made you jump. You heard footsteps as someone walked into the room and you tried squinting into the dark to see. After a moment, a man walked over to Dean’s slumped form. You yelled at him when his foot came out and he kicked Dean’s leg. Ignoring you, he bent over and stuck a needle into Dean’s neck. You cursed and yelled again but were cut off when Dean suddenly startled awake. He sat up in a panic, his eyes wild and angry, and growled when he saw you. The man had walked over to the table in the center of the room and was picking up the knife. Shit. You could his eyes now; they were pitch black. Demon. You tugged at your handcuffs again, trying to figure out a way out of this situation. 

 The demon noticed you struggling and laughed as he walked over to Dean, who was glaring at him. His black eyes turned to you and he smiled before he took the knife and slowly started to dig it into Dean’s collarbone. You screamed as Dean groaned in pain and the demon laughed. In this situation, you had no way to help Dean except to distract the threat. You had to make him focus on you instead. You didn’t think before you started cursing and yelling at him, trying to goad him into walking away from Dean. 

 “Hey! Leave him alone you black eyed bastard!” 

 The demon ignored you and you started to panic when he brought the knife up to Dean’s face. You kept yelling, more desperate now. 

 “Why don’t you bring that over here bitch! Better yet, how about you let me out of these cuffs so I can kick your ass?”

 The demon straightened and turned to face you, a huge, evil smile on his face. He sauntered toward you as Dean hollered at him to leave you alone. Hearing the worry in Dean’s voice, you sent him an apology in your mind. You gritted your teeth and braced yourself when the demon crouched in front of you. You watched as he blinked and blue eyes looked you over. You weren’t expecting the soft touch of his hand on your cheek. You flinched and turned your head away from him as he laughed again. 

 “Well, aren’t you a feisty thing. You can’t be patient and wait your turn? That’s fine. I will just torture you and let your boytoy over there watch.”

 You heard Dean yelling again as the demon smiled and brought the hand on your cheek down to your chin. His thumb rubbed at your dry lips for a moment before he leaned toward you, close enough to kiss you. You reacted. In a sharp movement, you crashed your forehead to his, and kicked out with your legs. You were hoping he would drop the knife and you could grab it or kick it to Dean somehow but the demon just reared back and slapped you hard across the face. Your cheek burned and you were seeing stars but a laugh tore from your throat. The surprised look on his face made you laugh even harder. You stopped laughing when the demon’s eyes turned black and fury contorted his face. He snarled at you, 

 “You’re going to pay for that you little bitch.”      

 In a rage, the demon slapped you across the face again and then stood and kicked you hard in the ribs. You cried out in pain as he continued to kick you three more times. On the third blow you felt a rib crack. You could hear Dean screaming and fighting against his restraints. You also heard the drip drip, dripping from the ceiling. You tried to keep your breathing even and deep but you were struggling to breathe through the pain from your rib. The demon crouched back down at eye level with you. Looking back at him, you smiled and taunted him further. 

 "You hit like a bitch." 

 Once again, the demon slapped you across the face so hard that your lip split. You could feel the blood trickle down your chin. The demon pulled the knife out and held it in front of you to see. With a taunting expression he said, 

 "You should have kept your mouth shut. Now, I'm going to have fun carving you up real slow before I cut your throat and bleed you like a pig." 

 Drip Drip

 He plunged the knife into your leg and you screamed in pain. With a twisted smile, the demon pulled the blade out of your leg, causing you to scream again. He repeated the move with your other leg. The pain was making you dizzy and you tried to focus and stay conscious. You heard Dean now begging the demon to leave you alone and it broke your heart to hear it. Be strong Dean, you thought to yourself.

Drip 

Looking down, you saw blood everywhere but it didn't look like the demon had severed an artery. You gritted your teeth and focused on his face, internally chanting to yourself to not pass out. He smiled at you again before bringing the knife close to your throat. The knife tip touched your skin and the demon made a shallow cut across it. You weren't sure if it was the blood loss or if you were going into shock but you didn't feel pain. You just felt the blood running down your neck and over your chest. You heard a loud crash behind you accompanied by a new voice. Sam? Your vision was starting to blur, blackness creeping in the corners of your vision. You tried to turn your head, to see what was happening but you couldn’t focus anymore. You heard gunshots and the sounds of a fight going on behind you when suddenly everything was quiet and Dean was by your side. He was taking your handcuffs off and telling you to hold on, to stay with him. He was gingerly lifting you into his arms. You tried to stay awake; to tell Dean that you were sorry but darkness pulled you under.     

                                                        -

When you woke, you were lying in a hospital bed. Your head was fuzzy and every part of your body felt numb. You squinted at the window where bright sunlight shone through. Dean was sitting there under the window, sleeping with his head on his arms. His large, calloused hand resting on yours on the bed. You weren’t sure how long you lay there, watching him sleep, but eventually you joined him, drifting off peacefully.   

You were only in the hospital for a few days. Although you had lost a lot of blood, you didn’t have any permanent damage. You had a cracked rib, possible nerve damage in your legs, and some scarring on your throat. The doctor said you were lucky; you could have bled out and died if you hadn’t made it to the hospital as fast as you did. You were finally home, back in the bunker, and lying in your own bed. Dean had been mad for the first few days, telling you off for what you did and threatening you if you ever pulled a stunt like that again. You had just smiled sweetly and batting your eyes said, 

“I couldn’t let him touch your pretty face Dean. That would be a crime against humanity and women everywhere would have mourned the loss.”     

 Neither he nor Sam found that as funny as you did. Regardless, Dean’s anger had faded and now he was constantly fussing over you. He hadn’t left your side since the hospital. He had carried you, helped you bathe, wrapped your ribs, and changed your bandages on your legs and neck. He sat with you in bed all day, everyday, watching movies, reading, and playing cards. He was so focused on you and your comfort that you had started to worry about him. You told him you would be fine on your own but Dean had refused to leave; he insisted on taking care of you. It was sweet. This big man, a badass hunter, being so gentle with you made your insides all warm and gooey. 

You were both lying in bed now and the wounds on your legs itched like crazy. In the healing process they had started to scab over and no lotion or creams helped. Scratching at your bandages, Dean scolded you before gently grabbing your wrists to keep you from scratching. You groaned in response and he chuckled. Your wrists were still in his hands and he brought them to his lips. Placing kisses on your knuckles, he said, 

 “You know you can’t scratch at them baby...Maybe I could distract you though.”

You giggled when he leaned into your neck and kissed you, the contrast of his scruffy face and soft lips giving you goosebumps. Dean kissed your neck before moving on to kiss your chin and then placed a longer, warm kiss on your lips. Kissing him back, you sighed feeling happy and content. After a few minutes, he pulled away from you and grabbed your hand. With a serious look, he turned to face you and asked, 

“Promise me you won't do that again. Never put yourself in harm's way to protect me. I...I can’t lose you Y/N. I love you.” 

His words tugged at your heart but you argued, “I can’t promise that Dean. I will always fight for you. The way I feel..I don’t know. It’s like you give me strength. I would do anything to protect you.” 

Dean placed a soft kiss on your temple before murmuring, “Then I will just have to keep you here where we’re both safe.”  

Dean Tags:

@akshi8278

[janicho88]

Falling For You - Part 1

Pairing- Dean x Lisa(past),  Female!Reader x OMC Justin(past), Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count-3019

Warning- Mentions of cheating, slight angst. This is going to be a bit of a slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU, and un beta’d.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door.  Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to. 

Series Masterlist

  It had been a long day at work and you just wanted to get home to your couch, although you knew that would have to wait.  The apartment needed some cleaning, and you needed to wash laundry too. You had put it off, work keeping you busier than usual the last 2 weeks, and you really should go hit the gym.  You had been slacking there too. 

The elevator was being inspected when you walked in the building so you had taken the stairs  Reaching your floor you were surprised to find a man standing in front of your door continuously knocking.  Slowing walking over you looked around, no one else seemed to be near.  Knowing the time, your neighbor across the hall, Jess was probably on her way home from work, you weren’t completely certain about her fiancé though.  The other two apartments on this level kept to themselves. 

“Hi, Can I help you?”  You cautiously asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

The greenest eyes you had ever seen turned to look at you with a grin forming. “Thanks, but I’m just waiting for my brother to let me in, unless you want to give me your number for later?”

“I’m good thanks, but why is your brother letting you in there?”  You didn’t get any danger vibes from this guy, so you weren’t too worried about standing here talking to him yet.

“Well miss nosey, it’s because he lives there.”

“I don’t think he does.”

“Really, and how would you know anything?”  The man back to pounding on your door.

Before you could respond Jess’ fiancé Sam came running up the steps sweaty from his evening jog.

“Dude, you weren’t supposed to be here till tomorrow, and why are you blocking Y/N’s door?”  Sam unlocked his door across from you and went to hug his brother.

The man backed away from him, “Seriously man? You’re sweaty and gross, shower first. I needed to get out of there, and traffic on the way up was pretty light.  You told me you and Jess were 44.”

“No Dean, I told you we were 43. We live on the fourth floor in the third apartment number 43.  You weren’t listening,”  Sam turned to you still unable to get into your apartment.  “Sorry Y/N, this is my older brother Dean.  He just got up here from Kansas, he’s staying with us for a little while.  I’ll get him out of your way,”  He leaned down to grab one of Dean’s bags before heading into his apartment.  

Dean turned to look at you then looking at your door before he leaned down to pick up the other bag. “Oops!”  With that he headed into the open apartment and shut the door.  Shaking your head you went to unlock your own door. 

Heading to your bedroom after setting your things down,  you figured if you didn't get your workout done first it wasn’t going to happen.  Quickly changing you grabbed some laundry and went to throw a  load in the washer so the first load would be done when your workout was finished.  Very thankful to have a washer and dryer in your apartment.  Grabbing your key you headed the gym on the ground floor.  An hour on the bike left you feeling a little better, getting out some of your frustrations.  

Back inside your apartment you changed the laundry and started on your dusting and window washing before vacuuming.  Finally finished, you headed for a shower to clean off the dirt and sweat.  

All clean you ventured to the kitchen to see what you could whip up for dinner. When a knock at your door pulled you away.  Who could be here now you wondered.

Opening the door you came face to face with Mr green eyes again.  Shoot, what did Sam say his name was.

“Your brother still lives across the hall.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.  I swear Sammy told me it was 44.  I just wanted to come say I was sorry for bothering you earlier.  I know the right place now.”

“It’s fine.  Have a nice visit.”

“Thanks it’s not really a visit.  I’m Dean, like he said, I’m his older brother.”

“Y/N, the neighbor.  Nice to meet you Dean.”  Holding out your hand to Dean his bigger hand engulfed it in a firm shake.

“Would you let me take you out for a bite to apologize for my first impression?”   

“I don’t know if that’s a good…”

“It’s not a date,”  He hurriedly cut in.  “It’s just, I mean, you seem like a nice person, and you would probably be a great date, but it’s not.  It will just be food I swear.  Tomorrow afternoon, or night?  I don’t know if you have big Saturday plans?”

“Shouldn’t you be spending time with your brother?”

“He has a work dinner with Jess they can’t miss.”

You thought about it for a moment.  You had been friends with Sam and Jess a little while now and trusted them, so you should be able to trust his brother.  “I’m supposed to go dress shopping with my friend Meg, tomorrow.  We should be done by 6 if you really want to grab some dinner.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart, I’ll knock on your door again then.”

“Okay, goodnight Dean.  Oh and welcome to Michigan.”  Shaking your head you shut the door to go back to your search for tonight’s dinner.  

The fridge was pretty empty, you didn’t even have any frozen microwaveable meals left.  Looks like grocery shopping just became part of your weekend plans.  Settling on a bag of popcorn, it is a vegetable of sorts, somehow right?  You finally headed for the couch and turned on the Hallmark Channel to see if there was a movie you could get lost in for the rest of the evening.  Before you know it, it was time for bed so you could get an early start on tomorrow.

It was an honor to be asked to be the Maid of Honor, right?  You needed to keep reminding yourself of this as you wandered through the dress shop the next day with Meg.  Meg was a friend from elementary school and sometimes you think you are the MoH because many others would not have been able to handle this process with her.  She could be a little blunt and rude, but you were used to this and could take the wedding craziness coming from her.  5 hours and two shops later she finally found the perfect dress for herself.  You couldn’t be happier since you had already spent two other Saturday’s out searching.    

Her fiancé Cas, thankfully had the patience of an angel.  They had met when Meg left for college in Kansas, he was a year older than her.  After graduation he had followed her back up here. Six years later, Cas finally got her to say ‘yes’. She seemed to be a better person with him around, a little kinder.  They would be good for each other and you were very happy for them.

Your love life on the other hand, was not so lucky.  Two months ago, you had broken up with your only serious boyfriend.  A night out with friends had ended in tears when trying out the new bar in town.  You had turned around in time to see a flash of Justin in a corner booth, walking over you found him lip locked with another woman.  You stood there shocked for a moment when the woman noticed you staring and commented on it.  A look of shock on Justin’s face as he quickly moved away from her and tried to explain  The rest of your drink ended up on him as you walked out of the bar.  Meg having seen the whole thing took you home and kept your now ex out when he came over to try and talk to you.  The guys you had been out with before him, hadn’t done much for your faith in men either, having made the choice to give up dating for now.  You were two years away from thirty, and had always thought by now you would have settled down.  Maybe that wasn’t in the cards for you.  

It was only a little after three so you decided to stop at the grocery store on the way home, this way you wouldn’t need to run out tomorrow.  You would be able to just enjoy a day at home.  Arriving home you pulled into your assigned spot and went to empty your car, you were one of those people who tried to carry everything in one trip.  At least the elevator passed yesterday’s inspection and was running today, or it would be a challenge carrying everything at once up 4 flights of stairs.  Although you couldn’t open your door with your hands full and keys in your pocket.  Freeing a hand you finally worked it open as the door opened behind you.  

“Need a hand?”  Turning around Dean was standing in the doorway leading to the opposite apartment.

“You don’t have to, half the challenge was getting it up here.”

“I know I don’t have to,”  As he finished talking Dean leaned down to pick up the discarded bags.  “Dinner for tonight or are we still good to go?”

“Still good to go, I just had an empty fridge and decided to hit the store today and enjoy tomorrow.”

Dean set the bags on the counter and started to unpack them.  Looking at the various items he turned to you holding up molasses and baking soda, “These aren’t your typical dinner items.”

“No, this is me getting a head start on what I need for Christmas baking. I know it’s the start of October, but December comes quick, and I like to have my baking done for my family’s Christmas party the first weekend of December.”

“You bake?”

“Yes, I actually really enjoy it.”

“So what all do you make cookies, cakes, pies maybe?”

Laughing at the hopeful look in his eye at the last item you nodded your head.  “Yes, those plus bars, and different candies.  Christmas I do the most, although not usually pie for that.  Different holidays or events vary, or when I’m in a funk and just want to get lost in my kitchen.”

“Ever need a pie tester, I’ll gladly volunteer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  The groceries unloaded Dean looked around before heading out saying he would be back at six.  Glancing at the clock you saw it was almost five and decided to hop in the shower to get cleaned up.  

There was a knock on your door right at six, dressed casually in jeans, a sweater and tall black heeled boots you opened it to see Dean smiling at you. Also having gone casual with jeans and a dark green henley. “Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yep, all set.  So where are we going Mr. Winchester?”  Dean turned, giving you a funny look, as you got into the elevator “What?”

“How do you know my last name? Been looking into me?”

“You’re Sam’s brother, right?  I kinda thought they would be the same.”

“Oh, yeah, true.  As for our destination, I thought I’d surprise you.”

You screwed up your face but just nodded.  You didn’t want to come across as rude to whatever he was thinking.  Getting in the car he turned to look at you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”  There wasn’t much you hated more than surprises. 

“Your face said otherwise a minute ago.”

“I was just thinking about something else, all good here,”  You gave him a smile before looking out the window.

A short while later you pulled up outside a bar you hadn’t been to in a few months. Quietly getting out of the car you followed Dean inside.  “Sam told me about this place, he said it was fairly new, but the food is good.  Have you been here yet?”

“Once, but I wasn’t here long enough to eat.”  It was early enough still it wasn’t too busy yet, Dean heading over to a booth asking if that was alright.  You agreed and sat across from him. After ordering drinks and food it was a little awkward between the two of you.  This wasn’t a date, what was it.  You didn’t know the man so it wasn’t even friends hanging out.  Not wanting to sit in silence any longer you decided to break it.

“How long are you visiting for?”

“I’m working on moving up here actually, I’m staying with Sam and Jess while I look for a place and find some work.  Then I’ll head back to Lawrence with Sam and we’re going to drive my stuff back.”

“Oh wow, like the mitten state that much huh?”

Dean was quiet for a moment before answering,  it almost seemed like he was having an internal battle on how to respond.  “I needed a change and my brother and best friend both moved up here. Sam and I were pretty close growing up, and it would be nice to be near him again.  My parents are still in Kansas but have talked about moving for a while.  I can see them heading up here if Sam and Jess are here, especially if they end up having kids. I guess I’m going before I get left behind.”  There was a sadness in his eyes that told you something was missing from his story. 

“What kind of work are you looking for?”  

“I actually was in business with my dad before I left.  Owned an auto repair shop and we specialized in classic car restorations.  Dad’s keeping the shop, but I’m guessing he’ll retire in a year or two and sell it.   Going to see if anyone around here is hiring for now. How about you, what is it that you do?”

“Oh, I work at a physical therapy clinic in the business office.  It’s usually a nice 9-5 job, but we had someone leave unexpectedly in the front office so I’ve been filling in for her and trying to do my work too.  Makes for some later days.  Someone new is starting next week so once they are trained it should calm down again.”  

Dean was watching you and noticed you were doing your best to avoid looking around the bar, your focus either him or the table.  “Is there someone you don’t want to see you here?  A boyfriend I should worry about coming to beat me up?  What’s up?”

“No, nothing like that.”  Taking a deep breath you look up at Dean, “This place doesn't have great memories for me.  The one time I was here I caught my then boyfriend making out with someone else.  It was definitely a surprise, I wasn’t a fan of surprises before, but that was one of the worst I could have.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I should have checked the place with you first.”

Reaching across the table you put your hand on top of Dean’s, “No it’s okay.  I really should just get over it anyways.  It’s stupid on my part, right?”

“Not at all Sweetheart,”  Dean turns his hand over giving yours a squeeze.  “I understand to well how much that stings.”  Letting out a deep breath he continues, “I had been dating this girl for over a year.  Thought she was it ya know.  I came home from work early to surprise her one day and found her in our bed with another guy.”

“Oh Dean, I am so sorry!”

 He gave you a little smile before continuing, “It was my house. I kicked her out and put it up for sale, packed up my stuff and ended up storing it at my parents while I was staying in my childhood bedroom.  I just couldn’t stay there.  Got lucky it sold in a few months. I would see the two of them all around town and needed to get out of there.  Sammy, and my childhood best friend, Cas like it up here so I decided to give it a shot”

“Wait, Cas?  Is he engaged to Meg?”

“Uh, yeah why?”

“She’s my best friend, I’m her maid of honor.  I’ve met Cas, he’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, she’s good for him.  Takes him out of his comfort zone.  Good for them, me on the other hand.  I don’t see myself dating anytime soon.”

“Me either, I don’t have the best luck with relationships. I’m sorry for what you went though, you didn’t deserve that.”  

“Neither did you.” You both sat there taking in what the other had said. 

Dean spoke first,  “I wouldn’t mind making a new friend though.  Especially if she needs any taste testing when baking.”  

Laughing before leaning back against the booth more relaxed than you had been, “I think new friends are good.”  

Deciding it was time to lighten the subject you asked him another question.  “So what brought Sam up here?  I know Jess was from Indiana, not here either.”  

“After law school Sam had been offered a position in a big firm in Ann Arbor, which I guess is like  30-40 minutes from here.  Jess didn't want to live in the bigger city, she wanted to be in a little smaller town if they could.  She said they did big city living in California during college and could visit Ann Arbor, or Chicago from here.  Sam liked the idea of that too.  I think they are both thinking of where they want to raise kids eventually”

“This is a good town to grow up in, I did.  Why they moved here never came up in conversation. I’ve hung out with her and Meg before, and neither mentioned Sam and Cas were from the same town.” 

  The two of you spent the rest of the night talking and laughing more at ease knowing where the other stood. It was after 11 when Dean pulled back into the apartment parking lot.  This had been one of the best nights you had had in awhile.

Part 2

Thank you for reading!!

Tags  @talesmaniac89 @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons​ @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth @anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83 @atc74 @sandlee44 @akshi8278  @fantasydevil2002

[cestlestial-beings]

like that

Summary: Three times Sam and Dean have sex: 1. Dean visits Sam at Stanford and they find out they feel the same way about each other; 2. Sam confesses to Dean that he's a man, and Dean does his best to ease Sam's worries; 3. Years into Sam's transition, Dean enjoys Sam's masculine traits.

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: FTM!Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester Word Count: 4600 AO3: Link

Notes:

Thanks to @jackklineisperfect for beta reading :) Any errors you find are my own.

Pronouns are based on Dean's perception, not Sam's identity.

Part 1/Stanford Sam looks like this.

More notes on physical transition for transgender men are included in the end notes on AO3.

Full Fic:

The First Time with Her

Dean fell in love with Sam when she was sixteen. One day, it just clicked. She was beautiful.

He would never act on it. She was four years younger than him, and they were siblings.

But every time he hooked up with someone else, he thought about her.

* * *

Dean visits Sam a couple of days before her birthday, two years into her time at Stanford.

He has no idea how she’s going to take it—they’d had enough angry arguments over the phone during Sam’s first six months that they haven’t spoken to each other in more than a year, despite how much Dean has wanted to—but here he is, in front of Sam’s apartment building, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.

Finally the front door to the building opens, and Dean sees her.

His breath catches. She’s embraced her feminine side since she’s come to Stanford. She’s wearing a fitted t-shirt and shorts that show off her long legs instead of the too-loose hoodie and jeans of her high school days; she has a wavy, shoulder-length hairstyle and bangs instead of a choppy, done-at-home haircut; and she has just a hint of makeup on—light eyeliner and lipgloss. She looks nothing like the frumpy, tomboyish girl she’d been when Dean saw her last.

“You’ve been standing out here for two hours. Are you just gonna stand there looking like a stalker, or are you coming to come in?”

He ducks his head and jogs up the steps to the door. Right back into her sass, before even a hello.

“You look so grown up, Sammy,” he says, as she walks him up the stairs to her apartment.

Sam smiles shyly. “My friends are really insistent on helping me with my style.”

No kidding. Dean’s never seen her look so much like a girl.

She leaves the stairwell at the third floor and stops at a door about halfway down the hall, then turns to him.

“Dean, why are you here?” she finally asks.

He gives her a wavering smile. “I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, Sammy.” He knows that doesn’t answer her question, so he sighs and adds, “I know I gave you a lot of crap for leaving me and Dad behind, but…” He shrugs. “I miss you. I’ll accept your decision if it means you’ll be in my life.”

“Awwww. That’s so cute.”

“Shut up,” he says, rolling his eyes. All grown up and yet still the annoying little sibling.

And then she smiles, and it lights up her whole face. His heart melts, and he hates himself for it.

She pulls him into a hug. “I really missed you too, Dean.”

* * *

Sam introduces Dean to her roommates as “an old friend” which strikes Dean as strange, but he rolls with it. She grabs her stuff and they go out for burgers, talking about everything except what Sam left behind. The conversation is so natural, it’s almost as if the two-year gap since they last saw each other hadn’t happened at all.

Dean gives her a gift (a small stack of classic movies he knows she hasn’t seen but should) and buys her a milkshake. He sticks a candle he’d brought with him into the top of the milkshake and lights it, and Sam laughs when an employee comes over to tell them to put it out because it’s a fire hazard. As it gets dark, Sam takes Dean on a walk around the Stanford campus, pointing out certain landmarks as they go.

It’s almost ten at night when they get back to Sam’s apartment building. They stop in front of the building, and it feels like the end of a date, neither of them sure where to go from here. Something shifted in their relationship since they’d seen each other last; there was a new, unexplored dimension to it that hung heavy in the air between them.

“Where are you staying?” Sam asks him.

Dean points to the Impala, parked across the street. “That’s my room for the night.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she says, already headed inside.

“Won’t your roommates mind?”

“No,” she says. “They have boys over often enough, I don’t think they’ll care.” Dean feels his cheeks start to burn, and he can see Sam start to blush at the careless comparison as well. “You know what I mean!” she says, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

Sam lays a futon out on the floor for him and gives him a stack of sheets before leaving to go through her bedtime routine. He sets up, feeling nostalgic for when they shared rooms as kids. You have to sleep on the floor because you’re younger, Dean would say after setting up the bedding on the ground, and Sam would throw a fit but finally give in, and ultimately Dean would give her the bed because he felt guilty.

Dean looks around the room, running his fingers along the back of the spines of textbooks and picking up picture frames with photos of Sam and people Dean doesn’t know.

Sam finally comes back into the room, dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose AC/DC t-shirt. She’s so gorgeous that Dean loses his breath for a moment.

“Hey,” she says, shutting the door behind her, and it’s a little awkward now, since they’re alone, awkward like it hasn’t been all night. She bites her lip and pauses like she’s going to say something. It takes her a moment but she finally says, “There’s something I feel like I should tell you.”

“Hm.” He’s completely still, waiting for what she’s going to say.

She takes a deep breath. “Part of the reason I left was to get away from you.”

It feels like a punch in the gut, and he turns away.

“No, Dean, I…” She runs a hand through her hair. “I wanted you in a way that I wasn’t supposed to, so I ran. I ran because I was guilty, and scared. I just thought you should know, before you leave again. So you can know not to come back.”

Dean’s breath stops completely as he takes in her words.

She forces a laugh. “God, it was a mistake inviting you up here tonight when—”

He cuts her off with a kiss. She’s surprised but leans into it almost immediately, the tension melting out of her body. He thought this would feel worse. He thought this would feel gross, and predatory, and wrong. But he can tell how badly she wants him, so it just feels good.

He pulls back, just a little. “I want you too,” he says. “In a way that I’m not supposed to.”

She lets out a short, giddy laugh, and pulls him back in for a kiss.

He sits down on the bed and pulls her onto his lap, their mouths never leaving each other’s. His hand slips up under her shirt to cup her breast, and he’s surprised to note she’s still wearing a snug-fitting sports bra, even in her nightwear. She leans away from him and pushes his hand down.

“You don’t want to…?” he starts to say.

“No, I do. You can touch me anywhere but there.”

He doesn’t really understand but he doesn’t mind because there’s so much more of Sam to explore. He lets his hands roam down her back, across her belly, around the firm curve of her ass. He pulls her shirt off of her and helps her slide out of her pants and she’s here, bare in front of him in just her underwear and so, so beautiful.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, and she nods, hungry. “Okay.”

He flips her over onto her back and takes a moment to pull off his own clothes. He feels self-conscious in a way he’s never been with other girls as he undresses in front of her. When his clothes are off, he crawls over to look down at her. Her eyes are sparkling and happy, the corner of her mouth just barely pulled up in a smile.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, and now she does smile, fully.

He presses kisses down along her body, along her collarbone and arms and stomach—careful to skip over her still-covered chest, like she asked—and he pulls down her panties, down and off (lacy pink doesn’t seem like Sam’s style, but the thought only registers in his head for a moment).

He kisses her lower stomach, and he feels her gasp lightly, goosebumps rising on her skin. He pushes her legs apart for access and slides his tongue along her folds and up to her clit. She’s wet already.

“Dean,” she moans, and the sound runs straight through him to his rapidly hardening dick. She buries a hand in his hair while his tongue swirls around her clit. She tugs his hair a little bit. “Dean, I want you inside me.”

He slides back up and kisses the corner of her mouth. “Sure, baby.”

“Condoms in the second drawer,” she says, pointing to the nightstand.

He opens the drawer and rifles through it. There’s a couple of dildos, a vibrator, several sizes of butt plugs. “Sammy, you naughty girl. Playing with yourself, huh?”

Her face is in the shadow of his body, but he can still see her blush. She slaps his arm. “Just get the condom, asshole.”

He obeys. Fishes one out, tears open the packaging, slides it on. When he looks back at her, her lips are parted just slightly, her eyes hooded with desire. Fuck, she’s beautiful. She’s everything he’s ever wanted.

He lines himself up with her hole and she uses her hand to help guide him in. He pushes in and she gasps, pressing her head back into the pillow and squeezing her eyes shut. He slides in slow, letting her adjust to his presence inside her. She’s tight and warm and it feels so good it’s almost overwhelming.

Dean stops when he’s all the way in.

She opens her eyes and meets his, bringing up her hand to rest on the side of his face. “This is pretty fucked up, huh?”

Yeah, he wants to say. There’s a part of him insistently reminding him that it’s not too late to stop, to put things back to the way they were. To make their relationship be that of siblings, not whatever the fuck this is.

But he wants this and Sam wants this and he doesn’t want her to feel like a freak for her desires, so he says, “Less fucked up than everything else about our lives,” and she laughs softly before pulling him down for another kiss.

Sam keeps him close as he rocks into her, slow and sensual, and sometimes when he hits just the right spot, she’ll moan against his lips. Their bodies move together with a familiarity that only comes from having known each other their entire lives, though they’ve never known each other like this.

She comes with a moan, and the feeling of Sam clenching around him pushes him over the edge a few seconds later.

“Fuck, Sam,” he says, the pleasure washing over him in waves.

“Dean,” she says, and, breathing hard, she takes his face in both of her hands, watching the pleasure on his face with a satisfied smile.

He pulls out and flops down next to her, lying on his side so he can watch her catch her breath.

She brushes a lock of sweaty hair out of her face and rolls to face him as well. She grins. “God, you’re hot.”

“I know,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. He leans in close and kisses her forehead, the way he’s done since she was a little kid. He thought it would feel weird, a gesture of an older sibling right after sex, but it just feels natural. Like the physical intimacy they’d just shared was simply an extension of the emotional intimacy they’ve had their entire lives.

“Hey,” she says, running her fingers along Dean’s cheek. “I don’t have class tomorrow morning.”

“So...?”

“So you can keep me up tonight,” she says, and she winks at him, an awkward wink closer to a blink, and he laughs at her attempt to be sexy. Her cheeks turn red, but she scowls at him. So cute.

“Okay, I’ll keep you up tonight,” he says, giving her a quick kiss.

And he does, but they spend more time talking than fucking, and he’s so content. He could stay here forever.

* * *

Dean doesn’t call for a year, even though he knows he should. But what is he supposed to say, after a night like that with his own sister?

Finally he works up the nerve.

It’s a short conversation.

Sam is in a committed relationship now. She’s trying harder than ever to distance herself from her past, and Dean doesn’t fit into her new life.

It shouldn’t hurt like it does. Dean is the one who’d put space between them, and she was going to move on eventually. But he still feels hollow, and he doesn’t call her again.

The First Time with Him

Sam is having a breakdown in the motel bathroom and Dean doesn’t know what to do. Dean thinks she was set off by meeting Dean’s old flame Cassie, and Dean doesn’t know how many more times he can assure Sam that Cassie isn’t the one he’s in love with anymore, that Sam is the only person he has eyes for.

“That’s not it,” Sam said, but wouldn’t elaborate any more than that.

“Come on, Sam, just talk to me,” he says, resting his head against the bathroom door. “Please.”

“Give me some space, okay?” she says again.

He sighs, but there’s not much he can do, so he goes out and gets a couple of burgers and comes back. When he enters the motel room, Sam is sitting on the bed in a huge, oversize hoodie and a loose pair of Dean’s jeans, staring at the wall. It’s almost impossible to make out any of her form beneath the clothes. She’s been dressing in super loose, baggy clothes like that more often than not lately, and Dean doesn’t understand.

“Food,” he says.

Sam begrudgingly gets up and sits down at the motel room’s table, helping herself to one of the burgers. She munches on it silently, her red, puffy eyes carefully avoiding Dean’s.

She’d been so much more masculine by the time Dean had broken into her apartment to tell her Dad was missing. Away from her feminine attire and presentation she’d had the previous time they’d met, and back to a short, boyish haircut and masculine outfits that hid her curves. Anyone would see her as a guy at first glance, and probably at second glance too. I just feel more comfortable like this, she’d said, and then it turned out her committed relationship was with a woman. Dean was shocked. Had Sam really been a butch lesbian this whole time? Was what happened between them two years before just a dream?

It didn’t make him any less drawn to her, though. She was still Sam, with her piercing green eyes and sharp intelligence and a level of empathy and kindness that seemed miraculous, given the background she came from. And she was still drawn to him too—their relationship became physical a few weeks into working with each other again.

The closer physical intimacy meant that in the past couple of weeks, Dean has been noticing that some things are seriously off. Sam wears a tight sports bra every time they fuck and refuses to take it off. She barely speaks to him when she’s on her period. Sometimes during what he considers pretty vanilla dirty talk, she shuts off for the night. He chalks it up to hormones, but he knows it’s something more, especially now that she’d had a full breakdown over whatever it is.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Dean asks, not yet starting in on his burger. He tries to keep his voice gentle and even, to coax her into talking about what’s been bothering her so much.

She sets down her food and pushes it away. She absently taps the table with her finger like she’s trying to decide whether to share what she’s thinking or not. She’s still avoiding looking at Dean, and it’s starting to piss him off that she’s barely acknowledging him.

“Sam, come on,” he says, and his voice comes out harsher than he intends. But he’s tired of her brushing it off and pushing him away when it’s not something that either of them can just ignore. “You can’t just expect me to walk on eggshells around you, hoping that I won’t set you off about something I don’t even understand. Why the hell are you upset?”

Sam shakes her head.

“Come on, man, give me something,” Dean pleads.

Sam swallows. “I’m not who I am, Dean.”

Dean furrows his brow. Sam couldn’t be any more unclear if she tried. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m…” She gestures down at herself. “This isn’t me. It’s not me. I’m not supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“A girl.”

“I don’t get it.”

She takes a long, shaky breath. “I want—I need—to be a man.”

Dean supposes he should be more shocked by her declaration, but Dean has always seen her more as Sam than as a girl. And finding out she feels like a guy… Things just start to click.

All the times Sam had called herself Dean’s brother as a little kid, despite John and Dean’s frequent corrections. Excited chatter about how much she related to the boys in her most recent book. Complaining about not playing soccer at the same time she quit the girls’ soccer team. The complete withdrawal into herself as soon as she hit puberty.

Dean had always figured it was identity confusion because Sam had never had a female role model growing up, but that wasn’t what it was, not really.

And more recently—leaning into anything masculine while distancing herself from femininity. He remembered when a store clerk had called her “sir” the other day, and her face had brightened. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time—it seemed a lot of people mistook Sam as a guy—but it makes sense now why it would make her happy.

“Okay,” he finally says, waiting for her to elaborate.

“‘Okay’?” she asks. “What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

“I guess I don’t understand what this means, exactly.”

“It means…” She sighs, runs a hand through her hair. “I’d be different, Dean. If you were okay with me starting hormones, it would mean I would look different, and sound different, and probably feel and smell different too.”

She laid it all out for him, but he’s still not sure he understands. He has no clue what the changes would look like on Sam specifically. He focuses on the one part of the sentence he did understand. “What do you mean, if I’m okay with it?” he asks. “The Sam I know would never ask permission.”

Sam picks at a fingernail nervously. “I don’t want to lose you,” she says softly.

“You’re not going to lose me, Sam,” Dean tells her. “I’m going to stay with you, I promise.”

“No, Dean, I mean… You’re attracted to women. Just look at Cassie. She was so… And I’m so…” Sam shakes her head as she struggles to find the right words. “I’m going to change and…” Her voice starts to fade as she talks. “You’re not going to want me anymore.”

Dean has no idea what to say. He can’t see any universe where he wouldn’t want Sam. He’s silent for a long moment as he looks at Sam carefully, thinking about what she would look like as a guy. Yes, he loves her body as it is now, the soft curves and smooth skin and feminine moans he pulls from her during sex. So what would it feel like to be with her, if it was different? Stubble and broad shoulders and a dick?

He tilts his head slightly. He’s never sought out guys, never really been interested, but he’d never really been averse to it either. If Sam became a man, Dean’s pretty sure he wouldn’t mind. He would miss some things, but he wouldn’t mind. His attraction to Sam is because she’s Sam, not because she’s a woman.

Sam shifts uncomfortably, his eyes still avoiding Dean’s.

“Hey,” Dean says, and his hand snakes across the table to take Sam’s. “I’m gonna love you no matter what, okay?”

“Yeah, but not like—”

“Yes, like that,” Dean says. “I loved you the way you were when I came to see you in college. I love you the way you are now. I’ll love you no matter what changes you or your body go through, okay?”

Sam’s eyes well up with tears. “Really?” he says softly.

Dean squeezes Sam’s hand and gives him a reassuring smile. “Yeah.”

Sam sniffs. “God, I tell you I feel like a guy and then start crying like a girl.”

Dean stands up and pulls Sam up to his feet too.

“Hey,” he says, taking Sam’s face in his hands and wiping away Sam’s tears with his thumbs. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Dean pulls him into a hug and holds him close while he cries himself out.

Normally they’d look for their next job at the end of a day like today, but they take the night off and talk about where Sam is going to go next. How he’ll get hormones, if he’s going to get surgery, how fast the changes will happen.

Sam gradually starts to open up about it and get more and more excited, and Dean can’t help the warm feeling deep in his core. When Sam is happy, Dean is happy too.

* * *

Dean falls asleep in Sam’s arms that night and only wakes up when the light streaming through the crack in the curtains hits his eyes.

He groans and rolls over so he’s facing Sam. He nudges Sam awake.

“Hey, handsome,” Dean says, and Sam blinks his eyes open sleepily. Sam smiles when he meets Dean’s eyes.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Dean brushes a messy lock of hair away from Sam’s face. It falls right back into place. “Since you’re a guy now, would it be gay if we fucked?” he asks. He’s excited to try, now that he knows the feminine words to avoid and the masculine words to try out. Now that he knows what will turn Sam off and what might turn him on.

Sam rolls his eyes. “I don’t know, does that bother you?”

“Can’t knock it ’til I’ve tried it,” Dean says. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to suck a dick.”

Sam raises his eyebrows.

Dean starts to scoot down the bed and looks up at Sam through his eyelashes. “You mind if I give it a try, stud-muffin?”

Sam bites his lip. “Hey, I’d like if you never called me that again, ever.”

“Daddy?”

“Gross, that’s so much worse.”

“Lover boy.”

“Dean.”

“Little brother?”

Sam doesn’t object to that one, so Dean takes it as a green flag. Not a traditional sexual term, but he thinks it’s kind of hot.

While Dean goes down on Sam and listens to Sam’s moans, he realizes this feels right. Sam, a guy. It’s going to take some getting used to, but it fits. Things have changed, but they’re the same; it’s a new chapter, but still the same book.

The Hundredth Time with Him

It’s a few years later, sometime between near-world-ending events, that Dean wakes up in a motel bed with his arm draped over Sam. Dean still likes being the big spoon, no matter that Sam is bigger than Dean now. When Sam started testosterone, he bulked up big time. He’s huge and all muscle, but that doesn’t stop him from snuggling up against Dean.

Dean yawns and strokes his fingers lazily through Sam’s chest hair and Sam hums sleepily. He runs his hand down Sam’s side. Gone are the feminine curves Dean loved about Sam before, smoothed out and adjusted by hormones, but Dean loves the new shape just as much. And ever since the surgery they’d only had to commit light fraud to afford, Dean’s pleased that he can touch Sam’s chest wherever he wants.

Sam rolls over and nuzzles his nose against Dean’s. Dean strokes a thumb along Sam’s jaw, the stubble prickly under the pad of his finger. Dean hadn’t expected so much facial hair growth, but he doesn’t mind it. The scent of Sam’s aftershave turns Dean on just as much as the familiar smell of her vanilla shampoo used to.

“Hey,” Dean says, pressing a light kiss to Sam’s lips. “We should get up.”

“I don’t want to,” Sam mumbles, eyes still closed. He’d been up far past Dean, finishing up on a lead for some research, so Dean doesn’t blame him for wanting to stay in bed.

“Come on. We’ve got work to do. I’ll suck your dick if you come take a shower.”

That seems to do it. Sam groans and rolls out of bed. “Fine.”

Sam is too sleepy to do much himself, but Dean takes his time lathering Sam up with soap, scrubbing him all over his body with a washcloth. Sam is so comfortable in his body now, too, in a way that he never was before. It’s a relief to be able to touch Sam anywhere without Sam turning off or pushing him away.

Dean massages shampoo into Sam’s scalp and grins at the moan it elicits from Sam.

He shuffles around so he’s in front of Sam and gets on his knees, brushing his soaked hair from his eyes. Sam looks down at him through hooded eyes and buries a hand in Dean’s hair. Dean smiles and takes Sam’s dick between his lips, lapping at the tip and water running over it. Sam’s cock is still small, but it’s grown since Sam started hormones, almost an inch and a half long now, sometimes a little more when Sam is hard.

Dean slides two fingers into Sam. He knows Sam’s body almost better than his own, so when he curls his fingers, he finds Sam’s g-spot instantly. “Mm, fuck, Dean,” Sam says, pushing his hips towards Dean.

Dean takes his time, sucking on Sam’s cock and stroking his fingers in Sam, enjoying Sam’s panting and gasps until Sam comes with a moan. Dean feels himself start to get hard as Sam’s pussy clenches around his fingers. Dean runs his tongue along Sam’s cock one more time and then stands up. He meets Sam’s lips with his own. “Worth getting up for?” he murmurs.

“It was… adequate,” Sam says, and Dean punches his shoulder while Sam laughs.

“Last time I ever do anything nice for you,” Dean grumbles.

“Aw, come on,” Sam says, and he tugs Dean in, pressing their bodies close together. Dean leans his forehead against Sam’s and lets out a contented sigh. It crosses Dean’s mind, briefly, how far they’ve come. How far Sam has come.

How everything about Sam is different, except that he’s Sam.

And Sam is all Dean wants.

[deans-haunted-baby]

The Ones Left Behind

Alrighty time for some truth bombs. I’ve had almost a week to absorb the end of Supernatural and season 15 as a whole. And I think this is the moment where I need to throw in my two cents. For all intents and purposes I won’t go in-depth into 15x20 seeing as that conversation will just open up a whole other can of worms and I don’t need that headache. I have my reasons for being less than indifferent with how the Winchesters’ story concluded. So I won’t go there.

Instead I’ll be focusing all my energies on the unsatisfying conclusions of 4 particular characters. Two of which were main cast members (one that was on the show 12 years and one 4 years) while the other two (played by the same dude) were brought back after a decade long hiatus for a much-anticipated comeback only to be wasted and mangled unfairly by Dabb and his hack horde of a writing staff. Call this a follow up to my last post. If I sound bitter I am because these people don’t have a single clue on how to helm these characters, their relationships or their storylines 😠 Nor do they deserve them.

And yes I’m well aware of Kevin Tran, Rowena, Ketch and several others who got the shaft on this show. Those could be future posts for another time.

But I cannot stress this enough; ADAM MILLIGAN, JACK KLINE, MICHAEL AND CASTIEL ALL DESERVED FUCKING BETTER. There is no arguing these facts, none whatsoever. Not one of these characters deserved that exit to be the final chapter in their story. I won’t do an entire analysis of each character’s arc and role in the show as I’ve already done that in my rant about 15x19. But I will highlight how much season 15 royally screwed over these characters and tossed them aside like trash; as if none of them were ever part of/contributed anything to Sam and Dean’s history/world building of Supernatural’s universe.

*WARNING* This is going to get heated.

Before I dive into the heart of these issues I want to state this is not a “shipping post”. I don’t ship anyone on Supernatural, hopefully this blog has been pretty self-explanatory. So I have no arguments/opinions in those areas. I’ve been a fan of this series for 15 years because of the characters, the familial bonds and relationships formed between characters throughout its run. And I’m well-aware that the Winchesters are the lead protagonists of the show, no need to remind me. These are purely my own thoughts based what I’ve obtained from show canon. Let me just say I can’t get over just how much these writers contradicted and ignored what they put forth in the journeys of these four individuals. its a real headscratcher.

You mean to tell me that after TWELVE DAMN YEARS of Castiel being a rebellious warrior angel, searching for his own identity and meaning in life; making that promise to Kelly Kline about raising Jack as his own/risking his life for him. After sacrificing himself for his son a year ago, acknowledging he was satisfied with his role as a father which restored his faith; that it was all because of/for Dean Winchester? 

You mean to tell me that after Michael, THE PRINCE OF HEAVEN and PROTECTOR OF HUMANITY, was locked away in a cage with a human whom he emotionally bonded with for thousands of years (10 years our time); who was abandoned, betrayed and manipulated by his neglectful/abusive father. After choosing free will and aligning himself with TFW for humanity’s sake, just sided with the Earth’s destruction because his little brother called him names? 

You mean to tell me that Jack, A THREE YEAR OLD CHILD, who’s barely just beginning his life and spent his entire duration on the show wanting to be normal and not wanting to be special. Connecting and being integrated with humans; a child who’s biggest fear was outliving everyone he ever loved. Is suddenly ready to walk away from his family, his home and his teddy bear; to give up being a kid forever and run the universe?

You mean to tell me that Adam, SUPERNATURAL’S MOST INNOCENT CHARACTER and FORGOTTEN THIRD-WINCHESTER BROTHER, after being eaten by ghouls; pulled away from his mother out of Heaven, manipulated by angels, trapped in Hell for thousands of years because Sam and Dean left him there to rot. After coming back and helping his neglectful siblings save the world only to be ripped away from his best friend and THE ONLY OTHER PERSON who gave a damn about him; is sentenced to a life of loneliness, homelessness and turmoil until he dies and ends up in Hell where he’ll mostly be tortured and turned into a demon?

NO. I DO NOT AND WILL NEVER ACCEPT THIS BULLSHIT! 

Season 15 not only manages to contradict itself where these characters are concerned (while assassinating them before the final curtain). But the writers deliberately discarded them before giving us that *sarcasm inserted* epic solo-Winchester conclusion. Regardless of how you feel about Adam, Castiel, Jack or Michael, ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS are connected Sam and Dean’s story and part of Supernatural. And when you throw them away like they mean nothing, you’re essentially throwing away a part of the show’s history. You’re ignoring 15 years worth of story building. 

As I said I’m not going to go into 15x20 for reasons, it doesn’t offend me as much as what was done before that finale. Because I think those other show exits really affect 15x20 even worse than people realize. You want to know why, I’ll explain.

Lets start off with Castiel and Jack, OH BOY! We know where they end up; running Heaven and the Earth together which is all fine and dandy. I love my Dadstiel father/son duo being an endgame family unit. But here in lies the problem, we never saw it. Not even a cameo. And technically their onscreen storyline ends at 15x18 and 15x19 which is an ugly, anti-climatic bookend to an incredibly deep relationship that had 4 years of development. First you have Castiel who completely forgets why he made that deal with the Empty to begin with. HIS FUCKING SON. Not to mention it wasn’t about true happiness it was about giving himself permission to be happy; there is a difference. And then you have Jack wandering around next episode, vacuuming up power cause suddenly he’s a machine now, acting like he doesn’t give a shit over losing his dad to an entity HE’S BEEN DREADING ABOUT FOR A FUCKING YEAR. 

Towards the end of season 15 I noticed neither of these characters were acting like themselves. Their motivations, their personalities and strong ties to one another had mysteriously dissolved. Castiel became less concerned about the danger his son was facing after 15x15 (what the hell was that in 15x17?) and more about speaking when spoken to by either Sam or Dean. Does he know how Dean truly feels about Jack; proclaiming the child is “not family”? I doubt the in-character version of him would let Jack leave with Dean after that insult. Castiel’s not even worried whether or not his son is alive or safe before he makes the big confession later. And for some reason Jack (who’d become heavily suicidal) was more concerned with clinging to the Winchesters, willing to die for them, instead focusing on himself and the one person who’s shown him nothing but unconditional love and given him strength since birth. Both of these characters are canonically depressed and suffer from low self-esteem that was never resolved which makes me furious. 

When Chuck killed Jack at the end of season 14, this devastated Castiel in the first half of season 15. He actually got to grieve that loss throughout the episodes and deal with his anger over it, allowing the audience to anticipate the day they’d be reunited one last time. This part of Castiel’s S15 arc also ironically mirrors Jack’s S13 arc of mourning Castiel’s death until resurrecting him. And when this son finally returned to his father, who got to rescue him, it was such a poignant moment between the two. It was a cathartic payoff after witnessing Castiel in so much pain over Jack. There was so much building up between that Dadstiel reunion in 15x11 and the Empty’s pact in 14x08; this was suppose to be a tragic yet pivotal plot-point in both Jack and Castiel’s stories. And with SPN wrapping up we all expected something BIG. Yet somehow the writers retconned the whole thing by making it all about Dean, which is such a gross disservice to these characters and 4 years of storytelling.

For instance, since 15x18 was Castiel’s exit episode, why wasn’t he allowed to hug his son or Sam goodbye one last time? Why didn’t he have more of a focal role instead of standing around majority of the episode with barely any dialogue as so much precious air time was wasted on frivolous things? Why didn’t he get one last badass fight scene with someone like Death instead of being choked out and tossed around like a powerless mortal? Why did the group need to be split up to begin with when it served no purpose either than that *ugh* moment? Why wasn’t Jack allowed to call Castiel “dad” once before the show ended? He deserved to hear his son address him as dad!

AND WHY THE HELL COULDN’T JACK FEEL CASTIEL’S DEATH THE MOMENT IT HAPPENED? 

The show already established to the audience the significant cosmic bond these two characters shared since before Jack was even born. It was so powerful it boosted Castiel’s grace. Jack could remember who Castiel was from the womb and that he’d protected his mother. Not to mention HE FUCKING RESURRECTED CASTIEL OUT OF THE EMPTY ONCE WITHOUT GOD’S POWER. You’re telling me Jack couldn’t feel his dad being taken away forever despite how far apart they were? No, he’d feel it in his heart. Had we’d been given a scene like that at the end of 15x18 (something of substance) with actual grief shown in 15x19 maybe the episode would’ve faired better for them. 

That said it wasn’t, because Jack was treated the exact same way in his final exit. Hardly any lines and just a bunch of scenes of him standing/walking around until that pathetic reveal at the lake. HE DOESN’T EVEN GET TO INTERACT WITH JAKE ABEL’S MICHAEL/ADAM which would’ve been a great follow-up to the AU!Michael storyline in seasons 13 and 14. I swear these directors didn’t give Alex and Misha any motivation during their last three episodes and it’s evident in their hollow performances. But why would they when the scripts are basically telling their characters to quickly fuck off so the brothers can have their final outing. Jack doesn’t even behave like himself after he becomes the new God. His personality is apathetic, cold, alien, stiff and way too mature for the 3 year old child so closely connected to his family/the human world. In that moment I saw Alex Calvert not Jack Kline. It’s bad enough he doesn’t get a meaningful farewell but again Castiel, HIS DAD, is a complete afterthought to this kid 🥶

And that’s what we’re left with. Forever. A frigid, hollow ending to one of Supernatural’s most healthy, touching, family dynamics. It makes you wonder what was even the point. I can’t even fully enjoy the fact that its canon Jack and Castiel are together fixing Heaven because of what the show presented onscreen as their last hurrah. It’s not sitting right and it makes 15x20 even less appealing to me.

Moving onto Michael and Adam. Get ready for this. I could rant forever about how dirty my boys were done by this show. How they were discarded in the SPN series finale recap etc. just as they were FOR THE LAST TEN FUCKING YEARS. Was there even a plan going on here or was this just everyone making things up as it went? Their ending is the most unsatisfying and cruel thing because its INCOMPLETE. There is no real closure or resolution with them thanks to the monstrosity that was 15x19. AND NO ONE CARES ENOUGH ABOUT THEM TO GIVE A SHIT. 

Much as I’ve enjoyed this show for many years, it NEVER deserved Jake Abel, his talent or his time. I keep seeing so many anti posts about Dean Winchester’s final fate in Supernatural and all I can think about is “try being an Adam Milligan fan for the last decade”.  I’ve had to watch this boy go through hell with nothing to show for it either than years of memes. ridicule and the show’s mockery in forgetting him. Actually he’s the ONLY CHARACTER in this series you’re encouraged not to remember 😡 Also quick question: why give us this really interesting and healthy relationship between an archangel and its vessel if nothing was ever going to become of it? 

At this point I don’t know why Adam or the idea of him was even introduced way back in season 4 let alone revisited in season 5. Because the only thing I see when I look at this character now is SAD WASTED POTENTIAL. Storylines never explored. Relationships that never got off the ground. Backstory we never got to see (like for instance his past with John Winchester and his time in the cage). A character’s birthright (Men of Letters) that was never actualized. AND the unexplained factor that Adam could look directly at Michael’s true form without his eyes burning out (making him a special case). And the thing is he could’ve been a really great character, both him and Michael. They could’ve easily reached popular status just like Castiel given the chance since Jake is a freaking acting-powerhouse. We were given a taste in 15x08 just how awesome these characters could be and how they could’ve contributed so much to the story and its core group. But unfortunately it wasn’t meant to be.

Michael will never redeem himself after years of scrutiny and being made out to be some kind of unhinged monster. This show constantly enjoyed pounding into our brains how fearsome Michael was. Warned us via Lucifer (LUCIFER, PEOPLE!) that he wasn’t rational, compassionate and didn’t care about anything except war, death and destruction. And that he was incapable of feelings and emotions. This is how Supernatural saw Heaven’s Prince and guardian of the Earth. Christ, they actually did a two-year storyline about an evil Michael from the AU world who enjoyed torturing and killing while trying to destroy the universe. I want to know WHAT THE HELL THIS SHOW’S WRITERS HAD AGINST THESE CHARACTERS? Why they felt the need to bring back Jake Abel, AFTER A DECADE OF FANS WANTING THIS, if it was simply to piss all over his characters one last time before the show wrapped. This is absolutely unprofessional and childish; the fact that Jake is taking this bullshit in stride makes it all the more shameful 😡

We could’ve learned so much more about Michael’s past and his present relationship with Adam. These characters didn’t need to sit in the cage for a decade they could’ve easily been incorporated back into the show as far as season 8 or 10! And been an asset to the Darkness storyline in season 11.There were characters and storylines introduced that served no purpose. Why did we need to keep seeing characters like Charlie Bradbury or (as much as I like him) Crowley or Garth (love him too) or Lucifer or Abaddon or the Wayward sisters? I would’ve much preferred having Adam and Michael around and got to know them instead; especially after 15x08. I would’ve wanted to see what their dynamic with TFW could’ve become had they been long-time allies. Did John ever tell Mary about Adam’s existence? I’d like to see what her reaction would’ve been like had the Winchesters remembered him during that damn 300th episode. I guess that’s another loose end untied.

But because of what Supernatural did to these two characters, it forever taints Sam and Dean. I don’t think Dabb or purist fans realize this. But when new viewers come into this show about two brothers preaching important things like “saving people”, “family first” or “family don’t end in blood” they’re going to see how badly the main protagonists treated their innocent half brother. How Castiel and Jack were treated. They’re going to see the heroes of the story abandoning this kid in Hell forever with no intention of EVER rescuing him. And that’s why their final appearance leaves such a bad taste going into 15x20. Cause as much as Dabb and co didn’t give a shit about Adam and Michael they also didn’t give a rat’s ass about protecting Sam and Dean’s integrity. That’ll be a stain they can’t undo. 

So through all of it, we’re stuck with the abomination that is 15x19 aka the eye-soar to an unfinished/unpolished story of two horribly disregarded characters. Michael gets the pleasure of being character assassinated right before he’s stupidly killed off instead of going out a hero or becoming the next God (as it was his birthright and the setup was there in the narrative). And Adam gets killed off-screen, OUT OF HIS OWN DAMN BODY, then brought back by Jack only to live a miserable, isolated existence since his brothers have nothing to do with him (the dog and car are more important); his best friend is dead, he has no job or money or a fucking home and he’s legally dead! Really what is there left for him besides the brutal fate awaiting in Hell when he dies?  

SERIOUSLY THEY COULDN’T GIVE US ONE SCENE WHERE THE WINCHESTERS CHECKED IN ON ADAM TO MAKE SURE HE WAS SAFE?! 🤬 His last scene pretty much sums up this shit for what it is. Tragic. I feel like crying for this poor sweet boy.

Congratulations Dabb, BL and co for giving us these much deserved broken story arcs of characters you destroyed and made OOC before leaving the airways. You did your show’s protagonists justice by doing this *sarcasm inserted* after 15 years of being onscreen. I doubt these idiotic decisions are going to age well in the long run. They certainly don’t look good on the Winchesters. Anyway that’s my hot take for the day. 

ALL THESE ACTORS AND THEIR CHARACTERS DESERVED BETTER.

[fangirlingtodeath513]

The Secret Boyfriend | for the @deanandcasbingo​

Rating: G Warnings: None Tags: Marriage, Engaged Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sharing a Bed, Road Trips

“Dean? Why did Sam send us separate invitations for his and Rowena’s wedding?” Dean can hear his boyfriend’s keys clatter as they land on the glass table next to the front door and the rustle of paper which is undoubtedly the sound of Castiel shuffling through the mail.

“I’m not sure,” Dean admits with a frown, pulling his t-shirt down over his torso and meeting Cas in the living room. Cas takes one look at Dean’s old sweatpants and worn t-shirt and grins.

“You got the day off?”

Dean laughs and plucks the stack of mail from Cas’s hands, dropping it unceremoniously on the coffee table as he pulls his boyfriend into a kiss. “Yeah, Benny covered my shift since I covered for him when it was his anniversary. I figured we could spend the day relaxing and then go out to dinner later. Maybe look at rings?” Dean tentatively suggests, his nerves quashed the minute Cas’s arms wind around his neck. 

“Sounds perfect. You haven’t told your family yet?”

Dean shakes his head, smiling and brushing his thumb along Cas’s jaw. “Wanted to keep it between us, just for a little bit. And I don’t really want to take attention away from Sammy, with him and Rowena newly engaged and all.” Dean winces. “Is that, uh… okay?”

Cas laughs and kisses him gently. “Of course it is, Dean. It’s sweet that you don’t want to step on your brother’s excitement and it’s not like we’re in a rush to get married. I think we’ve both been acting as though we’ve been married for quite a while, now.”

“Suppose so,” Dean agrees, shaking his head with a smile. “According to Charlie, we’ve practically been married since we laid eyes on each other.”

Cas grins, fingers playing with the shorts hairs on the back of Dean’s head. “She isn’t wrong.”

“Maybe not,” Dean muses, hugging Cas against him tightly. “It is our anniversary, I think we’re entitled to being extra ‘gross and lovey-dovey’, as Meg says.”

Cas hums, breath ghosting over Dean’s earlobe as he presses a kiss just below his ear. “Later. Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

Dean bites his lip, chuckling. “Lead the way, love.”

 ~

“You really want to tell them the week of your brother’s wedding?”

Dean shrugs as he zips his suitcase shut. “It’s not like either of us are gonna make a big deal about it. We’ve already agreed that we don’t want an engagement party or a big, expensive wedding. Hell, we haven’t even set a date yet.” He brings Cas’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the simple silver band nestled on his finger. The small jade embedded right in the center catches his eye and he grins as he glances at his own ring. It’s the same as Castiel’s, but with a small aquamarine gem rather than a jade. Unconventional, sure, but it fits their relationship perfectly and Dean’s so happy he feels like he could burst. “Besides, I don’t want to hide how excited I am. Not from my family.”

Castiel smiles widely and pulls Dean into a kiss, sighing happily against his lips. “I love you so much.”

Dean laughs. “Do you? I never would’ve guessed.”

“Oh, shut up,” Cas mutters, shaking his head and grabbing his suitcase. “C’mon, we’ve got a nine-hour drive and I still need coffee.”

Dean smirks, grabbing his own suitcase. “Yes, sir.”

The drive to Lawrence is uneventful, thankfully. He and Cas jam out to the classic rock stations and they make it to the Winchester house by dinnertime. Mary welcomes them in with tight hugs and Dean nearly starts drooling when he smells roast chicken.

“Dad’s making his roast chicken? Hell yeah!”

“Language,” Mary chides, smiling and shaking her head as she turns to Castiel. “Good to see you again, Cas. I trust Dean’s treating you well?”

Castiel smiles. “A gentleman, as always.”

“Good,” Mary says with a grin, ushering them inside. “I hope you boys don’t mind sharing the pull-out, rooms are kinda tight at the moment.”

Dean waves a hand at her. “We’ll make it work. Grandma and Grandpa Campbell are here already?”

“This morning,” Mary confirms. “Go set your stuff down, dinner’s almost ready.”

Dean leads the way through the house, Cas following close behind. They leave their suitcases by the couch and head for the dining room, greeting Dean’s father and grandparents.

“Dean! Glad you made it safely, man,” Sam says, pulling his brother into a tight hug.

“‘Course I did, Sammy. Couldn’t miss everything as your best man, now, could I?” Dean grins and hugs Rowena tightly as Sam moves on to hug Cas. “Hey, Ro. Can’t believe you agreed to be married to him.”

Rowena smirks, glancing at Sam. “He has his uses.”

“High praise,” Cas comments with a grin, settling into the seat next to Dean once the greetings are out of the way. “Thank you for letting us stay, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester.”

John waves off the thanks. “Least we could do. You boys had an okay trip?”

Dean grins. “It was great. Way better than flying.”

They’re halfway through dinner when Sam brings up their invitations.

“So neither of you filled out the plus one section.” 

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize we needed to.” 

“Oh! You didn’t if you’re not bringing anyone.”

Dean and Cas exchanged a confused glance but before either of them can ask, the conversation’s already moved on.

“What was that about?” Cas murmurs as they’re climbing into bed that night. “Why would we fill out the plus one section when they sent us both invitations?”

Dean shakes his head. “Not a clue. That was super weird.”

“They… know we’re together, right?” Cas asks with a frown.

Dean snorts. “Of course they do, love. No way they don’t.” 

Cas seems to accept that answer and snuggles against Dean’s side with a pleased hum. “I love you, Dean. Goodnight.”

Dean smiles softly and presses a kiss to Cas’s forehead. “Love you, too.”

 ~

They’re so busy the few days before the wedding that Sam’s weird invitation mention is entirely forgotten. Dean’s fully in best man mode, helping prepare the last few things for the wedding the following day. He, Sam, Rowena, and Rowena’s maid of honor all head for the hotel that night. Dean’s staying in the groom’s suite with Sam, so Cas is left at the Winchester house by himself, as much as Dean hates it. He’ll see Cas at the reception, he can spend a day without pining for his fiance.

Sam’s a mess the morning of his wedding. He’s concerned everything is going to go wrong, he can’t find Rowena’s ring, and he forgot his shoes at the house.

“Sammy, breathe. I’ve got Rowena’s ring right here.” He pats the pocket over his heart. “Alright? I’ll call Cas and have him bring your shoes, it’s not a big deal.”

Sam takes a deep breath and nods. “You don’t think he’ll mind?”

“Not at all, man. Go work on your vows, I’ll give him a call.”

Sam nods, though Dean can see just how relieved he is. Sam retreats into the bedroom, so Dean hangs around the sitting room and calls Cas.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas answers. Dean can hear the smile in his voice and it makes Dean smile.

“Mornin’, love. Sleep okay?”

“I did. How’re things going?”

Dean chuckles. “Well, Sammy’s freaking out about almost everything. Probably just some pre-wedding jitters, nothing to worry about. I have a huge favor to ask.”

Cas laughs. “I figured. What’s up?”

“Sammy left his shoes at the house. I know it’s a bit of a drive, but if you wanna just bring your stuff, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you getting ready here.”

He hears shuffling on the other end, something he can’t quite make out the origin of. “Where would I find his shoes?”

“Bench at the end of the bed.”

More shuffling and then a small, “A-ha! Got them. I’ll grab my suit and be there in less than an hour.”

Dean grins. “Perfect. Drive safe, love. See you soon.” He tucks his phone away, knocking on the bedroom door. “Sammy? Cas is on the way with your shoes. He’s gonna chill here and get ready if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Dean.”

Cas arrives forty-five minutes later with Sam’s shoes, which Dean quickly passes to Sam before pulling Cas into a soft kiss. “Hi, love. Missed you.”

Cas grins and kisses him again. “Missed you, too. Let me just change and then I’ll leave you two to do… whatever else you need.”

Dean hums, slipping his arms around his fiance’s neck. “Kay. Save me a dance, hm?”

“We’ll see,” Cas answers with a laugh.

Dean chuckles and shoves Cas gently. “You’re an asshole. Go put your suit on, bathroom’s over there.”

Sam’s back in the sitting room by the time Cas steps out in his suit, tie in hand, smiling at Dean sheepishly. Dean smirks and shakes his head. “I really need to teach you how to tie a tie. 

Cas grins and tips his chin up so Dean can tie his tie, murmuring, “Maybe I just like having you this close.”

Dean grins and drops a soft kiss to Cas’s nose as he straightens his tie. “There. All set.”

Cas gives a pleased hum. “I’ll see you both later. Congratulations, Sam!”

Sam smiles nervously. “Thanks, Cas. See you later.”

The wedding goes off without a hitch. With pictures done, the wedding party heads into the reception. Sam and Rowena come in last and launch into their first dance, a gorgeous, choreographed piece the two of them have been working on for months. Once finished, the DJ calls for all couples to join the newlyweds on the dance floor, so Dean turns to Cas and holds out a hand. “May I have this dance, Mr. Novak?”

Cas grins and allows Dean to lead him to the dance floor. Dean sweeps Cas into his arms almost effortlessly, arms settling around Cas’s waist as they sway slowly to the music.

“Your family is staring at us,” Cas murmurs. Dean hums and pulls him closer, leaning his head against Castiel’s. 

“Don’t care. I am surprised they didn’t ask about the rings, though.”

Eventually, the song ends, so he and Cas head back to their table. They’re sitting with Dean’s parents and grandparents near the head table that Sam and Rowena are sitting at. Cas collects their glasses and heads for the bar to get refills, which is when Dean’s family pounces.

“So, you and Cas are pretty close,” Mary chances, raising an eyebrow at Dean.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, guess you could say that. He’s…” he shrugs, smiling. “He’s my best friend.”

“ Just your best friend?” Grandma Campbell prompts. Ah, so someone had noticed the rings. Dean grins.

“Well, actually, we didn’t want to draw any attention away from Sam and Ro’s day, but we’re engaged.”

He looks around the table to find his entire family dumbstruck, which is… weird.

“Uh, don’t you think that’s kind of… fast? I mean, when did this even happen?” John asks, face pale.

Dean frowns. “Well, uh, we’ve been officially engaged for about three months, but we’ve been talking about getting married for about a year, now.”

Sam and Rowena apparently wandered over without Dean noticing and Rowena grins at him. “Congrats, Dean. You two are adorable. Sickeningly so, in fact.”

Dean laughs. “Yeah, we’ve heard that before. Thanks, Ro.”

“Hang on, you and Cas have been talking about getting married for a year ?” Sam gapes at him.

Dean’s more than a little confused, at this point. “Uh, yeah? Why do you look so confused? This ain’t exactly outta left field.”

Grandpa Campbell scoffs. “The hell it ain’t, boy. How have you been talkin’ about getting married for a year?”

Dean frowns. “Well, we want to adopt in the next few years and it’s way easier to do that if you’re married, so…” he trails off, though his family still looks confused.

“So, what, you two are just gonna raise a kid together? What if you meet someone you really want to spend your life with?” John asks. 

Dean scoffs. “Cas is the one I want to spend my life with. I thought you guys were okay with me being bi.”

“Son, what does you bein’ bisexual have to do with you an’ Cas marrying just to adopt a kid?”

Dean blinks at them. They can’t really think… can they? At least Rowena looks just as confused as Dean feels. “It’s not just to adopt a kid. It’s been long enough, we may as well make it official as far as the government is concerned.”

“It’s been long enough?” Sam repeats, looking absolutely baffled.

“Yeah,” Dean answers slowly. “Cas and I have been together for seven years, kinda seems like marriage is the next step.”

His grandfather shakes his head. “So, what, you’ve been roommates for seven years, so you’re just gonna get married?”

“I’m sorry— roommates ?” He looks around at his family, raising his eyebrows at Rowena. “Do you have any idea what the fuck they’re talking about?”

“Not a wee clue, dear,” Rowena answers, brows furrowed. 

“Cas and I have been dating for seven years. Y’all know that.”

His family looks absolutely baffled, which is disheartening. Cas chooses that moment to return with their drinks, though he seems to sense the tension between them since he just sets their drinks down and sits quietly.

“Uh, no, sweetie, we didn’t,” Mary says softly, eyes locked on Castiel.

“We… seriously? We sleep in the same bedroom at our apartment, you guys have stayed over!”

“We assumed Cas used his bedroom as his office. None of us ever snooped in there,” Sam says sheepishly. “Wait, hang on.” He turns to Rowena. “You knew?”

Rowena scoffs. “It’s quite obvious, dearie. I thought you were all well aware, not blind as bats.”

“That’s why you sent us separate invitations,” Dean says as it dawns on him.

“Yes, I thought that was odd, but Samuel here insisted.”

“And why you asked if we were okay sharing the pull-out,” Cas says with a laugh, glancing at Mary. “I thought you were asking if we objected to the pull-out, not sleeping in the same bed.”

Dean scoffs. “You can’t be serious. Sam, I kissed him in front of you this morning!”

Sam gapes. “Uh, no, you didn’t. Not when I was paying attention, anyway.”

Rowena snickers. “Dean calls him ‘love’, that isn’t exactly platonic.”

Mary shrugs, looking around the table. “John and I assumed it was something he picked up from that British friend in college, Balthazar.”

Dean can feel Cas giggling silently beside him. Hell, Dean would probably be laughing hysterically if he wasn’t so confused. “You seriously didn’t figure out we were together? For seven years ?”

Sam smiles sheepishly and Rowena laughs as she pats him on the arm. “Perhaps everyone referring to you as the smarter brother was incorrect, dear.”

“Well, uh, congratulations on your engagement, then?” Mary hazards.

Dean chances a look at Castiel and the two of them devolve into hysterical laughter, doubled over with tears in their eyes. Dean’s not entirely sure if laughing is the appropriate response, but it’s better than crying or yelling.

“Wait, so when you asked Dean why I hadn’t gotten him a birthday present and he said I had but that it wasn’t family-friendly, what did you think he meant?” Cas manages to ask between giggles. 

“Ohhh, I suppose that should’ve been my first clue. Sam thought you’d gotten him a stripper,” Rowena chimes in, grinning as Sam flushes bright red.”

Dean shakes his head, laughing. “Alright, well, long story short, Cas and I have been dating since freshman year, that’s why we decided to room together for the rest of college. Then I got my job in Austin and Cas can work from anywhere, obviously, so we moved. We’ve kinda known we were gonna be together for the rest of our lives anyway so marriage didn’t seem important. Then I got my promotion last year, so we got rings a few months ago and started saving up for the wedding.”

Dean’s family congratulates them and eventually they switch topics. Dean pulls Cas onto the dance floor, shaking his head as he kisses Cas softly. “I can’t believe them.”

Cas grins. “Mm. It’ll be a funny story to tell our kids, anyway.”

Our kids, Dean thinks as he returns Cas’s grin. He likes the sound of that.

[wwwafflewrites]

A Rewrite of History

Chapter 8—Skin

So… shapeshifters.

As if you didn’t have enough trust issues.

Now, not only did you have to worry about every angel or demon sent to spy on you…

...but now you had to worry about a slimy, homicidal, lying monster that could pretend to be literally anyone.

Great.

You sighed, dragging your fingers along your scalp as you brainstormed. How could you do this and get out in one piece?

Becky calls Sam because she’s worried about her brother Zach, who’s been accused of a murder he didn’t commit. And, well, the only way to stop that would be to tail the shapeshifter before it even gets to the couples.

An impossible task.

To make matters worse, you were going to have to intervene. Right when the shapeshifter comes to torture Emily with her boyfriend’s face. And if you were caught, it would just be another thing to add to the piling concrete evidence that you were a monster in the Winchester’s eyes.

You rubbed at your temple. Your anxiety really was through the roof lately. Always on edge and lightheaded.Though, there’s only so many nutrients one can get from a peanut butter sandwich.

You underlined their names on your notepad, Zach and Emily, tracing over the line. Then you gained the will to start up your car and drive off to stalk the poor couple.

///

Time ticked by slowly as you sat and waited outside the victim's home.

To be completely honest, you weren’t sure what to expect. All the monsters you’ve hunted so far had a valid reason to be what they were. Ghosts? They were hardwired to act in violent patterns. Wendigos? They were just feral animals. Demons? They were twisted, broken souls who lash out and wreak havoc. But only after decades upon centuries of endless torture.

But a shapeshifter? A shapeshifter has its own conscience. Even if it was horribly skewed from a life of resentment and shame.

You shook your head. Sentiment. The sentiment always gets to you. This isn’t a human. This is a monster. Do the job.

After staring blankly at the house for what felt like hours, a shadow moved. Your heart picked up, and you tried to look for any other movement. Nothing. 

You sighed. How did your life even come to this? You popped open your car door, slinking out of your seat as quietly as you could. It would be much easier if the shapeshifter didn't know you were coming.

You tread lightly up to the house, up their driveway, and peeked in windows. Just as you were about to admit it was your paranoia talking, something in the house shuddered.

Welp. Guess you hadn’t imagined it.

The front door was open. You let yourself in.

The house was dangerously quiet. The lights were deceivingly warm. Then you heard whimpering. Silver knife in hand, you tiptoed in their hallway, watching the source's door like a hawk. 

This is the dumbest thing you've ever done.

Throwing out your invasive thoughts, you prepared to cave the door in and stab the monster in the heart. If it had been your choice, you'd shoot it, but you didn’t have any silver bullets on hand.

You kicked the door in, sweeping your weapon through the room, but there was only the victim. Her breathing was labored, and you weren't dumb enough to try and help her before you ganked the shapeshifter.

You tried to signal that you were on her side, but she just sobbed into her gag.

"No, 'honey, I'm home'?" a male voice called.

You froze. Shapeshifter.

The shadow in the hallway crept up until his figure was visible, and his eyes were glowing. "Oh… but you're not him. You're a hunter, aren't you?" he said. "Here to slay me, little girl?"

"I'm here to make sure you don't hurt any more families."

"I'm sure you are." He smiled. "Are you going to come and stab me, then?"

"Considering it."

"You're afraid," he sneered. "You're a poor excuse for a hunter. You're inexperienced." He grinned and started walking forward. "Stab me, little hunter. Do your worst."

You charged, swinging at him with your knife, but he dodged the move. He kneed you in the stomach, stealing your breath. When you fell on all fours, he stepped down on your hand with the knife. "That was a stupid move."

The last thing you saw was the toe of his shoe.

///

You woke up, sick to your stomach.

Waking up feeling gross wasn't that abnormal, but it wasn’t usually this intense. You could tolerate a little hunger or thirst, or some smarting, but this was something else entirely.

Some kind of tarp was draped over you, but you didn’t have the energy to throw it off.

Your shoulders ached, arms pulled taut above you with no give.

You just tried to breathe through the pain.

A sawing noise came from your left. Through the ringing in your ears, someone was talking. Two someones. It clicked: you were in the sewers, and that sawing noise was Dean breaking from his ropes. Distantly, you wondered for how long. Guess that didn't matter now, though.

"...didn't just look like you. He was you," Sam said. "Or he was becoming you."

You were completely still. If they found you, you were dead… but if they left you, they'd kill the shapeshifter and you'd be left to rot. Both options sucked.

"What'd'ya mean?"

"I don't know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories."

You had to get out. But there was nothing to saw your hands against like Dean had. Just smooth metal and rope burns on your wrists.

"You mean like the Vulcan Mind Meld?"

"Yeah, something like that." Sam paused. "Maybe that's why he didn't just kill us."

Dean must have stumbled out of his ropes, because now his voice was traveling. "Maybe he needs to keep us live… for the psychic connection."

"Hands." Sam was being untied. "Yeah. Come on, we gotta go. He's probably at Rebecca's already."

"Wait," Dean said with a long pause. "The shapeshifter turned into that girl, right? So wouldn't that mean she's still down here?"

Your stomach dropped.

"I guess. Or he just removed her when he took us. For all we know she could be in a ditch," Sam said. "And honestly? Good riddance."

You weren’t sure if you were rooting for them to leave you or stay. Both options were bad.

"Or…" Dean said slowly. "She's just being quiet because she's afraid of us finding her."

Yeah, that about summed it up.

You listened to footsteps, deadly still and holding your breath. The footsteps stilled in front of you and you steeled yourself for the reveal.

The tarp was tossed away, and you stared fearfully into the bright green eyes of Dean freaking Winchester. Your mind was churning, working in fight or flight mode, but you could do neither. You were screwed.

The only thing that could save you now was the angels, and they didn't seem to be concerned enough to step in anytime soon.

"Well, hi," Dean said with a smile. It was smug and absolutely intended to be intimidating.

You stared, and that sick feeling in your stomach only deepened. Something told you that it probably wasn't just the anxiety making you sick, but you pushed it away. That could wait. Right now, you had other things to worry about.

Like, say, the Winchesters. 

And torture.

Dean raised an eyebrow to his brother, who walked around to get a look at you. "You know, if we had left you, the shapeshifter would have come back. Or worse—wouldn't have come back."

"I'm aware," you said, finding it difficult to hold eye contact with them. The look in their eyes was overwhelming.

They smiled at each other, clearly amused at your situation.

You gained the courage to snap, "You going to kill me or what?" There was no trying to get it through their thick skulls that you weren’t the enemy here. Plus, maybe if the angels really believed you were in danger, they'd rescue you.

Dean shrugged. "That's up to you. I kind of want to hear your end of the story."

You frowned. "Really?" Maybe there's hope here. Maybe you really can form an alliance—

"Nah, I'm just kidding. I don't want to hear what you have to say." Dean admitted.

You scowled. "I didn't kill Jessica." They were giving you time to explain yourself, so of course you were going to use it.

"You were the only one there, and Sam saw you."

"I was there to save her. Figures you'd think I can just put someone on the ceiling and set them on fire."

"I wouldn't be too sure. Looks like you made a handy dandy flame thrower out there. Who's to say you aren't the thing our Dad has been hunting?"

"I wasn't even alive when your mother died. I'm telling you: I. Am. Human." You thrust your hand out, showing them the burns. "See? Scar tissue. I'm a human being—"

"How do you know that? How did you know about our mother?" Dean demanded. Of course he'd focus on that comment. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"It's not like it's a secret. It was written all over your father's journal," you lied.

Sam squinted. "Who are you?"

You let your head fall back onto the pole. Just kill me already. "Someone who just wants to go home."

"Boohoo for you," Dean spat.

"At least you're able to look for your family."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

You yanked at your ropes, and the Winchester's tensed. But you were still held tight. "We don't have time for this. Either you kill me right now, or you take me with you. Does the name Rebecca ring any bells?"

They scowled, but it got them moving. Dean nodded to Sam. "We'll come back for her."

You twisted to look at them as they walked away. "What?! No! Wait! But I can help! Just untie me and I can help!"

"Not a chance," Dean said. "See, I don't trust stalkers." And he walked away.

"Please," you said. "Please... I... please I don't… I don't feel right." Your voice echoed. Pipes dripped in reply.

They had already left you.

Your mind ran. Your breaths were shallow, biting back the nausea that threatened to overtake you. You blinked, slow and long, feeling off. You had to get out. Whatever acid trip you were on, you needed out of the ropes and out of the sewer.

If you had a little slack… you might be able to gnaw at the rope and loosen it. But that would mean dislocating your shoulder.

You braced yourself, getting ready to pull your arm out of your socket, but you chickened out. The anticipation was making your heartbeat like a drum against your chest. You can’t do that. You can't, your anxiety told you. It'll hurt. You don't know what you're doing. You've never done this. It's going to hurt.

But your logical side argued back. All it takes is one motion. One swift second and you could break yourself free, with the downside of shoulder problems. You don't want to be down here, tied up and defenseless. A dislocated shoulder won't hurt you—but the Winchesters and a shapeshifter definitely will. Do it.

You were pretty sure you were going to have a panic attack if you kept thinking about this. You took a breath, and swiftly yanked.

The pain was blinding. Your vision went white and you screamed. You panted heavily, riding through the wave of agony before it became a constant excruciating burn.

You reached your mouth for the rope on your good arm—since you could reach it now—and tugged at it with your teeth. It was old rope, and it tasted like dust. You pulled just enough for the loop around your hand to loosen, and it was free. You then worked the rope away from your neck and abdomen and, lastly, untied the rope around your dislocated arm.

You stood up too fast and saw a sea of grey. The jostling of your arm had you stumbling onto your knees and vomiting what little bile was in your stomach. Gross.

The shapeshifter would be back soon with… Emily, was it? Or was it Becky? Rebecca. You were losing your focus.

You also didn't know how to reset a dislocated shoulder. Just looking at it was making you queasy. The bone was pointed upward, your shoulder flattened. It was bruising and swelling, and god it hurt. It looked so unnatural you thought you might puke again.

You didn't though. You steadied yourself, knowing what was ahead of you: you were going to have to relocate it yourself.

You had no choice. Nobody to run to. Everyone that you knew was your enemy.

You braced your back against a metal pole, grabbing your arm with your good one. You pulled it straight forward, not yanking, but attempting to guide it back in. You cried as it popped back into place. 

You wiped away a few stray tears with your good hand.

You then worked on a temporary sling with the rope that had been used to tie you up. It turned out kind of sucky and awkward, as you only had one hand available, but it was enough to keep the arm steady against your chest. 

Your arm still freaking hurt.

You peered around, squinting at the shiny pile in the corner of the room. It had a tarp over it, but it must have shifted and revealed it's contents. You walked over, marveling at the mass of silver weapons just lying around.

"You keep it here? Just lying around? For anyone to take?" You grabbed a gun loaded with silver bullets (which was probably the Winchester’s, now that you thought about it), and your silver knife as a token of your survival.

Now to get the hell out of here, you thought.

"That could be my catchphrase," you muttered. Your chest was still heaving, in pain and in adrenaline. What a nightmare.

You ran, biting your tongue as the motion shook your arm. But there was no time to care, and definitely no time to pity yourself.

Somewhere behind you, there were echoing footsteps.

"Cas," you said softly. Shakily. "Cas, if you're out there, please come and get me. I know we're not on the best terms… but my arm, I got a bum arm and I'm in trouble—please—"

There was no reply.

You huffed. Typical. You took one more turn through the sewers, and you saw light.

The footsteps grew louder and as did your heart. You reached for the grating, working at the screws to try and pry the thing open. It took effort though. It hurt your fingers to strain like this, twisting each screw until they clattered noisily onto the tile. You grimaced each time, taking little glances to see if the footsteps matched a shadow.

As you worked on the last screw, you watched you—not actually you, shapeshifter-you—march your way. It was like looking into a fun house mirror. Except not so fun.

You pushed the grating away, shoving your frame through the entry. You rolled, struggling to get on your feet so you could run off.

A hand grabbed for your feet but you managed to stumble back, knife raised in front of you with your bad arm.

The shapeshifter crawled into the light like it was normal to walk on all fours. He mimicked your terrified look, then smirked at you. "Are we back here again? You know you'll never win." You watched as he drew closer, tensing.

When he was just five feet in front of you, you said, "No." And he paused. You whipped out the gun with your good arm, shooting him right in the chest. He floundered at first, but then crumbled into a motionless heap.

"I don't make the same mistakes twice."

The shapeshifter was dead. You stared at your face—its face—as you swayed and the world dipped with it, your mind snuffed out like a candle.

You were caught by two sturdy arms.

///

Tags: @rosaren2498 , @pillowjj , @busy-bee-angel-misska , @elle-r , @dagnylokisdottir , @omg-we-really-doo , @millieccino , @rycbar-221b

[sortasirius]

5 or 19 for Destiel. :)

Hello my friend because I have been so bad at writing prompts or one shots you get BOTH

Link to post

Prompt me up!

5. “WHO LEFT THE TURKEY IN THE OVEN?!”

Words: 1053

A Christmas fic???  I guess my brain just wants the year to be over lmao

Three hours, thirty two minutes, and twenty seven seconds. Sixteen minutes and twenty five seconds until his next check.  Dean is not anal-retentive, thank you very much for asking, he just knows that turkeys have about a five minute window from being raw to being like eating sand. It is an exact science that he has perfected over the years.  And that is not going to be messed up tonight.

The bunker’s halls are filled with cheesy Christmas music, the smell of the meal that Dean has literally been working on since dawn wafting into every room.  It’s their first Christmas as a real family, with Jack back and, well, whole.  With Eileen, with Cas.  Dean hasn’t had a Christmas since before he went to hell, and even though he clutched that night to his heart like a precious scrap of paper, he’s excited to have a holiday where they don’t have to worry about the next big bad thing coming to get them, or to have tragedy hanging over their heads. To, you know, be normal.  Well, as normal as you can get when they had all died multiple times and two of their guests were angelic in nature, the other one recently resurrected from the great beyond.

“You need to talk to Cas,” Sam’s voice comes from the doorway, and Dean barely spares a glance in his direction, too focused on his goal to think about much else.  Eileen is with Sam, looking concerned.  Concerned enough that Dean stops chopping onions and wipes his hands on his apron (aprons fucking rock).

“What d’you mean?  What’s wrong?”

“He says he caught wind of a case,” Sam’s eyebrows are knitted in concern, “He wants to leave.”

Dean feels the color drain out of his face, which is a little embarrassing.

“He wants to leave?  Like now?”

“Yeah, he’s grabbing some stuff and getting ready to go.”

Dean stares at them, and then at the oven, where his masterpiece is roasting.  He checks his watch.  Okay. He has about twenty minutes until he needs to take it out.  Well, seventeen minutes and forty-three seconds to be exact.  Dean sways on the spot, torn between his carefully prepared and polished bird and having an empty place at the table he had carefully laid out the day before, with the place next to him being empty.

Neither sound appealing, but one makes his gut twist. He decides to handle that one.

He washes his hands methodically, trying to get them as clean and onion-free as he possibly can.  Approaching Sam and Eileen, he pokes Sam in the chest.

“Watch that turkey.  It’s gotta come out in,” he checks his watch again, “Fifteen minutes and fifty-seven seconds.”

“Okay Dean.”

Dean narrows his eyes and stands his ground, looking between both of their amused faces.

“I’m serious.”

“I can tell you are,” Eileen grins at him, “Please just go get Cas.”

Dean sways again, taking one last sweeping look at the kitchen before stomping towards Cas’ room.  Empty.  Fuck.

He checks the garage, the basement, checks in with Jack in his room, before finally hearing clanking in the armory.  Fucker, gonna take his guns on Christmas Day before he can have his turkey?  Dean doesn’t think so.

Cas is methodical in his movements, checking which weapons he was taking and diligently marking them on a list.

“You headed somewhere?”

Cas’ eyes meet his, and Dean’s hostility immediately melts.

“I caught wind of something, but don’t let me put a damper on the festivities, I’ll be back shortly.”

“And this can’t wait?  You know, until I could go with you?”

Cas’ shoulders sink a fraction of an inch.

“What’s going on, Cas?”

“I’m just not feeling very festive, human holidays always feel strange to me.  So I don’t want to put a damper on anything.”

“So you’re just gonna go?  What about-” he cuts himself off, not wanting to sound like he was begging him to stay or anything.

“Dean-”

“Come on Cas, I,” he takes a deep breath, steeling himself to say the next words, “I didn’t get a lot of, uh, happy holidays growing up. It was just me and Sam and I, I was just excited to have a Christmas with everyone, with a real kitchen and have everyone, I don’t know, have someone.  Sam has Eileen, Jack has all of us, he’s the kid, and then…you and me…”

The words sound closer to the truth than he meant them to.  But Cas’ eyes soften by degrees, Dean could always tell that because they seemed to turn a lighter shade of blue.

“You and me.”

Dean opens his mouth, trying to make his thoughts into words, thoughts that had been buried in the back of his mind for years, literal years.

“You know, we could, be something.”

Cas smiles this bright and blinding smile, something so brilliant that it takes Dean’s breath away, but he doesn’t have time to get it back before Cas closes the space between them and pulls Dean forward by his flannel until they crash together, and Dean searches for Cas lips so quickly it’s a little embarrassing, but he doesn’t really care.  Cas’ lips are soft and chapped and warm and Dean sighs into his mouth, relaxing as the tension between them, pulled taught like a string, finally eased.

Cas is the one to break the kiss, but it’s so gentle that Dean knows it isn’t a rebuke, just a wait til later.  Dean could live with that.

“So no hunt?”

Cas smiles at him.

“I suppose it can wait.  After all, it’s only a spontaneous combustion or two, nothing we can’t handle.”

Dean reaches for his hand instinctively, and it isn’t until he smells a too done smell coming from the kitchen that he starts running, dragging Cas with him.

“WHO LEFT THE TURKEY IN THE OVEN?!”

Sam comes skidding into the room, only barely registering that Cas and Dean are, in fact, holding hands, but grins as he nearly drops Dean’s overdone turkey on the floor in his haste to stop it from burning.

Sam is sufficiently guilty for his transgression, but despite the dryness of Dean’s masterpiece, when he’s holding hands with Cas under the table, he doesn’t really care.  People always come for the potato casserole anyway.

19. I love you more than I love food.

Words: 722

Dean’s never been sure where his love of cooking comes from. Hell, it’s not like he ever had a real kitchen growing up, and he sure wasn’t slinging meals when he was five years old and hunting was just a thing he did for bugs in the backyard.  He had to work with what they had when they were growing up, even when they stayed with Pastor Jim and Bobby, it wasn’t exactly five star dining.  He had come up with foods to keep Sam entertained though, maybe that was where he got it from.  The best thing they had were Funyuns crunched up with hot dogs and ketchup.  Sounds gross, but when the gas mart down the block is the only place you can walk to to get food and you only have ten dollars to get through the week, that kinda shit rocked hard.

Now that he has a real kitchen, and access to a real grocery store or, even though he hates to admit he goes there, a farmer’s market, Dean cooks all the time.  He falls asleep watching food network or The Great British Baking Show, he writes down ideas for recipes on the notes in his phone, sometimes even when he’s half asleep, and then he has to try and remember why he thought garlic and strawberries would ever be good together.

The only thing Dean loves more than cooking?  Eating.  It’s always gratifying to have Sam or Jack or Cas compliment him on his meals, but if he loved his food it was just an extra bonus for his ego.  

Sam starts to notice something though, he notices before Dean does which, retrospectively, pisses Dean off.  Dean doesn’t eat when Cas does.  He always takes a bite in between Cas’ bites, and watches Cas closely for a reaction, good or bad, to whatever is on his plate.

Dean laughs at Sam the first time he tells him this.

“No I don’t,” he rolls his eyes, going back to prepping his bell peppers for the oven.

“Oh yeah you do,” Sam grins at him, “Pay attention when we eat tonight.  You like refuse to eat when Cas is there.  It’s funny.”

Dean tries really hard that night not to not eat when Cas does but…come on, he’s gotta see if he likes the peppers with goat cheese right?

Unfortunately, his inability to eat when Cas does becomes a running gag with Sam.  He mentions it constantly, even getting Jack in on it, but whenever he mentions it to Cas, Cas just cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes.  Him not saying anything makes Dean that much more self conscious, but he tries not to dwell on it.  It doesn’t work.

Dean tries to pretend he has everything under control, until he makes himself and Cas some pretty epic turkey and swiss sandwiches for lunch one day, and he realizes he’s doing it again.

“Sam is right,” Cas points out, looking up from his sandwich.

“He tends to be, more than I’d like to admit,” Dean grins, his eyes scanning the room, landing anywhere but on Cas.

“You won’t eat when I do.  Why?”

Dean is afraid to see accusations in Cas’ eyes, or worse, understanding.  Understanding of something that not even Dean really understands.  Well, he does if he really thinks about it, but he doesn’t want to think about it, sue him.

“I don’t know.”

“Dean.  Look at me.”

Dean does, and then he’s under the force of Cas’ eyes, and he has a really hard time lying when he’s looking at Cas.

“Why?”

“I guess…I don’t know.  I love you more than I love food.”

Cas seems momentarily stunned by his words, but Dean thinks it’s a pretty good comparison, even though he, you know, said the “l” word. That’s fine, he won’t think about that until he has a spiraling panic attack late at night tonight.  That’s a future Dean problem.

“Well I also love you more than I love food,” Cas side-eyes Dean with a playful smile on his face.  He thinks he might be being teased.  And he’s not mad about it.

“That’s not fair, you’ve never cared about food.”

“I care about yours.”

Dean grins, still staring at the table.

See this, this is why he loves cooking.

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine working at Freddy’s Pizzeria, and trying to tell your dad something is wrong. (Bad End)

So this is an alternate ending to Part Two of this series. It’s been bouncing around in my head so I finally decided to write it.

.

It starts off the same way as the original part two, but there are some small differences.

~~~~~~~~

The black Impala cruised to a stop in front of the pizzeria. Three people got out of the car, stopping by the trunk of the car to grab a bag before headed to the front door. The youngest of the three started to unlock the door, while the tallest looked around uncomfortably.

“Y/n, are you sure you want to be here? These things did try to kill you.” Y/n jiggled the key and cursed under his breath when the door didn’t unlock.

“Yes I’m sure. Besides, I’m the one with the key and a general idea of the layout of this place.” Sam tried to peer inside the dark restaurant, only able to see vague outlines. He could’ve sworn that something had moved just out of sight.

“Still…” The lock clicked, and y/n opened up the door.

“Here we go. Welcome to the freakiest place on earth.” Dean whistled as he walked in the door, glancing around at the decrepit pizzeria.

“Damn, who did they hire to make this place?” Y/n slipped by his dad and started to make his way to the security office. The time on his watch read 11:55.

“Doesn’t matter now, let’s find out what’s going on here and get out.” The three headed towards the security office, and y/n couldn’t help but feel like something was watching them. Perhaps it was just paranoia.

Sam glanced around warily, the restaurant setting off creep factor alarms in his head. “So the article said that five kids disappeared here, and they were never found but suspected to be murdered. How many animatronics did you say there were?” Y/n shook himself out of his thoughts.

“There were four last night. I didn’t see a fifth one but the waitress said they retired one of them a long time ago.” The office was as dimly lit as it was last night. The only sign that y/n had been attacked was a faint bloodstain on the floor. Y/n’s shoulder ached with the memory.

Dean glanced around and turned back towards the exit to the office. “Me and Sam will take a look around, you stay here in the office and watch the cameras.” Y/n went over to the walkie talkie station and grabbed three, handing one to his uncle and his father.

“Alright. Everyone’s walkies should work fine here.” Sam and Dean nodded, headed towards the office door. Dean stopped in the doorway and turned back to y/n.

“Y/n?” The teen looked up at his father.

“Yeah dad?”

“Stay safe.”

<—>

Two hours, and nothing had happened. None of the animatronics were coming near the office and Sam and Dean hadn’t found anything yet. Y/n idly flicked through the cameras, noting where each animatronic was. It unsettled him that they weren’t attacking, but there had to be a reason. Maybe it was because there were other people tonight?

It was on camera 2B that y/n stopped to look. The poster of Freddy was…wrong. That was the best word for it. It was yellow now, and it didn’t have eyes. Y/n could’ve sworn it was a poster of a brown Freddy last time he checked.

Grabbing the walkie, y/n pressed the button and spoke. “Dad? Not sure if this is important but camera 2B caught something odd.” Dean’s voice came crackling through the walkie.

“We’ll go take a look. Everything good there?” Y/n leaned back in the chair and stretched, keeping an eye on camera 2B. Even if it was just the camera malfunctioning, the poster was creepy as hell.

“Yeah, nothing has tried to kill me yet.” Suddenly the screen for the camera started becoming staticky. The words ‘IT’S ME’ began to flash across the screen. There was the sound of a little girl laughing behind y/n. He whirled around only to be hit over the head by a large, yellow hand.

“Y/n? Y/n!” The sound of his father’s voice on the walkie was the last thing y/n heard before he blacked out.

<—>

When he woke up, y/n was in a dark room lit by a single lightbulb. The yellow Freddy stood in the corner of the room, silent and unmoving. He tried to move only to find his wrists and ankles bound to a chair.

“Good to see you awake.” Y/n turned his gaze to the doorway of the room, stifling a shout of surprise when he saw the rabbit animatronic. It was more deteriorated than the others, and the fact it spoke unsettled y/n deeply.

“Who the hell are you?” The yellow rabbit moved into the room, and y/n gagged at the scent that lingered around it. Even from a distance the smell was pungent.

“My name is not important. But I suppose if you must call me anything, a few former employees used to call me a ‘Springtrap’. Not that it’s important now.” The rabbit, Springtrap, circled around y/n. When he came to a stop in front of y/n, Springtrap knelt so he was at eye-level.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m just trying to find out why the robots tried to kill me.” Springtrap shook its head and tsked.

“I don’t care why you’re here, or what you think you’re going to accomplish, but understand that there are some very delicate plans I’ve made and you’ve forced me to make a move much earlier than expected.” Y/n leaned back away from Springtrap, more to escape the smell than anything.

“So what? You kill me? Have the animatronics rip me apart? They already tried that and it didn’t work.” The raspy laughter from the talking animatronic unsettled y/n. Springtrap stood and walked over to the yellow Freddy, flicking it on the nose.

“You know, I debated it. But you know what they say; if you want it done right you should just do it yourself.” Y/n twisted his wrists, trying to loosen the thick wires that tied him to the chair. All he accomplished was making the skin red and raw. It was just his luck to be stuck in a room with a homicidal robot, wasn’t it?

“So your big plan is what? Be a gross robot bunny and haunt a crappy pizza place?” Springtrap turned around and spread out his arms.

“I’ve only just begun. Once I am done people will flock to me! Think about it; why pass of old age when you can live forever? I may not be much now, but I can assure you it’s only temporary.”

“So why kidnap me? Why not just kill me?” The deteriorating rabbit grabbed y/n’s chin and brought his face closer to the rabbit’s. Y/n swore he saw something in Springtrap’s mouth, almost like a skull. That couldn’t be possible, could it?

“Who would think about buying immortality from me in this state? It would be so much easier if a young, lively entrepreneur offered a solution.” Y/n didn’t understand what the rabbit meant, until it finally clicked in his head. He wasn’t dead because Springtrap needed a living body.

“Oh hell no.” Y/n started tugging harder at the wires binding his wrists, causing them to bleed in his efforts to get free. Springtrap chuckled at his attempts.

“Now now, don’t hurt yourself. And enough talk, I only have limited time to do this.” Springtrap placed his large hands on either side of y/n’s head, closing his eyes to focus. “This might sting a bit, but afterwards there won’t be any pain.” For a moment, nothing happened and y/n was sure that the creepy ass rabbit was making stuff up.

Pain suddenly exploded in y/n’s head, and he screamed. It felt like he was being ripped apart and burned alive, he couldn’t see, couldn’t breath and there was something crawling into his head—

“HEY!”

BANG!

The shotgun shell hit Springtrap’s shoulder, causing him to stumble over. Y/n’s head dropped to his chest, panting hard as his eyes shut.

“Y/n!” Dean kept the shotgun trained on the unmoving animatronic rabbit as Sam ran over to his nephew. The teen was pale and his breathing was shallow now, and the tallest Winchester feared that the rabbit animatronic had done serious damage to his nephew.

“Hey, look at me. Are you alright?” Y/n’s eyes opened slightly and blinked in confusion. It was a long moment before he answered.

“I...I think so.”

“Good. We’re leaving here.” After y/n was freed from the chair, the Winchesters left the pizzeria in a hurry. None of the animatronics bothered them as they left.

<—>

Y/n’s arms stretched above his head as he headed towards the bathroom. It was rather early in the morning, and neither Sam or Dean were awake yet. As soon as the three had gotten back to the motel, y/n had collapsed on one of the beds and slept like a dead man.

After a long hot shower, y/n dressed and turned to the mirror to fix his hair. Couldn’t have it looking like a birds nest. Wiping the fog away from the mirror, y/n’s reflection stared back at him with bright purple eyes.

A grin worked its way across his borrowed face, and the teenager crept out of the bathroom and grabbed the car keys from Dean’s jacket. In just a few minutes, the black Impala was cruising out of the motel parking lot and soon, the town boundaries. In the rear view mirror, the sight of Dean and Sam running out of their room caused a laugh to escape the car thief.

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.” William Afton (for that was who was in control of y/n’s body) adjusted the Impala’s mirrors and drove on. Just a few hours and he reached his destination.

“RE-OPENING SOON” A sign proclaimed. “CIRCUS BABY’S ENTERTAINMENT AND RENTAL”

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

.

Let me know if you think the bad end should have a part two to it!

[imagining-supernatural]

Avenging Angel: Part 42

Summary: You’ve spent the last five years on a dangerous mission to solve the crime that wrongly imprisoned your father. When the Winchesters find you half-frozen on the side of a mountain, they make it their own mission to save your life and make sure you stay alive. But after five years of uncovering horribly dark secrets, you’ve learned not to trust anyone. Especially people who seem like they have good intentions.

Word Count: 1714

Warnings: None

Avenging Angel Series Masterlist

*****

StonyGurl499: How’s the rich life treating you? ~t9

It had been a while since you’d been able to talk to t9. Ever since moving in with Braxton, finding time alone was hard. Any time you had to yourself, you used to snoop through his family’s life.

You had to find answers about your family somewhere.

You just had to.

LivingForFlyFishing: They use salad forks ~Up6Dn

LivingForFlyFishing: Like, for every meal

LivingForFlyFishing: Then they hire someone to wash the salad forks so they don’t have to do it themselves

LivingForFlyFishing: Because they can afford that shit

StonyGurl499: Wanted: Salad Fork Washer. Duties Include: Washing salad forks only. Not the soup spoons or dessert plates. Just the salad forks.

God, you’d missed joking with t9. It was a relief to have this moment, untouched by the gross manipulation you’d been weaving. Sure, you knew very little about t9, but they were your friend. You weren’t lying to them. They weren’t lying to you. There was no reason for them to lie to you.

LivingForFlyFishing: Shut up

LivingForFlyFishing: Have you found anything on the Cs?

StonyGurl499: I’m sure you’ve found more than I have

StonyGurl499: Dad C just seems like a sleazy businessman. Par for his course though

StonyGurl499: Your beau is pretty normal, as far as rich dudes go

Beau? That was a dated term if you’d ever heard one.

LivingForFlyFishing: Yeah, B seems normal. He’s nice. I hate doing this to him.

StonyGurl499: But you have to. For your dad. Right?

You barely spoke of your dad to t9. Sure, t9 was your friend, but your dad was the topic that you held closest to your heart. Beyond the hacktivist group you and t9 ran for a few months, you barely knew anything about them.

Except that they were rich enough to just wire you ten thousand dollars on a whim, whenever you needed it.

LivingForFlyFishing: Yeah. For my dad. I still feel slimy when I use the credit card B gave me. Feels like I’m committing fraud.

LivingForFlyFishing: When you gave me money, it wasn’t slimy

LivingForFlyFishing: How’d you get so much so fast anyway?

You trusted t9, sure. But that didn’t mean you were wary of them. Why they had decided to help you out was a mystery and you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth… but I suppose you could try to take a peek.

StonyGurl499: Wired it from the Cs bank acct. Trust me. They’ll never notice my hack

LivingForFlyFishing: Haha. V funny. Keep your secrets if you want.

LivingForFlyFishing: but if you find something on the Cs and don’t share, Imma disown you

*****

*****

“You know, Y/N,” Dean started, purposefully not looking at you.

He had to keep going, right? Like, he couldn’t just stop once he started something. Not now. Not while you were stopped in the middle of nowhere getting gas on your way to kill your mother with your ex-boyfriend.

Besides, you only had a few minutes until Sam came out from the bathroom.

“Yes, Dean?” You prompted. You’d been on the road for hours, and this was the first time the two of you were alone. Obviously, Dean had waited until Sam left.

Dean huffed a deep sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “You and I… We… well, we haven’t really had it easy. We haven’t always gotten along.”

“This is not news to me, dude.”

“Would you shut up and let me finish?” He whirled around and finally faced you. Exasperation, you’d found, was the easiest way to get Dean to stop procrastinating.

“I would if you would actually get to the point.”

“The point is that I actually think I like you. You’re good for Sam.”

How could words make you feel so warm? And so quickly? Your brain hadn’t even processed the words, but your heart felt warm. “Thanks, Dean. That… that’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, yeah. I just felt like I should say that. Just—just in case. You know, just in case…”

“Shit happens. I get it. I just… I don’t know. You’re the feel emotions in silence kind of person. Didn’t expect you to get all gushy.”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes and finished gassing up the car. And things were back to normal.

“No, seriously, while we’re doing this, you wanna, like confess anything else? Like… I don’t really know. But you’re already being all—”

“Fuck, Y/N, I try to be serious one time…”

“I like you too, asshole,” you said, laying a hand on his arm for a second before walking around the car. As soon as you had the barrier of the car between you, you leaned against the frame and looked him straight in the eyes. “I feel like this is it, Dean. By this time next week, everything is going to be done. It’ll be over with. So, I want you to know that even though we never really got along, I like you. And in a weird way, I even respect you.”

“You’re gonna make me say it too, aren’t you?”

“No,” you answered his question quickly. “And I’m not selfish enough to think that the few weeks I’ve spent with Sam will mean anything in the long run, but if something happens to me…”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Dean promised, eyes locked on yours. “I’m his big brother. It’s what I’ve always done.”

You managed a stiff smile. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“I could say the same about you.”

You were so done with this conversation. “You ready for this? Whatever comes next?”

“Sweetheart,” Dean replied, leaning against the other side of the car. “One thing I’ve learned is that we’re never ready for what comes next. But we’re gonna give it our all anyway.”

“Give it our all,” you repeated softly. “I guess the last five years of my life have built to this, hasn’t it?”

“One way or another, it’s all gonna end.” Dean let you turn those words over in your head while he finished up gassing up the car before he turned to you again. “You think you can handle it?”

The bell over the door to the gas station rang and you looked up to see Sam walking towards the two of you.

“I don’t know. Dean, I have no idea what I’ll do next. I mean, I started this insane mission to prove that my dad was innocent and… well… he’s d-dead. And I can barely believe everything I’ve learned since. And… I just don’t know.”

He nodded just as Sam reached your side.

“We good to go?” Sam asked, snaking his arm around your waist.

“At this point,” you said softly, keeping your eyes locked on Dean’s, “we don’t have an option, do we?”

“Let’s go.” Dean finished filling up the gas tank while Sam held open the back door of the Impala for you to get into.

The immediate second after Sam closed the door behind you, your phone rang. And you nearly ignored the call, but Braxton’s name lit up the screen and you answered after a deep breath. “Hey Brax. We’re, like, six hours away.”

“Change of plans, Y/N,” he replied. Dean and Sam both got into the car and looked back at you at the same time, immediately keying into the change in tone. As soon as the door were closed, neither spoke, waiting for your cue. And you waited for Braxton to explain. “We have an eye-witness placing your mom back in Virginia. She’s mobilizing her forces now. I’ve started moving my armies that way.”

“Armies,” you muttered under your breath. You hadn’t thought of the upcoming conflict as a battle, but I guess it was time to overcome your denial. “Right. Okay. So Virginia. I, uh, We’re not even close.”

“Tell me where you are and I can send a jet to you.”

You asked Dean where you were, since you’d been paying more attention to poring over your Dad’s research than the road. “Just outside of Grand Junction, Colorado.”

He repeated your location to someone beside him before returning to your conversation. “Drive to the Grand Junction airport. I have a jet in Denver that I’ll send to pick you up there.” There was a loud crash and he hurried to finish up the conversation. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you when you’re on the jet, okay? It’ll be at the airport in just over an hour.”

“Okay.” What else do you say in these scenarios? “Be safe, Brax.”

“You too,” he said shortly, obviously distracted by whatever was happening where he was. “Talk to you soon. Love you. Bye.”

“I—yeah. Bye.” Love you? You literally just stabbed him. Like, not figuratively. You had a knife and you plunged it into his arm. “Uh,” you said, catching sight of the boys watching you expectantly. “He’s sending a jet. It’ll be at the Grand Junction airport in about an hour.”

“Airport?” Sam looked between you and Dean and sighed. “You gonna be good with that?”

The reminder at your HELLicopter ride made you want to reflexively punch him for subjecting you to the memory, but you managed to refrain. “Yeah. I’m good on planes. You can, you know, close the window and pretend you’re not in the air. Helicopters are just torture devices.”

Sam nodded slowly, clearly not fully convinced.

Then you caught sight of Dean shifting in the front seat and avoiding all eye contact.

“Dean?” You asked. His eyes flashed to yours briefly before he started fumbling with the keys, turning the car on. “Holy shit. You’re scared of flying.”

“Shut up.”

You couldn’t exactly tease him for his fear, since yours was so similar, so you just sat back.

Sam, however, had no such qualms. “Just my luck. I’ve gotta fly across the country with two people scared of flying. Got my brother scared of planes, my girlfriend scared of helicopters, and here I am. Scared of nothing.”

He smirked at the both of you, clearly teasing, yet enjoying himself all the same.

Dean, however, was not about to let his little brother get away with it. He turned, looked Sam right in the eyes, and simply stated: “Clowns.”

Which shut Sam up right up.

*****

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[dannifielding]

When I don’t feel like writing, or when I’m hiding from writing Danni, I tend to fall into rewatching Supernatural. And, as such, Amelia tends to rear her head and I get flashes of scenes from the episodes I’m watching.

I’m an OC fangirl, sue me :P

Anyway, I don’t know if anyone is interested, but this is what I write when I’m not writing Danni. I’ve tried to put them in some order, and most of them kinda just... stop. I just thought some of you might be interested 🤷‍♀️

It’s very long, so under the cut.

Also, you may notice a change in ship. She jumps, a lot. I mean, I don’t blame her, it’s a very hard choice, but be warned.

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

Season 06- somewhere near the middle

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

“I’ll go get Amelia,” Sam declared, standing up from the small table. Dean nodded his agreement as he continued to look through the case files.

“Tell her to Fed up,” he instructed and Sam rolled his eyes.

“What else would I tell her?” he countered. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Dean retorted and Sam glared, resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at him, and stormed out of the room and to the one next door. He knocked on the door a few times.

“Amelia, we’re found something,” he called but there was no answer. He frowned and knocked again. “Amelia?”

There was still no answer, which was rather unusual and gave him enough concern to pull his gun out along with the spare keycard to her room. He unlocked it and stepped cautiously in. “Amelia?” he tried. “Are you here?”

There was no one in her room, but also no sign of any struggle or any distress at all. There was the sound of the extractor fan in the bathroom though and he lowered his gun, feeling rather ridiculous and also rather glad that Dean wasn’t there to see his over reaction. He walked over, all ready to knock on the door and let her know.

“Fuck.” He froze, hand up to knock on the door, at the loud moan that came from the bathroom. “Fuck, Cas.”

When his brain kicked into gear, his first overwhelming thought was horror, then embarrassment, then a little bit feeling gross that he’d caught his childhood friend in a rather compromising position.

He then thought, as the childish part of him reared its rarely seen head, about telling Dean and how they could tease the hell out of her for having to spend her time solo.

“Amy…”

The gruff voice was a lot more startling and his eyes widened because he didn’t struggle to place it at all. It was a voice he wouldn’t have bet any money on hearing. Were they…

He turned and walked straight out, only taking the time to close the door quietly so they didn’t know he was there. He walked straight back into his and Dean’s room and stood by the door. Amelia hooking up with someone wasn’t exactly news, it was just one of the things she had in common with his brother. Cas, though… How did that even work?!

“Did she say how long she’d be?” Dean asked, fastening his cuff on his shirt. He hated wearing the shirt. He felt like he was going to a wedding. He glanced over at Sam and frowned at the look on his face. “Everything alright?”

“Um, I don’t think she’s coming,” Sam replied, then immediately grimaced at his choice of words.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“She’s- uh- she’s a bit busy,” he replied, pointedly. “In the bathroom.”

“In the…” Dean started before his eyes lit up. “Oh! Walked in on her riding the train solo, eh?”

He was smirking slightly but Sam shook his head. “Not solo,” he corrected and Dean’s mind suddenly filled with a million and one more ideas.

“Man or woman?” he asked.

“Angel.”

Dean frowned. “Angel?” he repeated and Sam nodded. They weren’t exactly best buddies with the angels, and most of them were dickless ken dolls, who the hell would…

His eyebrows shot up. “Cas?” he asked and Sam nodded.

“Oh yeah,” he confirmed. “Getting pretty hot and heavy as well.”

“How do you know? Getting a good listen, were you?” Dean shot back. Sam didn’t appreciate the tease, but Dean did appreciate his offended response.

“No, they were,” he pulled a face, “loud.”

Dean scoffed. “Nah, I’m not buying it,” he said bluntly. “She’s always had a little crush on him, but this is Cas. Cas. He wouldn’t know what to do with a naked chick even if she was stood in front of him explaining the instructions.” He pointed at the wall. “In fact, we took him to strip club and he did exactly that.”

“I’m telling you, it was pretty clear- Wait, you took an angel to a stripclub? When was that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean dismissed. “That can’t be Cas. She must have just been getting a bit carried away.”

Thud!

They both looked at the wall that separated the two rooms like it was about to break down and reveal something worse than hell behind it. There was another thud.

“Bar?” Sam asked and Dean nodded.

“Bar.”

~0~0~0~

Amelia checked again to see if the light was on in the room next door. It was dark now, and getting late and neither brother seemed to be about. They’d not left her any messages, or asked her to go with them, so she assumed they hadn’t disappeared on anything case-related, but it was always a little concerning when people in their line of business weren’t where they were supposed to be.

The first time she’d checked she’d given them the benefit of the doubt, the second time though was rather more worrying and so she knew she had to find them. She was about to call Dean when she heard the distinct roar of a ’67 engine and relaxed slightly. The Impala pulled up and she held her hands out in confusion.

“Where the hell did you two go to?” she asked as Dean climbed out first.

She looked annoyed and confused, but Dean immediately remembered the thud on the wall. “To the bar. We found a lead,” he explained, storming to the door to their room.

She followed him in. “I didn’t hear you go,” she said. “When did you leave?”

“Like, three hours ago,” he replied, pulling off his jacket. God, formal wear was just awful. How did people wear suits all day?

“Wait, what?” she asked. “Why didn’t you come get me?”

“You- er- you were busy,” Sam offered, pointedly, as he locked the door behind him.

“No, I wasn’t. I could have come too,” she protested. “Why are you leaving me out of this?”

Dean looked at her,unimpressed by her anger. He motioned between him and Sam. “Oh, we’re not leaving you out of anything,” he told her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sam went to go get you. He walked in on you getting off in the bathroom.”

She wasn’t expecting that. She tried not to act too surprise, instead going on the defense. “I was having a shower, Dean,” she corrected.

“No, you weren’t.”

She glared at him. “Fine, whatever,” she exclaimed. “Like you’ve never gotten a bit frisky when you’re on the road and needed some time on your own.”

“Oh, I hold my hands up to that,” Dean replied before he pointed at her. “But you weren’t alone, were you?”

“Yes, I was…”

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

Season 06 Episode 18

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

Cas touched them both on the top of the head, and they were gone. His arms lowered rigidly and he turned to look at Amelia. He could sense her unease, and he didn’t blame her. He was confident in his ability to bring back Sam and Dean, but there were bigger issues that may stop him. He needed to be careful, everything hung in the balance and if he failed them, if he failed her…

Castiel!

He grimaced, unable to meet their gaze. “I have to go.”

“Already?” she asked, a little surprise. “Cas, you’re exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” he said, hoping to reassure her but immediately realised how sharp his tone had been. He met her gaze and her concern did not abait. “I’m fine,” he said, this time softer.

Bobby cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “What about getting the boys back?”

“Pray for me in 24 hours, and I’ll return.”

“I’ll pray for all of us,” Bobby muttered, turning around to pick up the timer. By the time he looked around, Cas had disappeared in a flutter of wings. He started the countdown and looked at his goddaughter, who was staring at where Cas had been stood. He still wasn’t sure how much he approved of her and Castiel, but she was happy, and ultimately that’s all that really mattered to him.

“You alright there, Princess?” he asked and she looked at him like she’d forgotten that he was there.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m—I’ll be fine,” she told him. “Beer?” He nodded and she headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She then immediately shut it. “How are we out of beer?” she muttered to herself. It was a pretty strong staple in their house, the milk went sour before they ran out of the good stuff. “Uncle Bobby, gotta nip to the store!”

“Alright, Princess.”

She grabbed the keys to the Impala – Dean would never know, nor did he need it right now – and smiled to herself. “I might drop in on Jody,” she called. “Want me to send her your love?”

“Piss off.”

She chuckled to herself as she stepped outside. She liked to spend time with Jody, they got on rather well and it was nice to have someone who knew about the bad in the world yet still lived a normal life.

She started when the door shut behind her and Cas was stood there. She frowned. “I thought you had to go?” she asked him as she walked over. “Is everything alright?”

Her concern felt both wonderful and incredibly deceitful, as every encounter they had together now did. She was always worried something would happen to him, that he would get hurt, but he knew that the moment she found out what he’d done then it would all fade away and he would be left with nothing.

“You seemed concerned,” he told her. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am concerned, I want you to be okay,” she replied, using his own words against him.

“I am fine,” he promised.

“You’re tired,” she countered. “I can see it, Cas. You know you can’t hide anything from me. Me being concerned for you isn’t going to change.”

Again, it was like a stab in the heart for him. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

She smiled slightly. “I don’t want you to worry about me,” she told him. A small little smile broke out on his own face as he realised that she was pointing out the pointlessness of him trying to stop her being concerned for his wellbeing. He’d never stop worrying about her.

“I suppose it would be fruitless if I tried to convince you that you don’t need to?” he stated and she nodded along.

“Can I convince you that, although worried, I am also fine?” she asked and he shook his head.

“No, I guess not,” he said and she shuffled slightly on the spot, smiling fondly at him.

“I’m fine, Cas,” she promised. “I’m sure you can’t spare the time to check on me every time you see me frown.”

He couldn’t. It was definitely out of the question, but he’d not been able to stay away when he’d seen the look on her face. He never could.

Castiel!

His head hung. “I have to go,” he told her before looking at her, desperately hoping she could offer him a reason to stay that he could, in all good conscience, take.

All she could do was smile sadly in her own heartache. “If you need me to come, Cas, if you need me to fight…”

“I will,” he cut her off before she could finish her offer. He never would. He wouldn’t risk it, even if he had no other option. He gave her a little head bow and disappeared.

She stared for a moment before taking a deep, sad, shaking breath. Every time he disappeared in the flutter of wings, she worried that he would never go back. She knew it was both foolish and selfish, but she didn’t worry about him losing the war, she worried about losing him to the war. She worried her hands together and she pulled herself together. She wasn’t going to cry, or mope about. Sam and Dean were in the past finding the ash of a phoenix for their big task, her Uncle Bobby was doing his best to help cull the rise of the monsters they had seen. She needed to pull her weight, and at the moment that meant fetching the beer and visiting her friend.

She really wished she’d kissed him, though. She would hate to regret that if something…

She shook her head and purposefully turned towards the Impala, about to barate herself for being such a sap.

Cas was stood right behind her. She almost walked straight into him. Instead he grabbed her and pulled her in for the kiss she’d wanted to give him. He held her tightly, like she was all he wanted and it never failed to make her insides flutter. She clung to him just as tightly and wondered, for a moment, if the war could just wait a few minutes.

He broke off and pressed his forehead against her. “I really have to go,” he told her lowly. “I want to stay.”

“I want you to stay too,” she told him. “We’ll get some time next time around.”

It was hope they both had, and a fact that was diminishing every day. They both missed each other terribly, and it was something they couldn’t share. There were bigger things going on, and neither of them wanted the burden of being too sad.

With one, last, briefest kiss he was gone and this time she knew he wasn’t coming back. Well, not until it was time to bring back Sam and Dean.

Still, she smiled coyly to herself and did a little, happy dance on the spot. She’d gotten her kiss, and it was good.

She then quickly looked up at the sky. “You better not still be watching me,” she warned the air before she finally climbed into the Impala

Despite how much he wanted to, Cas wasn’t watching her. Her Uncle Bobby was, though. He watched her out of the window with Castiel, watched how happy she became just at him being there, and couldn’t help but feel a little happy himself. The ‘dad’ part of him didn’t want anyone near his little girl – man, woman or angel. However, times were crap and any sort of goodness was more than welcome, and he was glad it was happening for her.

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

Season 06 Episode 18 Ending

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

“You can’t be serious. You’ve only just healed yourself up, will you just sit down for a few minutes?”

“I can’t,” he snapped, frustrated not with her, but with how many times they’d had the same conversation, always wishing for a different outcome. “With Rachel, I need to find out who else is turning against me before it’s too deep to stop.”

She understood, she really did. It was just so hard to watch him go. But he didn’t need her to be clingy, he needed support. “You better come back,” she warned.

“I always do,” he replied. He looked at Dean. “If you need my assistance…”

“Yeah, we’ll call,” Dean finished for him. “Just- Just take care of yourself, man.”

It was an uncomfortable sign of affection, but Cas took it gratefully. “I will endeaver to do so,” he told them all. Just as he readied himself to disappear, to head back to what was going to be a messy cleanup and more paranoia, Amelia’s hand shot out and caught his.

She didn’t look at him straight away as her heart pounded painfully. More than ever, something felt very wrong with her angel and the panic was almost overwhelming. Their life was full of darkness at times but she was suddenly hit with a wave of pure terror at the idea of him leaving.

She looked up and met his gaze. “I love you,” she told him.

All four men were very surprised by the sudden declaration from her, but none more than Cas. They had said it to each other before, that was true, but she’d been rather open with the fact that she didn’t feel comfortable saying it in front of her family. He knew they, as a little group of illfitted humans, could contain their emotions a bit too much, and hid behind bottles of alchol. He didn’t mind, because he knew that she meant it when she said it, and he had absolutely no doubt over his own feelings for her.  But hearing her say it so bluntly when he knew she would rather keep it between the pair of them gave him a rush of reassurance he didn’t know he needed.

He could do this, he could win this war, no matter what it took, because there was a beautiful, caring, hopeful woman who backed him every step of the way.

He held her hand tightly. “I adore you,” he replied before flying off.

Amelia stared at where he had been stood for a few moments more before turning to look at Sam, Dean and her Uncle. Immediately they all looked away, caught at staring at her. “Not a word,” she warned, her voice hard. She didn’t threaten them, but all of them quickly nodded.

“No, no, nothing to say,” Dean quickly agreed.

“Nope,” Sam added.

She nodded once before turning and walking out of the house. They all watched her leave before Sam turned to Dean.

“Did she…”

“Yep.”

“Do you have any idea?”

“Nope.”

~0~0~0~

Amelia wasn’t sat outside long before Dean appeared. He sat on the hood of the car, his feet dangling next to hers. “You know, I think we’re getting a bit old to be sitting on top of a pile of cars,” he commented. She didn’t reply, so he handed her the bottle of beer. They sat in silence until he took a swig.

“So, the big ‘l’ word,” he stated and she looked at him.

“Dean…” she started in warning.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” he promised. She relaxed slightly. “I’m just thinking that it must suck, watching him leave all the time.”

She turned to look at him, about to shoot some snarky comment about how it must have sucked leaving Lisa, when she saw the sympathetic look in his eyes. He wasn’t making fun of her, he was being there for her. Her best friend, through everything.

The lump in her throat that she didn’t seem to be able to get rid of felt like it was trying to choke her again so she swallowed it down. “I’m terrified,” she replied quietly. “All the time.” He didn’t interrupt, he just sat and listened and once she realised that she couldn’t stop. “I mean, we’ve got the Mother of all monsters roaming free down here, but we’ve got a war going on over our heads that’s bigger than anything we could even imagine. I-I thought we’d stopped the apocalypse, but it’s just a moment away from being rebooted and I should be worried, I should be focused on that but all I can think about is—” She trailed off for a moment, her voice disappearing again. “There’s this angel, in the middle of it all, who’s holding it up by the skin of his teeth and I’m going to lose him to it. I’m going to lose him to this war. Even-Even if he wins, he’s going to give everything to it and I’m going to lose him.”

She ran a hand over her mouth. Saying it in her head was fine, where she could quash it down and hide it behind a full wall of denial. There was something about saying out loud that was more devastating than any thought she’d had so far. “I’m going to lose him.”

“Hey,” Dean said, pulling close and she started crying. “You’re alright.”

She clung to him tightly, once the tears started coming they didn’t stop. The weight of the fear crushed her. She curled up towards him and he realised, for the first time, just how much she had been hiding from them all. He knew they were sleeping together, he’d known that for a while, but he’d thought it was more a friends-with-benefits type affair, with maybe with it being a little less casual. He thought she had been optimistic about everything, she was always telling him to pull his head out of his ass when he was complaining too much.

He tightened his grip on her, rocking her slightly like he had done to both her and Sam when they had been kids.

“He’ll be okay,” he promised her. “You’ll see. For a scrappy little angel he has it all under control.”

“I’m so scared, Dean,” she whimpered. “That war is going to tear him apart.”

“I know, I know,” he replied before shifting her so he could look her in her eyes. Big, wide, wet eyes that looked at him like he knew all the answers. “You’re right, it’s terrifying, but you know what? We’re not alone in this. We’re all going to be fine, we’re all going to win and we’re all coming out the other side of this, alright?” She sniffed. “Alright?”

She nodded. “Alright,” she said softly. He knew she didn’t quite agree with him, but that was alright. He could pretend a bit longer that he believed it so she would too.

“You know,” she started softly, a little timidly, after they’d sat in silence again for a while. “He took me to Disney World.”

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

Season 06 Episode 21 Ending

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

Dean scrambled into back of the car, holding Lisa as tight as he dared. Ben climbed into the front next to Sam without even thinking the moment the blonde held the door open for him.

“Amy!” he barked. “Get in the damned car!”

“There’s not enough room. Get the hospital,” she commanded.

“You can’t stay here, there’ll be more demons around,” Sam told her.

“There’s not enough room,” she repeated firmly. “I’ll make my own way. Get to the hospital, save her!” She slammed the door shut, knowing that they didn’t have time to argue with her.

Dean didn’t want to leave her there, but knew she was right and despite his concern knew that she could take care of herself. “Ben, give her the knife,” he instructed. The boy, still in shock, stared at his mother because he couldn’t see anything else. “Ben!” His gaze snapped up. “Give her the knife.”

He hadn’t said a word since the demon had poofed out of his mom, and that wasn’t any different as his handed it out of the window that Sam had already wound down for him. Amelia nodded then stepped back so Sam could zoom away. She just hoped they would be okay. She hoped they would make it in time to save her.

There was a bang behind her and she spun, knife firm in her hands. She couldn’t stay where she was, she had to move. She started running away from the warehouse, only to quickly get lost within the dark, empty streets, which seemed to be completely devoid of all traffic, so her lowjack options were no existant.

When she felt safe, she stopped, panting, placing her hand on her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. She hoped to God, if he was even still out there, that Lisa was going to be alright. No one should lose their mom like that, and Dean… she knew Dean would never forgive himself.

She needed to do something. She hated feeling so helpless, that was all she was feeling. Helpless and alone and she just wanted to be at the hospital so she could help them, but she couldn’t. She didn’t even know what town they were in. Hell, she didn’t even know the state.

She also hated that she constantly felt like she was on the verge of tears. She hadn’t cried this much in years and she hated being the emotional one. No, she didn’t mind being the emotional one, she hated being the emotionally weak one. But there she was, standing on a sidewalk, totally alone and crying because she knew the one option she had was the one she desperately didn’t want to take.

“Cas!” she screamed. “Cas! Please!”

There was a fluttering of wings and she was still on high alert, so she turned around again, knife ready as if it would have made any difference. He already looked horrified and he stepped forward. “You’re hurt,” he stated.

She held her hand out and, to his credit, he stopped in his tracks. It took her a moment to realise she was covered in blood. “No, no, it’s not mine,” she quickly told him. She then reached up to her painful nose. “Well, most of it isn’t,” she said. “Some-Some of it might be, I’m not sure.”

“What happened? Who hurt you?” he almost demanded but all she could do was stare at him. Now he was here, his eyes blazing brightly, passionately, all she wanted was to both run to him and run as far away from him as possible.

“I—” she started before shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have called you. I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t be even thinking of you, but it was the first thought that came into my head.”

He looked creastfallen, her words physically wounding him. “If you just let me explain,” he started and she shook her head.

“No, no more explaining, no more words, Cas,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to hear it, you’ve hurt me enough. I’m not going to let you again.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m trying to save you,” he insisted. “I do love you, no matter what you think.”

She nodded. “I know,” she said softly. “I think that’s why what you’re doing hurts so much.” There was silence between them but, before she could falter, she took a deep breath. “We found Lisa.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “I’m glad,” he told her. “I was looking.”

She didn’t doubt it. “She got possessed by one of Crowley’s bitches and stabbed herself. Dean’s taking her to the hospital, but I don’t think she’ll make it. I think she’s going to die.”

That immediately took his relief away and she felt a little bit of pleasure at knowing that it did. It felt dirty, but she liked it. “I never meant for this to happen. If I had thought that Crowley would hurt them, I would have done something sooner.”

Her face hardened. “Then do something now,” she told him. “Save her.”

“Of course,” he replied. “Where are they?”

She shrugged. “I don’t even know where I am,” she said, almost whimpering. “But-But they would have gone to the nearest hospital. I-I don’t—”

She was shaking, she was in pain and he stepped forward. “You are hurt,” he said decisively. “Let me just—”

She moved instinctly away from his hand. “Don’t,” she instructed. “Don’t help me, help her. Please, Cas. Please, just-just save her. Don’t let her die.” Her voice broke and her head hung. Her hands moved in front of her until she was holding them in front of her like she was praying. “Please, if she dies, Dean will never forgive himself, and please just help him.” She fell forward, onto her knees. “Please, Cas. Help her. Help him. Help me.”

Her begging broke his heart, and he was absolutely horrified to watch her fall to her knees in front of him. It shouldn’t have even been a thought that he wouldn’t help them, and that she thought that he wouldn’t help her was even worse. He also knelt on the floor in front of her and took her face in his hands to force her to look at him.

“I will always help you,” he promised. “You never have to fear me.”

She used to always be so sure that she knew when he was lying, but now as she stared at his bright grace, she wasn’t sure if he truly meant it. “I’ve spent so long being terrified of losing you to this war, that I missed the fact that I already had,” she whispered, devastated.

“You haven’t lost me. I’m right here.”

She shook her head. “I think that you’re further gone than even you realise,” she replied. She leant in and kissed him, and he welcomed her, holding her close, terrified of letting her go.

She broke the kiss softly. “Save Lisa,” she commanded softly. “Please.”

He nodded.

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

Season 09 Episode 01

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

Dean didn’t know what to do. He hated feeling that he was out of every option. He hated feeling like there was nothing he could do but leave it up to ‘God’. Who the hell was he, anyway? He was a doctor! He was supposed to be clinical, unrelentless and smart! He wasn’t supposed to leave it up to some smuck who had decided to leave the world to burn!

God wasn’t going to answer. Cas wasn’t going to answer. The angels out in the world weren’t answering yet and he was sat in a chapel and he really wasn’t sure where to go from there. He was on his own and without ideas.

He couldn’t just sit there. He got off the bench and stormed out, each religious symbol just pissing him off more and more. His brother was dying. His best friend, the woman he loved, was dying. He didn’t know what to do anymore.

~0~0~0~

Amelia Miller was strapped to every machine that could keep her alive, but that was all they were doing. Much like Sam, the doctors were convinced that everything that made her up had long gone. They kept her breathing, they kept her vital signs nice and steady, but that’s all they did. They kept her alive.

Dean had washed the blackness from around her eyes. He’d taken the time with a soft cloth, apologising for messing up her makeup because he knew it annoyed her when her makeup was smudged. Her lids felt much too soft for there to still be any eyeballs underneath, but he kept cleaning and he didn’t dare check. He needed her to still be okay. He needed some good news. For once.

He spent his time between her and Sam, waiting for an answer off someone. He couldn’t sit still.

Amelia was on her own when she sat up in bed. Her eyes were wide but she couldn’t see anything. Her mind was foggy but she still tried to look down. In the darkness shaped appeared. She felt down her arms, feeling the wires and tubes that were attached to her. She didn’t know what they were for, she didn’t know where she was, but every part of her said that being attached to anything was a bad idea. She winced as she ripped the patches off her skin, scrambling with her fingers to find and detach herself with as little pain as possible, but also as quickly as possible. She didn’t remember much of anything, but her fight or flight instinct was telling her to fly.

She was starting to see more shapes, more shades of light in the darkness as she stumbled out of the bed she was on. She moved over until she found a wall and followed it along with her hands. She just needed to find the door. She just had to get out.

Someone grabbed her and she screamed, turning and pulling her fist back. “Let me go!” she screamed.

Whoever it was caught her wrist. “Woah, Amy, calm down,” the voice tried but she used their grip to turn them around, trapping them against the wall. They groaned at the force she used and she used the feeling of power to try and calm the panic she was feeling at her vision being gone.

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you’re going to tell me,” she snarled.

The person didn’t struggle. “Amy, it’s me, it’s Dean,” he told her. “Remember? Dean Winchester.”

Amelia faultered slightly. “Dean?” she asked.

“Yes! Can you- Just let me go, alright?”

Dean could very easily throw her off, she knew that, which was why she wasn’t too sure if she believed him or not. His voice sounded right, though, and she couldn’t prove it anyway. She backed off and the person immediately grabbed her arms. “Hey, you’re alright,” he reassured her. “Do you remember me?”

She nodded as she, in turn, reached out and took hold of his arms. “Yeah, I do,” she replied softly. “What-What happened? Where are we?”

“We’re in hospital. You and Sam—” He paused as his voice caught, which wasn’t reassuring. “You were both in a bad way. Lets get you back to bed, eh?”

She held onto him tightly, shaking her head. “I-I don’t know where the bed is,” she admitted. “I-I can’t see anything.”

Dean wasn’t surprised at all. Her eyes were bloodshot, with barely any white left, except for her iris which were bleached right out of most colour. He’d definitely not seen anything like it, not on anyone living anyway. He shifted so he was holding her close. “That’s okay,” he told her. “It’s probably just a side effect. Come on.”

He helped her sit down on the bed. She felt it dip as he sat next to her. “What do you remember?” he asked gently.

“Not a lot,” she admitted. “I remember being with Sam, and you turned back up to get him to stop the trial. We helped him outside and then…” She shrugged. “Then I woke up and I can’t see. What happened?”

Dean didn’t say anything for a moment. He didn’t know where to start. “When Sam stopped the trial it hit him pretty bad,” he started softly. “He’s in a room down the hall. They don’t think he’s going to make it. I’ve-I’ve called Cas, I’ve prayed to everyone but no one’s listening.”

“No,” she whispered, horrified. “No, that can’t be right. No matter how busy Cas is, he’d never leave Sam to die.”

“Metatron really had him convinced he was doing the right thing,” Dean replied. “But, whatever happened, it was what Naomi said. The angels fell.”

“Then—” She turned to Dean, trying to see him in the small amount of shadow she could see. There was nothing. “How am I alive?”

“I don’t know,” he told her. She flinched slightly as something brushed against her cheek, before she realised that it was her hand. He was turning her so she was facing him properly.

“I guess I’ve not come out of it well, though, have I?” she said softly. “Do I look bad?”

“Nah,” he replied. “Your eyes just need to heal. I’m surprised you even have any, after…”

“After they were burnt out?” she finished for him. His hand dropped from her face. “Did I leave wing marks?”

He nodded, then realised she couldn’t actually see him. “Yeah, I thought you were dead.”

She reached out slowly, hand shaking to copy his move and cup his cheek. His stubble was really starting to grow in. His cheeks were damp. She wished she could see his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” she whispered. “About Sam, about everything.”

She hugged him tightly and he held onto her like there was nothing else keeping him grounded. She sniffed, then started crying softly, then started to sob. Dean held her onto her tighter. “Let it out,” he said encouragingly. “Just let it out, Amy.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” he promised. “We’ll fix it. We’ll find Cas, or whoever, and we’ll fix it.” He pressed a kiss on her hair. “We’ll fix it.”

~0~0~0~

Sam’s eyes flickered as he woke slowly. “Where are we?” he asked almost instantly, even before he’d woken up properly. He sat up in the passenger seat and Dean took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance over at him.

“Woah, Sam?” he asked, trying to keep his attention on his road but all he could think about was his little brother, who looked like he was waking up from a long nap rather than a next-to-death experience.

“What?” he asked.

“Okay, take – take it easy,” Dean instructed. “How you, uh – how you feeling?”

Sam shifted in his chair, trying to get the crink out of his back. “Tired,” he replied. “Tired. Like I – like I slept for a week.”

“Well, try a day,” Dean corrected, much to his surprise. “You've been out since the sky was spittin' angels.”

“What the hell happened?”

Dean looked him over for a moment, like he assessing him. “What do you remember?”

“The church, feeling like crap, the angels falling…” Sam’s eyes widened. “Amy! She was-She was dead. Oh my god…” He looked ready to start bawling, or panic, or something.

“Calm down, Sam,” she said from the back seat. “I’m fine.”

He spun in his chair. “Woah!” he exclaimed at the sight of her. She was still bruised up, her eyes looked like she’d been poisoned.

“I guess I don’t look alright, Dean,” she said pointedly. She was staring roughly at the back of his head, then turned to where Sam was. “How are you feeling, Sam?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he dismissed. “What happened? You were on the floor. There were scorch marks. You had no eyes.”

“It was something to do with Metatron’s spell,” she explained. “I guess the angels falling must have really done a number on me.”

“But your eyes. You look like you’ve gone seven rounds with Andre the Giant.”

She shot him a little sardonic smile. “For decorative use only, I’m afraid,” she replied. “They’re all but useless.”

“You’re blind?”

She nodded. “Pretty much. Making me all but useless as well.”

“Hey!” Dean barked. “I told you about that. We’re going to fix it. The fact that they grew back at all says you’re probably going to get your eyesight back eventually.”

Sam turned back around in his chair, falling heavily against it. They’d watched her scream, and the light burst from her like an angel who’d been killed with a blade. She’d fallen to the floor with burnt out eyes and burnt out wings. She’d been dead. Seeing her lifeless body was the last thing he remembered before he’d woken up.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” he said sincerely.

“You too,” Amy replied softly. Sam was. He was grateful and releaved that they were all okay.

He frowned, looking at Dean. “You've been driving around with me passed out in the passenger's seat for a day?” he asked, confused.

“Oh, I mean, I stopped, you know, let a few Japanese tourists take some pictures. Nobody got too handsy.” Sam rolled his eyes. “I knew you'd pull through,” Dean told him. “I meant what I said at the church. You're capable of anything, Sam, and hell if you didn't prove me right.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Good. 'Cause we got work to do.”

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Season 10 Episode 14

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Sam shut the barn door closed behind him. Dean dipped back into the shadows. This was all happening so fast. He’d expected more time, he’d wanted more time. It was one thing to be fine with the idea of dying, it was quite another to be facing it square in the face of a man who he’d seen way too much of himself in.

He turned to Amy, who looked ready to fight, and he knew that her mind was racing over every single way she could help him. Always by his side, forever faithful. Everyone else – his parents, Cas, even Sam – came and went. She was always by his side. It kept him strong, and focused. As long as he had one person to look out for, he was okay. As long as he had one person who cared about him, he was okay.

He was going to miss caring about that.

He grabbed her hands which caused her to look at him in mild surprise. “I love you,” he told her with every last bit of conviction he had. If he was going down swinging, he didn’t want anything left unsaid. He wanted her to know that, while he was still himself, she had taken over his heart.

“Dean,” she breathed, eyes wide. “I—”

He cut in before she could say it. He knew she was going to, but he wasn’t sure he could handle hearing it. “And I’m sorry,” he continued, his voice gruff. “I’m sorry that it won’t mean anything soon, but right now it does and I do.”

“You don’t know that,” she insisted. “I know you’ll be okay, Dean. Even if you don’t.” She tugged on his hand, bringing him closer. He didn’t fight her. “You’ve always been so fucking pessimistic.” She leant up and kissed him. It was frantic, and rather hot, and it didn’t last long enough. The barn door opened behind him and Crowley stepped out first, followed by Sam.

/// Episode stuff.

“Plus, I need you three out here, to take out whatever comes out of there,” he said. “And I’m serious I mean, whatever comes out there.” He looked between the four before his eyes fell on Amy. “But not her,” he said. “You three. Not her.”

“Of course,” Cas replied and Amy nodded slowly. She was a coward for it, she knew, but she didn’t want to take Dean out. She didn’t think she could. Whatever came out there would have his face, would be her friend, no matter how messed up.

She didn’t realise how defeated she’d felt until Crowley handed the Blade to Dean, and he looked at it like he was finally complete again. Not happily, not hungrily, just whole again. Her hand shot out and she grab Cas’s tightly, squeezing it as she struggled to hold herself together. He looked at her, stunned slightly, but didn’t let go. He let her take her comfort, he would always let her.

“Dean?” Sam asked, concerned. Dean slowly looked to his brother before giving him the reassuring smile of an older brother who was trying to downplay how scared he was so his little brother would be okay.

“I’m good,” he promised before turning and walking away. He stopped just before the stairs that led up to Cain, free hand resting on the banister. “Not her,” he insisted again.

Amy swallowed, the lump in her throat hard. “I’m- I’m going to go outside,” she told him, trying to put some force behind her voice. “I’m not going to be here for any of it. I promise.”

He nodded, satisfied, then headed upstairs. The moment he disappeared through the doors she turned to Cas. “Help,” she whispered and he quickly nodded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m going to take her to the car,” he told Sam, who he was sure was barely listening. He nodded though and sent Amy a soft smile.

“Good. That’s a good idea,” he encouraged. “We won’t be long.”

Cas led her outside, to the Impala, which sat waiting for her owner to return, even though it was just a car. He was going to put her in the passenger seat, but she opened the back door before he could even be a gentleman and hold it for her. She sat down on the padded seat, door wide open. She stared straight ahead and Cas stood just outside, awkward but on guard.

“Go inside, Cas,” she told him. His brows furrowed confused.

“No, you need—”

“I need you inside, Cas. I need you,” her voice broke, “I need you to be there for Dean. I will be fine.”

He knew she was right, and that if Dean came out as badly as he had seemed to think he would, then he was needed more inside than standing watch over her. He just knew there would never be a time he would rather be doing anything but keeping her safe. “I wish you wouldn’t lie to me,” he said gently.

She looked up at him, and a genuine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “It’s not a lie. It’s a hopeful statement. Hope is never a lie, Cas. Go inside.”

He nodded and, after giving her shoulder another squeeze, shut the door and left her alone. She sat facing straight ahead, and then she cried.

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

Season 11 Episode 04 Ending

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

Amelia could have laughed at the sight of the Pizza spot that the door opened up next to. She’d been there so many times that she didn’t even have to be able to read the neon sign. The street was familiar, the sound of the road was familiar. She actually in Lebanon. The stupid angels hadn’t taken her far at all.

She stumbled down the street, trying her best to not walk too heavily on her ankle whilst, at the same time, moving as quickly as she could. She didn’t know how long she had before the angels came back but she wanted to be as far away from the building as possible. And, preferably, back in the Bunker.

She rushed past the first car she came across because she knew that, with its rather new computer system, it would take a bit longer to hotwire. The second one, though, was a bit of a fixer-upper and barely took her any time at all. And, considering that she could see two of almost everything, she had been sure that she would have electrocuted herself before she’d have gotten the car started.

She swerved quite a lot. The pain wasn’t debilitating as it was tiring. Everything ached so much, her wrists stung so much, that it was hard to actually be in pain. Every time she blinked she felt herself drift off further inside her head. It took everything she had to keep herself awake long enough to park outside the Bunker. She fought with the door, mainly because the door handle kept moving around and refused to stay in one place.

But soon enough, she opened the door, and stepped inside. She smiled even though the cuts on her face stretched painfully. She was safe. She was home.

Down below, Dean, Sam and Cas all rushed into the meeting room from the study. The two humans had their guns drawn, while Cas held his angel blade tightly.

“Who’s there?” Dean barked angrily. “How did you…”

Amelia stumbled forward, clinging onto the railings tightly. The cut by her lip was starting to bleed and she was rapidly loosing the fight against being unconscious. Her knuckles turned white with the strain of standing.

“Amy?” Cas asked, sounding as perplexed as normal. She turned, heading towards the stairs. She made it down three before she lost, her eyes rolling into her skull before she tumbled down to the bottom.

“Amy!” Dean cried out, rushing over to her side. He dropped next to her to feel her pulse. “She’s alive,” he told them both. “Cas…”

Cast didn’t need telling twice. He reached down and pressed his fingers against her temples. “She’s just unconscious. Minor concussion from the fall.” With a flash of light he healed her. “She’ll wake up soon.”

“What the hell happened to her?” Sam asked, looking down at his childhood friend.

“Don’t know,” Dean said gruffly. “But when I find out they are going to pay.” He moved to scoop her up, but Castiel took hold of her and lifted her with ease before he could.

“I’ll take her to her room,” he stated. “Then I will scout the area. She may have been followed.”

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

Season 11 Episode 14 Ending

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

Amelia felt sick. As she fell to the ground, her stomach churned and her chest ached. Sam was panting and Dean looked horrified, and she didn’t blame them, but neither of them knew. Neither of them knew what she’d done. What her and Cas had done. What her and…

She gagged, the bile rising and she shot off the floor. Dean and Sam watched her dash out and they quickly followed, only to hear her throwing up into the sink. They paused outside because neither of them wanted to deal with vomit, but then she screamed.

Dean immediately pulled out his gun, just in case Cas-Lucifier-whatever had turned up but she was on floor, hair clenched between her fingers as she started sobbing hard. “Woah, woah,” Dean said, crouching down next to her. “Hey. He’ll be alright. Right?” He looked up at Sam for backup, who also knew that her distress was coming from Cas’s new roommate. “Right?”

Sam quickly nodded. “Of course. It’s Cas, isn’t it? He’s survived-Well, he’s survived a lot. He’ll be fine.”

She shook her head. “I-I can’t…” she sobbed. “You don’t understand. I-I feel so—” She rubbed her arms and Dean frowned. She wasn’t comforting herself.

“Dirty,” he finished for her, much to Sam’s surprise. She nodded, which surprised him even more.

“You don’t—I—” She looked up at Dean. “I’ve been doing worse than I let on,” she told him, almost ashamed. “Since me and you- Well, since we stopped being a me and you, you know?” She swallowed hard. “Then, after the whole ‘angel’ debacle, I got worse. I just—” She met his gaze. “Everything sucks. Everything fucking sucks, Dean, and I—” She started crying again and he rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to…”

“I know,” Dean replied. “It’s okay. What happened?”

She swallowed.  “I felt lonely, and sad and god knows that I needed to feel sexy…”

“You slept with Cas,” Sam finished and she nodded, again looking so ashamed of herself. It hurt Dean, he could feel it, but he didn’t say a word. He had given up the right to anything from her. They were friends now, nothing more.

“A few times,” she admitted. “And it was—” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Because all that matters is that I didn’t sleep with him until like, two weeks ago.” She was shaking. Every part of her felt like unclean. “I didn’t sleep with him until after we spoke to Lucifier.”

Dean and Sam shared a look. “Until he was Lucifer,” Sam said.

“I-I didn’t know it was him,” she sobbed. “I should have known. And… And I had no idea. And Cas has no idea. I-I did that to Cas!”

Dean pulled her close. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

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

Season 12 Episode 01

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

“It’s worth a shot.”

The bunker door opened and Dean shot up. Mary immediately pulled out her gun, although it took her a moment to tear her eyes off the tiny thing Dean had been using that, apparently, was a computer.

A woman stumbled in, hand on her head. “Cas!” she called. “Sam?!”

Dean and Cas shared a look. “Amy,” they both said. She walked down the stairs, wincing at the light. She’d been hit on the back of the head and left for dead in the forest. She wasn’t sure who by, or why, but she knew it wasn’t good.

“Cas?!”

“I’m here,” he started, motioning for Dean to stay put. He stepped out into the briefing room. “Are you alright?”

“Some bastard attacked me,” she grumbled. “I don’t know where they were…” She trailed off, spotting the blood on the floor. “What happened here?”

“There was a woman. She blasted me away and took Sam,” he explained. “And, Amy…”

“Amy?”

She had been walking over to Cas so he could heal the egg on the back of her head, but she froze at Dean’s voice. She leant to the side slightly and saw him standing in the archway, a soft smile on his face.

“Dean?” she asked softly. That wasn’t right, it couldn’t be…

“Hey,” he replied with a little wave. She pushed past Cas, who understood her happiness all too well. She rushed over to Dean, coming to a stop at the bottom of the small steps down, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Is it…” she started, reaching out to place a hand on his chest. He nodded.

“It’s a long story,” he stated. He was going to quickly explain what was happening but she pushed him back just enough to be able to pull him down into a kiss. Her arms went around his neck and he pulled her closer with his hands on her waist. He hadn’t known how much he needed to feel her lips on his, but he couldn’t resist deepening in, despite Sam being in danger and his mom stood in the shadows. She tasted like life, and booze, and everything he had known he was going to miss when he’d died.

She was the one to close the kiss and he pressed his forehead against hers. Both of them kept their eyes closed as they lightly panted. “Dean?” she whispered.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Is-Is that your mom hiding over there?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “The Darkness brought her back.”

“Oh, that’s...” She pulled back slightly. “That’s actually quite amazing.”

He smiled. “It is, isn’t it?” he agreed. He kissed her again, although not the passionate one he’d wanted when he’d come back to the Bunker, then turned to look at his mom, keeping an arm around her waist so she didn’t go too far away. “Mom, this is Amelia. Amy, Mary Winchester.”

Amelia gave her a small wave. “Hi,” she said lamely. “I mean… I don’t know what I mean, actually. I’ve heard so much about you it’s strange to see you here.”

Mary looked between the two. Between her eldest son, who was four years old not long ago, and the woman who he now had his arm around. The woman who, in her eyes, had practically chucked herself at her son.

She looked up at Dean. “Sam?” she reminded.

Amelia frowned at the obvious dismissal, but also looked up at Dean. “Do we know who took him?”

He shook his head, letting her go. “We have a car, though,” he replied. “Let’s go.”

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

Season 12 Episode 02

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

 There was a knock on her door but Amelia didn’t even look over her shoulder. She just continued to fold up her clothes, neatly putting them back into her drawers, her mind focused purely on the organisation of her room and not on anything else.

There was another knock, but she didn’t say a word. She chucked the next item of t-shirt over her shoulder onto the floor, missing her discard pile by miles.

“Woah, if that’s the reaction every time I come in the room, I’m going to have to come see you more often,” Dean said as he stepped in, closing the door behind him. She closed the drawer she was working on. The last she had seen of him he’d been in the kitchen, starting his way through a six-pack and she’d left him to it.

“You’re more than welcome to the discard pile,” she replied. “Although I’m not sure if you’d fit in any of them with the podge you’ve put on recently.”

“Hey,” he replied, offended. “I’m as fit as I’ve ever been!”

They both smiled at each other but the silence fell over them again. Amelia turned back to the drawers, starting on the next one. “How’s- How’s your mom doing?” she asked as casually as she could.

“Tired, I think,” Dean offered. “She’s had a lot to deal with.” He watched her keep her head down, pulling out items from her dresser. She wouldn’t even look at him.

“Well, we all have,” she replied. “Jumping 30-odd years into the future must be hard, but she’ll settle eventually. She gone to bed?”

“Yeah.” He walked over, standing beside her. She still didn’t look at him, chucking another piece onto the discard pile.

“Don’t blame her. It’s late,” she said airily. “I thought you’d all be asleep by now.”

“So you thought now would be a good time for a spring clean?” he questioned. She shrugged.

“No time like the present. I’ve got so much to get rid of and I was delaying doing it because it’s a pain the ass, but it needs to be done and...”

“Alright, alright,” he interrupted. “What’s wrong?”

She paused. “What?” she asked, sounding confused. He knew better and just stared at her until she glanced up at him. He could see the tears shining in her eyes and he grabbed the clothing from her hands, chucking it back into the drawer.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again. She swallowed hard.

“You-You were supposed to die,” she started. “And-And then you didn’t, and then your mom is back from the dead after over 30 years, and then Sam’s gone and there’s this whole new British Men of Letters bullshit and I can’t even imagine what that’s like. And then I-I had to watch you go, and then you weren’t dead and-and the first thing, the first thing, I do is kiss you!” She chucked her arm out to the side. “That’s not an okay thing to do, but I-I do it anyway and your mom and Cas are right there and you’re just back from the dead and who does that? Who does that, Dean?!”

If her rambling wasn’t an indication of her panic, the way she was getting louder and louder certainly was. Even after all this time he still felt out of his depth when she became incredibly upset. He held his hands out in front of him. “Woah, woah, woah,” he said. She stood still, despite having been moving to pace around, and stared at him, looking almost manic. “If-If you’re worried about me not wanting it, let me tell you,” his lips pulled up into a smirk, “you’ll not hear any complaints about it from me.”

She knew he was trying to cheer her up, and that his words weren’t necessarily lies, but it just felt like a stab in the chest. She didn’t reply straight away as her thoughts jumbled through her head, each digging a little deeper in her own spirialing self-disgust.

“I know Cas is in love with me,” she told Dean, much to his surprise. “I know he’s never stopped, not since we-not since Sam jumped into the cage. And I’ve never-I mean, he’s still in there. You’re both still in there. And knowing all that, knowing that when I was broken thinking I had lost you he was there for me, and I just… And you had your mom, and all I could think of was… Was…” She shrugged. “Kissing you,” she whispered softly. She met his gaze and her pain was more visible than he had seen in a long time. “I can’t keep watching everyone die,” she whimpered. “It’s too much…”

He pulled her close, wrapping her up. “I know it is,” he told her. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere. No one is going anywhere.” She was shaking and it broke his heart. His hold on her tightened. “And Cas understands,” he continued. “We both do. We both know what we’ve done to you. He won’t be angry, he won’t have even thought twice about it.”

“What do I do, Dean?” she asked. “I can’t keep losing you.”

He didn’t have an answer, he never did. There was always a part of him that would sacrifice himself to keep his whole family safe and happy, and that included her. He knew his normal instinct would be to took her hair behind her ear and gently encourage her to go find Castiel, who would bend the world to make her happy.

But he’d almost died, and as happy as he was that his mom was back he knew that wasn’t going to be an easy ride.

So instead of tucking her hair behind her ear, he tilted her face up to look at him. Confusion flashed through the pain and he couldn’t help but just watch her for a moment.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised again. “I—” He swallowed hard. “I can’t lose you again either, Amy. I came looking for you because I need you too much.”

“Really?” she asked and he knew she had a very valid reason  to doubt him. He just smiled and cupped her face, threading his fingers through her hair. He tilted her head a little further and kissed her again, softly and she whimpered into it. He didn’t deepen it, he closed it gently and watched her eyes flicker back open again.

“If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere,” he told her. “We’ve lost too much, this whole messed up little family we have has been torn apart too many times, and if we can, for one moment, have some happiness? I say we take it with both hands. Because we deserve that. We deserve at least that.”

She nodded and her lips pulled into a small smile. One little pep talk wasn’t going to change the world, he knew, but if he could make anyone smile for a while he’d take it. He placed another kiss on her lips before untangling himself. “Go to bed, Amy,” he instructed. “We’re not done, yet.”

She chuckled lightly. “Are we ever?” she replied cynically. “Lucifer’s still out there somewhere, right?”

He pointed at her as he headed to the door. “Exactly,” he stated. “And I have a mom.” He couldn’t help the smile that spread. “Can you believe it?” he asked her. She shook her head.

“It’s the first miracle we’ve had in a long time,” she agreed. “I really am happy for you. For both of you.”

He turned, opening the door and Amelia thought of all the clothes she’d chucked on the floor and how she would have to deal with that in the morning. She picked up the bra that Dean had ripped out of her hands and thought about how she needed some new ones. She thought about the trench-coated angel that she was pretty sure she had been god-awful to and how she needed him more than she cared to admit. She thought of Sam, who had gone to bed absolutely blindsided by his experiences and his mom. And Dean, her Dean, her best friend and the person who used to make her feel safe above all else, and how she had just began to feel the same again before he’d gone to his death, and it had been torn away from her.

Her heart raced, her panic spiked and, as always, her goto way to deal with it was to push it under everything else. “Dean?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

She shrugged slightly, showing her uncertainty over everything. “Spend the night.”

He knew that, in their pain, they all dealt with things in different ways. Sam would obsess, he would drink, and Amelia… Well, she had a very distinct way of drowning away her problems. He watched the smirk slowly spread on her face as his eyes glanced at the underwear she was currently holding.

He stepped back in and closed the door. Who was he to say no to that?

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

Season 14 Episode 03

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

Dean was never sure how he felt about the hugs he got whenever he came back from one of his stupid ideas. After all, it was his stupid stunt that had caused all of the worry and pain in the first place, everyone should be angry, not happy to see him. However, it was also nice to know that they were happy to see him regardless.

He had expected one from Jack, but he’d been a bit wary which he also could understand. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t show any trepidation as he held him tightly for a moment. Dean managed a pat on the back, but not much else. He wanted the comfort of his family, but he wasn’t sure he deserved it yet.

“Where’s Mary?” Jack asked once the greetings were done. Dean glanced around again at all of the hunters, looking for the blonde-haired one he couldn’t see.

“She and Bobby stayed back in Duluth to clean up the, uh -- uh, the situation,” Sam explained, casting another sideways glance at his older brother. Dean tried not to shift uncomfortably, knowing that the situation he was referring to was the one he’d created.

“Yeah, well, speaking of cleanup, I, uh I need a shower,” he told them. “Just gonna, you know, tell Amy the good news. She in her room?” He motioned over his shoulder, expecting them to just direct him to her. Instead there was a shared look he didn’t like at all. “What? What’s happened?”

“Um, she’s still in the infirmary,” Cas explained. “She’s still not well enough to leave.”

Suddenly a little paniced, Dean looked between him and Sam. “What?” he asked.

“She hurt herself…”

“Whilst on a hunt,” Sam quickly cut in, which just told Dean it had nothing to do with a hunt at all. “She was-She was fighting some vamps, they managed to get the best of her. We’ve cured her, she’s-she’s just resting.”

Dean just looked at his brother. “Uh huh,” he replied. “Well, that’s a load of crap.”

Sam sighed. “Look, Dean—”

“I know I’ve been out of the loop for a few weeks,” he interjected before he could lie to him anymore. “But I would rather like to not be kept purposefully out of it. That never goes well for us, does it?”

Cas and Sam shared another look, as if debating between themselves whether or not they should tell him.

Jack, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to their silent conversation. “She hurt herself,” he told Dean, who blinked in surprise. Jack’s brows were furrowed slightly. “It’s a human thing, apparently. I don’t quite understand, but Castiel explained it like she had a really bad flu, but in her head. Her bad thoughts were stopping her brain from thinking properly, like if her nose were blocked.”

Dean’s heart stopped for a moment before he turned and all but ran out of the room. Sam opened his mouth, wondering if he should call after him, but he just sighed inside. He turned to Cas. “Could you…”

“I’m on it,” he told the younger Winchester before following Dean.

“Was I not supposed to tell him?” Jack asked. “They are family, and you said family could know.”

Sam took a moment before clapping his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “It’s fine,” he replied. “I think Dean just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

~0~0~0~

Amelia really wasn’t sure that she needed to be trapped in a room anymore. She understood their concern – well, actually she didn’t, which had been part of the issue, but why couldn’t she just be trapped in her own bedroom? They complained that she slept all the time, but without anything else to do what was she supposed to do, exactly? Wallowing in her own misery was what had gotten her there in the first place.

She had just come from the small bathroom that the private room had, chucking the covers off the bed when the door opened behind her. Immediately she felt on edge and she sighed heavily. “Sam, I just went to the bathroom. I don’t need help with that,” she told him firmly.

“Amy?”

She quickly turned and saw Dean stood there, looking as shocked as she felt. He was wearing a vest and shirt combo – something she had never seen him voluntarily wear – but she barely paid attention to anything than the faint glow in his eyes. She took a step back, the side of the bed jabbing into the back of her knees. “How-How are you here?” she asked before she straightened slightly, smirking slightly. “I see that getting in really used up all of your mojo, didn’t it?”

It took a moment for Dean to realise what she was saying, and thinking. “Amy, it’s me,” he told her. “It’s really me.”

She stared for a moment, deciding whether or not she believed him. She was sure that if Michael had been in Dean still he wouldn’t have looked so rough around the edges. And it would explain the way he barely had any grace at all. “Dean?” she whispered and he nodded. She quickly rushed over, chucking her arms around him but, unlike Cas, Dean wrapped her up tightly and buried his face in her hair. He hadn’t expected to ever see her again.

“How-How are you even here?” she asked him.

“Michael left,” Dean explained. “I don’t know why, and I don’t know if I care right now.” He pulled away, looking down at her. He’d expected her to be in a bed, strapped to machines and barely alive, like some sort of movie scene. He’d not expected her to be up and about, or as grumpy as she’d sounded. “What the hell, Amy?” He grabbed her wrists, looking at them. There were no cuts, he’d been expecting cuts, but she was clean.

“Oh, Cas cleaned me right up,” she told him cynically, pulling her hands back. “Regular guardian angel, that one.”

[starlightsoulwriting]

Constellations Against Skin

n.t.

“You hold him in your arms, a thousand stars in the bones of a man, and nobody could have thought you’d come so close to holding constellations against your skin.”

Dean Winchester X Reader; Castiel X Reader

Soulmate AU

[AO3] [Chapter List]

Four: Polaroid

Dean makes an incorrect assumption about you, and you start a case.

You were ready to cut and run before the end of the first week.

But naturally you couldn't. Because Fate liked messing with you, apparently.

It'd been over a year since you'd lived with a roommate and it was a hell of an adjustment. Bobby was fine, you were used to him. What really frustrated you was that you couldn't even do any housework.

You felt like a freeloader.

So you took on fake FBI calls, connected hunters to resources, dug through mountains of lore, and tried not to feel bad about it. And even with all that, you still found time to work on your etchings.

But you were quickly running out of TV to watch when you couldn’t work. You can only watch T2 so many times before you did nothing but zone out.

You tried to find out what ritual Alioth had been putting together, but no matter what books you combed through there was nothing. And you still hadn't heard back about the weird oil on your clothes.

You'd sent it off to your friend, Sophie - one of the preeminent curse breakers in the US. If anyone could get answers it was her. But reaching out to someone like that also sent nerves swirling into your stomach. She was good at keeping secrets, you told yourself. Part of her job was discretion. You would be fine.

But using any contacts from the Continental's network was risky as hell. You'd managed to avoid the rest of the Morgans so far, but you had no way of knowing if they were looking for you. Looking for Echo.

But you’d shed that name like snakeskin, leaving it behind with the ‘family’ you’d broken. No one would call you that ever again if you had anything to say about it.

You would just have to trust Sophie’s professional reputation for now, and wait.

And read.

And sketch spell seals.

And try not to die of boredom.

By the third week you were just itching to charge into the first freakin hunt that came your way. But you were still beholden to the whims of your stupid goddamn cast. You couldn’t even cook your own damn meals, let alone kill a vampire.

You wanted to scream. Or bash your head against a wall. Or both.

And then you were reading.

And working.

And impersonating officers of the law on the phone.

Fun times.

At least Dean called about twice a week - at this point you were living vicariously through the Winchesters. And he was so fucking smug about it, too. But he was always happy to brag, so he indulged you and wove not-entirely-accurate stories of the hunts they’ve been on. He made himself out to be some big bad hero, of course, but that kind of made you like them better.

They even took down the ghost of a serial killer - and you were friggin pissed you weren’t there. How come they got to do all the cool stuff? You wanted to kill a serial killer.

It was embarrassing how much you loved those calls. At this point if Dean showed up at the house you would probably jump him. If your nerves and better judgment didn’t stop you.

You had three more weeks of horrible boredom to look forward to. Yay.

And so you worked.

And you prayed out of nothing more than habit.

And you searched for demonic omens.

At some point you actually found an old Gameboy you stole when you were fifteen. You’ve started seeing Tetris blocks in your dreams.

At five weeks you were practically vibrating out of your casts for all the pent up energy in your system.

Just one more week…

…

You nearly cried when you visited Sioux Falls General and they took the casts off.

Sweet, sweet, freedom.

And what did you do with your sweet, sweet, freedom?

Well, first off, you made sweets.

Bobby's kitchen, July 25th. A full six weeks after the attack. Overcast clouds rumbled outside with the summer storms on the horizon. The incandescent bulbs of Bobby’s old lights hummed on in the kitchen, lighting up the peaceful midmorning. You’d put an oldies station on the radio; the rhythms of the fifties and sixties floated through the air around you, and you’d opened up the window to let the breeze through. The house was too stuffy as it was.

So you hummed softly and swayed side to side, heartbeat slow and smooth. Calm.

Now that you had use of both your hands, you could actually cook.

You carefully draped pie dough over a ceramic dish before pressing it into the sides and fluting the top edge with your fingers. It was a messy job, your hand was still shaky and sore, but it would do its job just fine. You opened the oven door, sliding in the crust to bake by itself before you turned your attention to the sweet, gooey filling.

Pecan pie was your absolute favorite.

You didn't like to admit you could bake - you were a tough, badass hunter. You had a reputation to uphold, you couldn't be seen being domestic! The rumor mill was vicious, and you knew it would only end up with bro-dude hunters giving you shit. You already caught enough flack as it was, and you didn’t need any more.

But you did have a hell of a sweet tooth. And store-bought just can’t compare to something homemade. As soon as you had access to a real kitchen at Bobby’s place, you'd made up for lost time and taught yourself how to bake. He sure wasn’t going to complain - he got to eat what you made, too.

Although one time you forgot cookies in the oven and almost burned the house down. But that was just the once.

This would be the last chance you had to indulge for a while - you were going to start hunting again tomorrow. At least you hoped you would. It depended on whether you could find a case or not.

For now, though, you pulled the crust out of the oven, pouring in the filling and the pecans before putting it back to finish baking. The smell of gooey caramel was filling the house already, leaving your tongue watering. It had been too long since you’d enjoyed yourself.

Forty-five minutes on the timer.

You’d just started scrubbing out your mixing bowls when there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" Bobby shouted from the other room and went to answer, footsteps squeaking along the floorboards as he went.

"Hey, Bobby! Figured we'd stop by since we were close." A familiar voice rang through the house.

Oh no.

You were covered in flour, you had water splashed on your shirt from the sink, your hair was in a bandana of all things, and you were wearing a ratty tank top and sweatpants.

And Dean was there. Fantastic.

So you steadfastly ignored the conversation slowly drifting closer to you, continuing to clean the pan you’d used to make the filling, hoping that if you were quiet enough they wouldn't notice you. Because that made perfect sense.

"What smells so good?"

You squeaked, turning around to see Dean leaning against the kitchen door frame, while Bobby and Sam spoke in the living room behind him - something about vampires?

You cleared your throat and gave your best, stilted attempt at leaning casually against the counter. Your hand landed in a gross glob of flour, but you smiled anyway. "Pecan Pie." And your voice just cracked. Wonderful. God, you sounded like a wounded animal.

"There's pie?" The excited expression that lit up his face made your heart race to light speed. Shit, he was so cute and you were so screwed.

"It's not done yet." You nodded at the oven, butterflies almost escaping your stomach and lodging in your throat instead. Were you blushing already? You hoped you weren’t blushing already.

“I'm gonna go get cleaned up." You blurted out and left the room before he could respond, completely forgetting about the photo collection you’d left on the kitchen table.

Real fuckin smooth.

It’s official: You were a wimp and a fool and a coward. You bit back the frustrated growl threatening to leave your throat, and you rubbed at your temples. You were supposed to be cool, damnit! Just ask him out, what's wrong with you?

But he made your insides go all oogey-goey and your limbs feel like jelly and no one in your entire, fucked-up life had ever done that. You don’t think you could emotionally handle a one night stand with him, no matter how desperately you wanted to take him to bed. There was no way it would end well, not with your heart doing backflips at the mere mention of his name.

And Dean wasn’t exactly the relationship type. Neither were you really, but god, did you want to be, if only until it eventually blew up. Fuck.

It would be better for everyone to just do nothing at all.

So you kept muttering your misfortunes as you got dressed, shifting carefully into your jeans. Your leg was mostly healed, but it was still sore when you moved and wearing jeans was hard. Ugh.

You tried not to look at your empty ribs when you changed your shirt, but you caught sight of them anyway. It still made you feel like you’d been stabbed in the heart, but you swallowed the feeling down and shoved it aside behind as many emotional barricades as you could muster.

You could feel bad later. Always later.

It's not like soulmark would’ve ever lead to anything, anyway.

---

You’d ran away from him. For real.

He would’ve laughed at the panicked look on your face if it didn’t actually sting a bit. But shit, you were cute looking all domestic like that. The sight of you baking, in lounge clothes and covered in flour? It made the part of him that wanted the white picket fence life scream.

It was in his head now and would probably haunt his dreams.

Instead of lingering on his wounded pride and your rapid escape, Dean just sat down at the table, grabbing a beer from the fridge on the way.

“Beer ain’t free, kid,” Bobby called from the living room but Dean just waved him off.

“We’ll buy you some more.”

“With what cash?” That was Sam, with a scoff.

Thanks for pointing out how broke they were, jackass.

Dean rolled his eyes and decided to ignore them as they went back to their conversation. Just talking about the vamp nest they took out in Iowa. Not a big deal.

But the beat-up, mod-podged shoebox on the table full of old Polaroids? That was a big deal.

It was crumpled in the corners and smelled like dust and old paper, and the paper glued on the sides was a but-ugly, neon pink mess. And Dean wanted to snoop more than anything else in the world. So he did.

He pulled the box closer to rifle through the loose photos near the top. Random shots of diners and a few mountains, a few people he didn’t know - and there was the one you took of him and Sam before they left. He curled his lip a little at that, cheeks going slightly pink. It was the least flattering photo of himself he'd ever seen - he had Sam trapped in a headlock and both of them had stupid, panicked expressions in their face. Why the hell you wanted a picture like that was way beyond him. He was half tempted to burn it.

He dug a bit deeper and found even more photos of strangers. And there were names and descriptions on the back of each one.

Annalise Nocte. Incel Werewolf, 6/7/06. A cute, smiling redhead with freckles covering her cheeks. Younger than any of you by at least five years, probably in college. Wearing a denim jacket and white sundress in front of the bookstore from Ridgeview. That was just a day before your attack. He didn’t remember talking to her during your case.

Joseph and Sarah Hoffman. Rave ghost. 10/23/05. Siblings, obviously, they could half-pass as twins. Mid-twenties, pale as hell, both had blue-grey eyes and hair dyed wacky colors. The girl had deep purple hair, multiple piercings, and a tattoo on her collarbone. The guy's hair was a midnight blue-black, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He wore a nerdy t-shirt referencing some show Dean didn’t watch. Both of them wore hiking backpacks, and the photo’d been taken in the woods.

Fareeha Suri. Jealous Witch. 2/19/06. The woman in this photo was in her mid-forties and cooking something bright yellow with lots of vegetables in a stew pot, inside a kitchen that looked like it hadn’t been renovated since the seventies. She had rich brown skin and deep black hair, and tired but kind eyes. The photo'd just barely caught kids running around in the background.

Were these all people you’d saved?

Under the loose polaroids was a thick, leather-bound book, an earthy blue color. An etched silver plate hammered into the front was the only decoration.

‘Memories'

Dean opened it and had to fight back an amused snort. It was all pictures of you! Some were selfies, of course, but some of them had been taken by someone else. There were even a few of a grumpy-looking, fourteen year old version of you that wore all black and a ton of eyeliner.

He skimmed through it, idly smiling, wanting to get to the more recent stuff - there were a few of a younger Jo and Ellen, and one or two of his dad, even - and lots of Bobby, yourself, and a too many other hunters he didn’t recognize.

His heart just about shriveled up and died when he stopped on one page though.

‘The Prom Crashing of Hillcrest High, 1995’

And there you were, wearing a deep blue prom dress, an official photo and everything. Your hair was done, you were actually wearing makeup.

And you were on a date with a girl.

A girl that was very visibly kissing your neck in the bottom right selfie in the spread. And that you were kissing on the lips in the left photo.

You looked happy.

And Dean felt childish jealousy burning in his chest.

So he shut the book harder than he needed to, and put it back where it belonged, and downed the rest of his beer in one go. He only barely choked on it, too. And then he went to the living room, ignoring the fact that his face was bright red and his heart was in actual pain and he was so, so, totally, screwed, and that he was just looking for distractions at this point.

It hurt. He hated to admit it, even to just himself, but it did. He’d never exactly thought that his major little crush on you would have ever led to anything, anyway. Hunters didn’t do relationships. Dean knew that. He agreed with that. There were good reasons for it.

But you were Awesome with a capital A. A badass, capable woman that gave as good as you got, and looked great in a leather jacket. Who kept up with his banter, and got him on a level he hadn’t felt understood on since… forever. And that wasn’t even mentioning the almost magnetic pull he felt from his soulmark whenever he was around you. He’d never stocked that much faith in romance or fate, but if it wasn’t for the fact his only mark was a familial blue writing out Sam’s name, he wouldn’t have doubted for a second you were the one. You made him feel like he was going to explode. But like, in a good way. Like his chest was too full of stuff.

And it killed him. You killed him. Your phone calls had been something to look forward to for the past month and a half. He’d gotten to show off and snark and laugh and relax with someone that wasn’t his goddamn brother for once in his life and it had been amazing and Dean hated to admit it but he’d wanted to jump you the moment you challenged him to a drag race. But he’d stopped himself, acting like a responsible human being for once - you’d still been hurt. You could barely walk around the house. It would’ve been a horrible idea.

And Dean could be patient when he wanted to be. But there was no amount of patience in the world that would fix this. No amount of waiting would make you stop being gay.

He wanted to crawl into the forest, lie down, and become one with the moss. Maybe with some intermittent screaming if he felt up to it.

Instead he just rubbed at the bridge of his nose and took some deep breaths.

He was so fucking screwed.

---

"This pie is delicious." Dean mumbled through mouthfuls, still not looking at you for longer than a few seconds at a time.

You were starting to get ticked off.

You rolled your eyes at the same time as Sam did, laying back against the couch and crossing your arms. Fine, you wouldn’t look at him either. It’s not like you wanted to, anyway. His face was stupid. And absolutely gorgeous. But you were trying not to focus on that bit when he could barely stand to look at you.

See, this is what happened when you were seen being domestic. You’d completely ruined your reputation.

"Dude, seriously?" Sam’s nose crinkled up and he furrowed his brow.

"But it's good!"

Sam looked grossed out.

"Thanks," You smiled tightly, only glancing at Dean for a second before looking back at the baseball game none of you actually cared about. "I would tell you we have more but I only made the one."

Dean shrugged and kept eating, seeming to enjoy himself well enough without you.

No, you weren’t going to be jealous of a pie. No way in hell would that ever happen. Especially not a pie you’d made yourself. Great. Definitely not.

There was a long silence.

And then Bobby’s phone went off and you winced. That goddamn piece of shit ringing sounded like nails on a chalkboard, after so many days in this place. If you heard it one more time you were gonna leave this damn place early, you swore.

Bobby didn't look very happy when he came back in. "Well, boys, it’s your lucky day. I’ve got a case."

You turned your entire body to face him so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, all preoccupations on why Dean was being weird leaving your mind all at once. "What kind of case?"

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at you. He rolled his fucking eyes at you."The kind of case you're not taking."

That just about set you off all on it’s own, your face blooming hot and tension shooting through you to coil around your chest. "Seriously?” You gave him the same look you gave the people you used to interrogate. Hard, and cold, and reasonably terrifying. “I can handle myself."

He didn’t even seem to notice. The ringing started in your ears.

"You just had your cast taken off, there's no way you're going hunting alone, not like this." He turned to the boys, ignoring your point altogether and acting like you didn’t exist. "Suspicious death in Colorado. Witness says he saw a disappearing, ghostly woman."

Mother. Fucker.

The ringing became screaming sharpness in your head and the inside of your head was suddenly bursting with bright, blinding light that pushed out all other thoughts.

“I can take a salt and burn," You hissed, closing your eyes tight against the brightness that only existed inside you, fists clenching into the couch pillow next to you, nails almost ripping through the fabric.

When you opened your eyes the noise had started coating the world in shaky, blurry colors and if you didn’t calm down soon things would get ugly.

"No, you can't." He pointed his finger at you like you were fourteen and he could tell you what to do.

He couldn’t tell you what to do even when you were fourteen!

You stood up, mouth curling to form charged words, everything around you too slow and too fast all at once. There was nothing in your head but the ringing now. "That's not for you to decide!"

"It doesn't matter, you're not ready."

"The hell I'm not." You said low and hard and pointed, like the edge of a dagger.

Then you shut your eyes hard, and bolted to your room, breathing coming in sharp and you could feel the whole room around you shaking and you weren’t sure if it was just you or if it was being caused by you but everything was just so loud and you crumpled up in the corner of your room and you could feel everything for miles and it hurt and it hurt and it hurt and you wanted to claw out your eyes your head was going to explode everything was so loud -

A hand on your shoulder made everything suddenly go quiet.

Dean.

You just about cried in relief, opening your eyes to beautiful green eyes. "You good, princess?"

It was half facetious and somehow still exactly what you needed. And the world around was blessedly calm, the ringing, somehow, chased away by his touch.

You wiped at your eyes and gave him a weak thumbs up. "Never better."

He smiled and helped you up, before he went to lean on the wall. You started to throw your clothes into a duffel bag, turning away from him. He probably had no idea what had really just happened, how close you’d been to causing real problems for everyone. To him it probably just seemed like you were upset.

"You don't have to pack up and leave, okay?” His casual tone confirmed your suspicions. It was probably for the best he didn’t know, anyway. “You said it yourself, Bobby still handles you with kid gloves. He’s just worried."

"You don't get it." You sighed and flopped onto the bed. You met his gaze just the once before you rubbed at your eyes, fighting a massive incoming migraine. You haven't had an episode like that in about a year, and you’d almost forgotten how peircing the pain in your temples could be. "I've already been here too long.” Which was true, you had been. “I need to leave anyway." Also true.

Like you said earlier, you didn’t know if there were people after you. Or demons. Either one was a real possibility.

"Okay, how about, instead of diving right back into the game after almost two months off,” He looked at you like he’d just had the smartest idea in the world. “We ease you back into it? That way everybody's happy."

You gave a sarcastic bark of a laugh. "Can't exactly ease back into hunting, genius."

"Uh, yeah, you can,” He said plainly and raised his eyebrows. “You work as a team and have someone to watch your back while you get your sea legs back."

"Dean,” You covered your face with your hands and let yourself fall back onto the bed, dejected. “I don't have any friends."

"What the hell am I, then, chopped liver?"

Oh my god, you’d really just said that. And he actually looked hurt.

Shit.

You rolled over and wiggled your way to the other side of the bed, burying your face in your pillow to hide your blushing face. You probably looked ridiculous and childish, but you didn’t care. You were so fucking stupid. "I dunno, I figured I was just some random hunter. Not worth bothering with." You mumbled into the fabric.

If only you could dig yourself into a large hole and never be seen again.

He only laughed at you, though, which was something. "Why the hell else would I call so often?"

You shrugged, still wanting very much to disappear. Then pain burst through your ear, and you turned over with a girly shriek. “What the hell was that for?!” He’d flicked you in the ear! “That fucking hurt, jackass!”

You kicked him in the shin as best you could from your position on the bed.

Oh my god, he was still laughing at you. “Got you out of your head though.”

“Asshole.” You muttered and stood up again, grabbing more of your belongings.

“Anyway,” He started, acting like all this was completely normal behavior toward peers. Rude. “Bobby wants to know you’re safe, and you want to hunt.”

“Yes, I know about the argument I just had.”

“Hey, I’m trying to help here.”

“Okay, fine.” You glanced back at him for only a moment before you relented, forcing yourself to relax your frame. You didn’t need to be on edge here. You were safe.

"I think that you should come on this ghost hunt with Sammy and I. That way Bobby's not worrying and you get to stay Miss Independent.” He quirked his eyebrows and you were gone. You could not stay mad at this man. “Promise we won't cramp your style."

Oh my god, like you would ever say no to that.

"Okay," A smile worked its way across your face despite yourself. "But just one hunt."

"One hunt." He smiled again then, and holy shit it took all your willpower not to push him against the wall and kiss him hard. That voice was going to haunt you in your dreams. “And then we go to the drag strip, where I’m gonna kick your ass.”

And he was back to smack talk.

“Oh, I am going to leave the Impala in the dust, what are you talking about!”

If you didn’t have a heart attack before you got the chance. At this rate it was becoming a real possibility Dean Winchester would actually kill you one of these days.

But for now you would pack your things and climb into the back seat of the Impala for your first salt and burn in months, giddy excitement running around your veins like sparklers.

An hour later the three of you were gone, reading what little information Bobby had written down. "Are we sure this isn't the Joker?" You tilted your head to the side at the paper in front of you.

"Well, considering there were cold spots and flickering lights, I'd say it's definitely not." Sam turned around with a skeptical look from the front seat. You were in the back, legs laid out across the entire bench. You wiggled your toes intermittently, stupidly happy to be able to move everything again. “Besides, I don't think that's the Joker's M.O.”

You pursed your lips at that. “Are you sure? I could’ve sworn he did the whole Glasgow Smile thing.”

“No, he used poison. I think you’re thinking of a different serial killer.”

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Dean piped in.

"The case," You started. "Frat boy killed in his own bedroom. Found with a smile cut into his face. Roommate says there was a woman standing over the body that disappeared into thin air."

"That smile's gotta mean something about her death, you think?”

You just shrugged. “Probably.”

The drive felt like it took forever, even though you'd driven longer by yourself before. But you can only play the Alphabet Game so many times before it gets old (and before you got tired of Sam beating you at it). By the time you got there you'd even considered breaking out Never Have I Ever, which would have been a disaster, probably.

Pikes College was a small community school a few hours outside of Fort Collins, Colorado. It was just about the only reason the small town of Pemberton was on the map at all. About ten-thousand students attended, and it had only a handful of Greek Life chapters. Kappa Delta Alpha was the only fraternity chapter to have an actual house.

And Corey Matheson, a third year pledge, had been stabbed to death and mutilated in his bed a week before the fall semester started. He was a business major, well liked, and, according to his fraternity brothers, had big plans for his life.

But before the three of you went to the crime scene, you had to check out a motel room and get some sleep. It was pushing eight thirty at night, no way were you getting into the scene this late. And the ME’s office was closed already, which was a bummer. You would have to start fresh in the morning.

The motel was dingy and smelled like dust, but that was par for the course. Water stains trailed down the wall behind the desk, too, leaving gross brown residue on the drywall. You just hoped that didn't reflect the quality of this place's plumbing. You didn’t plan on taking a cold shower.

The man behind the counter, Lewis, slumped in his chair and looked half-asleep, staring blankly at the computer monitor. He barely looked at you when you walked up to the counter.

“Two rooms, please.” You chirpped genially, face going a tad Stepford Wives, and started pulling out one of your fake IDs and some cash.

He nodded slowly and started typing - at about three words a minute. Drawn out silence interrupted by lonely keystrokes. After about ten-thousand years he stopped and glanced at you, shrugging. “Only got the one. Buncha families in town for move-in week, I’m all booked.”

You sighed and looked back at the boys. The resigned look on Sam’s face gave you the permission you needed, so you turned around with slumped shoulders. “One room, then. Thanks.”

“Enjoy your stay.” He yawned out, slapping a pair of keycards down on the counter.

“I’ll try.” You laid down enough cash for three days and picked up the cards, plodding back over to the boys before all of you walked to your room. “Rock Paper Scissors for who sleeps on the floor?”

“(Y/n), no.” Sam looked at you like you’re nuts. “You obviously get one of the beds, you’re still recovering. Dean and I can take turns on the other one.” He elbowed Dean in the side. “Right, Dean?”

“Uh, right.” He seemed caught off guard, like he wasn’t paying attention at all. Had he just been zoned out the whole time? Really? “Sure.”

The wallpaper of your room was peeling off the walls, and the neon blue polka dot pattern was an affront to god and nature, but there were beds, and a shower, and that's all that really mattered. You plopped your duffel down on the bed on the far side of the room. When you looked back at the boys they were in a heated game of rock paper scissors.

Dean lost.

Sam laughed, “Again with the scissors?”

Dean just grumbled about his loss underneath his breath as he pulled out some sweatpants. You chuckled at them under your breath as you crossed the room, calling dibs on the first shower, sleep clothes in hand. There was no way you were wearing your normal pajamas with the boys sharing your room. You settled for soft knit joggers and a t-shirt.

You were pleasantly surprised to find that the hot water actually worked, thank god. Fifteen minutes later you were sitting on your bed in the main room - Sam took second shower. You were absent-mindedly patting your hair with a towel with one hand and digging through your bag for your rosary with the other. You could’ve sworn you put it in the side pocket with your med pack. There was no way you’d left it behind at Bobby’s.

A sigh of relief left you when you felt the familiar plastic against your fingertips, pulling out the fraying string of neon-pink plastic beads from your bag. You quickly glanced at Dean. He was busy disassembling his FBI gun, cleaning it on the tiny motel table by the door.

Good. You didn’t need to be made fun of.

You weren’t Catholic, not since you left the Nuns at the group home. But there was one particular prayer you never stopped. It was childish, maybe, and you felt like you were talking into an empty room and waiting endlessly for a response, but you still hoped that they heard you, wherever they were off to.

You clutched the plastic cross tight in both hands, closed your eyes, and started whispering in Latin. “Angele dei, Qui custos es mei, Castiel, Me tibi commi-”

“Are you praying?”

Of course he interrupted you.

The look you gave him could melt ice. He just looked a bit incredulous.

“Yes.” You forced out through clenched teeth, you could hear your heartbeat from your ears, face going red. You really didn’t want to explain the deeper reasons behind this besides just habit. He would think you were crazy-bonkers. “The group home I was raised in was run by a Convent.” You stared at the sheets instead of Dean. “You know what they say about old habits.” You murmured, just waiting for him to ask more questions that would expose just how nuts you probably were.

Those questions never came, though. Dean seemed to accept your answer for the half-truth it was, and went back to cleaning his gun.

So you gripped the first thing you’d ever owned after the fire, running your fingers over the worn beads, and finished your nightly prayer to your soulmate.

Wherever they were.

My guardian dear, Castiel,

To whom their love commits me here;

Ever this night be at my side,

To light and guard, to rule and guide.

Amen.

...I wish you could be here.

A/N:  So Dean makes an assumption in this chapter that isn't entirely correct but isn't entirely incorrect. Poor guy thinks you don't like men, and he's very confused about you because of it. Based on their upbringing, I doubt Dean really thinks of Bi people much, unless he's directly told to his face that someone swings both ways. So he assumes you Only Like Women, because that's what makes the most sense to him at the moment. And so he's trying to be a good friend. This misunderstanding will be rectified in a few chapters, but for now, there'll be a lot of pining and moon-eyes, and Sam will be annoyed at how obvious the both of you are. The prayer the reader is reciting at the end is a slightly altered Angele Dei prayer, also known as the Prayer to One's Guardian Angel. All in it's original Latin, of course, cause Reader is just Like That. It resonated with her for obvious reasons. She's done this every night for literally years, and the rosary (neon pink and glow in the dark - and yes, you can buy rosaries like that IRL) was the first thing ever given to her at the group home. It's literally the first thing she ever owned herself - the rest of it burned down in the fire. Also if anyone has guesses as to what reader was up to in New York I would be down, although there isn't all that much to go on right now lol. But trust me the wait for answers is going to be worth it. As always, I hope you enjoyed! Have a great week, wash your hands, and stay safe! :)