#even in heaven where dean could see whatever dead friend he wanted whenever he wanted

[chiisana-sukima]

Between Dean and Sam: who prefers to be liked, and who prefers to be right?

Hi Nonny, thank you so much for the ask!

I think the easy answer is that Dean prefers to be liked and Sam prefers to be right. Dean has more friends, is more malleable, and has a huge, life-destroying fear of aloneness at his core, while Sam is Mr According to the Lore Research Boy who is often distant and intellecualizing, so this is a natural conclusion.

But actually I think that, like many people in high stress occupations, they both vastly prefer to be right and don't actually care that much about whether people like them or not.

In nursing, it's a truism that certain sub-disciplines--ICU, PCU, NICU, OR, ER--are full of "strong personalities"; which is what we call people who are excessively competent, just want to get the job done and get it done right, and don't really give a fuck about much else. Partly this is because people who are at baseline inclined towards a combination of technical competence and adventure tend to go into those difficult and high stress disciplines and partly it's because once you're there the job winnows everything else out of you.

That, to me, is Sam and Dean. They are "strong personalities". It's not that they don't have friends (although it's canon that in the early years part of the job is explicitly stated to be leaving your friends behind and not getting too close); it's that their friends are expendable, they themselves are expendable, everything is expendable except family and the job--and the job involves getting things right or dying.

Look at how they treat their friends. Look at Kevin, Garth, Rowena, Crowley, often Cas, even each other. They are frequently mean, insulting, belittling of others' value, and interacting with their friends like autistic children who bond through parallel play; except the play is "bleed for the Winchesters".

They both of course do have the basic human need to be seen and loved--which each expresses in their own natural way-- but that isn't at all the same as wanting to be "liked", and they both largely confine their need to be loved to a few select people. Everyone else goes in the "to sell for a corn chip if my brother is hungry" resource pile.

This is very much not me insulting them or saying that they're deranged or actually the bad guys or whatever. The way the universe of the show is set up, they are right. Their world is a huge ICU full of dying patients that's also on fire. In some ways the whole show is just a 15 year argument about how to be right when everyone is dying around you. Give up? Throw out your phone? Push it all down until it comes out in violence and alcoholism? "Like" is small and easily sacrificed compared to wading through the big stuff and doing your best.

[lighteyed]

this is a place where i don’t feel alone / jack kline

summary: jack and reader bonding after a hunt <3

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: i found this in my google docs and like... it was PRETTY cute and i didn’t want to let it waste away in my docs so here she is :) i want to post more and just write whatever i want for whoever i want and be happy on here. and i do love jack

Freshly showered after his first hunt, Jack wanders through your open bedroom door. His golden hair is messy like he’s never seen a brush before (which, to be fair, he most likely hasn’t) and his brown eyes are large in their curiosity. He hadn’t been in your room yet, despite living at the bunker for a couple weeks now. For the most part, he had no reason to go in there. And regardless, he was too nervous to even ask. You, however, were the only person in the entire building he felt completely at ease around, even more so than Castiel. The way you looked at him was reassuring. He never saw fear or apprehension when he met your gaze, just a desire to understand. A yearning for a friend. He’d heard your shower squeak to a stop, had waited a couple moments before trying to enter the room (learned that the hard way), and now here he was. Shy, awkward, but there.

 You placed the novel you were reading down on your bed when you noticed him, motioning for him to come further inside. “How you feeling after your first hunt, Jack? You okay?”

 He nodded, picking up all the little items scattered across your dresser. So new to everything, it was all unfamiliar. He touched a necklace lightly. “Yes, I think so. I didn’t realize there would be so much blood.”

 “Comes with the gig. You’ll get used to it.” If he sticks around that long. “Are you okay with using the shower now? Like the shampoo, the conditioner, body wash, the whole shebang?”

 “Yes! Thank you for making Dean show me how to do it, but I still don’t understand why you couldn’t, and Dean did not want to talk to me much during the process of showing me how to use the shampoo-”

�� The cute furrowing of his brow as he fumbles around for an answer to his question makes you giggle. His inability to pick up on social cues was beginning to become incredibly endearing. “Yeah, well, it’s just different, and Dean probably just felt awkward ‘cause you know, you weren’t clothed.”

 “Oh, is that not okay?” Jack’s face scrunched up again.

 “Depends who you ask and what the situation is.” You patted the edge of your bed, gesturing for him to sit down with you. When he sat, it was stiff, hands folded neatly in his lap as he continued to gaze around your room. “But you got all the blood off okay? I know you heal quick and stuff but it was all in your hair and I don’t think Dean really drilled in the concept of a deep conditioning treatment.”

 “I think so,” he repeated, patting the top of his head. His hair was still damp and felt clean enough. You leaned forward to examine him, though, breathing in the scent of shampoo. It was kind of funny, the way he had a newborn baby look and feel to him. Even his scent was like a baby’s. It’s sweet, really. “I used the one in the pink bottle.”

 “My shampoo? I figured, you smell like flowers,” you grinned, leaning back against the headboards.

 He tilted his head, “Is that a good thing?”

 “Definitely,” you reassured. “Most boys don’t smell nearly half as good as you do right now. Your hair’s all messy, though. Do you know how to use a hairbrush?” You already knew the answer, standing up and grabbing yours from the dresser before making your back to the bed. “Sit here,” you motioned for him to move up closer to you, his back to your chest. Jack did so hesitantly, as he did most things involving you.

 “Dean didn’t teach me about a… hairbrush?” He relaxed a little at the gentleness of your hand smoothing out his hair, letting his shoulders slack.

 “Dean can barely remember a toothbrush, so much on his mind,” you say, lifting the brush and running it through Jack’s hair. There weren’t many tangles to sort through; his hair was cropped short, but it was thick enough where it needed a brushing here and there. It was nice hair. Everything about Jack was nice. He had nice hair, nice eyes, a nice smile whenever he was around you, and in general Jack was a sweetheart. You could never fathom Dean’s inability to give the kid a chance. He was never anything but kind. He didn’t even recognize Lucifer as his father. He viewed Castiel as his dad, and Castiel was the opposite of evil. He was practically harmless. And when Jack was here, half in your arms with his eyes drooping shut from the pleasantness of your soft caress, he was harmless, too.

 “This is very relaxing,” Jack tells you, breathing deeply as you continued. “Do you brush your hair out, too?”

 “Of course, but it’s not as relaxing to do it myself. Someone else brushing my hair is probably… I don’t know, calming. It’s the best.” One of the best feelings in the world really. Better than almost anything else, and something you missed dearly. A sigh fell from your lips, but you smoothed back his hair again anyway. “I think you’re all good now.” You expected for him to say his goodnights and leave the room, but he lingered. He had more questions. Mouthfuls of them.

 “Does anyone else brush your hair for you? Like you do for me?” He scoots up toward where you sat, shoulder to shoulder with you now.

 “Not for a long time. My mom used to, before I would go to school. Even when I got older, she’d wanna brush my hair for me. Said it calmed her down, helped her to stop thinking about how fast I was growing up.” You could almost see the gears whirring about in Jack’s mind, trying to figure out the story. Sam and Dean were your brothers, but you talked about your mother in a different way than they would talk about Mary.

 “But, Mary is alive, isn’t she-”

“Mary is great, but she isn’t my mom.” Jack waited patiently for you to continue, staring intently. “See, you’re half angel and you’re half regular human. Sam and Dean are just half my brothers. So, it’s kind of similar, except not really, but sort of… you get me?” Jack blinked twice, and you took that as a no. “Their mom is alive now, in 2018, but she died when Sammy was a baby and Dean was a little kid. Dean is twenty years older than me, and Sammy is sixteen years older than me, so their mom and dad had, like, no time to actually make me… uh together. Baby making is a different story, Jack, so don’t ask. Anyway, our dad, John, had me with a different woman a long time after Mary had passed away. We also have another brothers, and Dean says it’s because our dad can’t keep it in his pants, but I’ve never met him. Something about a cage. But yeah. We have the same dad, just different moms. And I don’t have my mom. So I’m totally out of luck with the whole parent thing.”

  You were sure Mary didn’t loathe you or anything, but you could tell it made her sad that she hadn’t been able to ever have her own real daughter, and that even though she’d been gone a long time when you had been conceived, you were still the result of John and someone else. It was understandable. You felt a bit nervous around her, too. Like you’d never be able to say the right thing or be the right kind of pseudo-daughter.

 “Where’s your mom? Why don’t you have her?”

 “She died, five years ago. Some demon’s sick way of getting all the Winchester siblings together again. I came back from school and she was just… dead. Sam and Dean were called in for the case and Cas told them who I was ‘cause I guess he could recognize it or something and now here I am.”

 “Do you miss her? I miss my mom all the time, and I never got to meet her.”

  “All the time, Jack. All the time.” He hadn’t meant to make you sad, but he felt it lingering in the air now. Your nose was scrunched slightly, your fists clenched and your eyes staring down at hands. “The day she died, that morning before I left for school, I wouldn’t let her brush my hair or even hug me goodbye. It was my first day of high school. I was fourteen.”

 Jack doesn’t know what’s come over him when he swipes his hand softly across your cheek, the tear smearing across your face. It’s so sweet and charming you almost wonder if maybe Dean had been teaching him how to flirt. “Thanks, Jack.”

 “I can- I can brush your hair, if you want.” He takes the brush, and you slide up between his legs and lean back against him. He runs it through your hair so very delicate in each of his movements you feel yourself flashing back to when it was you and your mother in your living room, always just the two of you no matter what, and you feel that same sense of peace wash over you as it had when you were a child. How could this boy, who provided serenity so quickly and completely, ever be anything but inherently good? It was impossible.

Jack was so content in his own actions, he didn’t realize you were already half asleep. Even breaths, relaxing into him, eyes fluttering closed. Before you can drift off, he says one final thing, “Our moms are probably in Heaven together. I think they would be friends. Best friends.”

 “Yeah? You think so? Even though God’s gone for good and it’s all kinda shitty up there?”

 “The best people go there. And our moms were the best.”

 He says it so confidently that you knock the brush from his hands as you turn around so suddenly to hug him, burying your face in his neck. “You’re so sweet, Jack. Thanks for everything,” you mumble against him. He hesitantly wraps his arms around you, and you smile so broadly you think it’s going to slip your face and your heart wide open.

 You are such a goner.

 And when you kiss him on the cheek before he leaves your room for his own, he blushes like a rose in the sunlight; he knows he’s kind of a goner, too.

[airenyah]

what are the gayest destiel episodes you can think of?

ohhhhh i gotchu hold on (this is basically gonna end up being a list of my fave destiel episodes lmaooo)

ok so just a heads-up, i don’t really remember much from s10 onwards (a lot of those episodes i haven’t actually watched since they aired whoops) and i’m currently stuck at the beginning of s9 on my complete rewatch soooo this list focuses only on the first half of the show. i might do an update if i ever manage to finish my rewatch (and remember to post an update at all when the time comes)

ok here we go:

4x16 - On the Head of a Pin

dean calls cas “cas” to his face for the very first time

dean is all “you can't ask me to do this, cas. not this.” (about torturing alastair) and uriel is all “who said anything about asking”, but cas is all: “this is too much to ask, i know. but we have to ask it” and that is the moment that dean realizes that cas cares about him and his feelings/well-being and that’s when he demands to speak to cas alone 

and it’s only after cas tells dean he really doesn’t want dean being forced to do the torturing that Dean gives in (”i would give anything not to have you do this”)

like, it’s so obvious already how much cas cares about dean already and we’re only in s4

 cas is even starting to go down the path of disobedience (with a little help from anna admittedly, but still. he’s starting to consider it)

they’re so?? comfortable?? with each other. when cas visits dean at the hospital in the end

4x22 - Lucifer Rising

dean literally makes an angel fall in this ep, i mean come on... (the way cas shows up behind him all “you asked to see me” after dean smashes the angel statue cracks me up every single time gsdlka)

dean desperately trying to get cas to help him (bc he knows that IF there’s an angel that would help him it’s cas)

cas is too afraid though and dean gets pissed and literally breaks up with him (D: "you spineless, soulless son of a bitch. what do you care about dying? you're already dead. we're done." C: "dean-" D: "we're done!")

this is the episode in which cas makes his decision and chooses dean over heaven

5x03 - Free to Be You and Me

in the previous episode sam and dean had a fight and split up. this episode starts out with dean being pissed and annoyed and just in a bad mood in general

when cas shows up and asks for help dean is very grumpy and doesn’t want to help at first but then reluctantly agrees

throughout the episode, the more time dean spends with cas the better his mood gets (honestly this point is worthy of its own separate post, i have enough screenshots lmao)

like he’s even smiling at the end of the ep when he’s talking to cas in the car!! (except then he looks over and realizes cas has left mid-conversation again and that smile is wiped right off his face and i’m sad :( )

when they’re in that brothel dean mostly has eyes for cas, even when chastity the hooker is standing right next to him

after the brothel incident when dean is cracking up and goes “it's been a long time since I've laughed that hard. it's been more than a long time. years.” like... buddy. your crush is showing.

and the way cas smiles lovingly at dean laughing next to him

dean be like: “personal space”     also dean: *reaches into cas’s coat without hesitation* *fixes cas’s shirt and tie without hesitation*

also the funniest thing about the whole “personal space” moment in the motel is that there was more than enough space for dean to step aside and increase the distance between him and cas if he had really been all that uncomfortable but he just. doesn’t. no he just stays right where he is 

when raphael is trapped in the holy oil and threatens cas all “castiel, I'm warning you. do not leave me here. i will find you.” and cas goes “maybe one day. but today, you're my little bitch.” and walks away and dean tells raphael “what he said” like the impressed and proud boyfriend that he is

inside jokes (see here)

some more iconic quotes/moments from this episode:

“cas, we’ve talked about this. personal space”

“so, what, i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just going to hold hands and sail off this cliff together?”

“well. last night on earth. what are your plans?” “i just thought i'd sit here quietly.”

“let me tell you something. there are two things i know for certain. one, bert and ernie are gay. two, you are not gonna die a virgin. not on my watch.”

5x14 - My Bloody Valentine

hunter husbands!!

the way that dean is not in the mood for hook-ups on valentine’s day and then goes to stare at cas like That

that iconic phone call at the hospital where cas just appears in front of dean who nearly runs into him

cas be looking at sam while listing all the things people can be starving for, and then looks at dean before saying “love” 

ok i know this doesn’t have that many points but really this entire ep is great, i very much enjoy all the interactions between cas and dean in this ep

like when dean is not hungry and cas is all “you're not gonna finish that?” and grabs the plate without waiting for an answer bc they’re this married in s5 already

6x20 - The Man Who Would Be King

i mean... this one is obvious isn’t it

this ep is literally all about how cas is doing everything for the winchesters aka dean

the way sam and bobby cautiously voice their suspicions of cas to dean has the same energy as carefully breaking it to a family member that you think their partner is cheating on them 

and when they trap cas in the holy oil and confront him dean also acts like a betrayed wife(gn)

which is such a stark contrast to how sam and bobby react to the betrayal (they’re mostly just like “eh this sucks” while dean is emotionally affected)

and even in the following episodes dean is way more affected by cas’s betrayal than sam and bobby are and dean is the one who argues the most with cas (honestly, this entire arc is literally that post that’s all “how do i know dean is in love with cas? bc sam isn’t”)

ok but the holy oil scene is truly like a soap opera (i mean... “where were you when i needed to hear it?” “i was there. where were you?” and dean looking back at cas one last time before running away)

this is their first big break-up and it takes them until the s7 finale to make up

special shoutout to cas watching dean rake leaves

this ep is a LOT

7x17 - The Born-Again Identity

dean’s FACE when he sEES CAS. and then DEAN’S FACE AGAIN when “emmanuel” is all “what’s your issue?”

dean’s face all throughout that first scene with “emmanuel” and daphne, I’M

“you know, I used to be able to just shake this stuff off. you know, whatever it was. It might take me some time, but... i always could. what cas did... i just can't – i don't know why” BECAUSE YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM, IDIOT

the way dean interrupts all irritated when meg goes “i think we're gonna be good friends too” at “emmanuel” (jealous bf much gsdlksafd)

the way dean kept the trenchcoat just in case so he can give it back to cas should he return (which ofc he did)!!!!

7x21 - Reading is Fundamental

yet another one of those “how do I know dean is in love with cas? bc sam isn’t”

at the beginning of the ep at some point sam’s phone rings and when he says that meg (who is watching over cas at the mental hospital) is calling, dean is quick to stand up and even tho meg called sam, dean is the one who ends up having the phone call with her lmao

also dean has no chill during that phone call lmao (he’s irritated when he finds out meg didn’t call them right then and there as soon as cas woke up and he’s immediately concerned when meg says cas is different, while sam’s just standing there holding his phone out to dean, being all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ lmao)

dean: *pissed af at cas*    also dean: *almost breaks his own neck at the speed with which he whips his head around at the mention of cas’s name and is desperate to know his location when cas calls meg after dean blasted him away with some other angels at the hospital*

ok no but then meg tells cas their location and cas zaps into the car and it’s hilarious how quick dean is to interrupt whenever cas turns his attention to meg in that scene

8x07 - A Little Slice of Kevin

dean seeing cas everywhere

when you see your best dudebro outside the window in the middle of a storm but when you get up he’s gone and you feel like crap because you could’ve made it out of the war zone together and you just cannot fathom why he didn’t try harder and you just don’t understand why you’re feeling what you’re feeling (and judging by dean’s reaction to sam’s suggestion, clearly it’s not survivor’s guilt)

dean’s FACE when cas suddenly appears behind him in the bathroom

jacting joices: the infamous boner scene (yet another example of “how do I know dean is in love with cas? bc sam isn’t”)

jacting joices pt 2: sam and dean are talking case and then cas walks over to join the conversation and there is literally no reason for dean to check cas out (see here)

during the rescue mission when cas zaps into the room and has a stand-off with crowley and then when dean finally manages to break into the room, can i just say... the way dean immediately rushes to cas (who’s ended up on the floor) and grabs him by the shoulder before he bothers to look around the room

D: “that was a bonehead move back there. you could have gotten yourself killed. why didn't you wait for me?” C: “well, i didn't get killed. and it worked” D: “and if it didn't?” C: “it would have been my problem.” D: “well, that's not the way i see it.”

the purgatory flashbacks when dean keeps insisting that cas is coming along with them back to earth and won’t hear otherwise

“i did everything I could to get you out – everything! i did not leave you.”  “so you think this was your fault?”

“look, I don't need to feel like hell for failing you, okay? for failing you like i've failed every other godforsaken thing that i care about! i don't need it!”

i know we hate buckleming but this episode, man. this episode

8x08 - Hunteri Heroici

i was gonna put this as a special shoutout but then it turned out that i had more to say about this ep than i initially thought

it’s the way dean and cas keep gravitating towards each other in the first half of the episode. no seriously, they somehow keep ending up beside each other and you start wondering “what’s personal space” (friendly reminder that this is the ep right after they’re finally back together again after purgatory)

the married energy and the bickering

the “talk to me” scene where cas finally opens up to dean (but then interrupting moose strikes)

at the retirement home dean to sam and cas: “no flirting you two” then CUT to: dean and cas sitting at a table with an elderly lady who is staring at cas with heart eyes and... lady: “you are so pretty, charles” dean: *must look at young nurse’s butt immediately to distract myself from gay thoughts*

i’m sorry but the way he smiles so widely at cas at one point when they’re talking to that lady, like, she’s just called cas a bounder and dean’s amused about that but his amusement is not in any way malicious and his face is just so full of love when he looks at Cas, it’s embarrassing really (see here)

9x06 - Heaven Can't Wait

ok so i haven’t watched this ep in like 5 years so my memories on this aren’t as fresh as with the previous eps but! it’s the way that cas and dean act exactly like exes (who are still in love with each other) in this ep

dean’s face as he’s staring at cas through the shop window

dean’s smile when he shows up inside the shop

the entire “i can’t let you do this cas” scene in the car

the infamous fanfiction gap

special shout out to:

5x18 - Point of No Return for all the bickering (“you know what? blow me, cas”) and especially  “well, cas, not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that… i got laid.”

6x10 - Caged Heat for the pizza man and dean’s reaction to all the megstiel (like jealous bf much?)

6x19 - Mommy Dearest for the strong married energy dean and cas give off in this ep (honestly, all their bickering, it’s glorious) (friendly reminder that this is right before tmwwbk) 

7x23 - Survival of the Fittest for the “i’d rather have you cursed or not” scene

8x02 - What's Up, Tiger Mommy? for the purgatory flashbaks with that one monster calling cas dean’s angel and the reunion scene by the river with highlights such as “nice peach fuzz” and “i prayed to you cas, every night” and “i have a price on my head, and i've been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to – to keep them away from you” and “cas, we're getting out of here. we're going home” and “cas, buddy, i need you” and “let me bottom-line it for you. i'm not leaving here without you. understand?”

8x17 - Goodybe Stranger for “i don't know, dean. if he's so sketchy, then why were you praying to him?” and the entire crypt scene (yes this is a big one and yes i’m still only putting it as a special shoutout and yes it’s bc of the megstiel content this ep ok bye <3)

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

hello hello hello!  and welcome to Season 12 of Supernatural. 

I admit that initially I STRUGGLED WITH SEASON 12.  I LOATHED the British Men of Letters (other than Lady Antonia Bevell; her hot working mom energy can get it); I have...mixed feelings about Mary; overall it was not a stellar season for me the first go-round.  HOWEVER I shall now give it a second chance,  and look for the subtext within the bad (and if my theory tracks, there will be much subtext as...there is much bad).  Maybe I’ll even develop Ketch appreciation.  **ONWARDS ONCE MORE INTO THE BREACH, MY FRIENDS:

When we last left Dean, I neglected to mention that Amara brought his mom back (this is how much I repressed Mary Winchester I guess?)  We cut to Mary, confused, in a nightgown (I get this is part of the character and that’s why she is wearing it sO wE kNOw iTS rEAlLy MaRY WinCHEstEr because of her nightgown and not Sam Smith’s exquisite face, but honestly WHY - LIKE DID SHE WEAR THE DAMN THING IN HEAVEN THE ENTIRE TIME TOO?).

DEAN [breathing heavily] 

Mom. Listen to me. Your name – your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.

MARY 

How do you know all that?

DEAN 

Dad told me. March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater – Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh, Mulroney's and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that – that you met –

MARY 

John Winchester.

DEAN 

August 19, 1975, you were married... in Reno. Your idea. A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.

***DEAN DESCRIBING EVERY DAMN DETAIL OF THIS HAS MURDERED ME.  Also, I know John Winchester “told him the story,” but something about this retelling - these are NOT John Winchester’s words (other than maybe “big Marine”).  The emotions, the feelings, the “you talked and he was cute” Dean is describing is Dean’s retelling, the version he created in his mind of this damn meet-cute, this little love story he played over and over in his head, and that makes me feel warm and tingly and also want to ingest sharp knives.  

***Everyone already knows about the damn Zeppelin reference but just in case you wanted to be tortured, please recall that later on we will get

THIS FUCKING SHIT

Nothing to see here other than Dean using a reference from this LOVE STORY on Cas.  I HATE it here in super hell.  Next rounds on you, Sam.

Anyway, Mary has caught on:

I paused here just now because I had a tHoUGHt.  This season is all about exploring Dean and Sam in their role as sons (this is discussed at the SDCC panel prior to the season; btw they are all free on Prime and I recommend watching before you start each new season for little “reveals” behind some of the plot lines).  We know Sam has no relationship to Mary really, he was a baby when she died, but Dean was a little boy - with a personality, character traits, identifying characteristics that his mother probably knew like the back of her hand.  That’s why my first run-in with Mary left a bad taste in mouth during this season - LIKE THIS IS YOUR KID, and there is NO inkling or recognition until THIS moment?  In a show that just spent an entire season exploring the “unexplained connection” between Dean and GODS SISTER, there no immediate “OH” from his own mother?!

But then I realized why she only connected at this very moment.  This particular moment - and not the moment where he lists the factual details about her before the story of the night she met John.  That little story with all those cute details - that’s the part of Dean that Mary knew before she died - when that part was ALL of Dean.  Before hunting, before John’s quest for revenge turned him into the person he is today, before he saw himself as a blunt little instrument.  That’s why initially Mary has no recognition that this is her son - because the Dean she knew was sensitive, and kind, and OPEN, and liked love stories, and laughing, and warm hugs and maybe flowers. Because if you think about it WE DONT KNOW THAT DEAN.  We only know Dean AMD. (After Mary’s Death).

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

So maybe Mary represents Dean Before Mary’s Death, and whatever part of that Dean remains, no matter how deep he has been buried.  The part that connects with people; the part that doesn’t want to be alone.  The part that helped Amara.  The part that loves Cas.  And that’s why Amara brought her back.  

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

Ok, if I think of it this way, I may like Mary a little better now.

BUT ALSO MY BABY:

Cut to Cas.

[THE MAN WALKS OVER TO THE EDGE OF THE CRATER MADE BY THE LANDING AND SEES CASTIEL PULLING HIMSELF OUT.]

MAN 

Holy mother.

[CASTIEL STANDS UP AND LOOKS AROUND]

CASTIEL 

Where am I?

MAN

Uh...Earth?

CASTIEL 

No. How far am I from Lebanon, Kansas?

MAN 

Uh... Th-three hours, maybe. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Who – What are you, man?

[CASTIEL WALKS TOWARDS THE MAN AND TOUCHES HIM ON THE FOREHEAD. THE MAN DROPS TO THE GROUND. CASTIEL LEAVES HIM THERE AS HE DRIVES OFF IN THE TRUCK]

***I spy a Season 11 random parallel

And Cas says, “Earth - 

***Also, I often wonder if in his mind’s inner GPS, Cas bases distances on how far he is from Dean. 

In the meantime, Bad Things Are Happening to Sam.

***Toni Bevell, don’t join the British Men of Letters you’re so sexy hahah

Other than noting that this is yet another too oft- repeated Sam, the Victim, Always Gets Tortured scenario, I see no point in recapping these parts.

I will just continue to post Toni Bevell hotness for these portions of the episode. Ok?  Ok.  You’re welcome.

BACK TO THE BUNKER:

I already posted this sweet baby reunion in my final Season 11 analysis/recap, but lets see it again at another angle and from Mary’s perspective CAUSE CLEARLY she has...*thoughts*

Poor Cas had no idea he was about to MEET THE PARENT 

It melts my little heart that Dean uses Cas’s full name to introduce him to people.  Especially members of his family who are trying to kill him.

Anyway, then we get a much longed for gem of typical Cas deadpan:

(*I still miss Casifer a little bit though*)

And then we have 

A MOMENT OF CONNECTION!  

At the SDCC panel, Misha specifically noted that both Mary and Cas are outsiders, so this tracks. 

They head to the garage:

[Exhaling sharply, Mary walks towards Baby. She runs her hand lightly over the car.]

MARY This was John's car. Oh, she's still beautiful.

DEAN Hell, yeah, she is.

MARY Hi, sweetheart. Remember me?

[MARY LEANS DOWN AND LOOKS INTO THE CAR SMILING. SHE STARTS LOOKING AT THE FRONT SEAT BUT HER EYES AND HER THOUGHTS LINGER ON THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LEANS DOWN LOOKING AT THE INTERIOR OF THE CAR WITH PRIDE. DEAN LOOKS AT HIS MOM AND REALIZES SHE’S HAVING VERY SPECIFIC MEMORIES OF TIME IN THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LOOKS AROUND THE CAR, AND LOOKS AT HIS MOM.]

***this is where you truly see that Sam Smith is a genius because she took those directions and put them all into THIS:

And then THIS:

DEAN 

Oh…

[MARY LOOKS UP AT DEAN. DEAN REALIZES HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN CONCEIVED IN THAT CAR, STANDS UP QUICKLY AND LOOKS OVER THE CAR. DEAN SWALLOWS HARD, AND GLANCES AT CASTIEL WHO GIVES HIM A QUIZZICAL LOOK.]

DEAN 

We should go.

***At this time I would like to remind everyone that Cas is also generally in the back seat of this car.  

MOVING ON

Meanwhile-

Back at the bunker, Cas is Continuing to Connect with his boyfriend’s mother:

[EXTERIOR DAY; INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS AND THE NOISE OF VIDEO GAMES ARE HEARD. THE CAMERA PANS TO MARY WHO’S WATCHING THE SCENE. CASTIEL IS PICKING UP COFFEE.]

CASTIEL 

Thank you.

[CASTIEL TAKES THE COFFEE TO MARY AND SITS DOWN.]

CASTIEL

This must be difficult for you. I remember my first moments on Earth. It was jarring.

MARY 

One word for it. I grew up with Hunters. I've heard of people coming back from the dead before. But to actually do it... after 30 years. A lot's changed.

[MARY LOOKS AROUND.]

MARY A lot.

Cas:

This is usually a look Reserved For Dean, so its interesting Cas is looking at Mary here [they also weirdly joked about Cas hitting on Mary at the SDCC panel and now I'm giggling because if Mary represents the soft part of Dean this all makes PERFECT SENSE).

BONUS

Actual footage of Sam in super hell

The Cas/Mary bonding worked BTW:

[INTERIOR: GREGORY IS SITTING IN FRONT OF HIS DESK WITH CASTIEL, DEAN, AND MARY STANDING BEFORE HIM.]

DEAN 

So, you dug the bullet out of his leg, no questions asked?

GREGORY 

She offered me 100 grand.

MARY 

And you took it?

GREGORY 

Student loans were a bitch, okay?

[ANGRILY CASTIEL STARTS TOWARDS GREGORY.]

DEAN 

Cas! Cas! Cas! Don't hurt him. Not yet.

**Disclosure: I do not accept the “Cass” spelling and take creative license to change it in the script whenever it appears**

GREGORY 

All right, look, she didn't give me her name. When we were done, the driver bailed, I got paid, and then some other chick shows up, and they all drive away.

MARY 

And that's everything you know?

GREGORY 

(insincerely) Yeah. Totally.

****Um, Mom that’s my boyfriend you don’t order him around like tha-

Oh, well, ok then.

***This is important, because Cas doesn’t obey anyone (other than Dean) blindly ever since he invented free will and all that.  Hence Dean’s surprised/impressed look to Mary above.  

Meanwhile:

I recall that I spent most of my first watch of Season 12 gushing over Toni Bevell, so I’m glad to know this won’t be changing.  You’ve been warned.

Next up, Sam is again sex tortured, Cas is a Helpful Boyfriend, and for some reason, Rick Springfield.  

[eatsleepandsupernatural]

Saved - Chapter Eight

Saved Masterlist

Pairings: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Character Death, Angst, Character Resurrection, excerpts from 14x08

Word Count: 2,243

A/N: Hey! The following chapter does contain some aspects of the Supernatural episode Byzantium. I would like to just state that I do not own those particular paragraphs of this chapter or of course the characters (but we already knew that). You probably didn’t expect the chapter to go this way, it was my plan from the beginning because of an idea I had, can’t tell you yet. Anyway, hope you don’t mind and I hope you enjoy! XX

Tags: @akshi8278​ @goddessofmischiefs​ @flutistbyday2020​ @samsgirl93​

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

   Tossing and turning, surrounding yourself with your Alphas scent, no matter how hard you tried, you can’t sleep. Your thoughts are on Jack, the image of him collapsing on the floor, coughing up blood, is replaying over and over in your mind. He had quickly become your closest friend, keeping you company while Sam and Dean went on hunts. You had made a habit of sneaking into the ‘Dean Cave’, cooking up some popcorn and watching movies for hours at a time. The way Jack’s eyes fixed on the T.V like an excited puppy always made you smile. You had barely known him, but the memory of him passing away, his hand grasped firmly in yours, was overwhelming. 

   You shove the covers off and leave your room in search of Dean and some comfort. You had gone to bed once he and Cas brought Sam back safely after he had left the bunker, feeling the need for some alone time. Hours have passed and your need for your Alpha grew stronger every second. 

   You find him passed out in the kitchen, surrounded by empty glasses and half drunk bottles of whiskey, snoring louder than you had ever heard. 

   ‘Dean...Dean, you shouldn’t sleep here.’ You speak softly into his ear and gently shake his shoulder in an effort to wake him up. ‘Dean.’ 

   ‘I don’t think he’s waking up anytime soon, Y/N.’ You turn around to face Cas, who is watching you from the doorway. ‘Why are you awake?’ 

   ‘I never went to sleep, couldn't.’ You admit quietly, knowing what was going to come next, silently wishing it was Sam who had found you. 

   Cas glances between you and Dean before sighing and holding out his hand, ‘It would be unfair to wake him now. Come on, I’ll get you settled.’ 

   You place your hand in his and let him lead you back to your room, but you don’t make it easy for him, dragging your feet along the way. There is no hiding the fact that you are frustrated with him, with everyone. Jack is dead and they are still hiding things. You want to know why Jack was sick in the first place, and for how long. You want to know why, whenever you ask about anything supernatural related you are ignored. 

   ‘Y/N, what are you doing? Aren’t you tired?’ Cas asks when you pull your hand from his and take a few steps back to put some space between you. 

   ‘I am tired. I am tired of being kept in the dark. Did you ever think that maybe I would have been able to help Jack if I had known what was going on? He was my friend, and I lost him, and I don’t even know why. All you guys do is keep me in the dark for ‘my protection’, but one day, that’s going to come back and bite you in the arse. I may have been afraid of the idea of monsters being real when I first moved in, but I’ve seen Sam and Dean come back from enough hunts to accept that truth now. I’m ready to fight, to help. Dean, he is never going to let me near a gun. I need you to let me help, teach me to fight Cas, please.’ 

   Cas stares at you, surprised by your outburst. He frowns for a moment, deep in thought, before approaching you slowly. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way. I will talk to Dean.’ 

   You roll your eyes at his response and slouch your shoulders. ‘Like that will do...Hey!’ 

   Cas cuts you off mid sentence, grabbing you around the waist and placing two fingers to your forehead. ‘Go to sleep Y/N’

   ‘Y/N, wake up,’

   ‘Omega.’ A firm hand on your shoulder and the smooth voice of your Alpha draws you from a peaceful, deep sleep. Your eyes meet Deans tired ones, the bags sitting below them prominent. 

   ‘Morning’. You sit up against the bed head, accepting the glass of water Dean offers you. 

   ‘Afternoon, actually.’ 

   ‘Stupid Angel.’ You grunt, making Dean chuckle softly. 

   ‘I had an interesting conversation with Cas this morning.’ He informs you, turning serious once again. ‘He told me you had trouble sleeping, went for a late night stroll.’ 

   ‘Didn’t realise that was something I wasn’t allowed to do.’ You shoot back. You aren’t sure where the attitude is coming from, but you are sick of Dean’s Alpha behaviour. 

   ‘I didn’t say that.’ He speaks quickly, eyes scanning your face in an attempt to read your thoughts. ‘But he told me what you spoke about, and I’m sorry. Truly. My intentions were always to keep you safe, and in doing so, I’ve pushed you away. And you’re right, chances of you holding a gun in this lifetime, or any other lifetime are pretty small. But you’re also right, that I have been letting the Alpha in me control my actions, and I have been unfair to you. If you believe that you are ready, you can be put on research duty. That means books only, no knives, no guns, no ghosts. We got a deal?’ 

   You stare at your Alpha with wide eyes, shocked and disbelieving. Dean stands up from the bed and smiles down at you, ‘You coming? You might want to get dressed. We have a guest.’ 

   You take a few minutes to compose yourself, washing your face and brushing your teeth in the basin, before getting dressed and leaving your room in search of the others. 

   The library is not how you left it last night, furniture has been moved to the side, and Sam and Dean stand next to a table in the middle of what looks to be a very intense discussion making you pause at the door and hide behind the wall, you decide waiting out the conversation is the best idea. 

   ‘Use the soul-sucking magic? Boy, that lady’s a peach.’ Dean’s tone of voice surprises you, and you realise this was one of the things he was trying to hide from you, his hunter side.

   ‘Listen, we talked about this.’ Sam interjects.

   ‘I know. Gotta happen. It’s the only way. Right. But I don’t like rolling the dice on some psycho ex-angel killer.’

   ‘I don’t love it, either, but taking risks, making crappy deals--that’s what we do.’

   ‘Yeah, and they usually bite us in the arse.’ You smile at Dean’s choice of words, remembering what you had said to Cas last night.

   ‘So, what do you want to do about it? Leave Jack in the morgue? Burn him?’ That’s the moment you realise that they were planning to do something about Jack, to try and bring him back. You had heard snippets of conversations before, you knew that both Sam and Dean had died at least once. 

   ‘I didn’t say that.’

   ‘Because, for me, not doing this--that-- that would be like letting him die all over again.’ At Sam’s words your heart almost breaks all over again and you struggle to hold back tears. 

   ‘I want Jack back, too okay? I do. I just don’t trust Lily. Especially with my little eavesdropper.’ 

   If you hadn’t had that conversation with Dean ten minutes ago, your heart would have dropped to your stomach. You straighten your back and peek around the doorway with a small smile on your face. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt.’ 

   Dean rolls his eyes but waves you over, and you reach him the same time Cas comes up the steps looking more than stressed. 

   ‘You got a twenty on Jack?’ Dean asks, eyes pleading for a yes.

   ‘Not exactly. Angel Radio is playing a distress signal.’ 

   ‘Awesome’, He replies, letting his arms fall, surely mirroring his disappointment. 

   ‘All of Heaven’s gates are open, even the ones that Metatron closed.’

   ‘What could that mean?’ Sam asks.

   ‘I don’t know but it’s not good.’

   ‘More awesome.’ Dean says, making you reach out and grab his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

   ‘All right, well you go. We got Lily. When we’re ready, we’ll pray.’ Sam says, hoping that the solution will be enough.

   Cas shares a look with Sam and Dean before walking away and to do whatever he had to do. 

   ‘What’s going on?’ You ask, turning back to face the two Alphas.

   ‘We may have a way to bring Jack back. It’s risky, but we figured it’s worth a shot. You can hang around for now, but if I need you to leave later, you have to trust me. We’ve never done this before Y/N.’ 

   You are tempted to argue but something in Sam’s eyes makes you change your mind. He is watching you carefully, eyes wide, pleading with you to reassure Dean that you’ll listen. 

   ‘Got it, just tell me to go make myself some lunch, and I’m gone.’ As soon as you see Dean’s entire body relax you know you have made the right decision and Sam shoots you the biggest smile, to which you respond with an eye roll. It’s as if they don’t believe you can behave. 

   ‘Alright, hand me that glass bottle would ya?’ Dean gestures behind you as he moves to fiddle with some paint and a bowl on the table. 

   You pick it up, inspecting the clear liquid inside before handing it over and you and Sam watch as he pours the liquid in and stirs the paint around. He picks up the bowl and holds out a piece of paper for him to copy from and you watch in awe as Dean expertly paints a large symbol on the wooden floor. 

   ‘The instruction manual’. You had been watching Dean so closely you hadn’t heard the footsteps of another person approach the three of you and you jump away in shock as she hands an old leather-bound book to Sam. 

   ‘It’s alright Y/N,’ Sam reassures you before turning to face the older woman who you assume must be Lily gives you a questioning look before turning back to Sam. ‘Thanks. All right, we’re almost set. Just got to get one more thing. I’m gonna go grab it.’ He says, he gives you a second reassuring smile before walking off. You watch him go, as he does, he grabs Dean’s attention and nods in the direction of you and the strange woman. 

   Dean puts the bowl and brush down on the ground as he stands up and walks towards you, watching where he steps. He gives you a quick smile before addressing Lily.

   ‘You know, I think we got off to a bad start. Um, I guess I should be thanking you.’

   ‘Apology accepted.’ You frown at Lily’s response and her attitude towards your Alpha, but you stay quiet, unwilling to test any boundaries on the first day. ‘Are you going to introduce me?’ 

   ‘Uh, right. This is Y/N, my mate. Y/N, this is Lily Sunder, an old...acquaintance.’

   ‘Nice to meet you.’ You nod from your corner with a small smile, not a fan of strangers. Lily was a beta, but she gives off a weird vibe that makes you uncomfortable. 

   ‘There, you’re acquainted, great. Except, something’s been bothering me. Uh, you know, if this magic of yours is so great...why’d you stop using it? You’re letting yourself get old. You’re letting yourself die. Why? Why risk going to hell if you don’t have to? There’s something you’re not telling us.’

   You raise your eyebrows at Dean’s words and look to Lily, waiting for her answer. Is this magic too risky to use on Jack? 

   ‘When Ishim took my daughter, I swore I’d kill him, even if it meant burning my entire soul. But it didn’t. I have a sliver, a whisper of my soul left.’

   ‘And?’ Dean prompts, getting impatient.

   ‘May--my daughter, my little girl--is in heaven. And if there is still a piece of my soul...Now do you understand?’ 

   You are deep in thought when Sam comes back carrying a box filled to the brim with candles. You watch as he places them down at different points on the symbol like he had done it hundreds of times before. 

   ‘Sweetheart.’ Your head whips up at the sound of Dean calling from the other side of the room, breaking you from your thoughts. ‘Why don’t you go make yourself that lunch we talked about.’ You glance back over to Sam who’s already looking at you, one eyebrow raised, a reminder of your promise. 

   ‘I was getting hungry anyway. You know where I’ll be if you need me.’ Sending your Alpha one last long look before making your way to the kitchen. 

   You take your time, deciding to make a pasta salad, one of your favourite home-made dishes from before your parents became alcoholics. 

   Twenty minutes later, one potato salad and a cup of tea, your curiosity gets the better of you. You quietly make your way down the hallway and poke your head around the corner to see Jack sitting up on the table saying words you don’t understand, Sam and Dean standing either side of him. 

   ‘Was that my soul?’ He asks, looking up at Dean.

   ‘How do you feel?’ Dean queries, his hands hovering over Jack as if he is expecting something to go wrong. 

   ‘Good. I feel...good.’

   Sam smiles as Dean gives Jack a quick hug.

   ‘It’s good to have you back’, he says with his hand resting on Jack’s shoulder. 

   You are about to join them when you notice Lily sitting in your favourite chair, umoving.

   ‘Lily, thank you,’ Dean speaks from beside Jack. 

   ‘Yeah. Lily..’ Sam’ voice is halted when he sees Lily. 

   ‘Lily?’ Dean calls once more but there is no response. 

   ‘How about Jack and I go back to his room, I can help him get settled?’ You ask tentatively from the door. 

   The Alpha’s turn to face you faster than you thought possible. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ Sam asks, his lips twitching as he tries to hold back a smile. 

   ‘Long enough. I got bored.’ You smile at Jack who slowly turns around to meet gaze.

   Dean rolls his eyes at your excuse for leaving the kitchen but keeps his opinions to himself all the same. ‘You wanna hang out with Y/N for a bit Jack? We’ve got some clean-up to do.’

   Jack nodded, ‘I like the sound of that,’ he says getting off the table and making his way over to you on wobbly legs. 

   ‘I’ve changed my mind, why don’t we break into Dean’s room instead.’ You suggest, wagging your eyebrows at him in excitement.

   ‘Can we watch Star Wars? I like that one.’

   ‘Jack, we can watch anything you want.’

[tippitv]

I wrote a pre-finale thing

Note that this isn't my ideal scenario or a scene that changes the finale to make that thing better. I do not have that ability or time. I tried to keep this canon compliant as much as possible, but I wanted an explanation for how Dean, the best hunter ever, ends up dying on a rusty nail and isn’t like yo call an ambulance!

It bothered me.

Potential tw: Could be considered suicidal thoughts but not any worse or more explicit than the show.

Timeline: Between eps 19 & 20

"Things He Said to the Dog"

"Listen, I don’t feel great about dragging you into this. You barely even know me. You thought you were coming home with us for kibble and belly rubs, not this.

“It's not really fair...is it? Dogs shouldn’t have to be therapists, listening to people’s problems all the time. Like… a bartender except you don't even get tips and you can't drink the leftover booze. But it's not like I can go to a real therapist about this. I guess they have their place for some people, but man. There's too much backstory to this. I just can't go through all that with a stranger, filling them in like they’ll even understand. I need to just spit this out without someone asking me probing questions. I’ll take you out for breakfast burritos after, okay? Only a little bit of bacon, though, okay? Sam says too much isn’t good for you. Hell, it’s not good for me, either, but screw it.

“Anyway. Um…

“Crap.

“Okay, so the thing is... My best friend... I guess there's no reason I can't use his name with you. Who are you going to tell? My best friend... Castiel. Cas. He told me he loves me.

“And I mean love love. The want-to-be-with-you stupid kind of love. The kind that messes you up and makes you see the best in someone and makes you sacrifice yourself like a damned idiot!

“Crap. I gotta try to calm down. It’s okay.

“And then he disappeared! Cas disappeared. I mean he died. He didn't just disappear. I know exactly what happened to him. I know exactly where he is, and I know what he's going through because he knew he was gonna get to just check the hell out after dropping a bomb on me like that. I know I sound angry. I'm not angry. I'm a little angry. I mean telling me something that big? That way? That's a dick move! And trust me, he’s pulled some dick moves before!

“I’m sorry.

“Hey. I’m sorry. Come here, don't look so worried. I'm definitely not angry at you. I'll try not to raise my voice. I just get... Frustrated, okay? He… He dropped that bomb and he was gone and I just have all this… shrapnel.

“I need to talk to him. I know I said he’s dead, which he is, but he still exists. It’s—it’s complicated.

“I don’t even know what I want to say. Do I… do I kind of… feel… whatever? For him? It’s confusing, even thinking it. I should get the chance to figure it out, though, right?

“But I only have one way to get to him... One person who can help me, and he said he was gonna be hands off. Which is for the best, I know. You start getting gods to do stuff for you here on Earth and you end up with more trouble than you want to deal with eventually. But I can talk to Jack in heaven, when I get there. Whenever that is.

“See? Then I'm not asking him to interfere or be Hands-On about earth stuff. At that point we're all just... Metaphysics or something. I can ask him to get Castiel out or, hell, just crack open a door for me and I'll go in there and get him myself! Grip him tight. Maybe we'll even get to laugh about that. After.

“Yeah. That’ll be a good ice breaker.

“It probably won’t even be that long from now. Not that I’m looking to kick the bucket, y’know, or leave Sammy. But I ain’t getting any younger. I’m practically geriatric for a hunter. I’ve been doing this almost forty years. I’ll screw up on a hunt or slip on a patch of ice or some dumb, stupid crap like that.

“And maybe… maybe I’ll just forget to call an ambulance, if I don’t bite it right away. Next thing you know, I’m ‘upstairs’ asking Jack to crack a door for me.

“Yeah. Metaphysics.

“And I'll ask Jack—no, I'll make sure that Jack lets dogs into heaven. You’ve got a soul, don’t you? Course you do. You, and all the hound dogs, and the street mutts who never even got a home once in their lives will get to go.

“What the hell, I'll even make sure the yorkies get there.

“You waggin’ your tail? You like that, huh?

“You think that’s good stuff, wait till you try the burritos at my favorite place. They fry the potatoes in bacon grease. It’s better than a butt scratch. Heh. Don’t ask me how I know.

“Don’t tell Sammy, though, okay? All this? All this stuff is a secret. The burritos and the... everything else. Just you and me.

“C’mon. Let’s get going. Yeah?

“Time’s wastin’.”

[explodingcolors]

The Aftermath

-1-

"Fuck, this is boring" Dean mumbled to the open field and drank his cold beer. He was leaning on the Impala parked on the side of the road. He'd been in heaven some months now, and already he had traveled through heaven's version of the U.S. twice now, but without the things that go bump in the night, without Sammy, and without Cas he felt kind of pointless and ...lonely. He wasn't though, not really, he regularly went to mom and dad's, and Bobby's, and to Ellen and Jo's, and to other people that were already there, but the place certainly lacked something. The most emotion he'd gotten was when he fought his way into Angel's HQ looking for Cas and Jack, he didn’t find them so he coerced a couple of angels to regularly inform him about how Sammy was, and whatever little they knew about what Cas and Jack were up to.

He closed his eyes and prayed aloud "Cas, man, I know you're busy with Jack and... stuff... but if you could come by sometime, just to let me know you're okay, just for a second... come on, buddy, I'm at highway XX at the XX marker", he finished his beer much slowlier than needed and climbed into the car, with his head on the steering wheel, he waited.

Every day he prayed to Cas, he told him what was going on with the family, or what he was up to, a memory from the good old days, or a random thought, and where he was, always where he was... just in case. Sometimes he was angry, demanding, sometimes he was almost pleading, the sadness and loneliness seeping out in his words, but he never talked about Cas's last moments on Earth, he couldn't talk about that, wouldn’t even think about that. He usually also sent a little prayer to the kid, some stupid story to make him laugh, or a memory of the few they shared, those prayers were shorter and easier, left him feeling a bit lighter.

Every day he had no answer.

When enough time had passed he snorted, turned the key, and started off. Some miles ahead he turned on the stereo, Metallica started playing loudly, but he wasn't singing along, his face was tight, jaw clenched, his soul felt heavy, hope was a bitch that got him every time. "Hello, Dean", a voice strained through the music. The car swiveled left then right crazily fast as Dean forced control over the steering wheel. "Cas" he breathed out.

Hastily he thrust the car to a stop on the side of the road and threw himself to the angel on his side, "Cas, finally!", he said and held on tightly, the angel returned the hug awkwardly, "I've been praying to you. Everyday! Where have you been?", he said when he finally let go, his relief had morphed to fury now. The angel looked sheepish, "I know. We've been working. It's taking longer than expected", Cas's eyes diverted to the back seat and he followed his gaze, "Jack!", Dean said and put a gentle hand on the boy's head, "I've been praying to you, too", the boy smiled, "I heard you, you made me laugh", his smile was as wide as ever, but there was something else there too, something heavy, concern? Dean wondered. "Ok, what's up?", he asked, "what do you mean?", Jack’s confusion was blatant on his face, he was a god now but in many ways, he was still just a kid, their kid. He looked at Cas, "you are not here on a social call, just tell me what’s going on", Dean's voice was serious now, back to business, his eyes half-rolled, but there was the faintest shadow of a smirk on his face, he was glad to be needed and even more glad to see them. Finally.

Cas lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, "what the hell, Cas?", Dean said, but then he noticed where they were, the bunker, "Sammy?", his voice was low, longing, then louder as he stood up from his chair, looking around, "Sam!", "He is not here, Dean. We are in heaven still", Dean swirled to face Cas, "Where is him? Where is Sam?", "He is on a vampire case in Atlanta, he is fine. This is not about Sam. I- I thought a familiar place would be better", "Better for what?", Cas looked at Jack, then again at Dean, "As you know, heaven is short on angels at the moment. We've been trying to bring them back from the empty", now Dean was pissed, "Come again? You want to resurrect those assholes who wanted me and my brother dead? And you and Jack, they wanted you dead too, Cas!", "Not all of them, Dean", "Yeah? Like who?", Cas looked at Jack and then down to his hands before sitting down and answering, "Balthazar, Hannah, Samandriel, Gabriel, Michael,...", Cas said and Dean started to understand, they were the closest Castiel had to angel friends, he must be feeling guilty for their deaths, suddenly, Cas lifted his head and gazed at Dean, the fuck? Dean thought. Cas was staring at him meaningfully, but the message wasn't getting through, after a few seconds of silence, Cas said, "Anna".

Dean tried to hold Cas’s stare questioningly, but the angel stood up and walked toward a bookcase. After an uncomfortable while, Jack said, "Can you help us?", looking at each of them in turn. Damn, he'd forgotten the kid was there. “What? uh, I, uh, what can I do about this?”, he looked at Cas for the answer, but he was still leaning with his hand on a bookcase. “We can’t get in”, Jack said. He explained that he was no longer able to get beings out of The Empty, nor enter it himself. He didn’t even know if he was able to wake them. The Empty must have done something to block him since he got Castiel out. “I want to ask Chuck about The Empty”, he finished, “You what?”, Dean was exasperated, this was not what he intended when he asked them to come by, “I told you it’s a bad idea”, Cas said finally. “But he doesn’t have powers anymore, he can’t do anything to us”, Jack said, it was clear he’d already had this argument with Cas, “And what makes you think that he will help us? He can trick you. He will trick you”, “That’s why we need you, he won’t be able to trick you, and I can make him talk, he’s human now, humans talk”, “You will not do that!”, Castiel and Dean said at the same time, “That’s not who you are, Jack”, Cas added, “You won’t ever do that!”, Dean said and stalked out of the room.

Without thinking, he went to baby, he was so used to the quiet of the road he craved it whenever something rubbed him the wrong way, but he’d waited so long for them to come by, he wasn’t leaving. He walked back inside, directly to his old room, everything was the same. He wondered what had Sammy done with his things. Had he given his room to another hunter? Somehow he doubted that. Maybe he took it for himself, it would be a mess by now. The thought brought a smile to his face. He laid on his memory mattress and closed his eyes. The thought of Jack torturing someone was disturbing but silly. Jack wouldn’t do that, he probably wasn’t even talking about that, it was just Dean’s own experience that had made him angry, the shame of the kid finding out about it. He should go talk to them, he decided, but in a while, he’d missed this bed.

Thoughts came by unbidden now. The awkward way Cas hugged him back, the pointed look, the way he said “Anna” and immediately walked away, what was that about? Was it- was it jealousy? He hadn’t allowed himself to think about Cas’s words before The Empty took him, but they were there, in the back of his head, “I love you, Dean”, he’d said, what did that mean, exactly? Cas had said those words before, to them when close to death, but that time it had felt different. He tried to remember, the exact words, “happiness isn’t in having but in being, in saying it, I love you, Dean”, and The Empty had been summoned because Cas was finally happy because he loved Dean and told him. Nope! No! That wasn’t it. He meant something else and was too ‘Cas’ to explain it properly and Dean too dumb to get it. It must have been something else. Not that. Not that. “Dean”, a soft voice called from the door, and Dean jumped so hard he nearly fell off the bed.

“Dean, I’m sorry. Were you sleeping?”, how long’s he been standing there? can he read my mind? does he know? “Eh, uh, I, no, I, no, I was thinking… about Jack and Chuck and all that”, “Ohh. Are you ok? About hell - Jack, didn’t mean to- he doesn’t know the details”, “I know, Cas, it’s fine, I’m fine, I’ll come out in a moment. We’ll figure it out”. Cas seemed to analyze him for a bit and decide he was fine, “There’s something else”, he said and looked at the floor, “Can I come in?”. “Uhm, yeah, yeah, come in, Cas”. He shut the door and sit on the bed next to Dean, “What’s- What’s up?”, “Dean, I’ve been struggling with this for a while. The reason why I’ve been avoiding you is that I am ashamed”, Dean swallowed hard, here we go, damn it, “I’ve failed you, Dean, I’ve failed Jack. I’ve been trying to help him figure out how to restore heaven but I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t want to become what I was the last time I failed you”, what? “What?”. “You know the things I did, Dean, when I took God’s place, I told Jack everything, but he says it’s not the same. He says that’s not what I’m doing and who I am anymore, but I- I don’t know. What if he’s wrong?”

At that moment his heart broke for Cas. He sat up and put his hand on Cas’s back. He’d known that he regretted the things he had done, but he never knew how deep his actions had affected him and shattered his confidence in his own decisions. Cas feared a bit of power would corrupt him again. “Cas, no. You always wanted what’s best for heaven. Even if you made some mistakes along the way, Jack’s right, you are not that person, uh, angel, anymore, the fact that you’re worried about it, proves it”, “I don’t know if I’m making the right choices, teaching him the right things”, “You are, Cas, you are good and you want to do what’s right, and Jack’s the same way, that’s why he chose you in the first place”. Cas lifted his head and looked at him, he’d never seen the angel so human, he had the impulse to hug him but settled for some pats on the back. “Thank you, Dean”, he said and left.

[mysteryartisticwriter]

Body Stealing Black-Eyed Bitch (2) // Jack Kline/Belphegor X Reader

A/N: This is part two so make sure you go read the first one in order for this one to make much more sense lol. This one is actually a lot longer than the first one because me being stupid didn’t equal it out.

TAKES PLACE DURING 15x01 (SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

Requested: Kinda...people wanted this second part but I was gonna make it anyway

Warnings: Blood, some forms of gore, some angst, and some heavy makeout session

PART 1

Not my gifs!! (Please tell me if you, the owner, would like me to take the gif down!)

-

The guys ran to the doors to check the outside while you stayed back and stared down the demon. He noticed you looking at him and smiled.

“What? No thank you?”

You scoffed. “As if I’ll ever thank you.”

You and Belphegor followed the older men to the outside. You exited the tomb and saw that the sky was still an eerie dark black, but the several dead walking bodies had collapsed on the ground, lifeless once more.

“Hey, it worked! High five!” Belphegor cheered, lifting his hand for high five that one paid any attention to.

“The spirits have been destroyed.” Castiel said, looking around the graveyard.

“No, I actually just blasted them out of those bodies.” Belphegor walked past the four of you.

“So where are the ghosts, then?” Dean asked.

Belphegor didn’t really give a proper answer and you all just sighed then headed toward the chevy impala. As always, Dean was driving and Sam was in shotgun. You, Castiel and Belphegor sat in the back, much to yours and Cas’ distaste. It was a bit worse for you since you were trapped in the middle of the two, meaning you were closer to the demon.

The five of you drove down the dark road as Sam checked online if there was anything on the news. Belphegor was checking out his vessel in the car’s mirrors.

“I mean, come on. I look good.” He said while fumbling with his glasses.

“Don’t get used to it.” You barked, your arms crossed and face blank.

“I’m gonna have to, sweetheart.”

“Anything?” Dean asked his brother, changing the subject.

Sam glanced at Dean with a strange look. “No, not yet. I mean, the news, they didn't...it just... I'm not seeing anything about a worldwide zombie apocalypse.”

“So... Ghostpocalypse. Maybe it's just happening here.” Dean suggested.

But Belphegor shrugged from the backseat next to you.

“Eh, for now. I mean the souls gotta go somewhere, right?”

“Yeah, how many are we talking about, by the way? Souls?” Sam asked, turning his body to face Belphegor.

“In hell?”

“Yes.”

“Two...three billion.” The demon shrugged nonchalantly.

Your eyes widened while Sam and Dean shared a dour face. They knew lots of souls escaped from Hell but not that many.

“Alright. Let's just stick to the plan, alright? We head back to the bunker, figure out how to close the rift.” Dean said.

Belphegor sucked in a breath. “If you can.”

You glared your eyes to him.

“Yeah well, you got a better idea?” You snapped.

“I do not. But if you wanted to buy some time, you could always contain the ghosts.” He told you.

“Contain them how?” Asked Sam.

“Magic.” He answered, as if it was obvious.

“And you just happen to know the right spell?” Cas pointed out.

“Lucky you.” Belphegor said, smirking at you.

You just rolled your eyes and sank back into your seat.

“What do you mean by "contain"?”

“Imagine a salt circle a mile wide. No ghosts get in, no ghosts get out.”

“No,” Castiel interjected. “That town, Harlan, Kansas is less than a mile from the cemetery.”

“Then we get everyone out.” Dean deadpanned.

“How?”

“We lie.”

-

It was already light once you guys arrived back in the town. Sam left the car to speak to the sheriff about the town’s evacuation, you, Dean, Cas and Belphegor were left in the car.

“We can handle the evac, so why don't you grab Crowley Jr. here whatever he needs for his spell?” Dean told you and Cas.

“No.”

“I’m not doing that.” You both protested at the same time.

“What?” Dean confusingly asked.

Castiel looked anywhere but Belphegor. “Dean, I can't. I-I...I can't even look at him.”

A terrible silence went through the car before Cas finally just sighed and left the car. Dean just turned back into his seat and pulled out his extra pistol, opening the glove compartment and shoving it in there out of plain sight. Belphegor took notice and looked over the seat to see what he hid.

“Uh, what’s that?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, cool.”

Dean looked at you in his rearview mirror and sighed.

“(Y/n), I’m gonna need you to help...Belphegor find his supplies and seal up the town. Once you finish the spell, come find us, okay?”

“I am not dealing with him...I can’t. This demon is inhabiting Jack’s-” You stopped. “He’s using his body, Dean.” You confessed to the eldest Winchester brother.

“Sorry, but I’m not asking, Singer.” Dean scolded you, using your last name.

Whenever he used it, you knew he meant business. No one ever called you by your adoptive father’s last name but the Winchesters and that only happened in times where you really pissed them off. You just scoffed and scooted farther away from the demon next to you.

Being near Belphegor kept reminding you that the love of your life was gone forever. Every memory, good and bad, about Jack replayed in your mind. From when you first found him, to teaching him to control his powers or even when he ran away. Your heart and mind ached, ached for your love back.

You noticed that Dean and Belphegor stepped out of the car so you followed on your side. Dean gave you strict instructions about the demon (mainly on making sure he didn’t go rogue and kill you) and then left you alone with him.

As you walked down the street, Belphegor walked next to you and watched several people who walked past you two. He eyed their appearances then whispered to you.

“So, people are, like, crazy good-looking now, eh?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in a mix of irration and confusion. “What?”

“I mean, the last time I was on Earth, when I was human. Ah, it was a while ago. I mean, but, you know, we were all worshipping this giant rock that looked like a huge penis, and...”

“Ew, dude, TMI.” You grimaced. 

“It’s true! Anyway, folks back then, they were, uh, ugly. You know? Had a lot of humps. I mean, a lot. Look at 'em now,” Belphegor stared at your body and smiled. “I mean, look at you. I mean, you're, uh, you know, beautiful.”

You halted in your tracks and a memory popped into your mind.

“You’re very pretty, (Y/n).” Jack told you.

You looked up at him in surprise. The two of you were just in the middle of searching for a case in the bunker’s library when he broke the silence with his words. Jack was just staring at you with a lovestruck gaze and you blushed heavily.

“Thank you, Jack. I think you’re very pretty, too.” You replied, trying to focus on your computer.

“No, no, I mean it.” You looked back up at him, staring into his piercing eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

A tear escaped your eye before you had a chance to wipe it away. Belphegor saw you had stopped walking so he looked to you and saw your bleak expression.

“Um... you good?” He asked, going to shake your shoulder but was stopped by you grabbing his wrist.

“Never touch me. Never call me beautiful. And don’t you ever ask me if I’m good,” You furiously wiped at the tears in your eyes. “Because I am never good.”

You could see out of the corner of your eyes that some people were starting to stare at you two. Although you were still angry, you let go of his wrist.

“Let’s just get your shit and get out of here. Wh-When are you gonna get out of that body, anyway?” You asked.

“Eh, when I find another one. I mean, I would've jumped at the cemetery, but all those meat suits were a little too, uh, you know, wormy. Difficult to blend, if you will.” Belphegor droned on.

“Yeah...sure.”

“So, uh...who was...he, anyway?”

You turned to him but continued walking. “What?”

“Well, I know he was your boyfriend and all but uh...who was this kid?” He curiously asked.

You hesitated before answering.

“His name was Jack. He was a lot of things. To the boys he was their kid. Kinda. But to me,” You swallowed. “He was important. My love, my light, my everything. And now he’s gone, with you inside his corpse.”

The demon could see the emotion in your eyes, even if you did try to keep a straight face, Belphegor could see what you were truly feelings.

“Oh. Uh...sorry.”

You shook your head and carried on.

“So, what do you need for this spell?

“You know, nothing much. Big bag of salt.”

“Easy.”

“And a...and a human heart.”

You physically groaned. You really need a break from death.

-

You exited the convenience store with a huge bag of rock salt. Turning to your left, you entered an alleyway where Belphegor was leaning against a brick wall. He noticed you coming toward him and brushed off his vessel’s clothing.

“Here’s your salt.” You said, handing him the bag.

“I’m going to call Dean about the heart. Maybe he knows a way to get one.”

You grabbed your phone from your pocket and began to search for Dean’s number in your contacts until you saw Belphegor staring at you. For a moment, he reminded you of Jack and his innocent gazes.

“Is there a problem?” You asked. He shook his head.

“No, no, it’s just...you’re very popular in hell.”

“I am?” You asked, pretty curious.

“Yeah. I mean, you may not be Winchester famous but still really well known.” The demon affirmed.

“And how exactly am I “well known” among Hell? I’ve been with the boys for almost eight years now and no demon has ever told me that I’m popular.”

“Kevin Tran, duh. He always talks about you, talks about how you were his best friend and how much he missed you- god he was so whinny.”

You stared at the demon with a blinking look, not sure if you had hear him correctly.

“K-Kevin? Kevin Tran?” You wanted him to confirm. He nodded.

“But God said- Chuck said he was going to Heaven. Kevin is supposed to be in Heaven!” You fumed, getting angrier by the second.

First that son of a bitch messed up your lives for his own entertainment, then he kills Jack, and now apparently he didn’t even send your old best friend to Heaven like he said he would! That lying bastard.

“I’m going to fucking kill that bastard of a writer.”

“Woah, woah, chill. Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to be calm! My best friend is in Hell!”

Your breathing started to pick up, your mind clouded by anger and you paced back and forth in the ally way. You didn’t even notice Belphegor come up to you and grab you by the shoulders.

Not really knowing anything else to do, Belphegor lifted your chin and smashed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widened in surprise and didn’t even have a chance to respond to the kiss. Because he was using Jack’s body, he tasted like him, felt like him and even the way he held you felt like Jack. For a moment, you forgot that it wasn’t Jack in his body, it was a demon.

After feeling you not freaking out anymore, Belphegor let you go and stared you in the eyes, you staring at your shocked reflection in his sunglasses.

“You calm now?”

You weren’t even thinking anymore. It had felt like forever since you kissed Jack, and even though your mind knew it wasn’t him, your body still craved for his touch again. Without even thinking, you forced your lips back onto his.

Belphegor responded almost immediately, kissing you with just as much passion as you did. His kisses were different, not the soft and sweet kind that your Jack and you always shared. No, this was different, what you felt was true lust and roughness.

You felt him push you up against the brick wall he was leaning against and you could feel his hips grind into yours. You moaned into the kiss, feeling Belphegor’s smirk against your lips. One of his hands found their way from your hips and almost up your shirt.

The hot and heavy kiss had only lasted for a while until Belphegor let your lips go. His stupid and cooky smirk was plastered on his face.

“Come on, we got a bunch of souls and ghosts to seal into this town, right?”

The demon walked past you and out of the alleyway, standing at the end and waiting for you. After everything that’s happened to you in the past couple of days, you managed to make a tiny smile at him.

-

Later, after calling Dean, you told him about the heart you needed for the spell and he suggested you going to morgue. You and Belphegor walked down the empty street, heading to your destination.

“So...about that heart.” He brought up the subject again.

“On it. Dean said that we could probably just head down to the morgue.”

You saw the demon shrug and scrunch up his face.

“Hmm. Fresh, it'd be... it would be better.”

You were about to answer when a man screaming in the distance caught your attention. Immediately, you ran towards the sound with Belphegor following behind you. You went down the street and around the corner to see the town’s sheriff laying on the ground, dead.

You kneeled down to the body and saw a closer look to his neck. There were deep scratches that cut deep and blood drained from his body onto the pavement.

You internally gagged, but managed to keep it down and covered your mouth with your hand. Belphegor wasn’t very affected from the dead man on the ground.

“Hmm, cool.”

You looked up to him with a weirded out face, he just shrugged as if it was nothing. Then again, he was a torturer in Hell for thousands of years.

“Fuck...”

“Yeah. Yeah, poor guy.” Belphegor said with no sympathy at all.

He leaned down toward the body and pushed his hand into the man’s chest, you backing away in disgust and shock. Belphegor pulled out a fresh, bloody heart and showed it to you.

“Well, I got a heart,” Bel smirked and held the organ out to you. “I would give it to you but-”

“I don’t care.” You deadpanned.

He raised his hands up in defense.

Suddenly, the air around you turned cold and when you exhaled, your breath turned white. You knew what this was, a ghost was near.

“We need to move. Now.” You commanded the demon until you heard a voice from behind you.

“Can you take me home?”

You turned around to see the woman in white that Sam and Dean had told you about, the first hunt they went on that started them on this journey together. She whipped her hand out and you went flying towards a nearby dumpster and some boxes.

You took a moment to breath and saw the woman walking towards Belphegor, ready to attack him. The demon backed away, still carrying the heart.

“O-Oh, hey. Look, okay?” He stammered, putting his hand out in front of him.

“Bad ghost! Bad!”

She once again swiped her hand at his lifted hand and created deep scratches into his palm. He winced at the pain and held his hurt hand close to his chest.

Just as the woman was about to pounce on him, you quickly grabbed an iron pole from the boxes and swung at the ghost with all your might. She disappeared right away but you knew she would be back.

“Bel, spell, now. Let's get the salt.”

After running back to grab the salt you had left in the alleyway, you grabbed it and poured it all into a large pile in the middle of the now deserted street. Belphegor then set the dead man’s heart in the center of the salt.

“We good?” You asked.

“We’re good.”

He stood firmly and began to chant the spell. 

“Animi...infernorum...spiritus abyssi surrecti...defigo...vos intra confinia. Vinciamni!”

As the salt and heart began to glow red, Belphegor set his hand firmly into the street in front of the ingredients. A powerful wave washed over the whole town then everything went back to being quiet once more.

-

After meeting up with the boys, along with a mom and her young daughter, you all rode back into the high school to drop off the little family. There wasn’t enough space in the backseat of the impala so you kind of just ended up sitting on top of Belphegor’s lap.

Dean stopped the car in a parking spot and him, along with his brother, turned to face the five of you in the back.

“So, what now?” The mother asked.

“Okay. You two go inside. We'll take care of the town.” Sam told them.

“And maybe don't tell anybody about the whole ghost thing.” Dean added.

“Or the angel thing.” Cas said, looking towards the girl and her mom.

“Yeah, that... that might freak them out.”

Belphegor scoffed from beneath you. “Uh, might?”

You elbowed the demon in the stomach, causing him to groan in pain. You then smiled softly towards the two.

“You’ll be okay, stay safe, alright?”

The mother and daughter left the car and you finally were able to get off of Bel’s lap. It was pretty uncomfortable for you but obviously, Belphegor had enjoyed every bit of it.

Dean drove off to the middle of the parking lot and stepped out of the car, everyone already had gotten off as well. He walked up to you standing next to Belphegor.

“Good to know that the spell worked. He cause any trouble?” Dean questioned, nodding towards the demon who just waved at him.

You looked at Bel then back to the tall man and shook your head.

“No. No, not really. Surprisingly, Bel is pretty okay for a demon. He can’t replace...”You stopped for a moment. Then you remembered the kiss in the alleyway, feeling guilty. “He didn’t cause any trouble. We’re fine.”

Dean looked suspiously between you and Belphegor but nodded and walked over to Cas. You turned over to the demon who was leaning against Baby.

“Bel, what happened in the alleyway...that can’t happen again. I-I mean, I just lost Jack and I can’t-”

Belphegor interrupted you before you could continue.

“Calm yourself, sweetheart. What happened in the alleyway can be our little secret, all right?” He raised his eyebrow in a sly manner, making you slightly giggle, something you haven’t done in a while.

“Our secret.”

You saw his left hand and remembered how the woman in white did some damage to it. You held your hand out so you could take a closer look at it.

“Let me look at your wound.”

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ve been through worse.”

“Don’t care. Give me your hand.” You persisted.

Belphegor sighed and lifted his hand to allow you to grab it. You looked over the three deep scratches in his palm and bit your lip in slight disgust. You dropped his hand.

“Let’s clean that up.”

You grabbed some supplies from the Winchester brothers since they were fixing up Sam’s almost infected bullet wound. Taking a piece of bandage, you cleaned up Bel’s scars then wrapped his hand.

“You really care about me, don’t you?” He teased, cockily.

You scoffed.

“You’re in Jack’s body, I don’t anything happening to yo- it. You’re still a body stealing black-eyed bitch, Bel.”

-

A/N: Oh my god, it’s like 7am and I have been up working on this since 1am. I really need food and sleep. Stay safe, loves!

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my Supernatural stories!

Someone messaged me and asked me if I could tag them but I completely forgot who so whoever messaged me, please do it again so I can add you!

TAGGED:

@shortwinchester​

@coltcas​

@urlaslongasafalloutboysongtitle​

[wigglebox]

tw suicide,

I've read a bunch of those specs to get comfortable with it, but it just doesn't sit right with me. No matter how I try to see choosing death to move on to a better place, my brain translates it as 'suicide is good, actually'. That would be a tough ending for Dean for a lot of people who, too, may feel like they have no purpose on earth I can imagine.

I can see people coming to that conclusion—but I would also hope it’s explained in a way. There’s suicide and then there’s the acceptance of death.

Suicide for most of us means a depression so deep and so strong that you can’t get out of the hole. Feeling worthless, unwanted, confused, and wanting to end the suffering. That people will be fine without you and you won’t be missed.

Now, that does sound a little like him doesn’t it?

But I also think there’s a flip side to that decision he may make and that’s not that he can’t find purpose, but that he was literally created with missing parts to function normally. Sam wasn’t. Sam had a girlfriend, went to college, experienced a normal life, looked like he had an apartment, had a goal for himself. His Heaven was Deans worse nightmare. He consistently had hope that somewhere down the road they’d be okay. He had experienced a level of love and happiness that Dean was born without the ability to access easily if at all while on Earth. He’s never even had his own car. His entire life each and every aspect of it has been tied to everything that changed when Chuck now gone.

Whenever I think of Dean trying to imagine what a perfect life is he comes up short. Something’s always off. The one time he had been in a “perfect life” je couldn’t even fully experience because he was trapped in whatever Michael wanted him trapped in but you could see a glimpse of what could make him happy. Family friends and just simple living. He has his own place where he could work and socialize with people he loves.

But all his friends are dead, some of his family is dead, and there’s no simple life he could live on earth. He can obtain love and happiness but he’s defaulted to not on earth. Yes he has found family as well down there but that would not be enough.

But clearly what he wants resides deeeep inside him to the point Michael knew to grab it.

And now let’s add on the fact he has finally unlocked some kind of love and respect for himself after all this time—he’s still going to struggle especially if someone he knows would love him back would not be there.

If he were to go to a newly constructed Heaven where people could do what they want without pain or suffering I imagine that’s a good choice for him. He can see all those that he lost and know that thise he left behind would be okay. Not that they would be okay without him but okay with pursuing a life he doesn’t have the DNA to figure out.

Before he got yanked to The Empty, Cas had said Dean isn’t that unfeeling took that took the brunt of everything and he took that in.

Hunting for him even small things will be a hollow satisfaction that indeed wouldn’t be satisfaction at all. That’s not who he is anymore. But that’s his default factory setting. Existing in a world with scant friends and scant family and still being latched to the side of his brother is no way for him to live when he needs much much much more because he never had the chance to experience it or believe he could obtain it for all of his entire life.

I think I’m talking in circles—point being is I don’t think it would be suicide—I think it would just be accepting Death as not an ending but something that leads him to something he’s never had before and would continue to struggle on earth to obtain: peace happiness and love.

Idk if that makes sense. But to me it’sike Cas’ decision to “die”. He decided to go because he chose happiness. (A sad form but if that spec holds true then it won’t be sad much longer).

[rebelminxy]

It Was Worth It

Word Count: 2340

Pairing: Dean Winchester and Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mild Language

Square Filled: Crossroads Demon

A/N: In this fic, Dean never broke the first seal, being pulled out of Hell before he could. The ending takes place in 4x7, right after Sam sends Samhain back to Hell. And yes, I do realize the symbol in the art above isn’t a seal of sorts but it was the best option I could find on Pinterest to fit with the storyline imaging. Please don’t @ me XD. This was written for @heavenandhellbingo​

Summary: After watching a hellhound tear to shreds your best friend four months ago, you decide to do the worst possible thing ever and make a deal with a demon. But what do you have that’s worth more than a Winchester soul?

Heaven and Hell Bingo

        Dean Winchester saved your life so many times, you had lost count. The man was like an older brother to you, your best friend, and he was gone. Torn away, literally, from you. All because of his baby brother, Sam. 

        After watching Dean being torn to shreds, you left, leaving Sam behind. You knew Sam’s promise to his brother to watch out for you but you didn’t care. Your connection with Sam wasn’t as strong as it was with Dean. So leaving Sam behind as you drove off in your Jeep wasn’t a big issue. You spent the last three months hunting, finding a way to get Dean out of Hell, drinking, and sleeping, in that order and on repeat. Sam and Bobby tried reaching out, calling you constantly, but you just ignored their calls, eventually getting a new phone. Those three months felt like years, lost at sea with no guidance, all alone. Once the fourth month hit and with no other answers, you knew exactly what needed to be done. 

        As you prepared yourself for the worst, you thought back on your moments with Dean. You first met through Bobby, an old man that took you in at the age of 15 after your parents died on a hunt. Being raised in the life, you knew the dangers. But that still didn’t scare you off when you were old enough to start hunting on your own. Bobby kept you hidden while you grew up, not even introducing you to John and his boys whenever they came around. But once you turned 18, you went on your own to hunt those that lurked in the darkness, your anger from losing your parents tearing through the monsters you killed. 

        It was on your 21st birthday that you met Dean. Sucker was cocky and thought he could get into your pants with a few words. But all he got in return was a punch on the nose and an f you. After that, Dean made it his job to follow you everywhere. You hated it at first but had to admit the guy was helpful on hunts. Especially since he had a real sweet ride. After a year of hunting together, it became the norm. Him coming over to Bobby’s to take you out on a hunt, riding around and sharing a motel room. 

        Your relationship with Dean became the sibling type, even though he had a brother who had gone off to college. ‘Wanting that apple pie life’ he would always say when it came to Sam. But you could see how sad he was when it came to his brother. Eventually, Sam would join the both of you, losing his girlfriend to the same monster that took their mother when they were younger. Everything was how it should be, Dean getting his brother back, the three of you getting along, hunting down the thing that deserved to die after their father’s death. All smooth sailing until Sam’s death.

        You felt for Dean, losing his brother. He wanted to be alone with Sam, so you went to stay at Bobby’s, hoping Dean would come back. But when he did, Sam was right behind him, as if nothing happened. You watched as Bobby dragged Dean out into the yard, away from the house. Excusing yourself from Sam, you followed, keeping quiet as you heard Bobby yell out.

“You made a deal, for Sam didn’t you?” Bobby asked desperately. 

        Dean didn’t answer, you could see him turn his face away from Bobby.

“How long they give you?”

“Bobby,” Dean begged.

“HOW LONG?”

“....One year.”

        Your eyes went wide in shock, holding in the scream that was itching at your throat.

“Damnit, Dean.”

“Which is why we gotta find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch. This is why ama kill him myself, I mean I got nothing to lose now, right?”

        Bobby grabbed Dean by the jacket and shook him as if trying to wake him up.

“I could throttle you!”

“And what, send me downstairs ahead of schedule?”

        Bobby let Dean go, letting you see the anger on his face, probably the same level of anger you felt at that moment, maybe more.

“What is it with you Winchesters, huh? You, your dad, your both just itching to throw yourselves down the pit.”

“That’s my point. Dad brought me back, Bobby, I’m not even supposed to be here!’

        You felt the tears begin to break, reminding you of the scare you recently had at the thought of losing Dean, losing your big brother. 

“At least this way, something good can come out of it, you know. It’s like my life can mean something.”

“WHAT! And it didn’t before?! Have you got that a low opinion of yourself! Are you that screwed in the head?”

“I couldn’t let him die, Bobby,” Dean muttered, the sadness in his tone. “I couldn’t. He’s my brother.”

“How’s your brother gonna feel when he knows your going to Hell? How will (Y/N) feel? How’d you feel when you knew your dad went for you?”

“You can’t tell them,” Dean begged. “You can take a shot at me, do whatever you gotta do but please don’t tell them.” 

        That’s when Bobby released the tears you already had dropping silently. You watched as the old man pulled Dean into a hug, both crying into each other’s shoulders. You fought back the scream and quietly went back into the house, avoiding Sam at all costs. You went into your room and cried it all out, your heartbreaking at the knowledge of losing the man that saved you from yourself so many times. 

=====

        Right as you buried the tin box with everything inside, you heard a chuckle behind you.

“Well, well, isn’t it the Winchester’s little pet? Didn’t expect to see you out here after Sam stopped begging. Didn’t he tell you, we got what we wanted…”

“I got something better,” you interrupted, turning to face the crossroads demon. 

        The body before you was a woman who looked like she was in her early twenties. But the red eyes made it clear you were talking to who you needed.

“And what do you have that we don't?”

        Without another word, you opened your button-down to reveal your chest. Right above your heart was a marking engraved into your skin, something you’ve had since you could remember.

“You see, the Winchesters aren’t the only ones that descended from the Cain family tree. Cain had a daughter, one that her mother kept hidden because of her magical abilities. This daughter was marked with a sigil by an angel that warned Cain’s wife about the potential danger this family line could cause.”

        You pointed at the marking on your chest and smiled coyly.

“Each baby born from this bloodline get this engraved over their hearts, a sigil that hides our blood so that no magical beings can find them. Not only are we a direct line from Cain, but we females all have magical abilities that are locked away with this sigil, only being able to use them when the sigil is broken.”

“You’re lying!” the demon exclaimed.

“Ask your supervisors and see what they tell you.”

“Give me a moment with her,” a voice softly spoke from the shadows.

        You turned to see a blonde woman walk out from the darkness, her eyes white.

“Lilith,” you growled, having a strong urge to kill the bitch where she stood, but knew that it wouldn’t save Dean.

“Glad to see you alive and well, now what’s this about your family bloodline?”

        Before she took another step towards you, you pulled out your knife and pointed it out to her. She stopped in her tracks and watched you as you lifted the knife and slowly cut through the carving, breaking the skin. You screamed out in pain as you felt your body vibrate, the ground shaking as the knife broke the symbol in half. Once the cut was through the symbol, everything went quiet, your blood seeping down your skin. But Lilith’s eyes grew wide in joy and she laughed as she finally sensed your blood.

“Wow! Cain had mentioned one of his children dying but no one suspected he was lying! I certainly can’t let you go, missy, not with that power running through your veins.”

“I’m here to make a deal, bitch,” you growled at her as you lifted the knife to your throat. “My life for Dean’s.”

“And what makes you think we will make that trade?”

“Because, the moment you set Dean free, I will do anything you ask.”

“Anything?” Lilith asked in a sing-song tone.

“Anything,” you whispered, sure of your choice.

        Lilith giggled and moved towards you, standing very close. Her mouth was mere inches from yours when she giggled again and whispered ‘Deal’. You moved in and kissed her right on the lips, making the contract. 

========

“Well done there, Sammy boy. But a little too late on NOT breaking the seal.”

        The brothers turned towards you, eyes wide in shock as they saw you walk out of the shadows. You wore a black sheer lace turtleneck dress with long sleeves and a very high V split cutout in the front, black bra underneath. You wore a pair of black leather shorts under the dress and black ankle-high leather combat boots Your hair flowed in waves all the way down to your waist, black as night compared to your original (Y/H/C), a wide brim hat on the top of your head. 

“Hey there boys, long time no see,” you smiled at them.

“(Y/N/N), what happened…” Dean stuttered. “Where have you been?”

“Been here, been there, been everywhere really,” you teased as you walked around them. 

“Bobby and I tried looking for you,” Sam stated, the anger rising. “We thought you were dead!”

“I was, trust me after Dean’s death I died. But, with a small change, I am more alive than ever,” you giggled.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked. “And how did you find us?”

“Been watching from the background, keeping close but not close enough for you to know.”

“And why didn’t you help us? Why are you hiding until now?” Dean pressured.

“Because my job was getting boring so thought I might make it a bit more fun.”

        You smiled wickedly at them as your eyes turned black. The shock and fear on their faces made you cackle with joy.

“Like I said, more alive than ever boys!”

“What did you do?” Dean urged.

“Eh, deal gone wrong, meant to save you. But, honestly, this feels so goddamn right!”

        You skipped towards them, causing them to back up into a wall. You stopped about three feet from them and smiled, tilting your head to the side.

“Why? Why did you do it?” Dean questioned. “The angels….”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. The moment I made the deal, those fluffy dicks went in and broke you out. They reacted out of desperation but they were too late.”

        You began to swing on your heels, smiling as you stared at Dean, your black eyes never leaving his green ones.

“But, even though they got you out, didn’t mean crap when it came to breaking the first seal.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked.

“As the prophecy states, the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell,” you giggled as you continued. “Well, they were wrong about it just being a man.”

“You didn’t,” Dean whispered as the realization hit him.

“Oh, I did! And I reveled in it!”

“Why? Why did you do it? Your deal was broken!” Sam yelled at you.

“The deal wasn’t broken, my life for Dean’s. Dean up top and mine down in the Pit, didn’t specify the how.”

“(Y/N), you are better than this,” Dean began.

“I was Dean!” you screamed at him, causing him to step back. “I was until I lost the one person that made me feel whole, that made me feel like I had a family. I lost the man I called brother for some snotty nose brat!” you spit out as you looked at Sam.

“(Y/N), you are like a sister to me,” Sam added, but the look you gave him stopped him.

“It’s because of you Dean went to Hell in the first place,” you roared, moving closer to Sam. “It’s because of you Dean had moments where he felt alone. It’s because of you Dean would never love me the way he loves you!”

        The jealousy raged from your voice as to stood inches from Sam. You then moved in to whisper into Sam’s ear, making sure Dean couldn’t hear.

“But if he knew what you and Ruby were doing, well, that love would end in a heartbeat. But I’m not that kind of bitch.”

        You moved away from Sam, giving him an evil smile, his eyes letting you know he was afraid. You then turned, giving the brothers your back.

“Just so we are clear, this isn’t the last you will see of me. But if either of you gets in my way, I won’t hesitate to kill.”

“(Y/N), please, we don’t want to lose you,” Dean begged, making you turn around.

“Oh, you lost me the moment I found out about your little deal.”

        You extended out a hand and pushed them both against the wall, hard. Once they got their bearings and searched the room to look for you, you were already gone. You watched them from a crystal ball in your little apartment miles away from where they were. You watched as they looked everywhere in the room, finally giving up and heading out the crypt. You waved your hand and the inside of the crystal turned into black smoke. You turned away from it and looked out the giant window into the night, smiling.

“Good luck, boys. Gonna need it while dealing with me.”

[katehuntington]

How You & I Will Be - part five (finale)

Fandom: Supernatural Main characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (mentioned), Bobby Singer (mentioned) Pairing: Dean x Reader Serie summary: When a hellhound case in the mountains goes sideways, Dean and Y/N find themselves trapped in a small cabin, miles from civilization. A serious injury forces the two hunters to come to terms with their true feelings for each other. Rescue is on its way, but will it be in time? Part 5 warnings: angst, severe anxiety, nightmares, hallucinations, swearing, alcohol, description of blood and injury, possible character death. Some fluff. Music: ‘Lullabye’ by Billy Joel Word Count: 2154 words Author’s note: This is it, folks. The end of my mini series, and what a pleasure it was. Thank you @idreamofhazel and @littlegreenplasticsoldier for helping we work on this, you both are wonderful betas. Fair warning when you proceed: I managed to move them both to tears. @littlegreenplasticsoldier even made clear that I will have to hire someone to do my obit at my funeral, because I will have no friends left after this.

Find the ‘How You & I Will Be’ masterlist here!

     It turns out Y/N has a little more time on her side than they initially thought. Not that she will be able to remember much, since she laid in Dean’s arms unconscious most of the time, but somehow the huntress has made it till sunrise. Despite her brave attempt, her condition deteriorates with every minute that passes. During the hallucinations, Dean pulled her into his lap, holding the girl he loves with everything he’s got, like he would comfort an infant. The acid trip-like dreams had her in confusion and all he could do to sooth her, cradling her gently, whispering sweet words and promises.

     The nightmares seem to have passed now, setting in a new stage that is just as ominous. She has been unresponsive for quite a while, as if she has drifted off into a coma. It feels as if she’s slipping through his fingers like desert sand and there’s nothing he can do about it. Sometimes it takes over twenty seconds for her to breathe in again, which is only a weak gasp for air. Between those inhales Dean keeps her close to his chest, begging silently for her to take another breath, to stay a little longer.

     Red ashes have turned into grey charcoal overnight, causing the temperature in the cabin to drop. Now Dean’s leather jacket is the only item that can provide her some warmth; even if there were wood left, he wouldn’t let her go to restart the fire. The storm has passed quickly and it wouldn’t surprise Dean if it was the work of that witch that owed Bobby. The rescue-team was supposed to start their climb at the break of dawn; they are probably well on their way, now that the first rays of sun peek over the ridge, watercoloring the sky with pink and purple. The mountaintop of Glacier Peak is outlined with gold that glows ever brighter as the sun comes up. It’s a beautiful sight, one that Dean enjoys intently, aware that these will be the final moments he’ll have with his girl. 

     When the sunshine spreads a warmth in the cabin, illuminating the fibers of dust that float in the air surrounding them, Y/N opens her eyes slightly without Dean noticing it. The scenery outside captivates her. The view looks more like a painting from Leonid Afremov than it would seem like reality, and for a second she wonders if she’s hallucinating again. But when she observes Dean, who admires the spectacular scenery as well, she guesses it’s nature’s way of saying goodbye.

    “Well…” she rustles, words coming out raspy. “If that isn’t the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen….”

     Stunned, Dean looks down at her. He honestly didn’t expect her to ever open her eyes again, but here she is. A moment of clarity. God, it’s nice to hear the sound of her voice again, despite it not being more than a weak whisper.      “Hey, you,” he returns, smiling down.      She smiles back, glad to be able to gaze up into those depthless green eyes once more. He lovingly strokes some wayward hair from her forehead, and places a tender kiss on her skin. Embracing the moment, she closes her eyes and sighs as her grin reaches wider. When he pulls back and witnesses the satisfied expression on her face, he suddenly notices the difference; she’s made peace with her fate. It scares him deeply, he isn’t anywhere close to prepared for her coming death.      “You wouldn’t be able to squeeze out a few more hours by any chance?” he pleads. “The rescue workers are on their way.”      For a moment she opens her eyes again, clearly worn out by the fight for life. She swallows with difficulty and lets the air escape from her lips, finding it harder to inhale every time she does so.      “I’m so tired, Dean….”      Her voice fails, but he heard her. The hunter nods slowly, accepting the true message behind her words. The fight is over. She’s lowered her weapons. With difficulty, he gulps, trying to ignore the sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. After all, he has to be strong for her. 

     But she’s no fool; she can see right through it. Y/N knows how hurt he is, how he’s trying so hard to prevent himself from caving. She might be okay with the fact that her hour has struck, he can’t say the same. The thought of letting her go causes the tears to pool in his eyes.      “Hey… It’s alright,” she tries to comfort him.      He scoffs, amazed by her urge to care for him, even now.      He manages a quivering breath. “I should be telling you that.”      “I’m not the one who’s about to be left behind, am I?” she reminds him.

     It’s a solid point. Who knows where she might drift off to. Heaven, the light, whatever one would want to believe. Dean will remain right here, on this spot of land without her.      “What do you think is gonna happen next?” he wonders out loud. “Lights out and that’s it?”      “Hell, no,” she chuckles, having found a little more spirit to strengthen her words. “It’s gonna be either Vegas or Hawaii. I haven’t decided yet.”      Dean scoffs through the tears, imagining it for a moment. He hopes she’s right, it makes the idea of dying a little less terrifying.      “Maybe my heaven will be driving down the road towards the sunset in the Impala, backseat to myself…” she continues on a serious note. “Maybe it’s this, this moment right here with you. This view.”

     Dean follows her thousand-yard stare through the window that portrays the colorful picture outside. As the sun rises further, it casts an golden light over the snowy mountains, and Y/N takes a moment to count her blessings. Sure, she wishes she would’ve had more time, but it isn’t the worse way to go. The man she gave her heart to is holding her close and they got the chance to spend their final moments together. The man who told her: I love you. The man she told: I love you, too. It’s not that bad, actually.      “Promise me something?”      He turns to face her again, waiting for a follow up.      Trying to speak, her voice hitches in her throat as breathing becomes more difficult. Her fragile state indicates it won’t take long now. “Promise you’ll let your friends and family help you. Promise you’ll talk to Sam. Don’t bottle it up this time, okay?”      The pressure on Dean’s chest becomes so heavy that his airway constricts. He is able to keep a hold of her questioning gaze, though.      “I promise,” he assures, choking up.      “And no deals,” she continues. “I know you’ve been thinking it.”      “Y/N -”      But she won’t have it and interrupts his attempt to object instantly.  “No, Dean. I don’t want you to get torn up by those hounds. If you make a deal, you’ll go to hell,” she pauses to catch her breath. “And where I’m going… It’s not a bad place.”      Dean sighs after a moment’s consideration, trying to blink away his tears as he admits to her conditions with a nod. “Alright.”

     She smiles slightly, glad to have his word and relieved that she got the message across. It remains quiet for a couple of minutes as her respiration slows down even further, taking down her pulse as well. Scared, Dean holds his love, watching her subside, further and further away from him.      “Dean?”      His name is barely audible, it’s more of a breath than her voice.      “Yeah?”      She forces her eyes open, taking in the hunter above her. For the first time since last night, tears stain her beautiful eyes. Dean knows exactly what she’s trying to capture, because he’s trying to accomplish the same. He takes her in, every feature, every perfect flaw. A few lost birthmarks that decorate her face and neck. That scar on her chin that she always tries to cover up with a scarf or the collar of her jacket. The slight frizz in the lock of hair that she cusses about whenever it’s rainy or windy. And damn, those eyes, those gorgeous eyes.      “I-I think it’s time….” she stammers weak.

     She’s might be okay with dying, that doesn’t mean that she isn’t scared of what lays ahead. Of course she’s terrified, who wouldn’t be scared of the unknown? Vampires, ghosts, demons; she faced them all. But with every single monster she came across, she knew a way to defeat them. Never, ever, did she show up for a fight unprepared. At the verge of battle she was armed with a weapon of choice, if it was silver, salt, dead man’s blood or the Colt. She knew her opponent, she did her research, she read the lore. But she can fantasize about casinos or white sandy beaches all she wants, the truth is that nothing can prepare anyone for what awaits on the other side.      “It’s alright, Y/N. I’ve got you,” Dean comforts, pulling her even closer, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I’m right here. I won’t leave your side, I promise.”      She cries against his chest silently, wheezing every time she tries to inhale. Dean’s heart is beating out of his chest as hers will stop any moment now.      “Y-you know what my mom’s favorite song was… to sing to me?” she whispers, referring to their talk days ago, about music and songs sang by their mothers. “It was Lullabye... Billy Joel… She always sang Lullabye.”      “It’s a good song,” Dean gets out with difficulty.      “It is,” you smile into his shirt, before she softly whispers the first lines.

     Goodnight, my angel      Time to close your eyes      And save these questions for another day

     Dean joins in with her, cradling his dying girl to the rhythm of the song. The melody somehow makes it easier to pronounce the words.

     I think I know what you've been asking me      I think you know what I've been trying to say      I promised I would never leave you, and you should always know      Wherever you may go, no matter where you are      I never will be far away

     She lets Dean take over the vocals completely, listening to his emotional yet clear voice. It hushes her into a deep sleep from which she will never wake again. Slowly Y/N sinks further into the depths of unconsciousness. But she can still hear him, she can still hear Dean. Scientists have proved that the sense of hearing is the last one to perish when a person dies. Seems like they are right.

     Goodnight, my angel      Now it's time to sleep      And still so many things I want to say      Remember all the songs you sang for me      When we went…

     He stops mid-sentence, waiting for some kind of response from Y/N. A flinch, her chest rising, anything. But nothing happens. There’s no cloud of humid air coming from her lips, even the drum in her chest has stopped playing. When he lifts his chin off her head and loosens his grip on the woman in his arms slightly, he is able to behold the blank expression on her pretty face, eyes slightly opened, but her soul is gone.

     “Y/N…?”

     Shocked he stares at her as a lump obstructs his throat. A hole in his stomach grows larger when the harsh reality replaces his denial. Dean can’t prevent the tears from building up in his eyes and so he looks up, hoping that they won’t fall down, but they fall anyway. Unable to cope with the avalanche of sorrow that hits him like a freight train, his bottom lip starts to quiver and slowly he begins to move back and forth, mourning, as he presses her lifeless body against his.

     He lost her. For a few moments she was his and now he’s lost her. He whispers her name in her hair, tells her he loves her once more and then again. God, he would give anything to see her react to those words, by throwing him that amazing smile.      Softly he continues to sing the song. The earth turns and the sun shines its light on the both of them. His voice is shaking so badly that he has trouble getting anything out at all. Being able to hold and cradle her helps, and so he sets off again where her death caused him to pauze.

     Remember all the songs you sang for me      When we went sailing on an emerald bay      And like a boat out on the ocean      I'm rocking you to sleep      The water's dark and deep, inside this ancient heart      You'll always be a part of me

     Someday we'll all be gone      But lullabies go on and on      They never die      That's how you and I will be

The end, people. Thank you so much for reading my story. I appreciate every single one of you. If you would like to talk about this or if you need a grief-counselor, let me know. Feedback is very much appreciated.

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How You & I Will Be tag: @deanwnchstr @parkeret @professionalspnfangirl @tmiships4life

[woods2006gal]

Chapter 07 - Hunteri Heroici

Addison raises an eyebrow when she finds Dean grabbing a couple of beers out of the gas station’s coolers. “Dude, it’s ten in the morning,” she says, joining him. She had a bottle of orange juice and an apple in her hands. Dean stares at her. “What?”

“When did you switch bodies with Sam,” Dean questions.

“Excuse me for not wanting to die of alcohol poisoning,” Addison counters, heading towards the register.

“Maybe you could use some alcohol poisoning,” Dean retorts. Addison shoots him a confused look. He grabs her arm and pulls her off to the side. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t been sleeping.”

Addison raises an eyebrow. “You’re talking to me about not sleeping.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Hey, I’m relying on you to cover my ass.”

Addison shakes her head and walks up to the counter. After paying for their groceries and gas, they make their way back to the Impala where Sam was on the phone and pumping gas. “Right, yeah. No, just, uh…just call us whenever you find something. Yeah. Yeah, course. Right, I - I, uh…Yeah, hey, you know what? Uh, Dean’s here. He really wants to talk to you,” Sam says, then shoves his phone at Dean.

Dean shoots his younger brother an annoyed look. “Mrs. Tran, yeah, hi, uh…” He hangs up and tosses the phone back to Sam. “Tunnel. What’s going on in Tran-land?”

“Well, uh, Garth finally got them to his houseboat, but Kevin’s having a lot of trouble reading their half of the tablet,” Sam explains. “So far, bits and pieces. Nothing about boarding up Hell.”

Addison raises an eyebrow. “Garth has a safe houseboat?”

“I don’t even ask questions anymore.”

Sam takes out the pump out of the Impala as Dean walks over to where Castiel was leaning against the Impala and reading the newspaper. “What’s the word, Cas,” Dean asks him.

“It’s a shortened version of my name,” Castiel replies, not looking up.

“Yes, it is. I meant what’s the word on the Word? Any, uh, tablet chatter on angel radio?”

“Oh, I couldn’t say. I turned that off.”

“You can do that,” Addison questions, exchanging a look with Sam.

“Yeah, it’s a simple matter of blocking out subsonic frequencies. I could draw you a diagram if you want.”

“No, that’s — we’re good. Why’d you flip the switch,” Dean asks.

“Because it’s a direct link to Heaven. And I don’t want anything to do with that place — not anymore.”

“So, what now? Move to Vermont, open up a charming B&B?”

Castiel sighs. “No. I still want…I still need to help people. So, I’m gonna become a hunter.”

Addison snorts. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I could be your forth wheel.”

“You know that’s not a good thing, right,” Dean tells the angel.

“Of course it is. A fourth wheel adds extra grip, greater stability.” Castiel holds up the newspaper. “I even found a case. Oklahoma City. A man’s heart jumped ten feet out of his chest. It sounds like our kind of thing, right?”

Sam exchanges a look with Dean and Addison. “He’s got a point.”

“Excellent,” Castiel brightly replies. He taps the roof of the Impala and starts to walk away. “I’ll see you there.”

 “Wait, Cas. Cas,” Dean yells, causing the angel to look at him. “If you want to play cowboys and bloodsuckers, that’s fine. But you’re gonna stick with us, okay? None of this zapping around shit. Capiche?”

Castiel nods. “Yeah, I capiche.”

“All right, then.”

Dean walks over to the driver’s door. Addison opens the door behind him and starts to climb in. “Can I, uh, at least ride in the front seat,” the angel asks.

Dean and Sam exchange a look. “No,” they say together.

~*~

“Coroner said his heart was ejected from his body,” the detective tells the hunters and angel. They were all in the morgue, taking a look at the body from the case that Castiel had found them. “Got some air too. Found it in a sandbox.”

“Any idea what happened, detective,” Sam questions.

“A lot of people are thinking drugs, Agent Nash. An assload of drugs.”

“There are no narcotics in that man’s system,” Castiel tries to quietly tell Dean. Except he’s loud enough for Addison, Sam, and the detective to hear him. “His molecules are all wrong.”

“And you don’t think that’s what happened,” Addison asks.

The detective pulls back the sheet covering the victim’s body. An heart shaped hole was in the middle of his chest. “Never seen an eight ball do that.”

“Whoa. Who called it in?”

“Friend of his named Olivia Kopple. She saw the whole thing,” the detective explains, pulling the sheet back over the phone. Her phone rings and she looks at it. “Oh. Ah, shit. I have - I have to take this.” The detective hands the file to Sam. “Here’s everything we got. Knock yourself out.”

Sam nods. “Thanks.”

“Listen, you see anything weird, anything out of the box, you give us a call,” Dean tell the detective, handing her a business card.

“Whatever you say, Scully,” the detective replies, taking the card and walking out of the room.

“I can’t sense any EMF or sulfur,” Castiel says, looking over the body. “Mr. Frieling’s arterial health is, uh, excellent.” Addison raises an eyebrow when he leans over the body and sniffs. “Mm. He did recently suffer from a…mild, uh…” He sniffs once more. “What is that? Bladder infection.”

“Cas, stop smelling the dead guy,” Dean tells the angel.

“Why? Now I know everything about this man. So we can—”

“Do you know he was having an affair,” Sam interrupts, looking up from the file.

“What?”

“Strike one, Sherlock,” Dean mutters. Addison smacks his chest.

“According to Olivia, they would meet at the park every Thursday at 12:45, walking to the Moonlight diner, where she always ordered a Caesar salad, dressing on the side. They would chat about everything and she’d be back on the road by 1:30.”

Castiel looks between the three hunters. “You don’t think she’s telling the truth.”

“Way too much detail. And it sounds very rehearsed,” Addison tells him.

“Plus, we drove past the Moonlight diner on the way into town,” Sam continues. “It’s attached to the Moonlight motel.”

“Okay, well, let’s say that, uh Gary here’s on the prowl, but he’s playing it safe because…” Dean trails off as he lifts up Gary’s left hand to reveal a wedding ring. “Dude’s married. Doesn’t want anyone to see his ride parked out in front of a by-the-hour fleabag.”

“So, he stashes his car at the park across the street, meets Olivia there.”

“His wife probably found out about it and it broke her heart.”

“So, she breaks his,” Addison reasons. “Very witchy.”

Dean nods. “Yes, it is. Guy was living a lie and it came back to bite him in the ticker.” Addison pats Castiel’s shoulder. “But nice job on the bladder infection.”

~*~

Mrs. Freling was a woman in her early forties. With perfectly styled brown hair and perfectly done make up. She wore a black dress and layers of jewelry Her house was a standard two story home in a suburb with an perfectly done kitchen. She was sitting at the kitchen table. “I don’t understand,” she says. “Gary had a heart attack. Why would the FBI—”

“The parks are government property,” Dean interrupts. “We just got a few questions for you.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll handle this. I’ve done research. I can crack her,” Castiel whispers to the trio. Addison watches as the angel walk over to the table. “Now, Mrs Freling, I don’t want to bother you. I - I really don’t. But I - I do have just one question for you.” Castiel slams his hand down on the table causing Mrs. Freling to jump. “Why did you kill your husband?!”

Mrs. Freling sobs. Addison shoots Dean a look, imploring him to do something. “Agent Stills. A word, please,” Dean says.

Castiel walks over to Dean. “What? I was being bad cop.”

“No, you were being bad everything.”

“Please, forgive my partner,” Sam says, sitting down at the table. “He’s, uh, he’s going through some stuff.”

“Listen to Sam,” Dean whispers to the angel.

“What he was trying to ask…is…is there any way Gary might have had secrets…something he was hiding?”

Mrs. Freling shoots him a confused look. “Hiding? Like what?”

“Was there anything that Gary might have been doing that raised suspicions,” Addison softly asks.

There’s a knock at the door, then it opens. “Deb,” a woman calls out. The group turns to see a light haired brunette woman enter the room with a casserole dish.

“Olivia,” Mrs. Freling greets, walking over and hugging the woman.

Addison exchanges a look with Sam. “Are you okay,” Olivia asks.

“As in mistress Olivia,” Dean quietly asks, looking over at Sam and Addison.

“This is awkward,” Castiel states.

Mrs. Freling wraps an arm around Olivia and turns back to the hunters. “I’m sorry. What did you think Gary was hiding?”

“That he was sleeping with her,” Castiel blurts out.

“I know.”

Addison frowns. “You know?”

“Gary and I…we…had an arrangement. He was seeing Olivia and I was spending some time with our neighbor P.J.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll put this in the kitchen,” Olivia says, walking away. Mrs. Freling walks with her.

“Fucking suburbs,” Dean lets out once the women are out of ear shot.

“So, she’s not a witch,” Castiel asks, looking between the trio.

“Just the best wife ever.”

“Then what killed her husband?”

“Who gives a fuck,” Dean excitedly mutters. He looks over at Addison with a smirk on his face.

Addison pats Dean’s arm. “Never happening.”

~*~

Addison and Sam look over the edge of the building. It was a long drop to the street below, where police officers and crime scene techs were taking care of the body. “This case is fucking weird,” she mutters to Sam. They walk back over to where Dean and Detective Glass were standing. “This looks like a suicide.”

“It was,” Detective Glass tells them. “Guy left a note. He invested everything in Roman Industries and lost it all when they crashed and burned.”

“So, why call us,” Dean questions.

“Because I have two witnesses who swear that Madoff here floated in mid-air for a good ten seconds, then he looked down, and splat. Not sure I buy that, but the way they were talking, it sounds something straight out of a—”

“Cartoon,” Dean finishes.

“Hey, detective,” a crime scene tech calls out.

Detective Glass shrugs. “You said you wanted weird.”

“Thanks.” Dean turns to Sam and Addison as Castiel joins them. “She’s right, you know. I mean, the whole heart jumping out of the guy’s chest, the - the - the delayed fall - that’s straight up Bugs Bunny.”

“So, we’re looking for some sort of insect-rabbit hybrid,” Castiel asks. “How do we kill it?”

“No, we don’t, Cas,” Sam amusedly tells him. “That’s a character, like, uh, like Woody Woodpecker or Daffy Duck.”

“They’re little animated movies. You know, uh, the coyote chases a roadrunner, and then the…” Dean laughs. “The anvil gets dropped on his head.”

Castiel frowns. “Is it supposed to be funny?”

Dean wipes the smile off his face. “No. It’s hilarious.”

~*~

Addison doesn’t look up from her MacBook as she lounges on a bed in their motel room. Castiel was sitting at the end of her bed, watching TV. Dean and Sam were at the small table. The angel turns off the TV. “I understand,” he says. “The bird represents God. And coyote is man, endlessly chasing the divine, yet never able to catch him. It’s…it’s hilarious.”

“I got no idea what we’re hunting,” Dean says, closing the book in front of him. Addison raises an eyebrow when Castiel grabs a toiletry bag out of one of the duffles. “Maybe it’s a Tulpa. Maybe it’s  some - some crazy god who watched too much Robot Chicken. I - I - I mean, is there a link between Heartbreak Hotel and Free Fallin’?”

Sam sighs. “Not that I can find.”

“All right, well, I’m gonna call it. Cas, you gonna book a room or what?”

“No, I’ll stay here,” Castiel replies.

Dean stares while the angel goes through his toiletry bag. “Oh, okay. Yeah. We’ll have a slumber party, braid Sam’s hair. Where are you gonna sleep?”

“I don’t sleep.”

“Okay, well, I need my four hours, so…”

“I’ll watch over you.”

“Not happening,” Addison tells him, closing her MacBook. She sets her laptop on the nightstand and walks into the bathroom. Dean had been right. She wasn’t sleeping well. Every time she went to sleep, she was woken up by nightmares of their time in Purgatory. Most of the time, she wasn’t able to sleep. Makeup hide the dark circles under her eyes. Coffee and energy drinks helped her stay alert. But only for a short amount of time. There’s a knock on the door, then it opens.

“Cas got wind of another cartoon like activity,” Dean tells her.

Addison nods. “Just give me a couple of minute and I’ll be ready to go.”

Dean shakes his head. “You’re staying here.”

“Dean, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Ads, get some rest. Or I’ll make Cas do that thing that will force you to sleep.”

Addison rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’ll stay here and try to get some rest.” Dean presses a kiss against her cheek and walks out of the room. She leans against the counter until she heard the motel door open and close. She runs a hand through her hair and walks out of the bathroom.

~*~

Dean runs a hand over his face and takes a swig of his beer. He was sitting at the small table in their motel room. Sam was still at the police station, going over the files of the other robberies while Dean and Castiel had gone back to the motel room to research. Addison was curled up in bed, asleep. “Your father,” Castiel says, flipping through John’s journal while sitting on the other bed. “He had beautiful handwriting.”

“How you feeling, Cas,” Dean questions the angel.

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I just…I - I - I know that when…I got puked out of Purgatory, it took me a few weeks to…find my sea legs.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy you’re back. I’m fucking thrilled. It’s just this whole mysterious resurrection thing - it always has one mother of a downside.”

Castiel closes the journal and looks at the hunter. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Maybe take a trip upstairs.”

“To Heaven?”

“Yeah, poke around, see if the God squad can’t tell us how you got out.”

“No.”

“Look, man, I hate those flying ass monkeys just as much as you do but—”

“Dean,” Castiel snaps. “I said no!”

A tense silence fills the room. Addison lets out a snore. Dean closes Addison’s MacBook. “Talk to me.”

“Dean…when I was…bad…and I had all those things…the leviathans writhing inside me…I caused a lot of suffering on Earth, but I devastated Heaven. I vaporized thousands of my own kind and I - I - I can’t go back.”

“Cause if you do, the angels will kill you.”

“Because if I see what Heaven’s become…what I…what I made of it…I’m afraid I might kill myself.”

Addison shoots up in the bed. Dean’s at her side in a matter of seconds. “I’m fine,” she says, hand pressed against her chest. 

Dean pulls her against his chest. He presses his lips against her forehead. “Giant spiders,” he asks.

Addison shoots him a soft smile. “The biggest.”

“Hey,” Sam says, entering the motel room. “Got something.”

“Good,” Castiel replies. “Excellent. What?”

“So, this black hole guy, before he tried the bank, he robbed a house across from the park where Gary blew a gasket.”

Dean runs a hand down Addison’s back. “So, uh, what, you think the house heist and Gary’s corpse are connected?”

Sam holds up a file. “According to the file, they happened at pretty much at the exact same time. Here. Check this out. Okay.” He spreads out a map with X’s on the bed. “Here’s the house and Gary died across the street here. And that building from this morning - right there. The black hole hit that too.”

Addison frowns. “That’s where the banker did his jump.”

“Yeah.”

“So, what are these other Xs?”

“Well, those are the places that stuff got stolen. But nobody got dead. Take away the graffiti and these all look like just normal smash and grabs. But I made a few phone calls, talked to some people who are nearby - neighbors and whatnot - and they reported a whole lot of crazy.”

“Like,” Dean questions.

“Like a jogger bumping his head and sprouting a four inch lump. Or a kid walking into a wall and hearing birdies. Basically for fifty yards around each robbery, people were living in a cartoon. But it didn’t last long. I mean, five, ten, minutes at each place,” Sam explain.

 “About the length of time it would take a thief to get in and out,” Castiel says.

“Exactly. But whenever power he’s using, it’s - it’s - it’s not targeted. I mean, it’s - it’s kind of like an area of effect. I mean, picture him in a - in a bubble of weird and anything that touches it gets daffy.”

“So, this Animaniac can step through walls, can toss an anvil,” Dean asks.

“Yeah, but he’s warping reality to do it. So if someone happens to be nearby meeting the girl of his dreams…”

“His heart leaps out of his chest,” Addison finishes.

Dean frowns. “Okay, so, smashing the rent a cop, that - that was on purpose, but the rest of them…what, is that just collateral weird?”

Sam shrugs. “Maybe.”

“So, we’re looking for a thief,” Castiel reasons.

“And the deposit box he was after. Now, the house, the office - every place he’s hit belonged to someone living at the Sunset Fields retirement home,” Sam finishes.

“So, you think out guy’s there,” Dean asks.

“Worth a shot.”

“All right. Well, let’s gear up. It’s wabbit season,” Dean says, standing up.

Castiel frowns. “I don’t think you pronounced that correctly.”

~*~

Addison follows the boys and Castiel into the day room of Sunset Fields Retirement Home. A man using a walker and wearing an oxygen mask walks past them. Dean presses himself against the wall. Addison rolls her eyes upon seeing the look on Dean’s face. “It’s not that bad,” she softly tells him.

“You can’t tell me this joint doesn’t give you the herbs and or jeebs,” Dean argues.

Addison smiles at him. “Hello,” a man wearing a suit says, walking up to them. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” Dean replies as they each pull out their FBI badges. “Agent Crosby. FBI.”

“Sorry, I’m Dr. Dwight Mahoney. I run Sunset Fields.”

“We need to question your residents,” Castiel tells him.

Dr. Mahoney frowns. “Well…why? About what?”

“Grand larceny, mostly,” Sam explains.

“Of course. Um, by all means, ask away. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Great,” Dean replies, looking around the room. Dr. Mahoney walks away. “All right, let’s do this. No flirting, you two.” He looks at Addison and quickly unbuttons another button on her shirt. She shoots him a disbelieving look. “You always get more info from folks when you look more slutty.” Addison narrows her gaze and buttons up her shirt. She pushes past him. Dean smirks, watching her walk away.

“Hey, you know, you should totally tell Ads about that thing,” Sam reminds.

Dean shrugs. “I’ll tell her when the time is right.”

A half hour later, Addison is examining a board with pictures of different residents. She glances to her right and finds a man with a tray of food in front of him. He was staring off into space. “You all done here,” an orderly asks. “All right.” The orderly notices Addison. “It’s creepy, right? A lot of these people…they just tune out and live in their own heads. It’s like the real world is too much for them and they just run and hide, you know?”

Addison nods. “Yeah,” she softly says. She wanted nothing more than to run and hide from the nightmares that were constantly plaguing her. She wanted nothing more than the ability to stare off into space and not feel like something was after her.

“Hey, what do you got,” Dean asks, walking up to her with Sam.

“Um, nothing. Uh, no hex bags, no EMF. You guys,” Sam replies.

“Nada. Half the folks I talked to don’t even remember being robbed.”

“Do you guys remember a man named Fred Jones,” Addison asks, looking between the brothers. “I think he was either a contact of my dad’s or John’s. He lived outside of Salt Lake.”

Dean smirks. “Yeah, that guy gave me my first beer. I don’t even think I was double digits.”

“Right, yeah,” Sam agrees. “Me too.”

Addison raises an eyebrow. “Well, that explains why my dad never left me alone with him. Anyway, he was psychic, right?”

“Psychokinetic. Why,” Dean asks.

Addison taps a photo. “He’s in room 114.”

“Cas,” Dean loudly whispers. They turn to see Castiel kneeling in front of an orange tabby cat. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve almost cracked him,” Castiel argues, staring at the cat.

“Now.”

Addison shakes her head and walks away, with the boys behind her. She easily finds room 114. She knocks on the door frame before entering. Fred was sitting in a wheelchair, watching cartoons. “Mr. Jones,” she softly says. She kneels down next to his chair. “It’s Addison Sloan. Do you remember me?”

“Fred,” Dean loudly asks. Fred doesn’t acknowledge them. He turns off the TV. “Fred! Hey!” Dean claps his hand, but Fred continues to stare up at the TV.

“So, you really think this one man is causing all these…shenanigans,” Castiel asks, looking between the hunters.

“Well, if he is, he’d be surrounded by a circle of crazy, right,” Dean replies. “Hang on.” He picks up a thick book from the dresser and smacks it against his forehead. A cartoon like noise is heard and birds chirping. Dean shakes his head, making an cartoon noise. “Bingo.”

Castiel frowns. “But how?”

“Fred’s got juice,” Sam explains. “I mean, an average psychokinetic can move things with hims mind, but a guy like Fred — you get hime worked up, he can reshape reality.”

“All right,” Dean says. “So, where’s his off switch?”

“I don’t even think he knows that we’re here,” Addison responds. 

“Do we…kill him,” Castiel asks.

“Excuse me, Agents.” The hunters and angel turn to see Dr. Mahoney standing in the doorway with an orderly. “Did he just threaten to murder one of my patients?”

~*~

Addison walks into the day room of Sunset Fields with Dean. They stare at the walls that were covered in cake. Some of the employees were wiping cake off of the residents. “Oh, you got my message,” Castiel says, walking up to them. Good.”

“What the hell happened,” Dean asks, looking around.

“There was a pastry mishap,” Castiel explains.

Addison nods. “Yeah, we can kinda see that.”

“The frosting reached near supersonic speeds. I thought—”

“Hey,” Sam interrupts Castiel, joining them. “Fred’s gone.”

“What?”

“Oh, fan-fucking-tastic,” Dean mutters. “Way to take your eye off the ball.”

One of the employees pushes a woman in a wheelchair. She stops and stares at the group. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Well, trust me, sweetheart, you got bigger fish.”

The elderly woman pulls off the oxygen mask. “Charles, she’s wearing my diamonds,” she says to Castiel.

The employee tries to push past the hunters, but is blocked. “Wait.”

“What? What’s wrong,” the employee asks.

Castiel grabs the woman’s arm to show them a diamond bracelet. “This is Mrs. Tate’s bracelet,” he says. “Where did you get it?”

“Answer the question,” Dean tells the employee.

The employee looks between them. “My boyfriend gave it to me.”

Addison nods. “And where can we find your boyfriend?”

~*~

Addison rubs her face as the Impala pulls to a stop outside of the bank. She had stayed behind while the boys went to talk to the orderly. She wanted nothing more than to just lay down and sleep for a full night without any nightmares. The boys had spent the drive catching her up on what she had missed while they were talking to the orderly. “All right,” Dean says as they climb out of the Impala. “Jones had got to be close. Ads and I’ll hit the bank. You see if you can find him.”

Addison follows Dean over to where a large black circle was drawn on the side of the building as Sam and Castiel walk down the street. “Do you think this is really gonna work,” she asks.

“Only one way to know.” Dean reaches his arm into the circle and pulls it out. He grins at Addison. “Awesome.”

“You first,” Addison tells him. She watches as he climbs through the circle. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Please don’t let me die.” She climbs through the circle and finds Dean standing on the other side with a grin. “Okay, that was pretty cool.”

“It was awesome. Come on.” Dean motions to the back of the bank. They walk to the back and find the safe wide open. Dr. Mahoney was empty the safe deposit boxes into a duffle bag on the table. Dean pulls out his gun and cocks it. “What’s up, Doc?”

“You let me walk and half of this is yours,” Mahoney tells them.

Dean glances at the bags. “I think I’m gonna pass. I’m not really into stealing from sweet old ladies.”

“I’m not stealing from them. I’m stealing from their children. Little bastards think they can drop their folks off at a home and visit twice a year, maybe. I took care of all these old geezers. I think I deserve—”

“Shut up,” Addison snaps. She had her own gun drawn and aimed at the doctor.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Dean starts to lower his gun. Mahoney flings papers at the two of them and shoves Dean into the wall. Addison takes off after him. She fires her gun, but a flag with the word ‘bang’ shoots out instead. “Welcome to the fun house.”

“Time to Roger Rabbit this shit,” Addison says, as Dean catches up to her. “You go after Mahoney. I’ll figure something out.” Addison takes off in a different direction. She reaches into her jacket and pulls out a large sharpie. She quickly draws an ‘X’ on the floor. She ducks out of the way as Dean and Mahoney reach her. Mahoney pulls out a frying pan from his jacket and hits Dean in the face with it. “Holy shit!”

“Give up,” Mahoney taunts. “I’ve been dealing with this crazy for months! And you, idiots, bring a gun to a gag fight.”

“That wasn’t the only thing we brought,” Addison replies, waving the marker at him. “X marks the spot.”

Mahoney dives out of the way just before an anvil hits the ground. He grabs the bag of stolen goods and runs towards the black hole. He runs into the wall and crashes to the floor.

“Looks like somebody turned off the boob tube,” Dean tells him.

“Good,” Mahoney says, pulling out his own gun. “Means I can use this.”

“No!” They turn to see Fred, Sam, and Castiel in the bank. “You are never going to hurt anyone again,” Fred angrily tells the doctor. Mahoney tries to stop from pointing the gun at his own head, but is unable to fight against Fred’s powers. He fires a single shot. The hunters flinch.

“Now that’s all, folks,” Dean mutters.

“My god,” Fred says, looking around the bank.

“Fred. You good,” Sam asks.

“Now I’m good. In a month, yeah…” Fred sighs. “Nobody gets sharper with age. I’m gonna lose control again and somebody’s gonna get hurt…again. You got to make it stop.”

“There might be a way,” Castiel says. “The procedure will be painful and…when it’s over, I’m not sure how much of you will be left.”

Fred takes a deep breath and looks at the angel. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

~*~

Addison closes her eyes. She buries her face in the pillow. They had left Castiel with Fred at the retirement home that morning. Fred was safe, happy trapped in his mind. They had checked into another motel in a different town. Sam had retreated to the bathroom, calling dibs on the first shower. She feels the bed dip down. Dean pulls her back against his chest. “I’m here,” he softly says. “I got a gun under my pillow. You’re gonna get a full night’s worth of sleep. No nightmares. You’re gonna dream about you and Scarlet Johansson at beach. Rubbing each down with the sun screen.”

“That sounds more like a dream you’d have,” Addison amusedly replies. She rolls over and tiredly smiles at him. She places a hand on his cheek, feeling the five o’clock shadow he kept. “I love you.”

Dean smiles. He softly kisses her. “I know.”

Addison presses into him. “One day you’ll actually say it.”

“Yeah. But I like sounding like Han Solo.”

[cherry3point14]

Mine: Ch4 - ME

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Little fluff, little angst, smut adjacent, violence. Word Count: 5,839. Chapter Summary: Dean finally had everything he wants. A/N: Choo choo. The crazy train has finally left the station.

Ao3 if you prefer

In the morning you’re there. You, backlit by the warm glow of the lamp we left on, fill my vision. You’re more than I thought I would ever get, you’re more than I deserve, and yet here you are. In my bed, with me.

It’s been six weeks since our first date and you’ve been more or less living with me for five weeks now. I’d be shocked at how easy it was but there must have been an upside to the whole post-Carl mourning thing. When I brought you back here, again, you already knew Sam and you’d greeted him like an old friend. You hadn’t scoffed at the windowless rooms or wrinkled your nose at the underground home I live in. You’d smiled. Your shoulders melted at the sound of the bunker door closing. I’m not sure you were even aware of it but you feel safe here and you like feeling safe.

In the beginning, you’d at least pretend you didn’t live here. You’d go home for days at a time and when you did that place felt a little less like home. I saw it. The house was colder, emptier. You moved about it robotically. It’s almost laughable leaving a place as big as the bunker and finding a one-bed townhouse too empty. I know why. It’s not the size of the rooms, it’s the way your voice echoes off the walls. I get it. I’ve understood you since our first date.

That night you’d told me the answers to as many of my questions as you could. You left New York when your mom got sick. At first, you’d never made friends in town because you crammed every second you had with her. I get it. I understand the greedy need to hoard time with a parent. It’s another one of those things we both share. But then she died six months ago. And in those six months, you’ve only made casual friends, the kind you knew their names and said hi to at the grocery store. Sometimes you’d go to dinner or book club but it’s all exterior bullshit. The people who know you almost as well as I do, the ones who you call because you miss them? They’re still in New York.

I hate that whenever you talk about New York it’s like you left a piece of you there. Makes me wanna get in my car and bring it back.

At least now I know the reason behind your choices. Why you ended up with Carl, why you suffered that dick at work. Hell, why you brighten up every time you skip down those stairs even if it’s just me and Sam here. You’re not just lonely like a bored housewife. You’re lonely to your bones. And you’d rather get your heart broken a hundred times than be alone.

I’m the cure, where your suffering all ends. I won’t take advantage of you Y/N, I won’t break you. I want you so I can look after you. I see who you are.

Now we’re here though. Two weeks ago I convinced you to really move in, which is fast, I get it. Sam can’t believe it and most of your stuff is in storage still, but it feels right. We feel right. Being together and having you here? I’m not worried anymore. I trust you because I trust us.

You sleep curled into me. On your side, your right side, snuggled against my chest with your legs tangled between mine. By morning you’ve moved but not far. Enough that your face is on the pillow next to me. With you in your spot, I get to enjoy watching your lips part and the slow, deep breaths you take. You’re perfect awake but in sleep you’re different somehow and I can’t take my eyes off you. Everything slows down watching you sleep.

Then, you stir. Sometimes it’s when I tuck stray pieces of hair behind your ears or sometimes it’s with the weight of my hand on your cheek. I can’t help touching you and I’ll never be sorry when you open your eyes, see me and smile dreamily.

“Mornin’” I love being the first thing you hear when you open your eyes.

Your smile gets wider and you untangle yourself to stretch your arms above your head, “do we have to get up today?”

Not the first time you’ve asked me that. Every time you do it gets harder to break your heart. Even superficially.

“’ Afraid so sweetheart,” you whine and I bring you back to me with a quick kiss to your lips. “But you haven’t got work till three so we don't have to get up right now.”

You smile against my mouth and lean into my touch. Your shoulder then neck, my fingers follow a blissful trail of your impossibly soft skin. Fuck, you’re too good. I'm convinced these mornings of ours are as close as I’ll ever get to heaven again. Last time I went it hadn’t agreed with me and now if I end up there when I finally bite the big one? Well, it won’t compare to this. Lazy mornings mapping every part of you. Sometimes the sex is slow and lazy and sometimes I bury myself in you till you scream. It’s always ours. It’s a bubble that only pops when the door opens.

Today is a playful middle. No brutal rush or lazy rock of my hips. Today is teasing, holding out as long as we can until fun becomes frantically chasing release. Then you’re begging me and I won’t let you go over the edge until you say it. Not until you answer my question, always the same one.

“Who do you belong to, baby?” My forehead pressed against yours and I've all but stilled against you. I’ll hold it all back until you tell me what I want to hear. No, not want. What I need to hear.

“You. Dean, please. I’m all yours.”

You might think it’s just sex. You might think it’s a possessive kink thing. I’ll let you think whatever you want because deep down we both know the truth. You can have everything you’ve ever wanted with me, as long as you’re mine. We're not slipping back into sleep so it’s barely a minute before you slip away from me. Although you never leave without a kiss and a promise. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower and then I’ll make you some breakfast.”

“You’re too good to me.”

You look at me like you're about to make the moment serious. As if you know all the things I’ve done for you and breakfast is just part of your debt.

But, you don’t know. And I’m not keeping track. I’d never keep score with you, there is no debt. I did what I had to but all that’s in the past. The present and the future is only you in my bed. Or you as you almost leave in nothing my shirt.

“I know I am. But you must have figured you signed up for this when you asked out a chef?”

I shrug against the pillows, I’d never really expected you to cook but you know know that.

“Nah, I figured there’d be more pie, to be honest.”

Your eyes flash and you pout playfully, “oh you asked for it, Winchester.”

“Hey dude,” Sam starts. There are only two ways this sentence is going to finish. Since it’s not my birthday I’m pretty sure we're not going to a strip club.

“I found us a case.” He finishes with that telltale smile. He needs a hobby. Or someone of his own. He gets bored too easily and he forgets that I have you. I get it but unfortunately, my face is already grimacing. “Come on dude. Two people dead in three days. Both of them with strange animal bites on their necks.” He even bends his fingers to air quote the word 'strange'. Loser.

“Vamps?” I don’t mean to sound so hopeful but bloodsuckers mean I won’t even be gone that long.

Sam looks back to his laptop as if the article he’s reading will actually say, vampires. “Looks like it.”

He sounds excited and hell, I wouldn’t mind a little mano e mano to blow off some steam. And a few days with Sam will do me some good. You’re the problem. As much as this is my life you are a new complication and it’s been the same story for the last six weeks. I can travel as far as I can but you’re still here. Pulling me back to you like a stretched out rubber band is connecting us. The drive back always feels like letting go, letting myself ping back to where you are. It’s dangerous to think about you while burning bones and gutting monsters. One day it'll get me in trouble.

Of course, it is easier now. Now I can call you, text you, and let myself grin at my phone when you reply. But still, leaving is the fucking worst.

“Pie number three is in the oven. I swear I’ll make you rue the day you accused me of not making enough pie… oh hey, Sam. You don’t mind if I kill him with pie, right?”

You bounce in with a plate in your hands which means number two finally cooled down enough that you’ll let me eat some. Sam looks up at you with a fond smile, “don’t you think he’s tried that himself over the years?”

“I don’t doubt he’s tried but I’ve got the moxie to really pull it off.”

I love that you and Sam are friendly like this. Maybe even on the way to being actual friends. You both accepted each other without argument. But I should put a stop to this particular conversation before you conspire long enough to put me on a diet.

“Ok, ok that’s enough. I don’t joke about your hopes and dreams.” The slice I take from your hands is cherry and you rock onto your toes while I take a bite. Only when the first mouthful makes me moan are you satisfied enough to relax.

“I hate to slow you down when you’re on a mission but we’re heading out on a case.” I deliver the bad news myself since I need you to like Sam.

You frown quickly. You try to catch yourself but it stills lingers on your face, “really?”

“’ Afraid so, sweetheart.”

“Well, since the next one is pecan will you at least take some for the road? If you don’t I’ll eat the whole thing and we don't all have your insatiable metabolism.” You whine a little from the chair next to me that you’ve slipped into. All the better to be closer before I leave.

“Pecan? I’ll take the whole thing.” You laugh into me so the sound vibrates my chest. Your hair is soft under my hand as I stroke it, still taking mouthfuls of pie with the other. “You sure you’ll be ok for a few days?”

“I’ll be fine. Go, save some people. I’ll still love you when you get back.”

You don’t seem to realize what you’ve said, or you don’t find it out of place. Maybe you’re not keeping track. But it’s the first time you’ve said that. So, naturally, I'm grinning like an idiot.

Sam waits the appropriate amount of time before he clears his throat, “I’m still right here guys.”

“And if you're lonely I know some nice girls I can set you up with.” You mumble without looking at him.

“I appreciate the offer.” He sasses back to you before fixing his eyes on me, “wheels up in thirty?”

“Make in an hour.” My girl just told me she loved me after all.

There’s a lot of clues I should have picked up on that something’s wrong when we get back. A half-eaten plate of food sitting on the table in the library, next to one of your books, is the biggest. It suggests you were mid-meal when you’d been distracted by something. This particular meal, still waiting for you with a fork left resting in it, is stone cold now. So, you’re not heading back from something at all. Wherever you are, you didn’t intend to be gone long.

I can’t help that I’m excited to see you after a two-day hunt that turned into three. Excited to see the recognition on your face when you see me, to know that you light up like that for me. I’m excited to see the girl who loves me. Excuse me for missing the goddamn clue.

Sam doesn’t question my long strides or fast pace. He knows I’m itching to see you. Especially since he’s sat in a car with me for the last six hours. He’d told me you were fine, safe in the bunker waiting for me but that hasn't stopped the nerves making me antsy.

So, each step is a little looser, calmer. My shoulders sink back into my body and I can feel the tightness of my face relax.

Because you’re behind that door Y/N. You’re waiting for me like you have done for six weeks. You’re waiting for me like I waited for you since day one.

Except I missed the clues so I’m not prepared for what’s actually behind the door.

You’re sitting in the bed and hunched over. Your legs are swung over the edge of the bed as if you fell in place from standing. Never realizing you’re uncomfortable twisted at the waist. I’m so blinded by the relief at seeing you again that I don’t notice what’s in your hands. Not at first.

I do see the tears. Red, puffy eyes and wet streaks on your cheeks. You lift your head to look at me with none of the bright light I've waited to be blinded by. It’s this confused mix of anger and sadness instead. That’s not how you’re supposed to look at me. Suddenly I want nothing more than to beat the crap out of whoever put that on your face.

“What happened?” I’m trying, fuck am I trying not to scare you. Although I can hear the growl in my voice and feel every muscle I have tighten in anticipation. I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone in the bunker. Even here isn’t safe enough for you.

You flinch away from my hand as I reach out for your shoulder. “Don’t touch me.”

And I don’t. I’ve never touched you without your permission. Yet without the distraction of you under my fingers I finally start to notice things. Like, say, the assortment of items strewn on the bed in front of you.

A hex bag. A wallet. A set of keys.

Or more precisely. The hex bag that could have saved your no good ex, the wallet of your sleazy boss and the house keys you lost five weeks ago.

I don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here. It could have been five minutes or five hours. At the very least it’s enough time for you have made some assumptions. They spill out of you without me saying another word.

“You looked after me when Carl… I know what he did but he didn’t deserve to that. But you-you looked after me. And when I came home and told you Steve was missing, that we’d all been interviewed by the police, you told me it was nothing. You said he’d probably skipped town. With-without his wallet? That you have?!”

“You don’t understand sweetheart, I…”

“I think for once I do understand. You’re a… god, you actually… you killed them and then lied to me about it.”

Angry I can fight with. Sad I can fix. But the betrayal in your voice? Damned if I know how to make that better.

You sway on your feet as you swing your body upwards in one swift, unstable action.

“Swee-” My hands are defensive and trying to stop your panic.

“Don’t you dare. I’m not your sweetheart. Never again. How can you think this will ever be ok?”

The click of the door as you open it stirs me out of my stupor. The dumb blindness that has me stuck standing and letting this play out clears. I don’t watch these things go by. And I won’t watch you leave.

You’ve left the door hanging open because you think walking out like this is an option. You think I love you enough that I’ll let you go.

It’s the exact opposite. I love you too much to ever let you go.

I catch up to you in a second and my hands have you in half of that. One hand over your mouth, because I know you’re a screamer, and a hand wrapped around your neck. I’d never squeeze enough to kill you Y/N I only need you to think I will. I need you to stop and realize that I’m doing this so we can work on this instead of giving up. We can’t give up.

“Honey, you’re gonna come with me and we’re gonna talk.”

I’m only trying to clasp my fingers tight enough to get you to cooperate and stop struggling against me. The fact that you collapse, unconscious in my arms, makes the whole thing easier.

Okay, maybe I hadn’t had your permission to do that.

There’s a room at the end of a random corridor. One of those places no one visits often, if ever, in the depths of the bunker. It’s a corridor littered with empty spaces, half-finished rooms, and useless closets. There’s a door that maybe was going to be a panic room or something. There are random pieces of comms equipment, an old leather sofa and walls thick enough to keep anything out. Or, keep anything in. It’s not soundproof but Sam won’t hear you from his room. I can barely hear you sitting outside the room. I’m waiting till you’ve stopped screaming for help before I go in and talk to you. I guess I didn’t figure it would take this long. The bottle of whiskey in my hands is getting emptier than I care to admit while I stare at the spot you’re standing in. Where you’re banging on the reinforced metal door and screaming. Out here it boils down to a soft thump and a quiet “help.” In there it’s furious, barely contained thunder. I get it. You’re mad. You don’t understand yet. But I’ve waited longer for less before. You’re still everything to me and I’ll wait till the end of time if I have to. I have all the time in the world. You’d passed out. It made me sick to my stomach to see you like that but it made it easier to get you here. To this room, this place, that not even my brother knows about. You gave me time. More than enough time to lock the door, go back to the library and clear up your plate. I dogeared the page in your book too because you hate losing your place, and tucked the thing in my back pocket. I hate it. Removing the trace of you like you don’t live here. Pretending you weren’t here to begin with. But I missed the clues before, that doesn’t mean Sam will miss them for a second time. At the very least it needs to look like you haven’t been here in a while. We need our time alone. Finally, it happens. Maybe I closed my eyes for a minute or maybe you gave up before I finished drinking. The ‘help’ that you’d screamed becomes something else. A pleading shout in there and whisper from out here, “Dean!?” I give it another minute. You should take a few more breaths now that you’re calm. You say it again, resigned, “Dean?!” Fuck, I still love it when you say that. I’m not, say, an idiot. I know that putting you in here, like this, is like trying to trap a storm in a box. A damn stupid idea. I took precautions, obviously. There’s a set of cuffs around your wrists. Not tight enough to pinch, never. But tight enough to keep your hands in front of you, for now, and make sure you’re not going to lash out when I open that door. Actually looking at you when I slip inside is worse than listening to you out there. I stand against the door so the illusion of escape isn’t tempting you to try anything. What I never expected was the way you slink away from me. Even if I'm across the room. Your eyes widen and you cower into the corner of the couch. Never taking your eyes off me, which means I don’t miss the way they swim with fear. “I’m not going to hurt you Y/N, I would never. Not really.” “How long Dean?” Your body, face, features might be scared of me but your voice is as hard as the metal at my back. “What?” “How long are you going to keep me locked up in here like a criminal? When you’re the one who.. how long?” I need to separate this version of you from the one who told me she loved me days ago. The only way I can manage that is by dragging my hand down my face, taking you out of my sight for a second. “This is temporary, we need time to talk. I had to stop you leaving.” Not letting an easy nickname slip from my mouth is a very conscious effort. I’ve already seen you flinch from me once today, I don’t need to see that shit again. “Temporary? We need to talk?” Each repetition sounds less like a question and more like bad news. You’re distracted enough by anger that you forget to be scared of me. You pick yourself up from the seat you’re in, shaking your wrists in midair. “I’m handcuffed. You put me in a choke hold Dean. You… you…” “I’m sorry. Please try to understand.” “Tell me you didn’t do it. Just tell me this is all some drunk nightmare and put me back in bed. Say the words.” You take another step, pleading through the metal on your wrists, “tell me you didn’t kill Carl. That you didn’t kill Steve.” The pause is long enough for you to figure out my answer. You know the answer already. “Technically the witch killed Carl.” A scream comes out of you, born in the depths of your soul, primal and painful. “Baby please, you gotta understand. I did it all for you. To protect you. Carl and Steve were bad news. You needed me to save you.” “SAVE ME? DOES THIS LOOK SAVED TO YOU, DEAN?” Your connected arms motion wildly to the red around your throat and shake the cuffs for extra effect. “Carl was a cheating assface but you know what most people do? They break up with the cheating assface not have them killed by fucking magic!” This is fine, it’ll be fine. You’re not calm yet. I tried to pull the band aid off too quickly. “You need some time. ’S fine. You’ll understand soon.” As my hand goes for the door your anger becomes fear. “No! Dean! Don’t leave me in here again. Please don’t leave me in here!” Closing that door on you, hearing the heavy lock followed by your dulled sobs, breaks my fucking heart.

The next few days are harsher than I could have imagined. You refuse to look at me, talk to me, or otherwise acknowledge my existence. The blanket I bring you to sleep with gets thrown off your shoulders whenever I come in. You know, in case I find out you’ve actually been using it to keep warm. You never rush for the food or drink I bring you, electing to wait till I’m good and gone before you admit defeat and eat.

You don’t get it Y/N, I'm trying to take care of you. I’m only trying to give you the time to get your head around this. God, I wanted to give you all the time you need but now my patience is starting to wear thin.

I’ve been sitting in the room on a wooden chair, leaning against the door for an hour now. The trick is to have a book to read but yours is in my back pocket again, all I need to do is wait out your boredom.

There’s this big exasperated sigh from your direction before you say anything. “Have I behaved enough to get these off yet?”

You’re holding up your wrists, which I can see are red and angry underneath the cold metal still tugging at them. “Shit, yeah.” I prepare myself for the flinch again. It’s a pleasant surprise when I make contact with your skin and you don’t move an inch. It’s not the same as when you’d lean into my touch, not yet anyway, but this is still good. We really can get there again, together.

“Thanks.” You’re tight-lipped and the word is clipped. It’s still progress. It’s still you talking to me more than you had.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” I try my luck, your icy reception to the nickname is better than it had been. “I didn’t mean to leave you in them so long, was waiting till you calmed down.” The cuffs get thrown on the desk across the room hoping that I can finally start showing you the way back to me.

You choke out a harsh laugh, “yeah, I’m the one with the problem. My boyfriend murdered two people and almost choked me to death. Sure, I overreacted.”

“But see you still called me your boyfriend.” I try my hand at being playful and I swear the corner of your mouth twitches.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m going crazy in here?” I know you inside and out so I know that you’re joking. Not only are you made of stronger stuff than that but the raised eyebrow says it too.

“Maybe I’ll bring you something to-” the end of my sentence gets lost in the blur that moves in front of me. You’re up, across the room fumbling with the handle of the door and pulling it open. My hand pushes the door closed again before you can get out into the corridor, “why’d you have to go and do that?”

You lean forward, defeated again. Your forehead rests against the cold metal that’s still held closed by my weight. “Because I don’t think you plan on letting me out of here Dean.”

“Of course I am. I still want a life together. I love you. That’s why I won’t put the cuffs back on.”

“You’re cooking? What did Y/N fall and hit her head?” I know Sam means it as a joke but he’s doesn’t understand that it’s too soon for jokes. I can’t laugh this off while you’re still locked in the depths of the bunker and we haven’t laughed together again yet. I’d love nothing more than for you to be here cooking with a smile on your face but you’re not ready to come out yet.

“Y/N’s not here.” I'm sick to my stomach lying about you. I wish I didn’t have to. Wishing is for suckers though.

Sam has one of his goddamn green smoothies in his hands, cold from the fridge, the sight of it makes me frown. It mirrors the frown on his face at you being gone. “Oh is she at work? She didn’t say she was working today.”

Days ago I’d have been feeling warm fuzzies that he cares this much about you, that he knows your schedule. I’d have been happy that the two most important people in my life are becoming important to each other. Now his questions are roadblocks. My throat itches with the lies I’m about to tell. “Actually, she went home for a while.”

“I thought she was moving in?”

“Yeah, well, she still had a few more weeks on her lease and we had a fight about some dumb shit. She’s cooling off.” Not a whole lie. In fact, none of it is really a lie. You do have a few weeks left on the house but I never said that’s where you are. We did have a fight, you are cooling off. Sam is going to piece the rest together from the way I’m staring into this pan of bacon like a sad sack of shit.

He wants to say he told me so, probably. He’s the one who asked us if we were moving too fast.

That’s not what comes out of his mouth. He lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes to let me know he’s there, “I’m sorry. I know you and Y/N were happy but I’m sure she’ll come back. She really seems like she loves you.”

I must look pathetic if Sam has gone straight to talking me down from the ledge. Despite myself, despite trying to contain myself, I can’t help the way I turn my head to him, “really? You think she loves me?”

Oh god, I am pathetic. Only for you Y/N.

“Are you kidding me? I thought you had a crush and then I saw the way she looks at you.” It’s innocuous in how casual he is. Sam sees it that easily. Black and white. While I’m standing here with a slither of a doubt, that maybe you’re not the one, he reminds me that you’re the only one. He reminds me of something I’ve forgotten after days of keeping you locked up. We're meant to be.

You love me Y/N. Not because your life has got so much better since I was in it. Not because I treat you like you always hoped you’d be treated. You love me because you see me. And you’ve seen me at my worst now, that version of myself I justified being to protect you. The guy who put hands on you, albeit temporarily, to stop you from hurting yourself.

Running would have hurt you. And by keeping you here instead you’ve seen all of me. Your hero, your boyfriend and now, your protector. You loved me before and if you still love me it’s only a matter of time till we’re fixed.

Sam smiles encouragingly. The one he saves for people who are freaking out while they explain the impossible thing they saw. He even looks down at the bacon in the pan like he’s happy that I’m happy, which is never how Sam looks at bacon. The food is for you but he can’t know that.

He stops as he’s halfway out the room. “Hey, I was going to head out for a few hours this afternoon, catch a movie, you wanna come?”

“Nah, Sammy. I’m good.” An afternoon where I won’t have to explain my disappearing act to Sam.

Sam’s been gone a few hours already and other than some time when I brought you lunch I’ve left you alone so far. I gave you your book and watched your face light up like it used to when you saw me. It’s a start so I didn't push anything. Left you alone to read. Slow and steady wins the race.

Now my brother will be home soon. I want to see you again before I have to eat dinner with him and pretend everything is above board. I need my fix.

Here’s the thing that I’m not expecting. The smile on your face when I walk in. It's half convincing me that I hit my head on the hunt and everything since has been a nightmare.

“Dean! Finally, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your reception is everything I've been waiting for too. You’ve been in here almost five days now and the progress has been too slow. I was starting to worry that no matter how much I loved you maybe too much of you had been chipped away and yet, here you are. Dog-earing the page of your book and standing up to meet me. You’re shaking a little, rattled with nerves but there’s a smile on your face that tells me not to worry.

“I've been thinking and I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” I’m still being careful about touching you. Your hands are trembling by your sides like you’re worried about the same thing.

You take in this big breath, “I- I think I get it now. I was hurt before, about you lying to me, and I was shocked. But then I'm sitting here eating the food you brought me and reading my book that you’d saved my place in, and something clicked. I was scared you know? Not because of what you did but scared because honestly, you’re the first person who has ever loved me this much. You take care of me, you’ve always taken care of me. And I was afraid to let you do that because maybe I didn't believe I deserved you. It's weird to say considering everything but you're actually good for me."

I close the gap between us with a step and raise my hand to cup your cheek. You lean into my touch like it’s home. “But I pulled some shit. I killed people in your name. You’ve gotta hate me?”

I’m giving you an out Y/N. This one out.

“I don’t know if it’s possible to hate you. How could I hate someone who wants to look after me like you do? Dean, I love you.” You say it softly, a whisper, a secret. Through lips that are parting for me.

Leaning down to kiss you is everything I’ve wanted to do since I got back from that hunt. This once, I let myself have what I want. My other hand comes up to hold you so I've got your whole face in my hands while I taste you again. Your lips are as soft and inviting as I remember. Your tongue is eager and this kiss? This kiss couldn’t lie. This is how I know you’re still mine. You're my perfect fit.

And then metal closes around my wrists. You’re quick and you snap the cuffs until they hurt. I didn't know you were this good a fucking actress Y/N with your mouth still pressed against mine as you trap me in.

“What the fuck? Baby?” I splutter as I stumble a little, not far back enough. In the next moment, you raise a knee to my balls and holy fuck, there's so much anger behind it. You want to cause me pain. I can suffer it from evil sons of bitches trying to kill me but you?

“You’re a monster, Dean.” You bitterly spit in my direction as I sink to my knees. “Jesus, how I could I ever love you?”

That’s the last thing I hear before a wooden drawer is smashed over my head.

Continue to Epilogue

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278​ @bloodydaydreamer​

[1987vampire]

Confessions

Fandom: Supernatural Relationship: Samandriel x Female!Reader Word Count: 3,651 Warnings: angst, fighting, scars, almost dead, sex, unprotected sex, biting, hickies, thigh riding kinda, wings, probably other things idk Request: There’s not enough Samandriel. A/N: My plans are all over the place for this weekend right now. Extra: Wanna buy me a coffee?

This is trash but whatever. enjoy.

The day I met Samandriel was a terrifying day. The entire month had been one incident after another with Dean returning from purgatory, an auction from the angel tablet, Kevin Tran seeming to always be in perilous danger, and way too many weird cases to count.

Soon, Castiel appeared. Normally, I would be okay with it, but he had seemed off lately. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but I could tell that Sam felt the same way. He was acting strange and disappearing more often than not. Sometimes, he would blank out for a few seconds, but he never told us what had happened. It was just weird.

When he showed up, he told us about an angel that was locked up and being tortured by Crowley. Usually, I wouldn’t care too much for angels – seeing as they were all jerks – but the way Castiel freaked out about him had me worried.

Sam, Dean, and I piled into the Impala quickly and made our way to the warehouse only to discover the sigils covering the outside, completely blocking Castiel from getting inside. A few minutes later, a lot of screaming, and more bloodshed than I wanted to see, I was dragging out an almost dead Samandriel with Castiel close behind.

His breathing was shallow, and I was terrified he was going to die. He was stumbling and shaking fiercely, looking even more scared than when he was strapped to the chair. He was yelling things, talking about how he needed to be hidden, how he couldn’t be seen back in heaven. He was frantic as he spoke about what he had spilled, information he didn’t know he had, secrets that covered the angel world.

I was helping him sit by the car when I heard the familiar sound of a blade unsheathing.

I watched with shocked eyes and Castiel slowly slid a blade from his sleeve, not a hint of recognition of what he was doing shone in his eyes. Castiel was in a daze as he pushed his arm forward to stab Samandriel, but I moved in front of him swiftly, taking the blade for the angel.

I coughed loudly as I felt the stinging of the blade running into my stomach. Blood poured from the wound and some dribbled from my mouth slowly. I looked up at Castiel with shocked but half-closed eyes.

“What are you doing, Castiel,” I whispered, breathing slowly and shallowly, taking in what I could.

He seemed to be knocked out of the daze when he looked down at me, and he was quick to help me sit down, pulling the blade from me and covering my wound with one of the bandages we kept in the backseat of the car for missions like this. Castiel was shaking as well, apparently battling something in his head as his eyes flashed from focused to disconnected as he wrapped my stomach quickly.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I – I don’t know what came over me. I promise to heal you as soon as I get my grace back to full strength. The wards took away my strength. I’m so sorry.” Castiel was shaking, battling something, his body shaking lightly as the sound of Sam and Dean running up caught our attention.

“What the hell happened,” Dean questioned, his eyes wide as he noticed the state we were in.

Castiel turned to me and got ready to speak, but I cut him off. “There were some demons out here, and I got stabbed protecting Samandriel,” I stated clearly, lying for Castiel’s sake. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew he couldn’t control it, and I would do whatever I could to help him.

A few hours later and I was healed and sitting beside a passed out Samandriel, reading a book about angels. He had been healing rapidly, and I had placed sigils around the room to block any angels, demons, and supernatural creatures.

Though Castiel was a good friend of mine, I didn’t trust him after the stunt he pulled a little bit ago. I was researching for him at the moment, flipping through various books filled with information from past hunters and such. I could hear Sam and Dean talking furiously in the next room over. The thin walls of the motel didn’t hide much.

I bent down to pick up another book, finding the last completely useless, when I heard a low groan. I looked up quickly and locked eyes with the bright-eyed angel. He was rubbing his face softly, running his hands over the dried blood I wasn’t able to clean off.

I pushed away the book in front of me and stood up from the small chair in the corner of the room. I made my way to the bedside table and handed him a small glass of water. He picked it up gingerly, looking confused as to what to do.

I ran my over the back of my neck with a sheepish grin. “I don’t really know if you drink anything, but I know that after waking up from a hunt, I could always use some water. I mean, it wasn’t a hunt for you, but – I don��t know – I’m sorry. I could just take it back.”

I rambled on, my cheeks getting brighter and brighter, but Samandriel just shook his head and smiled, calming me down with a simple “It’s okay. Thank you for your help.” He took the glass and drank slowly, getting used to the foreign feeling.

I smiled brightly at him and took the glass when he was done, placing it back down before pulling up a chair to him.

“So, can you tell me what happened? I know it’s definitely a sensitive topic, but you told me there was something about controlling angels, and I really need help with Castiel right now.”

From there, our conversation delved into what he had found out and what needed to happen. He told me about Crowley and what he knew now, what they had to do to stop him from using that information. It was a jumble of words, but I couldn’t be more thankful for him talking to me.

From then on, we became close friends after he talked to me about how I jumped in front of the blade. He was so thankful, but I couldn’t be more thankful for him. Through the entire next month, the world was spiraling around us, but I knew that I had my angel by me. He protected me, and I protected him.

Day after day was spent researching, and though he was an angel, he often stayed with me to help with research while the boys went out. I found their life stressful beyond belief, and I may join them sometimes, but I preferred to stay out home. When demons and angels joined the hunting life, I didn’t want to do it. I got hurt easier, and they found my weak spots quickly.

The day I ended up in the hospital almost dead with broken ribs that barely missed my heart along with a broken arm and leg, fractured nose, and so much more, was the day that I decided to stay home. I was safer and possibly more useful. The boys didn’t have as much time to research while out, but I could talk to them easily.

When we found the bunker, I was more than excited to search through the vast expanse of books, finding comfort in the homey feeling of the thick pages and warm fire as I sat on the expensive leather couches. I loved it.

Samandriel was often found sitting next to me, laid out across the open area with his head on my lap. Dean often made fun of the position, but he was comfortable and so was I so we didn’t care. My hands would run through Samandriel’s hair as I read happily, the crackling fire and soft breathing of the two of us were the only things that filled the room.

That was where we were at the moment. I was curled up slightly while Samandriel hummed lightly, drawing patterns onto my knee. My hands pushed lazily through his hair, and I couldn’t help the small smile adorning my face.

I will admit, I had feelings for Samandriel for the longest time. It was something that had built over a long period of time, but I refused to tell him. What would this angel like about me? I kept the secret to myself, but I think the blushes that covered my face and small stuttering habits I had around him whenever something he did sent me up in a bumbling mess of love for him.

Moments like these were the only moments where I could just hold him and enjoy him being with me. I looked down as Samandriel shifted anxiously. I raised an eyebrow while he sat up, groaning in discomfort.

“What’s wrong,” I questioned, closing my book so I could turn to him.

His eyes shifted downward toward his hands, and he bit his lip awkwardly. He seemed to be at a loss for words as he fiddled with his fingers. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You know you can tell me anything.” I grabbed his hand, but he swiftly pulled it away from my grasp. My eyes widened at the swift action.

He breathed deeply before he looked at me through his lashes. “I need to get this off my chest. I-I’ve been feeling things recently, feelings I didn’t know I could feel. I was confused, trust me I was, but I asked Dean about it and then Castiel. They told me things, and I can’t live with it on my chest.”

“Samandriel,” I mumbled, rubbing his hand softly, “you can tell me.” I tried to soothe him.

“I’m in love with you, y/n,” he rambled out loudly. He was staring down, looking absolutely terrified at what my response would be.

“Samandriel, I-“ My voice was apprehensive, but Samandriel cut me off, shaking his head from side to side.

“I knew you wouldn’t feel the same way,” he muttered before disappearing with only the loud sound of fluttering wings left in his spot.

I stared where he had sat with wide eyes and parted lips. He liked me back? He actually liked me back? He loved me?

The sound was so foreign to my ears, and I couldn’t help the soft gasp that left my lips. I slowly lifted my hand and stared where he had held mine.

“Samandriel,” I whispered, closing my eyes in a prayer, “Samandriel, come back. You didn’t let me speak.” I paused for a second, listening intently, but the sound of him returning didn’t meet my ears. I sighed lowly and spoke again. “I love you, too, Samandriel. I really do, but I didn’t think you liked me back. I didn’t think there would ever be any reason for you to like me. I truly thought you thought of me as a sister, and I was okay with that because that’s what you wanted.”

I bit my lip and clenched my eyes, remembering the nights I had cried because of my heart for him. I took a deep breath before I heard the sound of wings again. I opened my eyes slowly and looked forward to see Samandriel only a few inches from my face.

“Are you telling the truth or is this just a lie,” Samandriel questioned, his eyes watering with tears. “I don’t think I could live with a lie like that, y/n. Please don’t say you love me if you don’t mean it.”

I nodded and smiled slightly, looking at him with hooded eyes. “I love you, Samandriel. I have for so, so long.”

Samandriel dived forward right as I finished the sentence, connecting our lips happily. It was sloppy but sweet, neither of us fully understanding what to do. My hands wrapped around his neck while he pushed me down onto the couch, the leather settling with us easily.

Samandriel gripped my hips tightly and rolled his hips forward slowly. I whined against him, feeling myself grow aroused. I had waited for something like this for so long.

Our lips moved slowly, and I couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped me along with the groans in response from him. I pulled back slowly, biting his lip in the process. My hands ran back to his back, digging into his shoulder blades as his hips snapped forward again.

“Samandriel, please,” I moaned into him, my lips close to his cheek, my eyes blown with lust and love as I stared up at him. He was breathing slowly, sweat gathering along his hairline as the fire seemed to roar beside us. The leather of the couch didn’t help.

Samandriel stared down at me with soft eyes. “Are you sure you want this, y/n? I don’t want to pressure you into anything. I really don’t.”

I smiled at the apprehensiveness in his voice, the caution lacing it slightly. “Of course, I’m sure. I don’t think anything has ever seemed more right.”

“I feel the same way,” Samandriel grinned, bending down to place a slow kiss on my lips. I responded slowly, enjoying the moment.

His hands ran to the hem of my shirt, toying with it cautiously. He pulled back, studying my face for anything that made it seem like I didn’t want what was about to happen. I made no movement of the sort. I wanted this.

I smiled at him soothingly, and he slowly pulled my shirt over my head, the soft fabric dragging against my skin teasingly making me shiver.

I bit my lip shyly as his eyes roamed over the new skin. Battle scars littered the surface, making me self-conscious, but he didn’t care. His hands trailed over the faded and poking out scars. Hunts were the worst on a human body.

He looked me in the eyes before he bent down, pressing a kiss to my lips, my cheek, my jaw, my neck, and he moved down. He pressed his lips in between my breast before moving down the scars right under them. They were knife wounds from a vampire case a few years ago. I ended up captured and tortured for answers on where the others were. I refused to give the answers to them.

He moved to the on the side of my stomach. It was from a demon case where I was thrown into a mirror. Glass was stuck in my side, and I lost so much blood that I almost died.

He moved to the long mark coming from my thigh to the middle of my stomach, something I didn’t remember getting. I lost my memory from the accident.

Plenty of scars littered the expanse of my body, but he didn’t care. He pressed a kiss to each and every one of them, muttering a quiet “beautiful” after each one. He moved back up until he was face to face with me, his cool breath fanning over me.

I smiled as he pressed his lips to my nose. “I can feel how wary you are, and I want you to know that you’re absolutely beautiful, with scars or without.”

I smiled against him and thanked him happily. I pressed my lips to his cheek before I moved my hands to take off his shirt. I was quicker than he was, but I was still slow. His chest wasn’t soft, but he wasn’t built. He was lean with soft ab lines.

He grabbed silently pushed his hands behind me before unclasping my bra and pulling it from me, throwing it towards the end of the room. He quickly moved down and grabbed one breast while wrapping his lips around the other’s nipple. I moaned loudly at the feeling and gripped his hair tightly, arching my back to get him closer. He grinned against me before switching places, his mouth on my other with his hands kneading the other.

I sighed in ecstasy and fell back as he moved away from my body only to go back down, dragging his tongue down my stomach. His hands went to the hem of my jeans and pulled them down with my panties quickly, leaving me bare to him. I let out a heavy breath and squirmed under him as he silently pressed his jean-clad thigh to my heat. The feeling left me breathless.

I moved back and forth across the fabric slowly, rocking my hips as Samandriel watched me with parted lips. I could tell he enjoyed the look on my face, half-lidded eyes with my mouth wide open. He moved his thigh with my thrusts, and he leaned down to whisper in my ear.

“You look so fucking beautiful pressed up against me like that.” I moaned at the dirty language coming from him. “I can’t believe I got to have you like this – all to myself. Are you all mine, princess?”

“All yours,” I moaned against him, bucking my hips sharply. He groaned at the feeling and moved his hand to press against my clit, moving around it for a few seconds before pressing down lightly, watching me arch my back in pleasure at the added intensity. “Samandriel, please,” I whined against him, pressing my lips to his neck ferociously.

He hummed lightly and moved his thigh away before pressing it back again. “What do you want, baby?”

“I want you inside me,” I moaned out, feeling my walls clench from being empty. He grinned and pressed against me harder.

“Are you sure, baby?”

I groaned and nodded. “I’m sure.”

He pressed his lips against mine again. It seemed to be what he did when he was nervous. I moved my hands to his jeans, fiddling with the button before unbuttoning it. I pushed on it, signaling for him to take them off.

He shimmied them off quickly and his length pressed against my stomach. He groaned at the feeling and his hips snapped without him meaning to. I moaned as he moved back and poked at my entrance softly, lubing himself with my slick. I ran my hands up and down his shoulders soothingly.

He looked down at me softly before pushing himself in slowly, letting me adjust to his length while he moaned lowly. He filled me entirely, and I groaned loudly at the feeling. I nodded for him to go and arched my back as he moved back only to push in again.

He began slow, teasing both of us, but he soon sped up, his hips snapping against mine quickly. The fire warmed the two of us up to where we were both sweating while the only sounds that filled the room were the noises of the flames, hips smacking, and the wet sound of us kissing.

I pulled away from his mouth and moved my head down so I could get his neck, biting and kissing softly, leaving marks along the expanse of his shoulders. He snapped into me roughly while what seemed like a growl left his lips. His hips pushed harder and harder, dragging against that sweet spot I loved.

I moaned against him and clenched around him, pulling him towards his release. My breathing was quick as he bit down harshly on my neck, leaving a mark. He sucked marks onto my neck before dragging his tongue across the marks happily.

My breath caught in my throat as I writhed under him, holding off a release that was so close. He pulled up from my neck to meet my eyes.

“Cum for me, y/n. Let yourself go.” I gasped loudly and dug my nails into his back before cumming, clenching around him tightly, trying to get him to release.

It was a few seconds after me that he came with a scream, shaking furiously as his hips faltered. A bright white light filled the room, and I had to shut my eyes quickly. When it seemed to have gone down, I opened them slowly and was met with a beautiful sight.

Samandriel was laid above me, his head fallen while his eyes were closed shut, his breathing unsteady. Behind him was a large set of light brown speckled wings. I gasped and reached out slowly to touch them.

My fingers barely grazed one of his wings when they shot back, moving from my grasp. He sat up, shocked, pulling out of me. I stared at him with wide eyes.

“I- I’m sorry. Was I not supposed to do that.”

Samandriel stared at me surprised and slowly moved forward to cup my face. “You can see them?”

I nodded slowly. “Was I not supposed to?”

“I-“ Samandriel seemed to be battling himself. “My wings were let out because of how vulnerable I was, but you shouldn’t be able to see them. It’s impossible for a human to see them at any point, unless-“

“Unless I was your soulmate,” I finished for him, shocked. I had read it somewhere, but I didn’t think it could be true. I had seen the silhouette of them before a few times when he showed up, but I never thought much of it. I looked up at him slowly. I reached my hand out toward the wings. “Can I – can I touch them,” I asked, trying not to be rude.

He nodded slowly, and his wings moved forward so I could reach them easily. I deliberately reached forward and burrowed my hands into the cluster of his wings. He moaned lowly and dropped his head to my shoulder. I stroked his wings slowly, taking my time.

He smiled against my skin and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I love you so much, y/n.” He nipped at my skin.

“I love you, too, Samandriel,” I whispered as he seemed to fall into a blissful state while my hands ran through his wings. “I love you, too.”

[awed-frog]

You said in your s13 meta that the narrative suffers from keeping Destiel in the subtext. Can you elaborate a bit on that? For example, would you have them enter a romantic relationship now (or in earlier seasons) or would you be okay with it only happening towards the end of the show as long as it gets shoved more into 'text' level along the way - however that would look? How would you personally go about it in a way that fits into the narrative of the show?

Well - I think there are a bunch of reasons why keeping Destiel in the subtext is hurting the show (narratively). Off the top of my head -

1) This kind of subtext - ie, scattered clues that can be as obscure as beer labels or paintings on the walls - is usually reserved for Big, Shocking Revelations - for instance, the identity of the murderer in a thriller. I can’t think of one single example in which the subtextual clues led to a ‘Guess what - she actually luuuuurves him!’, and there’s good reason for that - a romantic attraction is not interesting enough to leave the audience to guess it and half perceive it out of the corner of their eyes. A hidden subtext should be the kind of thing where you gasp and stare when it’s revealed and then you go back and rewatch the whole thing in disbelief (also annoyance, because part of you is not surprised by this at all, but you never listened to that part ‘cause your a gullible fool). For younger readers, the revelations about Snape in HP fit this model well; for older viewers, a good example is the ending of The Others or Fight Club. Romantically speaking, the only close equivalent to what Supernatural is doing goes something along the lines of sexual awakening - a beautiful example is Tracy Chevalier’s Girl with a Pearl Earring, in which it’s very clear for an adult reader that Griet is attracted to Vermeer from the very first moment she sees him, and yet the UST builds and builds because Griet herself is too young and inexperienced to see it - and when she finally realizes it, holy shit. Even in that case, though, the romance wasn’t exactly subtextual - every single adult around Griet wondered at it - her mother warned her to stay away from Vermeer, Vermeer’s wife was openly jealous from the second Griet started working for their household, the other servants were also suspicious of why Griet was spending so much time alone with Vermeer and so on and so forth. The tension came from the fact Griet herself didn’t understand what was going on - not from the thing being completely subtextual. So, to me, the fact Supernatural thinks a (gay) love story needs to be put in the subtext - it’s more than offensive - it’s just not effective.

2) Destiel is destroying Sam’s characterization, because they increasingly use him to contrast Dean’s feelings, which means Sam is mostly forced not to care about Cas at all. And so, while the two of them had some stolen moments where they were allowed to be themselves (ie, people who like each other and feel a deep affection for each other), Sam is often shown to be cold and unconcerned whenever Cas is mentioned. When Dean was fretting about Cas being possessed by Lucifer, for instance, Sam always acted like he couldn’t care less - which was annoying, not only on Cas’ behalf, but also because Sam knows what Lucifer is like, and he would never be so indifferent about Lucifer possessing anyone. Or when Cas was suffering from PTSD and would spend his days watching dog videos, again we had Dean (rightly, rationally) worried about him, while Sam brushed it off completely. Also the ‘it-gate’, remember that? And now, now Cas is actually dead, and this is still going on - Dean is very nearly broken, and Sam - Sam is fine with it. Doesn’t give a damn. And the thing is, if Dean’s love was out in the open, then they could let Sam care about Cas, because it would be textual that there’s still a difference there (Dean = lover, Sam = friend); but since that is not textual, this is what we’re left with - a join the dots game where they want us to wonder why Dean cares so much when Sam, the rational one, doesn’t care at all.

Moreover, the fact there are these huge subtextual secrets about Dean (that he’s bi, that he loves Cas) only makes him more interesting to write, while leaving nothing for Sam to do. It could even be argued that this is the true reversal of the Supernatual narrative - the first five seasons were about Sam and how he felt like a freak because of his Big Secret (which was textual: his psychic powers, and, later, his addiction to demon blood), while the next five seasons were about Dean and his Big Secret (and that only half worked, because everything is still subtextual, which means Dean’s narrative has not resolved in any neat, elegant way - nothing comparable to Swan Song - which also means the story is still about Dean, that it will be about Dean until the narrative knot is gone, and they seem adamant never to go there, so where does this leave us?).

3) Ironically enough, Destiel is also hurting Dean and Cas as characters. Cas, in particular, had an arc that was all about destroying his identity in earlier seasons (the break with Heaven and so on), and lately that’s shifted to building himself a new identity - his increasingly human feelings have been a big part of that, and to be fair, they did allow him to explore them - a journey that probably started with his rejection of Hannah and culminated in that infamous I love you - but this could have been done much better, and in a more coherent way, if Cas had been allowed to find Dean attractive as a potential romantic partner. And in a way, the same goes for Dean - we teetered on the edge of why things are different with Cas so many times, and they came closest, perhaps, in S8, but as long as they refuse to take that final step, it’s not clear, exactly, why Dean should care so much about Cas - about someone who’s far from perfect, and has betrayed them or let them down or hurt them many times in the past. And something else that only made sense if you squinted, of course, was Dean’s peculiar, sometimes volatile relationship with Crowley, and how his attitude to Crowley differed from Sam’s. I’ve seen people confused about that, but if you fill in the subtextual blanks - ie, Crowley loved Dean (as much as demons can love, that is), and they were actually together when Dean was a demon, and then had an awkward break-up when Crowley realized Dean could not love anyone as a demon, and would never love Crowley as a human - well - that’s suddenly a coherent narrative, isn’t it?

4) And finally, Supernatural is often built on parallels and mirrors, and the problem is, you need an equilibrium for that. If half your metaphor is out in the open, and the other half is subtextual, it just doesn’t work. That was one of the big problems with both S10 and S11 - remember the whole Colette story, which went nowhere? And how Amara represented the wrong way to love, contrasted with the right way, which was…what? And, sure, for some viewers that may work just fine, and others may even enjoy to be left guessing, but me - I like my symmetry, and I like honesty, and I found it profoundly frustrating that both those stories were left unfinished.

As to what I would do differently - I don’t particularly like fluff, and I don’t think either Cas or Dean are ready for a relationship right now, so I guess - what I would change is that I would make this thing between them textual but not to each other? There are many ways to do that - romantic movies basically live off them - character A talks to her friends or parents, has a revealing dream, thinks out loud, writes in a journal, does something incredibly stupid which makes it clear they’re madly in love - we’re spoiled for choice. The how and what, of course, depends on the world around your characters, and the specific challenges they face, which is why my way of bringing Dean and Cas together varies with the story I’m telling. In one fic, it’s Dean who comes forward and downright invites Cas to stay the night; in another, it’s Cas who demands that Dean comes clean about his feelings; in yet another one, Dean acknowledges those feelings, but says he can’t act on them because of Imminent Death and whatever else; and in the one I’m writing right now, my AU!S13, well - you’ll have to wait and see. For the show itself, I like a suggestion that’s been surfing through tumblr for a while - an episode featuring some ex of Dean’s (a man) so that Sam will be forced to put the pieces together, and next, some kind of conversation about Cas, and how Dean doesn’t feel worthy or ready or something. Sam shouldn’t play matchmaker (I know we like that in fanfiction, but I doubt that canon!Sam has either the skill or the inclination to do that), but knowing this very private thing about his brother - well - that can only be healthy, for both of them. And when it finally comes out (with Cas), I think it should be in anger, because that’s who Dean is - someone who blurts out things he never meant to say when he’s terrified and furious and worried out of his mind - and next, I’d have them separated, of course, because UST is a good thing and yay and keep it up. 

(Oh, and as for what I would be okay with - every single romantic relationship on Supernatural has been about falling into bed together, and Dean is a deeply sexual person, and we know Cas is not against that - at all, so no - I wouldn’t be happy with a five minute handshake at the very end, but I also wouldn’t be happy with the show changing everything it is jut to fit a romance in - and, most of all, I wouldn’t be happy with an ambiguous, ‘you’re the viewer, you decide’ Sherlock ending - nope. What I want is enough time for both characters to come to terms with how they’re feeling, followed by a clear, textual scene of them getting together, followed by their relationship being never brought up again as a central element of the show. Everything stays exactly the same, except sometimes Dean and Cas get a room just for the two of them, and Dean fixes Cas’ tie (which he does anyway), and Sam teases him about something or other because he’s a little shit, and Cas stares at Dean - a lot (which he does anyway), and maybe more hugs? and that’s it. They hunt, they do stuff, they face tragic choices - Supernatural shouldn’t be about a love story - it just shouldn’t hide it, because there’s nothing wrong with your main character being queer and it’s 2017 so maybe deal with it, show?)

[azazelsocks]

vengeuse replied to your post: sometimes i think it would be really fun to try a...

you have a lot of scenarios??? i would like to hear them all thank you

LMAO OKAY UH HERE’S A CUT IT’S 1.3K OF ME BABBLING ABOUT BOY KING SAM

THE CLASSIC: it’s s4, Dean has gone to Hell, and with Ruby’s help Sam storms Hell to get him back

RESULT 1: Dean is already a demon. Depending on how Sam was characterized this could either end really serial-killer-y with them staying in Hell together or maybe Sam, using his newfound Hell resources, isn’t okay with it and tries to cure Dean? Boy king Sam trying to cure a demon is kind of hilarious to me because I don’t think any other demons would be okay with it they’d all be like “WTF my lord, what’s wrong with being a demon” and Sam would be like “no no it’s not that I don’t like demons it’s just that this one can’t be a demon” but that would also be so tied up in self-hatred for Sam because he’s a demon he just feels like he actually deserves it ahhhhhhh

RESULT 2: Dean is not a demon yet. Sam has to choose between Hell & his brother. On my Dean-negative days this ends way differently than on my non-canon Dean-is-a-good-brother days lol. either way, sam stays the boy king. you can’t take that back.

RESULT 3: The angels got there first. Sam is like “well that’s... not the worst thing that could have happened” but as he learns about the plans for the apocalypse, it starts seeming a whole lot worse. + because Sam isn’t actually there with Dean, I figure it would be even easier to manipulate Dean into thinking that his brother is a lost cause and he needs to say yes to save the world. Sam declares war. this one could end all sorts of ways like maybe Sam looses Lucifer by accident preventing Lilith from taking his throne and it runs pretty close to canon; maybe Sam faces down with Michael at the end and kills the vessel Dean in the process; maybe we get endverse but it’s actually Sam in the white suit this time!!!

actually i just thought of the endverse ending and i fucking love it i’m keeping that as a scenario on its own

THE POLY S4: Dean comes back from Hell, but he’s still a demon. Sam is with Ruby (who in this AU does not intend to raise Lucifer). Dean is upset because he’s a possessive fuck, but he’s also gained something of a new perspective being a demon, and it’s like... basically all Dean x Ruby fighting over Sam with Ruby usually winning because she has more experience and Ruby is all like “You’re not the only one who loves Sam or the only one Sam loves” and Dean is like “-splutters-” but eventually after a disaster they come to a truce to get rid of Lilith and put Sam on the throne and it’s a happy poly V or triad, whichever you prefer 

THE PRODIGY: Sam doesn’t make it out of the house with Dean and John and is raised by Azazel from six months old. I don’t know where this one goes I just like the idea of it. sometimes the other special children are his siblings and sometimes he’s the only child, the heir from the beginning. 

THE KNIGHT OF HELL: s9 Dean gets Sam back on the blood. I don’t really like the way most fics go with this bc they always end with Sam really dependent on Dean and like ... ehhhhhh. (This sambenny one by waterbird13 is a really good take on it tho not boyking) BUT I do like the idea of Sam pretending to drink it for Dean but actually taking it for the power boost. Thought you could lead Sam around like Ruby did?? THINK AGAIN. HE’S KING NOW. 

THE RACK: The crossroads demon won’t trade Sam for Dean, but he does offer Sam a way into Hell. See what you can do with that, he says. Better than what you’ve got now, right? (Look, if you like boy!king and you haven’t read Threefold Path To Redemption what the fuck are you even doing unless you don't like wincest or torture then okay)

TORTURER 1: it’s Dean whooooo is surprised. I have this headcanon that the longer a demon stays on the rack, the more powerful they are when they get off so I personally like this one because I just have this image in my head of Sam finally agreeing to get off the rack and Dean is thrilled and lets him off and then Sam force-slams him and grits out “We’re getting out of here.” Except once a man tortured into demonhood always a man tortured into demonhood OOOH especially because he wasn’t dead when he went to Hell (that would cheat Dean’s deal). (and yeah you have to shed blood in Hell but it doesn’t say torture I think murdering a bunch of demons on the way out probably counts)

TORTURER 2: it’s someone else, Sam’s personal Alastair, who raises not a torturer but a king. tasty

THE QUEER RULER: This one is just one where Sam is trans (sometimes I like it to be trans girl Sam and sometimes I like it to be trans boy Sam or nb!Sam) & it’s like...one more thing for people to be disgusted by and it drives home the “freak/pariah” themes they were going with Sam (kind of overshadowed by the addict themes, but they’re there) and then Sam takes the throne and fucking. owns it. this one is just cathartic for me cos i am trans

THE ANGELS: Sam has been dreaming of an angel with blue eyes and he doesn’t know why. I don’t know why either, but I do like me a Hades/Persephone boy king sastiel mmmm

THE SELF-INDULGENT SAMCEST: these ones are just... you know what, don’t judge me.

YOUNG SAM’S WORLD: idfk but this one is like a sitcom where Sam is still in Stanford and something fucked up on the boy king’s end and he ended up in Sam’s dorm and is out of juice so he has to crash for the time being. Shenanigans with Brady! Shenanigans with Sams! God, why can’t Sam’s life be normal!

BOY KING’S WORLD: Somehow regular!Sam ends up in the world where he’s the boy king (ANOTHER FIC REC (SASSY/GEN)) anyways 

1: Boy king Sam’s Dean has been dead for years; really, properly, inaccessibly gone. Mad with grief, he performs a summoning spell across dimensions (if he can’t have his Dean, a different one will do) with the Samulet as the focal point, but it’s a Sam that ends up in the circle instead of a Dean. This Sam has the Samulet on him because in his world, Dean died as well, before Sam was 18, and it was the catalyst for Sam leaving. These Sams have some things to learn from each other, cos other Sam has managed to deal with his grief and move on, and boy king Sam has managed to deal with his destiny, so I just think it would be a fun character study

2: Older Sam (s9-s11 i haven’t watched s12 yet but i probably will when it comes to netflix) fucks up a spell and ends up in Boy King Sam’s world. Older Sam is a little shellshocked from the travel, meeting his other self, and like...how much respect his other self commands? his other self even has friends and trusted confidants? being a hell-bound freak didn’t ruin his other self’s life? Boy King Sam figures out both a spell & Older Sam’s emotional state, and, because, well, he’s really helping himself, sends Older Sam back to his dimension with a few tips and some contacts from the old guard of demons who wanted Sam on the throne from the beginning. MAYBE THEY FUCK IN HERE SOMEWHERE

okay i’ve run out WAIT NO

THE SEASON NINE: Gadreel happens. Crowley happens. Being possessed by a demon for the first time since...Meg? reawakens Sam’s powers, cleanly, without the use of blood (he SHOULD be able to use them without blood, everyone else could) and SAM IS FUCKING PISSED. The healthy way to resolve this is Sam just leaves forever and fixes the big bad by killing/recruiting Abaddon.

 but I also have a pissy catharsis dean-whump version where Sam, furious, does exactly what Abaddon threatened, burns off Dean’s tattoo, and lets his most favorite demon have Dean’s body indefinitely. See how you like it, Dean. (HAS DEAN EVER FUCKING BEEN POSSESSED EVER??? NO????? WE JUST GOT THE ABADDON SCENE. MAKE IT HAPPEN WRITERS.)

okay that’s actually all of them. for now. maybe i’ll come up with more later! do you see my dilemma

EDIT: TWO MORE THAT I FORGOT

THE SPECIAL CHILDREN: it occurs to me that since the foresight kids (sam & ava) had initial visions keyed into the other psychic kids to start with… if sam had gone with Meg proper in Scarecrow and done a little focusing, it would have been unbelievably easy for him to find the other special children. whenever he summoned a vision he’d know where another one was. he could have hunted the non-premonitionary kids down before the death matches even started happening. he coulda won before there was even a competition

THE DEAD FAMILY: there are some who headcanon that hellfire takes you, guess what, straight to hell. Sam gets to hell, and finds his mother and his girlfriend are there?? obviously he rescues them from whatever tortures they may or may not have endured. jess learns all of sam, no more secrets, and sam gets to learn who mary is (and mary tells sam she was sorry, it wasn’t his fault she died).

EDIT THE SECOND: EVEN MORE THAT I FORGOT

THE FALLEN ANGEL: Instead of falling in love with humanity, Castiel falls in love with the boy who the entire world hates, whose destiny is to rule Hell, and yet is still pure of heart & soul. When he gives up Heaven, he gives it up to go to Hell.

THE GODSTIEL: Sam is the boy king. Cas is God. Enemies to lovers. A lot of snarky negotiation between the two as they duke out what exactly the roles of Heaven and Hell will be in this new world order.

CONSORT!DEAN: aka, what 90% of boy king fics are. i don’t really care? but it probably deserves a place here anyways.

THE REPLACEMENT: all those wincest aus where Sam uses another person as a surrogate Dean. fleshflutter had an amazing and absolutely horrifying one with adult!Ben. i have one with frenchmistake!jensen. absolutely terrible. 

THE AMPUTEE: Sam’s coup goes poorly and results in him being really physically fucked up, but successful. Compatible with most other AUs. Basically like...what if Sam wasn’t the all powerful godking we usually picture but just, still Sam, fighting through broken arms and missing fingers, and being badass at the same time.

If anyone reading this wants to steal one of these idears and write a fic/do art, blease, i will sacrifice my firstborn child to your boyking