#for an FBI agent who is old enough to have gone through med school and quantico and risen up the ranks to head an investigation

[bethanyactually]

this is, imo, some of the most hilariously teenaged conversation on this show

[archieimagines]

Family Don’t End With Blood | Dean Winchester Series | Part 1

I’ve had this idea for a series for a while and decided to try to write it! Reader is the child of Dean Winchester and one of his many one nightstands. But what happens when her mother is mysteriously killed at the hand of angels? And will the reader let the Winchesters into her heart?

word count: 1999 words. warnings: violence, mental illness (schizophrenia, ADHD, dyslexia), swearing, angst, blood and gore.

enjoy ;)

You never knew your father, mom had always said that it was a one night stand. He was apparently some FBI agent that had stopped in town for a case, and he and your mom met at the local bar and later that night you were conceived. He didn’t even know you existed, you thought that had to be better than him knowing and wanting nothing to do with you.

But it would have been nice to have help to look after your mom. She had never been quite ‘there’, she was always going about how she could hear the voices and would sometimes look at you say you weren’t her daughter. Which was impossible because you looked exactly like her except you had vibrant green eyes and were almost 6’0, that you had apparently inherited from your father. When you were 11 she was diagnosed as a schizophrenic after she had screamed in the middle of a dinner how the ‘voices’ were looking for her. Not long after that, you were diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia, so not only were you making sure she was getting her treatments, you had to look after yourself. Which meant you practically raised yourself, by the time you were 17 you dropped out of high school, taking an online course so you were closer to your mother.

That was a year ago today. You were currently working at the diner just on the outskirts of the small town you had lived in your whole life. It wasn’t the best job, but it was the best you could do for the time being. Unbeknownst to you, this was the day your life would change forever, for better or for worse.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

You groaned while turning over in your bed to shut off the alarm you had set the night before. Sitting up, you stretched out your arms and yawned. The sound of pots and pans clanging alerted to you that mom was awake. Jumping out of bed, you quickly got dressed in the tight uniform of the diner, pulling at the top so your cleavage wasn’t spilling out. You tied up your hair, grabbed your phone and car keys before exiting the room.

You entered the kitchen, your mom’s back was turned away from you as she washed the dishes from last night’s dinner. She said nothing, focusing completely on the current task. You walked to the island bench and pulled out your and your mother’s prescription boxes.

“Mom, have you taken your meds?” You inquired looking at the box, she didn’t reply which told you she hadn’t. You popped out two capsules and grabbed the orange juice and poured it into a tall glass.  “Here,” you said, practically shoving the glass and meds in her face. She grunted, drying her hands off with a tea towel before taking them from you.

“When are you getting home?” She asked quietly, pulling gently at her dressing gown.

“Around 11 tonight,” you answered swallowing your own medicine, coughing a bit after.

“You have to be home earlier than that,” she demanded, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Well, that’s when my shift finishes, not a lot I can do.”

“I can’t be alone! They’re going to find me!” She shouted, bringing her fist against her chest. You straightened your posture and held out your hands warily.

“No one’s coming for you, mom. It’s just the schizophrenia talking,” you tried to soothe.

“I’m not sick! They came once when I was pregnant, and they’re going to come back. Please, you can’t let them take me!” She screamed, grabbing onto you hard enough to leave bruises. You grimaced, but didn’t push her away, instead pulling her into a bone-crushing hug and resting your chin on her head as she cried into your chest.

“You’re fine, shh. I’m here, mom. You’re okay,” you whispered on a loop, for almost ten minutes until she calmed down. You sat her down onto one of the dining room chairs, before grabbing a glass of water. “I’ll try to get home earlier, okay?” She nodded silently and squeezed your hand.

You left soon after that, stopping at your next door neighbours. They were a lovely elderly couple, who always kept an eye on your mother while you were at work. You told them about her episode and instructed them to call you if anything else happened. Then rushed over to your red 1970 Pontiac GTO, turning on the ignition and speeding to the diner, seeing you were 15 minutes late for work.

You turned off the engine and ran inside, huffing and puffing, receiving a few odd glances from the customers. You walked behind the counter and to the staff room to see your card had already been punched in. You smiled realising that your best friend Rachel had done it to save your ass… again. Sighing, you grabbed an apron and tied it around your waist.

You went out front, bumping waists with Rachel, who was refilling the ketchup and mustard bottles. She laughed, but stopped when she saw past your happy facade and instead the worry in your eyes. Not even having to ask what happened she hugged you tightly, letting you know that she was here for you.

“Would you two stop hugging and get to work!” Your boss shouted from the kitchen his thick Irish accent making it almost impossible for anyone but the two of you to understand him.

“Fine, Sean!” You both called out in response while rolling your eyes. The day progressed like normal, the same people that always came in did just that. Some people passing through stopped to try some of the famous pie Sean made every day. The only odd thing about the day was the news. Reports of strange murders all around the area, people who had no interaction with the other victims were found with their eyes burned out of their heads. It was worrying at one point a police officer came onto the tv to assure everyone everything was going to be all right. But for some reason you felt like something terrible was going to happen. And all the stress was giving you a killer headache. It felt like your head was about to split right open, like someone was trying to get inside your mind, even. You shook that thought, chuckling at how stupid you were being.

Sean let you off early due to the headache, wishing you a good night. You said bye to Rachel, before jumping into your car and headed home. But stopping at the convenience store, grabbing a bag of M&Ms for you and mom to share if she wasn’t already in bed.

Your heart froze when you pulled up at your driveway. The door of your small home was wide open, practically hanging off its hinges. You launched yourself out of the car, leaving the engine running as your tore inside the house. Several vases and fine china were smashed on the floor.

“Mom! MOM!” You screamed, panic rising in your chest, you checked the whole house. It was a wreck, photos, glass, paper were all strewn over the ground. Several pieces of furniture were turned upside down. By the time you reached the kitchen, tears were gushing down your face, which only increased at the sight you saw.

Your mother was atop the bench, cuts all over her body, blood seeping out a multitude of them, but the most horrific sight was the two gaping holes in her head where her eyes used to be. You screamed as your heart broke. You climbed onto the bench and pulled her head against your chest.

“Please, please don’t. Mommy. Don’t leave, I can’t do this without you.” You cried until the police came storming into your house after they had gotten several calls saying they heard screaming from your house. They had to tear you away from your mother so the morgue could take her and so they could question you. Not to long after that, Rachel came thundering in, wrapping you up in her arms. Her own tears soaking your shoulder, but you couldn’t cry anymore, you felt nothing. You were only a shell of a person without your mom, you weren’t a full person. Rachel stayed with you the rest of the night, not once leaving your side. You sat in the living room, clutching onto an old picture of you and your mother. It was just after you were born, you were wrapped up in your mother’s arms, she was smiling softly at the camera while your grandfather sat next to her, arms around her shoulders. You realised at that point, you had no family, your grand parents had been dead for years and you had no uncles or aunts and your father was complete mystery.

Well, until Rachel came down with small photo clasped in her hands. She had been going through your mothers things, so you didn’t have to. She placed it in your hands, your eyes scrunching up in disbelief. It was a photo of your father, he and your mother were sitting close together in a booth, beers in hand. You saw the similarities between him and yourself, the eyes being the most obvious, they were identical. But now you saw you actually had the same shaped lips, nose and shade of hair. Looking at your mother, you were shocked at how different she looked. She looked a lot younger, no bags under her eyes from sleepless nights. Eyes bright and aware instead of glassy and far away, and no age lines whatsoever.

You wanted to rip the picture apart as well as keep it by your heart forever. Your heart fighting with itself, one side wanted it destroyed because it reminded you that your mother was gone and how hard of life she had ended up having. While the other wanted to keep it because it gave you an idea of what she was like before everything had gone downhill. The fact your father was in it made no difference for you.

Your thoughts were cut off by a knock at the door, you stood up, and held on to the memory of your mother tightly. At the door were two men dressed in suits, one was facing you and the other was turned away and talking on the phone. The taller of the two introduced himself as Agent Perry and his partner was Agent Springsteen. He said he was from the FBI, which you had a hard time believing because of his ridiculously long hair. He started to explain to you that he thought your mother’s death was somehow linked to the string of murders happening all over the country, while he surveyed the house. You heard a curse from behind you, causing you to turn around.

In front of you was the man from the picture in your hand. Your estranged father, who up until today you had honestly thought you’d never meet, was standing before you. He stared back at you in shock, obviously recognising himself in you.

“Do I know y—?” He started warily, but you cut him off with your fist that wasn’t holding the picture, hitting him square in the face. A rage you had never felt before bubbled inside you, it was coursing through your veins and made you feel alive. He recoiled, shouting in pain, his partner turned around preparing to draw his gun. Your father looked up at you, eyes full of confusion and anger.

“Hi asshole, I’m your kid.,” you introduced yourself sarcastically, holding your hand which you were certain that you’d just sprained. Both your father and his partner froze in shock while Rachel came out to ask what was going on. Only to freeze when she saw you apparent father on the ground, you cradling your injured hand and a giant with some long ass hair reaching for his gun in your entryway.

written by: spaz