#he's called sammy in every other game. it's stuck fast.

[torchlight-troubles]

go sammy go!

[watchmegetobsessed]

The best present - Harry Styles

Sequel to UPDATE

on demand, this is a fluffy little sequel to update, hope you’ll like it! tagging the people who asked for said sequel: @urdadbtch​ @f-vasquezp​ 

word count: 3k

masterlist

Harry has a soft spot for surprises. Especially if he is the one planning them for a loved one. The overflowing joy he sees in one’s eyes upon receiving a carefully planned surprise just gives him a different type of satisfaction in life, one he couldn’t live without.

His life has taken a pleasant turn ever since Y/N entered it, virtually and in a real dimension. It hasn’t been the easiest with his hectic schedule and her anchored life in Spokane, but with some time paid to adjusting to the situation they managed to make it work. He wouldn’t have settled for anything else, because he just simply couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore and luckily she felt the same way.

Harry fell in love with her quicker than what it took for the weather to turn cold in the fall. It felt like the most natural thing that has ever happened to him, to fall for her whole being, everything that’s her on the inside and outside. Harry often caught himself thinking what he did in life to earn such a beautiful person in his life. He hasn’t figured that one out yet.

Y/N was like a warm summer breeze on a hot august evening, easily charmed anyone and everyone Harry introduced her to. She slowly but surely met some of the most important people in Harry’s life and he just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it felt like she’s been part of his life since forever even on the first meetings.

“She is wonderful, I love her,” his mother told him when they finally had the chance to meet upon a weekend they spent in New York. It was a lucky time when both his mother and Y/N were free and he took the chance to cook up a mini vacation in the city right away. Anne was thrilled to meet the woman that had her son wrapped around her fingers even before meeting.

Harry felt like he was on the top of the world when he saw the two women get along like they’ve been friends for years, it filled his heart even more.

The situation was quite the same with Gemma, in just a blink of an eye they were making plans on their own not including Harry, which hit him a little hard in the chest, but he was happy knowing they found the common ground.

“You amaze me so much,” he once told Y/N when they were spending the night at her place, one of those weekends when Harry flew all the way to Spokane just to spend less than 48 hours with her. Even with the long flights and hustle that came with the traveling he wouldn’t have done it any other way. If he could see her smile for just ten minutes he would have travelled days.

“I do?” she asked smirking up at him, putting her book aside as she rested her chin on his tattooed chest.

“Mhm,” he hummed with a quirky smile. “In so many ways.”

“Write a song about them so I can listen to it,” she told him as a joke. Little did she know that not even a week later that’s exactly what Harry did. It was another addition to the endless list of songs she inspired.

December creeped its way around the corner faster than they were expecting and in a blink of an eye every store was filled with Christmas ornaments and wrapping papers, the most iconic Christmas songs were played everywhere, making those who work at retail want to throw Michael Bublé and Mariah Carey right out the window for every having the thought of recording Christmas music.

Harry and Y/N had plans for the holidays. They agreed on spending three days from 22nd to 24th with his family and then fly to Portland to be with her family from the 25th to 27th before they head to New York City to spend the last few days left from the year together and celebrate the new year at a party Harry was invited to.

These plans were set in stone right until Harry decided to surprise his lover with the best gift he could think about. It was a tough call and took him weeks to arrange but Harry was able to get Y/N’s brother to leave for the holidays earlier, on the 21st instead of just the 26th.

“Why are we changing it again?” Y/N asks curiously as she sits on Harry’s lap when they are changing their plane tickets so they could start the holidays at her family instead of his.

“Mom is not going to be home until the 24th,” he lies and then adds: “Gemma is also gonna only arrive on the 23rd. Figured it would work better. We would be at your parents’ from the 21st to the 23rd, go to the UK from 24th to 26th and there is an early flight so we would be in Portland by the time your brother arrives.”

He had spent a long time figuring out how to manage the dates so she wouldn’t be suspicious. Seemingly, it worked, because Y/N nods as she stands up and walks over to the kitchen.

“Alright. But isn’t that too much of a hustle to go back and forth two times?”

“Not that horrible,” Harry smiles in her way, his fingers moving fast on the keyboard to make the right changes for their trips before she returns and sees that the dates are not exactly the same as he told her. Luckily, she hops onto the kitchen counter as he finishes up and closes his laptop feeling ecstatic about the surprise he has planned for her.

“It’s gonna be busy,” she points out as Harry walks over to her, placing his hands on each side of her on the counter.

“But we will be busy together,” he grins leaning closer to steal a kiss.

As the days pass by Harry is growing more and more excited about the surprise. He almost slipped a few times upon talking about the holidays, but managed to save the situation just in time. Y/N had no idea what he had in store for her.

“That’s all your stuff for our trip?” Y/N asks when Harry arrives to her place with his decent, normal sized suitcase that has his essentials for the next about seven days while they will be on the road. He glances down at his bag before walking inside and setting it down in the hallway.

“Love, I’ve learned how to pack in a smart way,” he tells her teasingly before pecking her on the lips while he takes his coat off and hangs it in the hallway.

“Yeah, but it’s an entire week. I’m going with twice this much.”

“’Cuz you are packing for New York as well. We’ll be staying in my place, remember? I don’t need stuff for that time,” he reminds her and he is right, but she is still amazed at how he managed to fit everything he needs into just one suitcase.

That night Harry lies awake with her sleeping form next to him. Looking around the room he thinks about how this is the same place he fell in love with her, but it was through just a screen. All the plants, the furniture, the bed he saw behind her in the videos are now his reality as well and in just a few short months they have grown so close to each other, he couldn’t imagine his life in a different way.

“What’s the matter?” he hears her groggy voice coming from next to him and looking to the side he sees that she is blinking at him in the dark.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning to his side to face her, noses almost touching on the pillow.

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?” she asks, sneaking a hand to his back under the covers and she starts to gently stroke his skin with his fingertips, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Just… excited about the holidays,” he whispers with a shrug. He can’t tell her that he is excited to meet your family, especially your brother since he is kind of the reason you ever got the chance to meet. He feels like he is too worked up about meeting her parents and cousins, but he can’t wait to feel like he is part of her family. What he doesn’t know is that she already sees him as part of it, has been since she realized how deeply in love she is with him.

“Mmm, excited about your gifts?” she teases him with closed eyes, but her fingers are still moving on his back. Harry lets out a soft chuckle.

“Especially about those.”

He brings his arm around her frame and pulls her to his chest as they make themselves comfortable under the covers, legs tangled, her face resting on his chest as he gently strokes her arms, soothing her back into sleep.

“I love you,” he whispers thinking she has already fallen back asleep. It wasn’t the first time he has said the words to her, but tonight just feels a little different.

“Love you too,” she mumbles back pressing a kiss to his naked chest before she sighs and lets herself fall back into sleep.

 Her family knew about the change in Sammy’s arrival, but Harry made them promise they won’t say a word to Y/N, keeping it as a surprise.

Her mother welcomes the two of them with warm excitement, the house already smelling amazing from all the different cookies she’s been baking, the dinner is also in the making on the stove.

“Finally here!” she hugs both of them, even though she hasn’t officially met Harry, only talked to him on the phone about Sammy’s early arrival. “Come on in!”

The two of them get rid of their winter attire before Harry turns to her mother holding out a hand to make their first meeting official.

“So nice to meet ya, I’m Harry.”

Instead of taking his hand her mother pulls him into another tight hug that he returns with a soft chuckle.

“I’m so happy you are finally here! I’ve heard so much good about you,” she tells him with a sly, knowing smile while Y/N is not looking. “I can tell you are a blessing to the family already.”

“Thank you,” he nods smiling.

Harry meets Y/N’s dad and two of her cousins who have arrived earlier and they all gather in the living room just talking at first, then soon enough they start playing board games. They get stuck on Activity, the pairs are Y/N and Harry, her mom and dad, and her two cousins. The competition is burning up the house, Harry can tell they all take the game very seriously.

Through the game Harry keeps glancing out the window, waiting for a car to park at the driveway. He has sent a car to pick Sammy up, but since he didn’t have his phone on him just yet he couldn’t let Harry know when he would be arriving exactly.

Just after he is done drawing in one of the rounds he sees the black car pull up at the house. Harry pretends to get a call and he can see the excitement grow in her parents’ eyes as they already know what this means, while Y/N is oblivious to anything that’s about to happen. Harry quietly makes his way out of the house hoping he didn’t draw her attention, and that’s when Sammy gets out of the car thanking the driver for the ride. As he turns around Harry is stunned to see how much the two of them resemble. He sees her eyes in his, their ears curl the same way and he has the exactly same hair color as her. There was no doubt the two of them were related.

“Harry, right?” he asks holding his hand out firmly that Harry takes smiling.

“Yeah. Sammy, I supposed.”

“The one and only,” he chuckles holding his bag’s strap over his shoulder.

“I would love to chat more, but I think we should move inside first,” Harry suggests and Sammy follows him up the few stairs that leads to the front door.

“Harry! Come on, we are up next!” Y/N calls out from the living room as the two guys walk inside.

She is seated on the floor, her back to the hallway so she doesn’t see when the two men walk in, grinning from ear to ear. She only notices something is happening when she sees her mother gasp happily at the sight of her son.

“What—“ she starts but turning around her words disappear as she stares up at her brother who she hasn’t seen in what feels like ages.

Harry overflows with joy when he sees how shocked she is, in the best way possible. He watches her leap to her feet and jolt right at Sammy, throwing herself into his arms as he lifts her up, twirling her around in excitement.

“Hi there, little sis,” he chuckles still holding her close as she is fighting with her tears upon the surprise she just had.

“How… What are you doing here early?” she asks in total awe as she tries to comprehend that he is truly here, in her arms.

“Ask you boyfriend,” Sammy chuckles looking in Harry’s direction. “He arranged an early leaving for me, I don’t know how, but he did,” Sammy adds letting go of his sister.

As her parents make their way to their son Y/N moves over to Harry, still in complete disbelief that he did this.

“How?” she asks, arms snaking up around his neck while his hands get a hold of her waist.

“I have… connections,” he shrugs shyly and she just shakes her head laughing before she pulls him down for the sweetest thank you kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she sighs pecking his lips once again.

“What I can’t believe is that he could keep it a secret this long,” Sammy speaks up.

“Wait, how long have you known this?”

“A couple weeks. Got it finalized early December,” Harry admits, feeling proud that he could make this happen.

“So this is why we had to change the tickets!” she gasps in realization. “When do we have to leave for real then?”

“We are staying until the 25th, our plane leaves in the afternoon,” he smiles warmly as he sees her eyes light up. According to the original plans they would have had only two days with Sammy at home, but this way it’s almost four entire days. “This was the most I could get, Love,” Harry adds, feeling a bit guilty that they are leaving to see his family, but Y/N shakes her head.

“This is absolutely perfect. You gave me the best present,” she smiles cupping his face in her hands as she pulls him down for another kiss.

This Christmas goes down as the best one she has ever had. The time they spend with her family holds a special place in her heart, especially because she loves seeing her family and Harry get along so well. She now knows what he felt when she met his mother and sister. Seeing him be so kind to her mom and have loads of things to talk about with her dad and brother warms her in a way only Harry can make her feel.

The feeling doesn’t change when they arrive to his home. She feels like she is part of the family just as much as he is. They spend some splendid days with his extended family, enjoying the spirit of the holidays and she is almost sad when it’s time for them to leave.

“Come back soon, Sweetheart,” Anne tells her when they are saying goodbye at the airport.

“I will, if he is okay with bringing me next time,” she chuckles glancing at Harry by her side.

“Oh I sure am, Love,” he smiles kissing the top of her head.

Those couple of days they spend together in the city holds memories they will surely never forget. They finally get to spend time together without anything interrupting them, just enjoying the little moments, falling deeper in love with each passing day.

The last day arrives in a fast pace and neither of them can believe the year is ending so soon. They spend the day in bed mostly before it’s time to get ready for the party one of Harry’s friends is hosting in Manhattan.

It’s a nice way to end such a wonderful year, they mix and mingle with the guests but keep each other close, especially when they reach the last minutes of the year left. Harry takes her hand and pulls her out to the balcony to have some privacy before the countdown.

“Crazy how we are here,” he sighs as his arms are wrapped around her figure, warming her body as much as he can in the New York City winter time.

“Who would have thought?” she chuckles placing a sweet kiss to his jawline.

“Not me,” he admits laughing. “But I’m glad it’s my reality now.”

Y/N smiles up at him with gratitude in her eyes, just when the countdown starts inside.

“Have you ever had a New Year’s Eve kiss?” Harry asks as he pulls her closer, if that’s even possible.

“Sadly, I have not.”

“Then can I have the pleasure to be your first?” he smirks down at her and she just nods biting into her bottom lip.

“Three! Two! One!” the guests call out inside as the whole city erupts at the same time, fireworks go off and cheering echoes through the building, but it all fades into nothing as Harry leans down and kisses her sweetly. They spend the first couple of moments of the new year melted together until they pull back for air. The crispy winter air has turned his nose red quickly and she is lost in how adorable but handsome he still manages to look.

“Harry Styles,” she sighs feeling defeated by her own feelings. “You are one wonderful creature, you know that?” she wonders, as if she was saying her inner thoughts out loud. Harry chuckles as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

“That makes the two of us, Love.”

I’m opening a Harry taglist, let me know if you are interested in being on it!

[inkdemonapologist]

IF YOU HAVENT READ BOO’S RECAP for the previous session (chapter 4) of our Call of Cthulhu But With Bendy Added game YOU REALLY SHOULD......

okay are u caught up? You got the reveal? 

okay cool

SO WE FOUND OUT WE’RE DEAD!!! Well, specifically Sammy and Joey have been killed(?) and this whole adventure it’s just been Henry haunted by his two friends, and we have just been POSSESSING HENRY every time we interact with the world in any tangible way, and every time we have a conversation it’s just been Henry Having A Conversation With Himself to everyone else’s eyes, WHICH I GUESS EXPLAINS why everyone has been acting so unsettled and frightened every time we start bickering with each other!! I have been just LOSING IT thinking back through everything we’ve done and imagining Joey and Sammy’s expressions and body language on Henry’s physical form. INCREDIBLE.

Also, while Sammy’s mind/spirit/???? is stuck with Henry, his ink-drowned body appears to have gone a bit prophet-y and is running around with this cult talking about serving his lord and sacrificing sheep, which Sammy would just rather not deal with. Sammy Being Deeply Embarrassed By His Ink Self is my favourite genre of comedy

(also credits to @sketch-cryptid for their henry design..... he’s just, v soft,)

OUT OF CONTEXT QUOTES AGAIN!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (sketch-cryptid), and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] [ooc] Unless one of them decides, “I'm not going to follow Henry, he seems responsible,” and just stays put at the hotel, then that doesn't help us-- [Joey] Well, Henry's "crazy," so [Henry] Honestly, yeah, I think maybe if we have Henry and Joey split off, then those might be the ones that they'll follow, which... leaves..... S a m m y  to talk to Senegal I guess;;;??? [Sammy] ...I don't know how to feel about the way that you said that.

[Joey] I guess once Joey's downtown he's going to, kind of look around and see if he was followed. [GM] Make a Spot (hidden) roll! [Joey] *rolls* [Joey] ... he is not going to look around and see if he was followed!

[Henry gets a hidden message in his sketchbook, "They're doing all they can, please don't blame them for leaving you."] [Henry] Okay, then, he's going to write back "who do you mean?" [GM] "Who do you mean?" [Henry] Yeah, who is "they"? [Sammy] Unclear antecedent. That's what I'm writing in the book, "unclear antecedent."

[Joey] Once he's back at the table, Joey is definitely drinking Henry's drink. I don't think he's noticed that it's not his, just, his hand came in contact with it and now he is drinking it.

[GM] Looking out the window, you don't see any guards, but you do think you see some black drips on the balcony-- [Sammy] UHHH CLOSING THE WINDOW. NOT ENGAGING. [Joey] Sammy Does Not See It... Sammy is Looking Away,

[GM] After a bit, he probably starts distantly hearing That Song again. [Sammy] WHY ME. UM.......... THAT’S FINE. It's just very annoying. It's hard to play music when someone is playing music loudly next door. [GM] It's quiet. But it's also Sammy.

[GM] There is a tough-looking individual that is holding a gun onnnnnn..... Henry! [Henry] Why me? [Joey] WHY HENRY?!

[GM] "Correct me if I’m wrong, but you're with Joey Drew Studios?" [Joey] Yes! And it's about fucking time you talked with us! [Joey] [ooc] Sorry, I rolled a one on my Bad Decision dice.

[Joey] [to our kidnappers] ...Can we have a car? [GM] ...........make another Fast Talk check.

[Sammy] ...Tom is the one being stabbed, right? [Joey] I guess? If he's already hosting whatever it is-- [Sammy] My dream ended with me getting stabbed... [Joey] Joey's gonna take a moment to kind of process that, and says something along the lines of, Well, we can't let that happen! Who else is going to write the songs? [Sammy] tHANKS,

[Henry] Really!! Can I get-- [Sammy] an amen [Henry] --a straight answer!

[Joey] Joey pockets the map, and he looks between the two of them............. and he bolts! [Sammy] oKAY, [Henry] Can I roll... to grab him.... [Sammy] Runs after Joey! [Henry] runs after Joey..., [GM] Um, okay -- [Henry] I want to make a roll to grab him, I will wrestle him to the ground. [Joey] I want to make a roll to lose them! [GM] uhhhh..... in retrospect I should've looked up the chase rules.....

[GM] *still looking up chase rules* Why is it all about cars?!? [Sammy] Get back in the car, chase after Joey! Sammy's gonna hit him with a car! [Joey] This is why he needs the cane later.

[Henry] DREW. You are not leaving us! You're not going by yourself, you're going to get yourself killed. [Henry] And then he's going to try to drag him to a halt. [Joey] I do think, Joey is just going to kind of stare at him,,, he wasn't ready for Henry to take that tone with him,,,,

[Sammy] I'm not really sure what decisions my past self thought most wise. Apparently, my past self thought coming on this trip was a good idea! [Henry] *mumbling* I don't think any of us thought this was a good idea.

[Sammy] Sammy really is impressed at the way that Joey is able to weaponise his worst qualities.

[GM] Make Spot (hidden) checks too, just for funsies. [Sammy] Oh! Oh just for funsies! Just a little, a fun activity, planned just for us!

[Henry] Have we ever gotten Binoculars’ name? [Joey] No. [GM] I know it, but no, you haven't. [Sammy] [in character voice] "Binoculars" works! We all know who we're talking about! [Henry] Oh, no, that wasn't in character! That was just ME wondering. [Joey] Henry's also wondering this, but just not saying it. [Sammy] Sammy just takes a moment to think about how much we don't need to know Binoculars' name!

[Joey] He is going to take out his gun, and then-- [Sammy] Oh! That's right! We have guns!

[Joey] Joey is going to toss the mask on the ground and step on it with his foot to break it. [GM] It... it snaps! [Sammy] [ooc] NO, MY LORD

[Joey] Sammy, is that you...? [GM] No reply. [Joey] ...Binoculars?! [Sammy] ........we really should've got his name.

[Joey] *pushes Sammy's voice out of the way*

[Sammy] We’ve gotta bring Joey back to life, so we can strangle him.

[Henry] Oh my god. I didn't expect ANY of this!! [Henry] I expected this game to be a short, fun session of, you know, Oh! That's neat! That's a Bendy, that's a Bendy right there! I DIDN'T EXPECT... THIS.

[Sammy] [ooc] I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT HENRY’S BEEN FAST-TALKING WHILE POSSESSED BY THE SPIRIT OF JOEY DREW.

[Sammy] Sammy thinks it'd be a great idea for you to go back and grab one of those Bendy masks, and put it on. [Henry] *sighs* ...would it make you feel better, if I went back and grabbed a Bendy mask? [Joey] NO.

[GM] And you hear a voice from the bushes say, "Anything for my Lord!" [Sammy] Oh god, it's me.

[Henry] NO WAIT, this is Sammy, I can't kill him! [Joey] Hit him with the back of the axe! [Sammy] Throw a projector at him, that works really well!

[GM] The creature skids to a halt, and the snickering happens again, and it says "I had you going that time, though, didn't I?" [Henry] Henry, uh, hesitantly stops running, [Henry] Uh, yeah, you did! Is this a trick, should I keep running. [Sammy] Well THAT's the sort of question that ALWAYS gets answered honestly!

[GM] It seems they're implying that whoever is currently the host made a deal that ended up with the Lurker starting to look like Bendy, and Henry being unable to die. [Joey] *distressed noises of realisation* [Sammy] That sure sounds like the kind of deal Joey would make, doesn't it?! DOESN'T THAT SOUND LIKE SOMETHING JOEY WOULD WANT, FOR HENRY TO NEVER DIE?!?!

[Joey] Joey is having his own breakdown now, because he finally accepted that he did something wrong, and thus his brain has gone into both overdrive and.... it's like a computer that's overheating, [Sammy] Joey doesn't know how to function when things are his fault.

[GM] Increasing your spiritual power, for lack of a better way to put it -- which you've repeated now, how many times? [Sammy] This buff stacks? That seems like an oversight. [Henry] No, don't tell the devs! [Sammy] I mean, admittedly, Joey has done a bit of, of cheating, I think? Which is unsurprising for him.

[Sammy] If Joey's the host, I wouldn't be surprised if whatever deal he made might result in him not dying in addition to you. [Henry] Yeah, it sounds like, in all the previous loops, either I died, or he died. [Sammy] I'm not really sure what I got out of this arrangement. [Henry] I'm not sure either. [Joey] *hopefully*... some quality time in Haiti?

[Henry] [to the ink demon lurker creature] Anything else we should know? [GM] It does a shrug. It looks real weird.

[marlborodean]

spn quotes: season two

i’m collecting a bunch of quotes from the show! my favorite lines, good points of characterization, etc. all organized by episode and character, and with timestamps!

w/ncest shippers get lost

season one.

1. IN MY TIME OF DYING

Dean—

I’ve done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I’ve given everything I’ve ever had. Now you’re just gonna sit there and you’re gonna watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you? (11:14)

So you’re okay with dying? [Tessa: No, of course not. I just think, whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen. It’s out of my control. It’s just...fate.] Hm. That’s crap. You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die, or you can keep fighting no matter what. (18:48)

There’s no such thing as an honorable death. My corpse is gonna rot in the ground, and my family is gonna die. (30:38)

[John: You know, when, uh...when you were a kid, I’d come home from a hunt, and after what I’d seen, I’d be...I’d be wrecked. And you...you’d come up to me, and you’d put your hand on my shoulder, and you’d look me in the eye, and you’d...you’d say, “It’s okay, Dad.” Dean, I’m sorry.] Why? [You shouldn’t have had to say that to me, I should’ve been saying that to you. You know, I put...I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that. And you didn’t complain, not once.] (37:27)

Sam—

How is revenge gonna help him? You're not thinking about anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession! (13:17)

I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, alright? As long as you keep fighting. I mean, come on, you can't...you can't leave me here alone with Dad, we'll kill each other, you know that. Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again. (28:36)

Misc—

Tessa: You'll stay here for years—disembodied, scared. And over the decades, it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent. [Dean: What are you saying?] Dean, how do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go, and they can't move on. And you're about to become one: the same thing you hunt. (31:15)

Azazel: If only your boys knew how much their daddy loved them. (32:15)

2. EVERYBODY LOVES A CLOWN

Dean—

[Ellen: I’m so sorry.] It’s okay. We’re alright. [Really. I know how close you and your dad—] Really, lady, I’m fine. (11:37)

[Sam: You ever notice Dad had a falling-out with just about everybody? Don’t get all maudlin on me, man.] What do you mean? [I mean this strong, silent thing of yours. It’s crap, I’m over it.] Oh my God. [This isn’t just anyone we’re talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.] You know what? Back off, alright? Just because I’m not caring and sharing like you want me to— [No no no, that’s not what this is about, Dean. I don’t care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man! Listen, I’m your brother, alright? I just wanna make sure you’re okay.] Dude, I’m okay! I’m okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I’m okay, I’m gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues. Quit dumping them on me. [What are you talking about?] I just think it’s really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It’s like, “Oh, what would Dad want me to do?” Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you—you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him, and now that he’s dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I’m sorry, Sam, but you can’t. It’s too little, too late. [Why are you saying this to me?] Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this! I’m dealing with Dad’s death! Are you? (29:48)

Sam—

[Dean: This case was your idea. By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job.] So? [It's just not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.] I don't know, I just think taking this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do. (16:57)

[Mr. Cooper: You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts, always has been, for folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you two...you should go to school, find a couple of girls, have 2.5 kids. Live regular.] Sir, we don't want to go school, and we don't want regular. We want this. (22:34)

[Dean: I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to wussy state.] I'm having second thoughts. [Really?] Yeah. I think Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job. [Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted? You spent half your life doing what he didn't want, Sam.] Since he died, okay? You have a problem with that? (23:27)

I'm sorry that the last time I was with him, I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him. So you're right. What I'm doing right now, it is too little. It's too late. I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right, not at all. But neither are you. That much I know. (39:04)

3. BLOODLUST

Dean—

So I picked up this crossbow, and I hit that ugly sucker—silver-tipped arrow, right in his heart. Sammy’s waiting in the car, and me and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I’m sitting there, and I’m looking into the fire, I’m thinking to myself, “I’m 16 years old. Kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates. I’m seeing things that they’ll never even know, never even dream of.” So right then, I just sort of.... [Gordon: Embraced the life?] Yeah. (16:16)

You’re always saying to yourself, “He’s indestructible. He’ll always be around. Nothing can kill my dad.” And just like that, he’s gone. I can’t talk about this to Sammy. No, I got to keep my game face on. But, uh...truth is, I’m not handling it very well. I feel like I have this— [Gordon: Hole inside you? And it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker? Good. You can use it. Keeps you hungry. Trust me, there’s plenty out there needs killing, and this will help you do it. Dean, it’s not a crime to need your job.] (18:32)

[Gordon: It’s all black-and-white. There’s no maybe. You find the bad thing, kill it. See, most people spend their lives in shades of gray. Is this right? Is that wrong? Not us.] Not sure Sammy would agree with you, but, uh. [Doesn’t seem like your brother’s much like us. I’m not saying he’s wrong, just different. You and me, we were born to do this. It’s in our blood.] (20:22)

[Sam: You know what? You slap on this big smile, but I can see right through it, ‘cause I know how you feel, Dean. Dad’s dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can’t take it. But you can’t just fill up that hole with whoever you want to.] (27:47)

[Gordon: You’re not like your brother. You’re a killer, like me.] (37:08)

I wish we never took this job. It just jacked everything up. [Sam: What do you mean?] Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives. [Okay.] What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing. You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us. [Dean, after what happened to Mom...Dad did the best he could.] I know he did. But maybe he wasn’t perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things—and man, I hate them. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn’t even think about it. Hell, I even enjoyed it. [You didn’t kill Lenore.] No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill them all. (40:20)

Sam—

[Gordon: Well, lighten up a little, Sammy!] He's the only one that gets to call me that. (15:05)

4. CHILDREN SHOULDN’T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS

Dean—

Going to visit Mom’s grave? She doesn’t even have a grave. There was no body left after the fire. [Sam: She has a headstone.] Yeah, put up by our uncle, a man that we’ve never even met. So you wanna go pay resects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on. [Dean, that’s not the point.] Well, them enlighten me, Sam. [It’s not about a body or a casket. It’s about her memory, okay? And after Dad, it just—it just feels like the right thing to do.] It’s irrational, is what it is. [Look, man, no one asked you to come.] Why don’t we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven’t heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son-of-a-bitch down. [That’s a good idea! You should! Just drop me off, I’ll hitch a ride, and I’ll meet you there tomorrow.] Right. Stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you show up. No thanks. (02:48)

[Sam: Look, maybe you’re imagining a hunt where there isn’t one, so you don’t have to think about Mom, or Dad. You wanna take another swing? Go ahead, if it’ll make you feel better.] I don’t need this crap. [Dean, where are you going?] I’m gonna go get a drink. Alone. (09:59)

Look, I get it. Okay? There are people that I would give anything to see again, but what gives you the right? [Sam: Dean.] [Dr. Mason: What are you talking about?] What’s dead should stay dead! (20:51)

[Sam: Dean, I don’t scare easy, but, man, you’re scaring the crap out of me.] Don’t be overdramatic, Sam. [You’re lucky this turned out to be a real case, ‘cause if it wasn’t, you would’ve just found something else to kill. You’re on edge, you’re erratic, except for when you’re hunting, ‘cause then you’re downright scary. You’re tailspinning, man! And you refuse to talk about it, and you won’t let me help you.] I can take care of myself, thanks. [No, you can’t! And you know what? You’re the only one who thinks you should have to. You don’t have to handle this on your own, Dean. No one can.] (21:44)

I’m sorry. [Sam: For what?] The way I’ve been acting. And for Dad. Well, he was your dad, too. It’s my fault that he’s gone. [What are you talking about?] I know you’ve been thinking it. So have I. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I had a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later, Dad’s dead and the Colt’s gone. [Dean....] You can’t tell me there’s not a connection there. I don’t know how the demon was involved, I don’t know how the whole thing went down exactly, but Dad’s dead because of me, and that much I do know. [We don’t know that, not for sure.] Sam, you and Dad, you’re the most important people in my life. And now...I never should’ve come back, Sam, it wasn’t natural, and now look what’s come of it. I was dead, and I should’ve stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. So tell me, what could you possibly say to make that alright? (38:56)

Sam—

[Dean: Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave. There was no body left after the fire.] She has a headstone. [Yeah, put up by our uncle, a man that we've never even met. So you wanna go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on.] Dean, that's not the point. [Well, then, enlighten me, Sam.] It's not about a body or a casket. It's about her memory, okay? And after Dad, it just—it just feels like the right thing to do. (02:48)

You're tailspinning, man. And you refuse to talk about it, and you won't let me help you. [Dean: I can take care of myself, thanks.] No, you can't! And you know what? You're the only one who thinks you should have to. You don't have to handle this on your own, Dean. No one can. [Sam, if you bring up Dad's death one more time, I swear—] Please, Dean, it's killing you. Please. We've already lost Dad. We lost Mom. I've lost Jessica. And now I'm gonna lose you, too? (21:44)

5. SIMON SAID

Dean—

You know, one day I’d love to just sit down and eat something that I didn’t have to microwave at a minimart. (18:03)

[Sam: You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You’re just as scared of this as I am.] That was mind control! It’s like—it’s like being roofied, man. That doesn’t count. [What?] No, I—I’m calling do-over. [What are you, 7?] Doesn’t matter. Look, we just gotta keep doing what we’re doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it. (36:06)

Sam—

[Dean: There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if—if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?] So I'm a freak now? [You've always been a freak.] (04:14)

Demon came to them when they were kids. Now they're killing people. [Dean: We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, okay? Could be innocent.] My visions haven't been wrong yet! [What's your point?] My point is, I'm one of them. [No, you're not.] Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me. [Yeah?] Yeah, maybe this is his plan. Maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks. Maybe we're all supposed to be— [Killers?] Yeah. [So the demon wants you out there, killing with your minds, is that it? Oh, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones!] No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things. [Those things were asking for it. There's a difference.] (10:47)

Looks like I was right. [Dean: About what?] Andy. He's a killer after all. [No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life. He saved my life.] Bottom line, last night he wasted somebody. [Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was just—he was pushed into that.] Webber was pushed, too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death. [What's your point, Sam?] Right circumstances, everyone is capable of murder. Everyone. (35:28)

6. NO EXIT

Dean—

[Jo: You know, I’ve had it up to here with your crap.] Excuse me? [Your chauvinist crap. You think women can’t do the job.] Sweetheart, this ain’t gender studies. Women can do the job fine. Amateurs can’t. You got no experience! What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantic notions that some barfly has put in your head. [And now you sound like my mother.] Oh, and that’s a bad thing? (09:56)

Jo, you got options. No on in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young. I wish I could do something else. [Jo: You love the job.] Yeah, but I’m a little twisted. [You don’t think I’m a little twisted, too?] Jo, you got a mother that worries about you, who wants something more for you. Those are good things. You don’t throw things like that away. They might be hard to find later. (10:24)

[Jo: What do you remember about your dad? I mean, what’s the first thing that pops into your head? Come on, tell me.] I was 6 or 7, and uh...he took me shooting for the first time. Bottles on a fence—that kind of things. I bull’s-eyed every one of them. And he would smile, like...I don’t know. [He must have been proud.] (16:13)

Sam—

Is this job as glamorous as you thought it would be? [Jo: Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. But that Theresa girl’s gonna live a life ‘cause of us. It’s worth it, isn’t it?] Yeah. Yeah, it is. (36:00)

Misc—

Ellen: I am your mother! I don't have to be reasonable! (03:06)

7. THE USUAL SUSPECTS

Dean—

My name is Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women. (21:59)

[Sam: Nice lady.] Yeah, for a cop. (41:19)

Sam—

[Diana: Then about a year ago, there was a fire in your apartment. One fatality—Jessica Moore, your girlfriend. After she died, you fell off the grid—left behind everything.] I needed some time off...to deal. So I’m taking a road trip with my brother. (03:49)

[Dean: What do you think, Scully?] I’m not Scully, you’re Scully. [No, I’m Mulder. You’re a red-headed woman.] (06:35)

8. CROSSROAD BLUES

Dean—

[Sam: We got to find out if anyone else struck any bargains around here.] Great. So we got to clean up these people’s mess for them? I mean, they’re not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play “Let’s Make a Deal.” [So what, we should just leave them to die?] Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in to try to save them? [Dean.] Alright. Fine. (14:44)

[Demon: You’d sacrifice your life for someone else’s. Like father, like son. (29:01) 

[Demon: I’m not gonna put you out of your misery.] Yeah? Why not? [’Cause your misery is the whole point. It’s too much to watch. Knowing how your daddy died for you, how he sold his soul—I mean, that’s got to hurt. He’s all you ever think about. You wake up and your first thought is, “I can’t do this anymore.” You’re all lit up with pain. I mean, you loved him so much. And it’s all your fault. You blew it, Dean! I could’ve given you what you need.] What do I need? [Your father.] (30:36)

How could he do it? [Sam: He did it for you.] Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that? (38:14)

Sam—

How many people do you think Dad saved total? [Dean: That's not the point, Sam.] Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That's his legacy, Dean. Now we're still here, man, so we got to keep going. For him. (38:48)

Misc—

George: Listen, I get that you boys want to help, but sometimes a person makes their bed and they just got to lie down in it. (17:38)

9. CROATOAN

Dean—

Hey, look, man, I’m not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job, and you know that. [Sam: It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this. That's the whole point.] What does that buy us? [A clear conscience, for one.] Well, it's too late for that. [What the hell has happened to you?] What? [You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care. You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what, you're acting like one of those things out there.] (25:40)

[Sam: Go with them. This is your only chance.] Ah, you're not gonna get rid of me that easy. (31:17)

[Sam: Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you.] No—[No, you can keep going.] Who says I want to? [What?] I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life, this weight on my shoulders, man, I'm tired of it. [So what, so you're just gonna give up? I mean, you're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad had—] You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure— [Then what is it about?] (32:54)

I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we got to get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit? [Why are you saying all this? No no no no no, Dean. You're my brother, alright? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit.] I can't. I promised. [Who?] Dad. (39:23)

Sam—

[Dean: Hey, look, man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job, and you know that.] It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this. That's the whole point. [What does that buy us?] A clear conscience, for one. (25:40)

You're my brother, alright? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit. (39:38)

10. HUNTED

Dean—

He said that he...wanted me to watch out for you. Take care of you. [Sam: He told you that a million times.] Well, this time was different. He said that I had to...save you. [Save me from what?] He just said that I had to save you, and nothing else mattered and that if I couldn't, I'd.... [You'd what, Dean?] I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy. (04:10)

[Sam: How could you not have told me this?] Because it was Dad and he begged me not to. [Who cares? Take some responsibility for yourself Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!] You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day! (05:05)

And you're pissed at me, and I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay? [Sam: Forget it.] Sam, please, man. Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here. Please, please. (06:12)

Come on, Ellen, please. Something bad could be going on here, and I swore I'd look after that kid. [Ellen: They say you can't protect your loved ones forever. Well, I say screw that. What else is family for?] (17:27)

Come on, man. I know Sam, okay? Better than anyone. He's got more of a conscience than I do. I mean, the guy feels guilty surfing the internet for porn. [Gordon: Maybe you're right, but one day, he's gonna be a monster.] How? Huh? How's a guy like Sam become a monster? [Beats me, but he will.] No, you don't know that! [I'm surprised at you, Dean. Getting all emotional. I'd heard you were more of a professional than this.] (29:15)

[Gordon: Look, I'm sympathetic. He's your brother, you love the guy. This has got to hurt like hell for you. But here's the thing. It would've wrecked him, but your dad, if it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. So you're telling me, you're not the man he is?] (30:24)

Screw the job. Screw it, man. I'm sick of the job anyway. I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get's bad luck. [Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you're meant to do.] Oh, I wasn't meant to do anything. I don't believe in that destiny crap. (39:00)

[Sam: You can't run from this, and you can't protect me.] I can try. (39:27)

Sam—

[Dean: He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy.] Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean? [I don't know.] I mean, he must've had some kind of reason for saying it, right? I mean, did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go dark side or something? What else did he say, Dean? [That's it, I swear.] How could you not have told me this? [Because it was Dad and he begged me not to.] Who cares? Take some responsibility for yourself Dean! You had no right to keep this from me! (04:46)

[Ellen: I wish I could blame the hell out of you boys. It'd be easier. Truth is, it's not your fault. Sam, none of it is.] (10:27)

[Gordon: You wouldn't shoot me, would you, Sammy? 'Cause your brother, he thinks you're some kind of saint.] Yeah, well, I wouldn't be so sure. (33:46)

[Gordon: You're no better than the filthy things you hunt.] *They tussle, Sam points a gun at him.* [Do it. Do it! Show your brother the killer you really are, Sammy.] It's Sam. (34:22)

I'm not gonna just ditch the job. (39:00)

[Dean: Oh, I wasn't meant to do anything. I don't believe in that destiny crap.] You mean you don't believe in my destiny. [Whatever.] Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this, and you can't protect me. [I can try.] Thanks for that. Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. I mean, whatever's coming, I'm taking it head on, so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around. (39:13)

11. PLAYTHINGS

Dean—

[Sam: We gotta save as many people as we can.] Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me. I'm officially uncomfortable now, thank you. (05:16)

[Sam: I need you to watch out for me.] Yeah, I always do. [No no no no, you have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...you have to kill me.] Sam.... [Dean, Dad told you to do it. You have to.] Yeah, well, Dad's an ass. He never should've said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't—you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids. [No, he was right to say it. Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies.] Yeah, well, I'm not dying. Okay? And neither are you. Come on, sit down. [No. Please. Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise.] Don't ask that of me. (16:18)

[Sherwin: Well, would you be [happy], leaving the only home you ever knew?] I don't know. I never really knew one. (19:06)

Sam—

I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out. [Dean: You did?] Yeah. You seem surprised. [Yeah, it's just, you know. Not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?] What way is that? [Just figured after Ava, there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows. I'll shut up now.] (04:27)

So I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not gonna let other people die, either. We gotta save as many people as we can. (05:09)

That guy who hung himself...I couldn't save him. [Dean: What are you talking about? You didn't know. You couldn't have done anything.] That's an excuse, Dean. I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava, too. [Yeah, well, you can't save everyone. Even you said that.] No, Dean, you don't understand, alright? The more people I save, the more I can change. [Change what?] My destiny, Dean. (15:46)

I need you to watch out for me. [Dean: Yeah, I always do.] No no no no, you have to watch out for me, alright? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...you have to kill me. [Dean: Sam....] Dean, Dad told you to do it. You have to. [Yeah, well, Dad's an ass. He never should've said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't—you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids.] No, he was right to say it. Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies. [Yeah, well, I'm not dying. Okay? And neither are you. Come on, sit down.] No. Please. Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise. [Don't ask that of me.] Dean, please. You have to promise me. [I promise.] Thanks. Thank you. (16:18)

12. NIGHTSHIFTER

Dean—

Freaking cops. [Sam: They were just doing their job.] No, they’re doing our job, only they don’t know it, so they suck at it. (03:36)

[Henriksen: I know about your dad.] You don't know crap about my dad. [Ex-Marine, raised his kids on the road, cheap motels, backwood cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of wacko he was— white supremist, Timmy McVeigh, tomato, tomahto.] You got no right talking about my dad like that. He was a hero. [Yeah, right. Sure sounds like it.] (31:18)

Sam—

[Dean: When you told that poor son of a bitch to—what did you say?—”remand” the tapes that he copied? “Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation”? That’s messed up.] What, are you pissed at me? [No, I just think it’s a little creepy how good of a Fed you are.] (08:51)

Better to stay in the dark and stay alive. (08:51)

13. HOUSES OF THE HOLY

Dean—

Odd, yes. Supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so. [Sam: Why not?] 'Cause there's no such thing, Sam. [Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted.] Hey, you know what, there's a ton of lore on unicorns, too. In fact, I hear that they ride on silver moonbeams and they shoot rainbows outta their ass. [Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?] That's cute. I'm just saying, man, there's some legends that you just file under “bullcrap.” [And you got angels on the ”bullcrap” list.] Yep. [Why?] 'Cause I've never seen one. [So what?] So I believe in what I can see. [Dean, you and I have seen things most people couldn't even dream about.] Exactly. With our own eyes—that's hard proof, okay? But in all this time, I have never seen anything that looks like an angel. And don't you think that if they existed that we would've crossed paths with them, or at least know someone that crossed paths with them? (06:17)

You know what? I get it. You've got faith. That's—hey, good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier. I'll tell you who else had faith like that. Mom. She used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me. [You never told me that.] What's to tell? She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her. There's no higher power. There's no God. I mean, there's just chaos and violence and random, unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds. You want me to believe in this stuff? I'm gonna need to see some hard proof. You got any? (23:09)

Sam—

[Dean: What's next? Are you gonna start praying everyday?] I do. [What?] I do pray every day. I have for a long time. (19:50)

I wanted to believe. So badly. It's so damn hard to do this, what we do, all alone, you know? There's so much evil out in the world, Dean, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up.... [Dean: Yeah, well, don't worry about that, alright? I'm watching out for you.] Yeah, I know you are. But you're just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else watching, too, you know? Some higher power, some greater good. And maybe.... [Maybe what?] Maybe I could be saved. But, you know, that just clouded my judgement. And you're right. I mean, we got to go with what we know, with what we can see, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes. (37:54)

14. BORN UNDER A BAD SIGN

Dean—

[Meg!Sam: Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?] I don't know, all right? But you're...you're okay, and that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with. (02:51)

Sam, go wait in the car. [Meg!Sam: But, Dean—] Go wait in the car! (06:40)

What's going on with you, Sam, hm? 'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean that sounds more like me than you. (07:51)

You know, I've tried so hard to keep you safe. [Meg!Sam: I know.] I can't. I'd rather die. [No. You'll live.] (15:53)

[Meg!Sam: What the hell's wrong with you, Dean? Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let Jo die?] (25:53)

This is my fight. I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be. (31:28)

[Meg!Sam: Dean. Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach. (34:13)

[Meg!Sam: All that I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day and that I was gonna torture you, nice and slow, like pulling the wings off an insect. But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your dad, and deep down, you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you.] (37:21)

[Sam: No matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot.] It was the right move, Sam, it wasn't you. [Yeah, this time. What about next time?] Sam, when Dad told me that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna save you. (41:01)

Sam—

For the last few weeks, I've been having...I've been having these feelings. [Dean: What feelings?] Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse. [You never told me this.] I didn't want to scare you. (13:52)

[Dean: No one can control you but you.] Sure doesn't seem like that, Dean. It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely, I'm—I'm just becoming— [What?] Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself, Dean, I got to face up to who I am. (14:29)

I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt you. [Dean: You won't. Whatever this is, you can fight it.] No. I can't. Not forever. (15:16)

My head feels like it's on fire, alright? (25:21)

Misc: 

Meg: Hell is like, uh...well, it's like hell. Even for demons. It's a prison made of bone and flesh and blood and fear. (36:42)

15. TALL TALES

Dean—

[Bobby: Come on, now, you're bickering like an old married couple.] No, see, married couples can get divorced. Me and him? We're like, uh, Siamese twins. [Sam: It's conjoined twins.] See what I mean? [Look, it...we've just been on the road for too long, tight quarters, all that.] (11:19) 

[Sam: Dude, you know something? I put up with a lot from you.] What are you talking about? I'm a joy to be around. [Yeah? Your dirty socks in the sink, your food in the fridge?] What's wrong with my food? [It's not food anymore, Dean! It's Darwinism!] I like it. [And you know what? All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff!] You done? [You know, how would you feel if I screwed with the Impala?] It'd be the last thing you ever did. (21:15)

Sam—

Dude, you know something? I put up with a lot from you. [What are you talking about? I'm a joy to be around.] Yeah? Your dirty socks in the sink, your food in the fridge? [What's wrong with my food?] It's not food anymore, Dean! It's Darwinism! [I like it.] And you know what? All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff! (21:15)

16. ROADKILL

Dean—

You know, just once I'd like to round the corner and see a nice house. (16:14)

Me? I don't like [spirits]. And I sure as hell ain't making apologies for 'em. (20:08)

[Molly: Oh, thank God.] Call me Dean. (28:46)

Sam—

Spirits like Greeley are, uh...like wounded animals. Lost, in so much pain, that they lash out. [Molly: Why? Why are they here?] Well, there's some part of them that...that's keeping them here, like their remains, or um...unfinished business. [Unfinished business....] Yeah, uh, could be revenge. Could be love. Or hate. Whatever it is, they just hold on too tight. Can't let go. So they're trapped, caught in the same loops. Replaying the same tragedies over and over. [You sound almost sorry for them.] Well, they weren't evil people, you know? A lot of them were good, just...something happened to them. Something they couldn't control. (18:52)

[Dean: You think she's really going to a better place?] I hope so. [I guess we'll never know. Not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?] Doesn't really matter, Dean. Hope's kind of the whole point. (38:23)

17. HEART

Dean—

[Sam: Dean, could you be a bigger geek about this?] I'm sorry, man, but what about a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight don't you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven't seen one since we were kids. (04:39)

[Sam: You go. I'll stay.] Forget that. You go after the creepy ex. I'm gonna hang here with the hot chick. [Dude, why do you always get to hang out with the girls?] 'Cause I'm older. [No, screw that. We settle this the old-fashioned way.] *Dean throws scissors while Sam throws rock.* [Dean, always with the scissors!] Shut up, shut up. Two out of three. *Dean throws scissors while Sam throws rock.* God! [Bundle up out there, all right?] (11:11]

Sammy, I got this one. I'll do it. [Sam: She asked me to.] You don't have to. (38:56)

Sam—

I'm not putting a bullet through some girl's chest who has no idea what's happening. [Dean: Sam, she's a monster and you're feeling sorry for her?] Maybe I understand her. (21:26)

18. HOLLYWOOD BABYLON

Dean—

[Sam: You know, I thought you hated being a PA.] I don’t know, it’s not so bad. I kind of feel like part of the team, you know? It’s good. (19:22)

Hey, we got to go check out Johnny Ramone’s grave when we’re gone here. [Sam: You want to go dig him up, too?] Bite your tongue, heathen! (23:25)

[Marty: He wrote a wackjob screenplay. There’s no pace, there’s no love interest. It’s all wackadoo exposition. I had to cut, like, 90 percent of it to make it readable, another 10 percent to make it good.] ...Should have kept Walter’s original script. It’s actually pretty good. (31:15)

Sam—

[Dean: I just figured that, you know, after everything that happened with Madison, you could use a little R&R, that’s all.] Maybe I want to work, Dean. Maybe it keeps my mind off things. (05:38)

19. FOLSOM PRISON BLUES

Dean—

Innocent people are dead—four, so far. [Sam: Yeah, innocent.] What, are you from Texas all of a sudden? Just 'cause these people are in jail doesn't mean they deserve to die. And if we don't stop this thing, people are gonna continue to die. We do the job wherever it takes us. (11:30)

[Sam: You're doing this for Deacon?] Damn right. [We barely even know the guy.] We know he was in the Corps with Dad. We know he saved Dad's life. We know we owe him. [Yeah, all right, but don't you think he's asking a little much?] Doesn't matter. We may not be saints, but we're loyal and we pay our debts. Now, that means something to me, and it ought to to you. (11:47)

[Sam: Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?] No, not really. (28:07)

Sam—

I hate this plan, Dean. [Dean: yeah, I got that the first ten times I heard it.] (05:12)

This is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we’ve ever done, and that’s in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy. (10:58)

20. WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE

Dean—

When I was a kid, what did you always tell me when you put me to bed? [Mary: Dean, I don't understand—] Just answer the question. [I told you angels were watching over you.] (07:05)

Who'd have thought, Baby? We're civilians. (11:42)

That lawn looks like it could use some mowing. [Mary: You want to mow the lawn?] You kidding me? I'd love to mow the lawn. [Knock yourself out. You'd think you've never mowed a lawn in your life.] (13:08)

[Sam: I mean this whole warm, fuzzy, ecstasy-trip thing.] I'm just happy for you, Sammy. [Yeah, right. That's another thing. Since when do you call me “Sammy?” Dean, come on. We don't talk outside of holidays.] We don't? Well, we should. I mean, you're my brother. [”You're my brother?”] Yeah! [You know, that's what you said when you snaked my ATM card, or when you bailed on my graduation, or when you hooked up with Rachel Nave.] Who? [My prom date, on prom night.] Yeah, that does kinda sound like me. Well, hey, man, I'm sorry about all that. [No, look, it's all right, man, I just...you know, I'm not asking you to change, I just.... I don't know, I guess we just don't really have anything in common. You know?] Wait, whoa whoa whoa, yes we do. Yes we do. [What?] Hunting. [Hunting? I've never been hunting in my life, Dean.] Yeah, well, then we should go sometime. I think you'd be great at it. (17:51)

I can fix things with Sam. I can make it up to him. To everyone. [Carmen: Okay. What's gotten into you lately?] This isn't gonna make a lick of sense to you...but I kind of feel like I've been given a second chance. And I don't want to waste it. (19:58)

And there's this woman that's haunting me, I don't know why. I don't know what the connection is—not yet, anyway. It's like my old life is coming after me or something, you know, like it doesn't want me to be happy. Of course, I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball, but you'd say, "Go hunt the djinn. It put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness or all those people's lives, no contest." Right? But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? What about us, huh? What, Mom's not supposed to live her life? Sammy's not supposed to get married? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad? (23:14)

I'm sorry that we don't get along. And I wish to hell I could stay and fix it. But I gotta do this. People's lives depend on it. (26:07)

[Djinn!Sam: Why'd you have to keep digging? Why couldn't you have left well-enough alone? You were happy.] [Djinn!Mary: Put the knife down, honey.] You're not real. None of it is. [It doesn't matter. It's still better than anything you had.] What? [It's everything you want. We're a family again. Let's go home.] I'll die. The djinn will drain the life out of me in a couple days. [But in here, with us, it'll feel like years, like a lifetime. I promise. No more pain, no more fear. Just love and comfort and safety. Dean, stay with us. Get some rest.] [Djinn!Jessica: You don't have to worry about Sam anymore. You get to watch him live a full life.] [Djinn!Carmen: We can have a future together, have our own family. I love you, Dean. Please.] [Djinn!Sam: Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough? I'm begging you. Give me the knife.] I'm sorry. (34:47)

I gotta tell you, though, man, you know, you had Jess. Mom was gonna have grandkids. [Sam: Yeah, but Dean, it wasn't real.] I know. But I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay so bad. I mean, ever since Dad....all I can—all I can think about it how much this job has cost us. We've lost so much. And we've sacrificed so much. (40:43)

Sam—

[Dean: Get out of the car.] I'm going with you. [You're just gonna slow me down.] Tough. [This is dangerous and you could get hurt.] Yeah, and so could you, Dean. [Sam—] Look, whatever stupid thing you're about to do, you're not doing it alone, and that's that. [I don't understand, why are you doing this?] Because you're still my brother. [Bitch.] What are you calling me a bitch for? [You're supposed to say jerk.] What? [Nevermind.] (27:07)

Well, I'm glad we do [get along]. And I'm glad you dug yourself out, Dean. Most people wouldn't have had the strength. They would've just stayed. (40:25)

[Dean: We've lost so much. And we've sacrificed so much.] But people are alive because of you, Dean. It's worth it, it is. It's not fair, and, you know, it hurts like hell, but it's worth it. (41:24)

21. ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE, PART I

Dean—

I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take care of you. I got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother. (39:32)

Sam—

[Jake: By the way, I, uh, appreciate what you're doing here.] What am I doing? [Keeping calm, keeping them calm. Especially considering how freaked to hell you really are. I've been in some deep crap before myself. I know the look.] Want to know the truth? I got this brother, right? And he's always telling me how he's gonna watch out for me, how everything's gonna be okay, you know, kinda like I've been telling them. [Yeah.] I don't know if I believe it this time. (22:56)

22. ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE, PART II

Dean—

[Bobby: Don't you think maybe it's time...we bury Sam?] No. [We could maybe....] What? Torch his corpse? Not yet. [I want you to come with me.] I'm not going anywhere. [Dean, please.] Would you cut me some slack? [I just don't think you should be alone, that's all. I gotta admit, I could use your help. Something big is going down—end-of-the-world big!] Well, then let it end! [You don't mean that.] You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough? I'm done with it. All of it. (02:16)

You know, when we were little, when you couldn't have been more than five, you just started asking questions. How come we didn't have a mom, why do we always have to move around, where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you, "Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don't want to know." I just wanted you to be a kid, just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you, keep you safe. Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I have one job—I had one job. And I screwed it up. I blew it. And for that, I'm sorry. I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. And now I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, too? How can I? How am I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do? Sammy. What am I supposed to do? (06:27)

That's the same deal you give everybody else. [Demon: You're not everybody else. Why would I want to give you anything? Keep your gutter soul. It's too tarnished, anyway.] (11:08)

You almost died in there. I mean, what would I have.... You just take care of yourself for a little bit, huh? Just for a little bit. (16:37)

Which is why we gotta find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch. That's why I'm gonna kill him myself. I mean, I got nothing to lose now, right? (19:00)

[Bobby: What is it with you Winchesters, huh? You, your dad—you're both just itching to throw yourselves down the pit.] (19:18)

Dad brought me back, Bobby, I'm not even supposed to be here. At least this way, something good could come out of it, you know? It's like my life can mean something. [Bobby: What? And it didn't before? Have you got that low an opinion of yourself? Are you that screwed in the head?] I couldn't let him die, Bobby. I couldn't. He's my brother. [How is your brother gonna feel when he knows you're going to Hell? How'd you feel when you knew your dad went for you?] You can't tell him. You take a shot at me, whatever you gotta do, but please don't tell him. (19:27)

[Azazel: You saw what your brother just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold, wasn't it? How certain are you that what you brought back is 100% pure Sam? You of all people should know that's what dead should stay dead. Anyway, thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway. I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family.] (32:23)

[Sam: You shouldn't have done that. How could you do that?] Don't get mad at me. Don't you do that. I had to. I had to look out for you. That's my job. (38:45)

Sam—

I kind of can't believe it, Dean. I mean... our whole lives, everything... has been prepping for this, and now I...I kind of don't know what to say. (36:35)

[Dean: I had to look out for you. That's my job.] And what do you think my job is? [What?] You saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change. (38:57)

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

When We Were Young (Part III)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here. 

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

2856 words

⚠️ Warning⚠️ this chapter is pretty dark.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack

You heard Dean's voice as you hid in the darkness.

"Ready or not! Here I come!"

You felt Sam shift next to you and heard his innocent little giggle of anticipation of being found by his big brother. You shushed him lightly with a smile to let him know you weren't serious. You didn't care if Dean found you two, if anything that meant you were in for a relentless tickle war between you and the young Winchesters, with loser buying the candy for movie night, meaning begging Bobby to pay for the candy. And you always won because little known fact, Dean's feet are ticklish and you always pinned him long enough for him to call "uncle."

Sam begged you and Dean to play ‘hide & seek,’ and though both of you claimed to be "too old for kid games," Sam's puppy dog eyes won you over. And you always won over Dean. He agreed to count first if you and him could play Mario later and you nodded, knowing you'd say yes to anything involving hanging out with Dean. John and your father had been gone about a week on their latest hunt, leaving you to entertain an 8 year old Sam and a moody 'almost' teenage Dean at Bobby’s house. You were almost 10 and stuck between wanting to be a kid like Sam, but wanting Dean's attention just as much. It honestly was a dilemma.

Dean smirked at your response and started counting and you and Sam took off running toward the upstairs of Bobby's house, tucking yourself deep into a bedroom closet under some old blanket. The perfect hiding place, if you kept totally quiet. Which Sam wasn't.

The perfect hiding place. Perfect hiding place. Hiding place... hide!

You were cowering under a blanket tucked deep in your foster parents’ bedroom, when you heard the giggling.

“Y/N!” Your older foster brother sing-songed, searching for you in the bedroom. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

After your father’s funeral, you jumped from foster home to foster home, always the only child, with too much attention from the foster parents. You began acting out for negative attention, and the agency decided it was a better fit to have you in a home with other kids. So you ended up with the Wilson family, which included their eldest Greg who was sixteen, and young Daniel, their newest foster. The thought of having brothers again was exciting, but you had been in this foster home for only 2 days when you woke up to Greg creeping into your room late one night. You tried to talk to your foster mom about it, but Greg was her biological son, and he could do no wrong in her eyes. She just giggled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and saying “boys will be boys.” The door to your bedroom opened every night for the next 7 nights and then your foster mom went on a weekend trip with your foster dad and left Greg to babysit you and young Daniel, who was only five.

The first day alone, when Greg agreed to ‘hide & seek’ Daniel squealed excitedly, and Greg wolf grinned at you, whispering for you to find a big area away from Daniel for you and him to have some fun. You shuddered in response, yanking Daniel by the hand up the stairs as you heard Greg start counting.

“Ready or not here I come!”

Daniel giggled in anticipation of his older brother finding him and you shushed him once angrily, watching as his eyes fell, no longer enjoying the game. It broke your heart to ruin Daniel’s fun, but this was no longer a game. And with Greg searching in the bedroom you were trapped.

Trapped.

With Sam and Dean blocking the exits you slid down the wall to a seated position pulling your legs up to your chest, curling yourself into a ball, as small as you could, hoping it would cause them to just lose interest like Greg did a few times, unable to unhook your arms from your legs.

Dean and Sam gave each other worried looks before Sam knelt down to your level careful not to touch you. Dean watched cautiously from the sidelines, realizing his reaction to the situation was more harmful than helpful. Sam was much better at getting through to people.

You were rocking back and forth slowly, humming “Sweet Caroline,” softly to yourself, realizing that it was so comforting because it was what Dean used to sing when he wanted to make you laugh. The “bum bum bum” part always threw you into a fit of giggles the more dramatic he performed it. Greg would always shout at you to shut up if he heard you humming it, during the darkest moments.

“Y/N? Sweetheart...?” Sam tried, careful to gauge your reaction to his voice. He attempted to keep his tone as calm and level as possible, but could feel his heart pounding, concern and worry at the situation coursing through him. You didn’t react to his voice, but he noticed you stopped humming, almost as if you were listening. He took that as a good sign.

“Sweetheart, how about you let me and Dean help you off the floor? You’re safe here, Y/N, we won’t hurt you.” You were nodding to yourself now and Sam didn’t know if it was in agreement or if you were reacting to something else entirely. He glanced up at Dean, seeing the worry etched across his features. Sam jumped when he heard your voice.

“Hey, Sammy?” You weren’t necessarily looking at him but your chin was resting on your arms now rather than hidden. Sam made sure to move slowly to face you again.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You cracked a small smile, glancing up into his eyes, which were a dark, almost navy blue. He’s worried, you thought to yourself. Mood ring eyes.

“Remember when you were probably around 8, and Dean was almost a teenager and John and my dad went on a hunt leaving us at Bobby’s?” It was asked as a question, but Sam merely nodded, unsure of where this was going. You had a smile on your face, lost in one of your favorite memories. “You convinced me to play ‘hide and seek,’ and I so wanted to tell you I didn’t wanna play any baby games. I wanted to look cool in front of Dean.” You chuckled to yourself and Sam smiled, looking at Dean, who was intensely listening, an unreadable look on his face.

“You had this way of convincing me to do things. It wasn’t your puppy dog eyes, though those helped too, but more your excitement of being around me and Dean. You just wanted to be around us and it was so annoying at the time.” You laughed again, looking at Sam who looked mildly offended, and you unballed yourself enough to place a hand on Sam’s arm. “But endearing.” You finished, watching Sam roll his eyes lightly and you retracted your hand, curling back up.

“You convinced me to play hide and seek and for some reason I was able to convince Dean...” You were deep in thought, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you gathered your thoughts and Sam and Dean didn’t dare interrupt you. “And me and you hid in the back of Bobby’s closet. The perfect hiding place.” You didn’t seem to be speaking to Sam and Dean anymore, but rather yourself as you fixed your stare on one of the bricks on the wall in front of you.

“I’ve hid in the back of a closet since then... but it wasn’t the perfect hiding spot that time.” You had tears in your eyes as you looked at Sam, who was still crouched down to your level. “It wasn’t perfect.” You repeated and Sam slowly reached out, placing his hand on your knee. You shifted slightly at his touch, but didn’t jerk away.

“Can I go back to sleep now?” You asked, looking into Sam’s steel grey eyes. They kept changing color but you were too tired to read them for emotion anymore.

“Of course...” Sam answered, waiting for your next move before making his.

“Can I sleep in your room?” You asked suddenly, lifting your head up to look at Dean for the first time since falling to the floor. Dean looked startled and unsure of what to say. Sam was starring daggers at his brother silently begging him to figure his shit out and fast. Dean cleared his throat and murmured “of course,” and you got to your feet walking in that direction, pausing at the door and waiting for Dean. Sam rose to his feet, and you waved shyly, as Dean ushered you into the room and closed the door.

——————

Behind closed doors, you were unsure of yourself again. The familiar smell of Dean’s bedroom cleared your head a bit and you panicked. What are you doing in here?!

“Uh,” Dean started, clearing his throat again, making you jump a little. “What side do you want to sleep on?” He questioned quietly, standing in your peripheral, and waiting for your answer. You pointed to the right side of the bed and he nodded climbing under the covers on the left and turning away from where you would lay. You took a deep breath and crawled into his bed. Dean clicked off his table lamp and bathed the room in darkness. You lay silently on your back, holding your breath trying to control the erratic pounding of your heart. Dean stirred lightly, turning to lay on his back as well. It was silent for a moment.

“I remember playing hide and seek that day.” Dean spoke quietly, unsure of himself in this moment. But you turned on your side to rest on your arm so you could look at him.

“Yeah?” You questioned, wanting to know what was on his mind. More and more you were unable to read this man like you could when you were kids and it was frustrating. He seemed almost as guarded as you were and you actually needed him to speak his mind to you.

He turned toward you mirroring your position. “Yeah, you and Sam were curled up under that musty old blanket in the back of Bobby’s closet. I remember I was so mad because I could hear Sam giggling but it sounded muffled so I thought it was coming from other rooms.” You smiled at the memory, watching Dean scrunch his eyebrows in concentration, trying to remember something that happened almost 15 years ago. Seeing your smile, Dean continued with his memory.

“I figured we would play ‘hide & seek’ for maybe half an hour to get Sam to leave us alone, and then spend the afternoon playing Mario, but we went back and forth hiding and seeking for the entire day. I think that’s the most I had ever hung out with my kid brother...” He smiled fondly at the memory.

“It was dark outside when I finally found you the last time in that tiny bathroom cabinet.” You snorted quietly, remembering how hard it was to squeeze yourself into that hiding place and you cursed the fact that you had begun growing hips and were filling out some.

Dean watched you as you filled in the rest of the memory for yourself with a smile on his face. He reached up slowly, moving a piece of hair from in front of your face to behind your ear, the pads of his fingers sliding carefully across your cheek, leaving your skin feeling hot. You closed your eyes at his touch, and his hand lingered at the back of your head, fingers softly curled in your hair.

You had a flash of hair pulling and a voice screaming at you to just listen and do what he wanted, and you jerked your head back, causing Dean to unintentionally pull your hair. You cried out softly, tears falling from your eyes, the memory lingering.

“Hey, hey, baby, it’s okay.” Dean whispered softly, as you inched yourself away from him. “I’m sorry.” He murmured, reaching out for you carefully. You resigned to your need for comfort and scooted into his open arms, letting him cradle you against his chest. Breathing in whiskey and leather, mixed with what you thought was vanilla, you pressed your hand against his heart, feeling it beat steadily against your palm. You attempted to match your breathing to his and waited for the silent tears to stop. Dean rubbed soothing circles against your back, and softly against your head where your hair had been pulled.

You didn’t know why, but between the safety of Dean’s arms and the security of the darkness, you spoke out loud what had been weighing on your soul for more than half your life.

“When my dad died, and John couldn’t get custody, I went into the system back in New Jersey. Honestly, it’s not quite as bad there as other states, and I actually was placed with some really cool people. I especially miss the man I was with who was clearly gay, that taught me how to perfect the smokey eye look.” You chuckled, and you felt the rumble in Dean’s chest as he murmured along, his hands continuing to comfort you in any way that he could.

“As I went from home to home I got sick of all the attention. Most people were nice, and I had everything I needed, but I don’t know, I missed the drama. And I missed sharing my dad with the hunt. It sounds backwards, but we tried so hard to fit big moments into small amounts of time and that made those moments so much more special. The everyday wasn’t appealing anymore.” You felt Dean’s head nod, not wanting to interrupt you, but let you know he understood nonetheless.

“Anyway, when I started acting out, they decided I needed to go to a home with other kids to level me out. Or knock me down a peg, who knows. I was placed with a couple that had a sixteen-year-old son and were fostering a five year old. I was thrilled because instantly I thought of you and Sam...” You glanced up into Dean’s cool green eyes guiltily. He only smiled, urging you to continue.

“Things were okay to start. Back to normal life, but the sixteen-year-old Greg, was moody and would act out and I liked the drama he created. And I liked him. He was what you would probably consider ‘emo’ today, with long dark hair and a lip ring. I followed him around the first day or so, like I used to do with you, just curious how he spent his days. And I don’t know maybe I led him on...”

Dean’s grip tensed as you trailed off, and he tilted your chin so you could look him in the eye. A silent tear slipped down your cheek, and you saw anger flash behind the forest green of his irises before he swiped at the tear with the pad of his thumb. You couldn’t stand seeing his reaction, but you had gone too far to stop now.

“He started sneaking into my bedroom at night, but because his parents were home, he couldn’t exactly do what he wanted. But it didn’t matter because I told his mom and she didn’t care... thankfully he didn’t find that out.” You could feel how tense Dean was getting and his hands stopped moving across your back, but you had to get this out. Had to confess to someone what happened.

“My foster parents left me and the five year old, Daniel, alone for a whole weekend with Greg. I still remember how excited he looked and how he wouldn’t stop staring at me as they told us the plans over dinner. The weekend came and Daniel was in a mood. Wanted us to play with him and I made sure to keep him entertained while Greg brooded about, not able to do what he wanted. When Daniel suggested ‘hide and seek,’ Greg jumped on the opportunity, telling me to hide away from Daniel and we’d finally have our time. I clung to Daniel and rushed to find a hiding spot. The perfect hiding spot...” You glanced at Dean and saw the pieces of the night click into place.

“I shoved Daniel into the upstairs closet covering him with a blanket and was about to hide with him when I thought of a better idea. My foster dad had a gun safe and my dad taught me how to break into those early on. I grabbed the Glock and waited in the closet under the blanket with Daniel.” You tensed, anticipating the conclusion of the story and suddenly afraid of how Dean would react to what you were about to say. You took a deep breath before speaking. 

“And when Greg opened the closet door and pulled back the blanket, I emptied the clip into his chest.”

When We Were Young Tag List: @vicmc624​

Read part IV here.

[talesmaniac89]

The Classifieds

Pairing: Past Dean x Reader 

Summary: What lengths will Dean Winchester go to when he runs out of options to save the people he cares about? Is he willing to let go of a part of himself to save his family?

Triggers: Hurt, Coma, possible loss/death, open ending, no resolution, angst, No happy endings here guys. This is just angst for the sake of angst.

For sale: 1967 Chevrolet Impala

Lovingly restored black ‘67 Impala needs a new home. This 327 four-barrel beauty comes with a newly installed 502 Big Block 550 Horsepower Engine to give you that extra bit of push. Though it has a mileage of over 600,000 miles travelled, this beauty runs like new after several full fixups, constant servicing and a lot of TLC. Registration is up to date as of January this year. 

With its souped-up engine, new paint job and fresh set of tires, this baby looks like it just rolled off of the assembly line. Both the exterior and interior of the car have received a near perfect restoration with a few small exceptions; there’s a green army man toy stuck in the ashtray, a few Lego pieces are rattling in the vent when you turn on the heat, and there’s a small carving in the rear window sill. These are all minor interior flaws that can easily be fixed by the buyer.

I’ll share details like the VIN, classic car ID and answer any other questions directly to any prospective buyers.

She’s been with us since ‘73, and never let us down. Baby’s part of our family, and we’re sad to let her go, but I’m hoping the new owner will love her as much as I have.

Price: Best offer

---

Taking a shaky breath, Dean held back the tears that burned in his eyes, blurring his vision as he read through the classified ad one last time before motioning to hit send. His finger shook over the enter key as he squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice.

Baby meant a lot to him, of course she did. But she was only a car, and if he didn’t let her go, then he could end up losing so much more. Selling the Impala was his only choice.

He needed money. A lot of money. For (Y/N) and Sammy. Their last hunt in Chicago had landed them both in separate hospital beds after prolonged contact with a djinn, and they weren’t waking up. Even after Dean killed the fucking monster that had them trapped, they both remained unresponsive, and they were fading fast. Only kept alive by modern science and a team of hardworking doctors and nurses.

Still, Dean was in the business of saving people. And if ganking another monster of the week wasn’t gonna cut it, then he’d do whatever else he needed to do to fix this. He wouldn’t let his little brother, or the woman he loved more than life itself, die in that hospital. He couldn’t lose them, either of them.

But, their stay and continued treatment required money. More money than he had. More money than he could ever hope to get from his measly collection of fake credit cards, poker games and hustling some poor fool at the local dive bar.

Which was why he was balancing Sammy’s computer on his lap as he sat, defeated, on one of the uncomfortably hard waiting room chairs. One finger hovering over the enter button as he tried to breathe through the growing lump in his throat and the helpless panic lodged in his chest. Either way, he’d lose something. But this way he’d save his family; the only goddamn good thing left in his life.

Swallowing down the bitter defeat, he let his finger press into the enter key with a little more force than necessary. Sending his ad in to the classifieds with nothing more than a dry, low sob goodbye.

Dean would scrounge up every damned cent needed to keep his family alive. Even if it meant selling the only home the Winchester brothers had ever really had.

Because the Impala was their only real home, more so than the bunker could ever hope to be. Yet, what was a home without people to live in it? If he lost his family, then the bunker, the Impala, or any other place he tried to run away to would just be a coffin. Somewhere to lie broken, bruised and defeated as he waited for the world to catch up and realise his heart stopped beating the day that fucking djinn landed Sam and (Y/N) in that hospital bed.

“Goodbye Baby… I’m sorry,”

---

“…Winchester?”

Someone was calling his name, but Dean was too far gone to listen. His red rimmed eyes stayed laser focused on the online listing. Dry and burning after minutes spent staring unblinkingly at the picture of his Baby that topped the ad. The picture was just one of many, the first he could find without Sam or her in it, but it still meant so much to him.

In it he could see every single moment he’d spent behind the wheel of that car.

He could see nights spent by (Y/N)’s side, stargazing on Baby’s hood. His hand painting patterns on her bare arm as they just… Existed together, not talking or hunting, just living. Her head resting on his shoulder as he whispered promises of forever into her (Y/H/C) hair.

He relived every time she’d helped him fix his Baby back up, handing him his tools with that tempting sheen of moisture trapped against her neck and collarbone from the heat of the Kansas sun. Endless drives, with Sam calling shotgun; using his longer legs to his advantage and leaving the fiercest huntress Dean knew in the dust while she grumbled about deserving a front seat view for once.

He could feel the steady and safe vibration of the steering wheel under his fingers and heard her singing along to his mixtapes. Her head leaned back and (Y/H/C) hair moving slightly in the small breeze from the open window. (Y/E/C) eyes hidden behind closed eyelids and a small lazy smile, just barely visible through the rear-view mirror.

That one picture, topping the classifieds ad, held it all; every moment on the road so far. And there’d been many. More than he could ever hope to count.

From the desperate rushed rescue missions and races against the clock, to the lazier road trips after a fight well fought. The easy drives would always be his favourite moments. Just sunshine, warming the air around him as he drove his family back to the bunker. Safe in the knowledge that he’d kept them all out of harm’s way once more.

He’d spent so many long days on the road, he could picture it all perfectly. Even in the pixelated picture of an empty car. (Y/N) would be lounging in the backseat, humming along to his music. Stretched across the leather seats as Sam tried to talk both Dean and her into agreeing to change the classic rock music blaring through the speakers with a podcast or audio book. Giving his all to another convincing argument, fit for the former Stanford student, and still failing miserably every time.

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole,”

Dean flinched slightly at the sound of his own voice. He hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. Even the cracked, whispered version that left him. Yet, as soon as the words were out, he could nearly hear the echo of Sammy’s quipped “Jerk” in response to the golden rule. Barely catching the ghost of it with a trembling, empty smile before it was crushed under the louder sound of cold professionalism above him.

“Mr. Winchester?” The doctor repeated, sounding slightly annoyed at his lack of response and waving the papers in front of her as she waited for him to take them from her. The admission forms.

There were two of them. One for each of the two people he loved more than life itself. Lying in separate hospital rooms, only kept alive by machines and wires. Alive, but not really living, for as long as he had money to keep funding those fragile lifelines.

“Please fill in the fields for their insurance and the payment plan section. If there’s any issues…” The doctor said, voice free of judgement or blame as he lifted tear stained eyes to catch hers.

“No… You’ll have your money. Just… Save ‘em doc. They’re all I have,”

Dean didn’t have time to sit around feeling sorry for himself. He needed to get the money. He’d do anything to save his family. Hell, he’d have already sold his soul three times over if he had anything left to actually bargain with. And his baby, the Impala that had been their home, would never be the same again without Sam’s constant attempts to change his music or (Y/N) signing along from the backseat or making his baby brother roll his eyes at her bad jokes.

Though he’d yet to get an offer on the ad. And he needed money fast.

Cas had tried, but his weakened grace couldn’t help them, and there were no other last-minute interventions there to save the day. After all, saving the day was what the Winchesters did, and Dean was two soldiers short of a full team. 

No, he couldn’t sit around hoping someone would come rescue them and he couldn’t shoot or punch his way through this problem. All he could do was cling to his phone and hope someone offered to buy a piece of him. One he thought he’d never part with. Hell, at some point he’d even dreamed about handing the keys over to his own child one day, one with green eyes and (Y/H/C) hair, to let the Impala live on when he retired somewhere calm and quiet with (Y/N).

A dream he now realised was foolish to even hope for.

Keeping his eyes on the picture of his Baby on the laptop screen, Dean’s hand tightened around the papers. His voice shook as he prayed out loud, just as much to the classic car on the screen as to the doctor in front of him. 

“Please save my family,”

Tags:

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love​​ @woodworthti666​​ @defenderrosetyler​​  @akshi8278​​ @justanotherwinchester​​ @lyarr24​​ @torn-and-frayed​​ @all-will-be-well-love​​ @wearesuchstuff1​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @adoptdontshoppets​​ @starsandmidnightblue​​ @punof-agun​​ 

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​​ @winchest09​​ @hobby27​​  @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​​ @sea040561​​ @donnaintx​​ @alwaysdreamingforthebest​​  @thatmotleygirl​​ @chocolateheart​​ @superfanficnatural​​ @flamencodiva​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​ @waywardbeanie​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​ @ellewritesfix05​​ @emoryhemsworth​​

[katehuntington]

Title: Changes - part eleven Word count:  ±3000 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part eleven: The case is closed and the hunters go their separate ways, but not before having to deal with a few loose ends. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks.  Music: Purple Haze - Jimmi Hendrix, Highway To Hell - AC/DC. Author’s note: I’m super excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer​, @soupornatural​ & @mrswhozeewhatsis​, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​ and @winchest09​ who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

     Flashing lights shimmer bright blue and red on the surroundings of the three hunters. They’re out in the open again, the moon and stars above them, the night air chilly. Dean leans against his Impala, while Zoë has made herself comfortable on the saddle of her bike, overlooking the scene. Police officers are clearing the area, some take notes of what the victims have to say. Before the authorities arrived, the hunters talked to the victims about what to tell the police. Their best advice was to keep quiet. People who start their statement with the word ‘shapeshifter’ usually end up in a psych ward. If they ever need to talk about what happened, they can call the brothers. 

     All the people have been pulled out of the septic tank by the fire department. An ambulance with Cole in the back is the first to leave the driveway, sirens blaring, while others are treated and prepared for their ride to hospital. Sam walks up to the other hunters and halts, watching the ambulance take off.      “Cole is in critical condition, but the paramedic was hopeful. She said if we hadn’t found him, he wouldn’t have survived the night. The others are okay, besides from minor injuries and malnutrition,” he informs.       “Good,” Dean says, satisfied.      “And Terry Cliffer?” Zoë wonders.      “Yeah, about Terry...” Sam shakes his head. “They found him, too.”      “Dead?” she assumes.      Sam nods and leans against the hood. The paramedics took care of the wound on his head, the injury is barely visible, covered by his long brown hair.      “They found his body in the back of the tank.”      Zoë sighs. “Damnit.”       She glances over to the ambulance where Michelle Cliffer is sitting on a gurney, wrapped in a thermal blanket. She has her daughter and son by her side, comforting her children. Zoë wonders if she knows. The boys catch her gaze at the broken family.       “You can’t save them all.”

     It's Dean who reminds her of that, to Zoë’s surprise. She expected words of consolation from the younger Winchester, who’s shown her a lot more sympathy than his arrogant brother, until now, that is. She nods at the hunter, hearing his message, but unable to accept tonight’s outcome. Every time an innocent is killed by something she hunts, she feels like she failed. Even though they saved the others, not to mention the many victims that would have followed if they hadn't ended the shifter, Zoë cannot shake that feeling. 

     When she looks up at Michelle again, she sees that the woman is on her way over. It’s not hard to miss the widow’s grief.      “Michelle...” Sam stammers, not sure what to say.      She forces a polite smile and gives him a nod, but it's obvious she's torn up. Through the tears, she looks them in the eye one by one.      “What you did… you have no idea what this means to me,” she says, her voice breaking.      “Just doing our job, ma’am,” Dean responds, as if it’s no big deal.

     “It’s so strange...” The poor woman shakes her head, still unable to grasp what happened. “I noticed that Terry was behaving differently about a month ago. I had no idea that--"       “- it wasn’t your husband?” Sam fills in.      She looks up at him, sniffles and nods.      “He looked just like him. A few days ago, I started asking questions and… well, you know the rest.”      She looks down, as if she’s trying to find her strength in the soil underneath her feet. Her bottom lip begins to quiver.      “They just informed me about Terry.”      “We're very sorry,” Sam returns, compassionately.

     Michelle looks up, her piercing blue eyes seeking Dean, the man who rescued her and her children.      “Thank you,” she says, soft but genuine.      “Don’t thank me. Thank her,” he nods at Zoë. “She did most of the work.”      Zoë looks up, stunned, not expecting the sudden attention. Her gaze shifts to the mother, who turns towards her, her eyes showing more gratitude than a thousand words could describe.      “Thank you for rescuing our children.” she voices, gratefully, and turns to the boys as well. “You saved my family.”

     With nothing left to say, she heads back for the ambulance, her little boy walking with her by the hand, but Lizzy lingers, still looking up at the female hunter. After pondering a little longer, the six year old runs towards the huntress and folds her little arms around Zoë’s leg, giving her a hug before heading back to her mother. A small smile pulls at the corner of her mouth as Zoë watches the little girl go. Lizzy waves at her until the doors of the ambulance close, answered by a final salute from the company of three. A breath floats from her lips, the weight on her shoulders made lighter by the young girl, who made it all worthwhile.

     “Dude, you smell like a toilet,” Dean comments out of nowhere.      He sniffs while making a face, eying his brother, who is still standing next to him.      “You wanna tell me you smell like roses?” Sam returns.      Dean stares back, puzzled. “What are you--“       Sam grabs Dean’s leather coat and pulls it up, showing the dirt and feces stuck to it.      “Ah, shit,” Dean curses.      Zoë grins. “Indeed.”       Sam can’t help but smirk when Dean pulls himself loose, annoyed. Then he glares at Zoë.      “You totally fucked up my favorite jacket,” he gripes, pissed off.      “Gonna cry about it?” she pouts at him.      He gives her a dirty look and narrows his eyes, but Zoë doesn’t let him off the hook just yet.      “You’re lucky you didn’t fuck up my Dave,” she warns. “Next time you have the nerve to get on my bike, I’ll kill you.”      “You have such a warm and loving personality, know that?” Dean snarls, sarcastically.

     “Talking about warm and loving, you said something about ‘me being all over you’?” she brings up, curious.      “You jumped me, and not in a violent kind of way,” he reveals, scratching the back of his head, a little embarrassed.      “How did you find out it wasn’t me?” Zoë wonders.      “Simple; there was no trace of that bullet wound,” he explains, nodding at her abdomen.      “Ah, so clothes were off; you did play ball.” She grins, crossing her arms and leaning back a little. “How far did you make it, exactly? First base? Second base?”

     Sam snorts, watching the interaction between the two hunters. He didn’t expect a blush to turn the tips of Dean’s ears pink, however.      “Oh, whoa!” she realizes. “You got to third base.”      “Dude, you had sex with a shapeshifter?” Sam smirks.      “Dude, no! C’mon!” Dean defends.      Zoë grins, amused. His denial was a little too fast and too loud. For a ‘professional’ con artist, he’s a pretty bad liar.       “Did shifter-me give you a hand or was it the other way around?”      “I - that’s not…” Dean stutters, only digging himself deeper. “You know what? I don’t have to answer to you.”      She huffs. “Well, since you thought you were having sex with me, I think you kinda do.”      “I didn’t have sex with you, or fake-you,” he makes clear, correcting himself while looking confused. “Look, I know what I was doing. I shot the fucker and saved your ass, so I think I deserve some credit.” 

     But Zoë doesn’t plan to stop.      “You’re into me,” she provokes.      “You’re so full of shit,” Dean scoffs. “You might come in a pretty package, sweetheart, but you are as sour as they come.”      She laughs at the insult and slides her helmet over her head, securing the chinstrap.       “I have zero intention to become your friend, Dean, and that was your first clue. When that shifter came on so strong, you should’ve known you were either having a wet dream, or the ‘pretty package’ wasn’t actually this sour bitch.”

     The huntress starts the engine of her Harley before the guy she’s been butting heads with can counter. She doesn’t take off however; she’s not done yet.      “Oh, by the way, did you know that shapeshifters aren’t sexless?”      “Of course I knew that,” Dean utters. “So?”      “Well, Sammy there saw the shifter shed and he was pretty sure it wasn’t female. So whatever you did, you didn’t do it with the opposite sex.”      Zoë leaves the rest for the older Winchester brother to figure out, and to her amusement, it doesn’t take long before it settles in what she’s implying. When she sees the horror and bewilderment in his eyes, she has to pull every string to not break character.       “Bye, boys!”

     She turns the throttle and steers her bike towards the road. Sam has the feeling he’s experiencing déjà vu. Last night, they were standing in the exact same spot, Zoë driving off on her Harley Davidson, Dean staring at her in awe. The younger Winchester tries his best not to burst into laughter, but has difficulty keeping a straight face. He decides to play along with Zoë’s little mind game.      “Is she actually saying that I...?” Dean stammers, eyeing his brother, unsettled.      Sam nods.      “Did you really see…?”      Sam nods.      Nauseated Dean looks away, realizing what this means.      “I’m gonna throw up.”

     Disoriented, he circles the car and slips into his seat a moment later. In shock he stares at the emblem in the center of the steering wheel; his whole life has been a lie. Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix starts playing when the driver turns the key in the ignition. As if he didn’t feel dirty enough, the thought of the shapeshifter driving his beloved Impala only adds to his discomfort. Oh well, at least the bastard didn’t screw with his mixtape.

     Beams of yellow glide through the car rhythmically, fading in and out every time they pass a street light. The V8 under the hood roars steady, already radiating warmth into the cabin as they are about to drive into the city of Rochester. Dean has turned the heat on, aware that Sam had been stuck underground for hours; he figured his little brother might be cold. The gash on his head didn’t look too bad, looks like he got away with nothing but a scratch.       “So, what’s our plan for the rest of the night?” Dean asks him, actually checking if Sam wants to hit the road or call it a night.      Sam chuckles, assuming he has other intentions with that question.      “Considering you have a date with Vicodin girl?”           For the second time this evening, Dean experiences a sudden and overwhelming pressure on his chest as he hits the brakes, almost causing the car behind him to crash into his bumper. The driver honks madly and swerves around when the Chevrolet pulls over.      “Dude!” Sam exclaims, startled.      He doesn’t answer. When they have come to a full stop, Dean glances at his watch instead; it’s 9:15. Frustrated he slams the steering wheel.      “Fuck!”      “What’s your problem?” Sam returns, stunned.      “That’s my problem.” He nods at his rear view mirror.

     It’s just now that Sam notices the sirens behind them. He quickly looks over his shoulder and curses, but is surprised to see the police cars pass them.      “It’s not even for us, Dean. Would you relax?” Sam doesn’t understand all the fuss.      “Oh, it’s for us, alright,” Dean mutters, nodding at the first responders, who make a sharp right to 6th St Southwest, joined by another vehicle from the other direction.      “That’s - that’s where our hotel is,” the younger of the two realizes.          The driver rubs his face. “I didn’t bolt the door.”       With eyes wide open, Sam stares at his brother. “What?!”       “I was in a bit of a hurry,” Dean excuses. “I think Vicodin girl walked in on a dead shapeshifter.”      “Please tell me you covered our tracks,” his brother pleads.      “I didn’t have time for that, Sam! For all I knew I could have been working on a fucking time schedule here! I didn’t know where you were, if you were alive!” he explains, frantically.      “Okay, just chill out. You did take our stuff with you, right?” Sam supposes.      “Let me think. Who had the car again!?” Dean returns.      “You left my laptop in the room?!” Sam exclaims, freaking out. “All our documents, our records, everything is on that computer!”      “I wasn’t thinking straight, okay?! I thought you were dead!” Dean shouts back.      “At least tell me you brought Dad’s journal,” Sam asserts.      He doesn’t need an answer; when he watches Dean’s expression go blank, he knows enough.      “Dean, you didn’t,” Sam sighs and runs his hands through his hair frustrated.      “We need to get back in there,” Dean states, determined.      “Are you nuts? There are cops all over that place!” Sam reminds him.      “Everything we know, everything Dad knows, is in that journal. Names, addresses, phone numbers, you have any idea how many people are gonna get in trouble if that book falls into the wrong hands?!” Sam sums up, his voice raised.

     Before Sam can continue the argument, Dean’s Rock N’ Roll ringtone cuts through the tension. Irritated, he rummages around in his pocket and takes out his phone. He checks the display before he picks up; he doesn’t know the number.      “Hello?”      “Hey, Birdbrain.”      He recognizes that voice, even though the sounds in the background are so loud that he has difficulty understanding her. He rolls his eyes skyward.      “Zo, not now. I have a little bit of a situation here.”      “You mean that you left everything you own except for that damn car of yours in the Deep Purple Inn, which just got stormed by the cops?”

     Dean stares at the road ahead, flabbergasted.      “How the fuck do you know that?”      “Because I was just there.”      “You were there?” he repeats stunned.      Frowning, Sam looks over at his brother, trying to make out what Zoë is saying.      “That lizard took my Macbook and my phone up to your room, I had to get it back. Nice job tidying up the place, by the way.”      “I was a little busy saving everyone’s ass!” Dean returns.      “I went through a hell of a lot of trouble to get your things, but I’ll be happy to dump them alongside the road somewhere if you don’t drop that attitude. Do you want your shit back or not?”

     Silence. Dean curses under his breath, turning the speaker away from his mouth so that the huntress doesn’t pick up on it. He absolutely despises it when he’s forced to take a knee.      “Yes,” he growls, grinding his teeth while pronouncing the simple three letter word.      “I’m gonna make sure I’m out of the state before I pull over, considering shapeshifter-me shot up an entire bar and I just entered the crime scene of my own murder. I advise you to do the same thing.”      “Copy that,” Dean agrees. “And our stuff?”      “You’ve got my number. Give me a call in a few days.”      “Can’t we just meet up somewhere in Iowa?” he proposes.      “No can do, I’m heading to Arkansas for a haunting. Not sure how long that’s gonna take. Leave the state, lay low and call me in a few days, got that?”      Dean sighs, rolling his eyes. Seems like he doesn’t have a choice.      “Got it.”      “Oh, and for the sake of public health, when you cross the state border, take a shower at the first truck stop.”      With those words, she disconnects. Dean looks down at the phone and scoffs. Un-fucking-believable.       “She has our stuff?”       Sam has been staring at him all this time, it’s just now that Dean looks him in the eye.      “Unfortunately,” Dean confirms and looks in the rear view mirror, before he turns back on the road and hits the gas.

     They pass 6th Street Southwest, which is swarming with police. Sam straightens his back, glad that they don’t have to deal with it. He just hopes this isn’t going to come back and bite Dean in the ass later.      “That’s murder number two on your police record,” Sam comments.      “You sound like Dad,” the older brother mutters.      “No, I don’t,” Sam argues.      The corner of Dean’s mouth pulls up.      “You’d be surprised how much you’re like the old man,” he remarks.      Sam changes the subject. “So, what’s our plan?”        Dean shrugs, his right hand on the wheel, his left hand in his lap, unburdening his hurting shoulder. He doesn’t take his eyes from the road as he drives south, down highway 63.      “According to Sullivan, we should lay low for a few days.”      “Sounds fine to me,” Sam agrees. “Where are we going next?”      “Arkansas,” Dean announces.      The younger Winchester glances aside at his brother. “Why Arkansas?”       Dean returns a smug grin. Sam knows that look, he has seen it way too many times.      “You’re gonna follow her, aren’t you?” he presumes.      “You actually think I’m gonna wait until she has some spare time in her agenda?” Dean chuckles.

     It’s not often, but Sam actually agrees with him. They have better things to do, like finding Dad and hunting down the bastard that killed Mom and his girlfriend; he’s going to need the journal and his laptop for that.       “Arkansas it is then.”       Dean turns up the volume when the first tunes from Cliff Williams’ guitar comes through the speakers. Putting the pedal to the metal, he joins in with the drums and he can’t help but nod his head slightly on the beat. Bon Scott’s peculiar scratchy voice belts out the first verse and the driver gladly joins him. He doesn’t care that his brother shakes his head disapprovingly. There’s just no way he can let AC/DC’s Highway To Hell go by without singing along.

     No stop signs, speed limit      Nobody's gonna slow me down      Like a wheel, gonna spin it      Nobody's gonna mess me 'round

     Hey Satan, payin' my dues      Playin' in a rockin' band      Hey momma, look at me      I'm on my way to the Promised Land

     I'm on the highway to hell      Highway to hell      I'm on the highway to hell       Highway to hell

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Start on episode two here

The Sullivan Series tags: @a-gir1-has-n0-name​ @destielhoneybee​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​ @laphirablack​ @magssteenkamp​

Wanna be on the taglist? Shoot me a message!

[carryonmywaywardwriters]

Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: I had some time, am back home, and figured I’d just start reposting back from the beginning. I wanted to start with something that I haven’t seen in ages. Something that’s more personal to me. Edit and change it as I post. Because I’m in a far different place than I was three years ago, and I hope it shows this time around. So...I hope you enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Upcoming Warnings: Show level violence. Mentions of childhood trauma/sexual abuse sprinkled in (not super detailed. I do have my limits). Smut. A lot of detailed smut. Kidnapping. Near death experiences. Etc. Individual chapters will have different warnings. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: Roughly 3,500

“Could you get anymore annoying?”

“Sure.” You smirked broadly, eyeing up the competition with nothing short of arrogance. “I could be just like you.” That made Sam clench his jaw, and eyes flash dark. A reaction that showed just how much you were getting to him without even trying.

“Why do you keep her around?” Sam turned to his brother at the table, clearly attempting to hold back as much of his rage as he could manage. His knuckles were white against his skin while gripping his fork. Face carrying just a hint of red in his cheeks that pulled in tight. Revealing twin sets of unimpressed dimples. You couldn't help but to ponder what his blood pressure was. Definitely on the higher end.

He'd been in a mood from the moment he walked into the bunker, according to Dean. Sam had been 'perfectly fine' before then. It's probably because I was the first thing he'd spotted when he'd opened the door.

You two had been verbally sparring ever since. Nothing new. Your heart beat a little too fast from it all. Maybe I should check my B.P. while I'm at it.

“The entertainment value alone is worth it.” Dean grinned broadly at his brother. Drawing you back to the dinner time conversation. “She's the only one I've seen you really lose your temper with, Sammy. Plus, she's a mean cook.” He took a larger than life bite of chicken to emphasize his point. A grunt of approval was released while his eyes closed in bliss. “We can't cook like this. We'd be back to take out nonstop if she left, or I'd have to take up the mantle. And that...” Another giant piece of meat was shoved into his mouth, “That just feels like a crime.”

“I'd play humble, but I agree. I did knock it out of the park tonight.” You moaned out after a bite of your own. Noting the way the younger brother's eye twitched in response. “Plus, I'm a great maid. And am great at sorting through that mess called a file room when you're done with it. I could go on for hours, but you're already looking a little green, Sammy. I'd hate to see the food I worked so hard on go to waste.”

The flush darkened from your never ending sass, or the 'Sammy' usage. Either way, it was working. He was coming unhinged. His scowl got deeper as he shoveled his food into his mouth, eager to flee from your presence.

Whether he liked it or not, you really had assisted in making their lives easier in multiple retrospects; including the home cooked meals- something they rarely had before you joined the gang. And as a result of your ability to coexist with his boar of a brother, Sam was stuck with you. For life, the way things were going.

You had learned to appreciate getting under the younger Winchester's skin to some degree, and fought back another grin of triumph. Of course, he happened to see your lip twitch in amusement; forcing his glower to deepen further. It really was too easy most times.

It had begun the very first moment you two had met. You'd been a bit of a klutz that day; dumping coffee on his lap before you could even say hi. Tripping over your feet from the anxiety.

Dean had made the introductions while Sam suppressed his annoyance; attempting to not chew you out right from the start. You'd sat in embarrassment, trying not to cower from his dark looks. From there, the tension only got worse until it was clear he despised you even to poor- typically clueless- Castiel.

Unfortunately for Sam, you and his older brother had become close before you'd ever met him. Even if you had been useless to their lives, Dean would have kept you around out of nothing more than emotional attachment. Poor Sammy had no choice but to suck up your presence in the bunker as a result. Only getting a reprieve when him and Dean left for a hunt, or he went out solo.

At first you'd tried. Really tried. You'd even talked to Dean about ways to get his younger brother to warm up to you. You hated the tension and awkwardness that Sam seemed to feed off of. Nothing worked. If anything, every shy overture increased the hostility. Eventually, you had just given up. Dean had gone to the bat, determined to assist until he saw you start to give it as good as you got it. Then, he decided to step back and enjoy the show.

And what a show it was. For just over two years, war waged in the bunker. You didn't return Sam's deep hatred, but you certainly weren't above rising up to it. For every barb thrown your way, you returned one. More if the circumstances were right. And often, they were more than right.

At first, Sam had been surprised when you'd rebelled. It was enough to give you some peace for a few weeks, even. Giving you space as he processed the change. Then, he'd adapted to the new attitude. Finally finding someone he could take whatever was wrong in his life out on.

Over time, it became almost like a game between you two. Who could take the most heat? And for the most part, once you'd joined in, you two were equals in the battle.

“So, what'd you do while we were out?” Dean asked, mouth still full. They'd driven straight through; crashing as soon as they'd hit their rooms. He hadn't really had much time to catch up.

“Made a little head way on the file room. Dusted. Put all of the books in the library back. Ya know: maid stuff. But, most of the time, I ended up at Alice's.” You answered with a shrug. It wasn't a terribly exciting life you led. Unlike him and Sam.

“How's she doing?” His interest piqued. Chewing slower as he waited for you to give him the details.

“As happy as a woman on bed rest, in her eighth month of pregnancy can be.” You chuckled, thinking of your friend. She was a taller, naturally willowy woman with long strawberry blonde curls. Sporting a belly as big as a yoga ball in front of her. “Bane thinks she's going to pop any second. He's turning into a wreck.”

“Poor, guy.” Dean chuckled. Picturing it with ease. “I'll have to drop in sometime. Grab a present for the beast-to-be. Maybe that'll calm some nerves.”

Bane was slightly taller than either Winchester, but less bulky. His hair was practically black, it was so dark. The pair of had-been-hunters had been a package deal with you. Dean had joined into the gang without a problem once he'd met you. An amazing feat for the natural loner. Sam had taken to them with a similar ease- one that had excluded you.

“I'll go with you.” Sam spoke up, ignoring the sour look his words dredged up. Just great.

–

“Sam!” You screeched, tearing down the hall the next morning. As soon as you were able, you slammed onto his door with your fists. “Open up, you coward!” Teeth ground together as his bed creaked, but no other sound emitted. “Bastard!”

“What the hell is going on?” Dean peeked his head out of his door to see what was going down; hair sticking up everywhere. Ever the sleepy hedgehog. “Y/N? What's your problem, now?”

“He put dead fish in all of my drawers, and then shut off my air conditioning!” You hissed out. The putrid scent still clung to your nostrils. Riling you up further. “So, not only does my room smell like rotting fish- No, that wasn't good enough. He made sure that the heat stuck the scent to everything. I can't get it out! I've gone through three air fresheners! Three! I don't have a window I can open, Dean!” You turned back to the door, putting your entire strength into the knock. The wood shook with the force of it. Every bit of murderous rage transferring from you to the door in the process. “Sam Winchester! You're dead! Do you hear me? Dead!”

A string of very detailed- though empty- threats ensued, making Dean roll his eyes and walk away; carrying an 'it's too early for this shit' look on his face. With a sigh, he tightened his robe. Moving to seek out coffee. Wondering, not for the first time, if it was truly worth it to have you both at each other's throats.

Sam grinned as he heard the muffled sounds that were no doubt promises of retaliation over the music thumping in his ears. He'd decided you'd earned a present for all of your 'impeccable' manners the night before.

She really should've remembered to lock her door. He'd learned you were a fairly solid sleeper early on, and had used it to his advantage when he felt the urge. Sam was almost insulted that you hadn't kept your guard up. Maybe I'm getting out of practice? The increased echoes of you shouting confirmed that wasn't the case.

He'd rarely started prank wars in his life, preferring to finish what Dean started. But in your case, he'd made an exception. Several times. Wonder how long it takes her to check inside her box spring? His grin grew wide while he pondered over that one, turning up the volume until nothing else could be heard. Letting Celine Dion block you out. She thinks she's mad now...

--

You left to visit Alice to cool down; knowing that the moment you spotted the younger Winchester, you were going to lose your cool further. Exactly what he wanted. You'd be damned if you'd give him anymore satisfaction than your blow up that morning had already delivered.

“He did what?” She was trying not to laugh, making you narrow your eyes her way as you paced through the pale, homey room. She coughed to cover up her broken chuckles. Finally, the blonde almost made it to a serious note. “No, you're right. That isn't funny. It's awful.” A snort she couldn't seem to help left as she rested on the couch.

“It's like he's a five year old!” You grumbled, crossing your arms as maturely as you could. It failed. You resembled a sulking child, yourself. “I had an easier life in that one foster care home. The one with all the boys- The James's house. You know all of the horror stories from that place.” A shudder ran through you as you recalled being the only girl out of nine kids. “As bad as they were, at least they learned not to piss me off. This guy gets off on it.” Your eyes narrowed further as you thought about your room, again. “He could at least pretend not be so cruel. I mean, a water snake in the toilet would have been less evil.” At your friend's disbelieving look, you clarified, “That doesn't make all of my possessions reek indefinitely. It's short term misery.” Because that made perfect sense.

“I'll have to remember that one.” Sam's deep voice made you spin around to the living room entrance. Speak of the devil and he shall appear... 

He looked too comfortable resting near the kitchen. The way his plaid glued to his shoulders made him too large for you to stand. His expression too smug. It made you wonder just how cocky he'd look once you gave him a black eye. Maybe a split lip.

“Don't even think about it, Winchester.” You hissed out. He grinned in merriment as your E/C eyes flashed his way. “I grew up with that one. Always look before you sit.”

“Great advice.” 

“I try to be helpful.” Your tone was anything but. If looks could have killed, Sam Winchester would have been a dead man. Again.

You wanted nothing more than to strangle him for his childish prank. But, giving him any more satisfaction? You'd rather die.

Instead, you pulled out your inner ice queen that drove him crazy. All the while plotting your revenge. You felt your features relax into the cold mask you'd picked up in your childhood as you two looked at each other. The tiniest twitch in his left eye made it all worthwhile.

“Sammy!” Alice cooed in joy, holding her arms out for a hug. He stopped the stare down so he could move to bend down to her; wrapping her in a warm embrace. Careful not to crush the bump at her middle.

“How's the beast doing?” He asked before settling beside her on the couch. Behaving like a regular human being rather than a monster. You leaned against the wall, unwilling to take any of the open seats beside the giant ogre.

“Having a great time using my ribs as a trampoline.” She chuckled with a light grimace as her stomach rolled lightly from the movement of the child inside of her. Made all the more visible by her thin tank top.

“See, the perfect nickname.” He teased, having coined the unborn child once it started becoming more active. Watching the infant lull inside the womb with amazement.

“I don't know. I'm sure I can think of someone more fitting for that title.” You smiled sweetly, making sure to bat your eyes for the extra appearance of innocence. 

No one in the room bought it. Not even the child. All movement seemed to cease in response.

“So, have you two decided on a name, yet?” He ignored you, and went back to the baby talk.

You'd known he didn't have much to do with kids having grown up the way he had. Sam was thrilled at the prospect of being exposed to an infant before he eventually settled down into that life style himself. It had never been a secret.

As much as you disliked the man, you couldn't help but appreciate how intrigued he was with the entire thing. It was oddly adorable to see such a closed off- to you, anyway- man so enthused about new life. Though, you'd let a bus run you over before you admitted that out loud.

“We have an idea for a boy-”

“And a girl?” You asked, knowing exactly what was coming. However, you couldn't resist the jab.

“It's a boy. Why would she worry about a girl's name?” Sam looked at you as if you were crazy for even suggesting that option. The normally- when you excluded yourself from the equation- rational man was a hundred percent certain that he was right. You hoped it was a girl out of nothing short of spite.

“You're aware that we didn't allow them to give up the sex, right?” Alice chuckled at how solid Sam was on the baby's future identity.

“I just know.” You rolled your eyes at his response, earning a look from Alice that screamed for you to behave. With a low sigh and pursed lips, you forced yourself back to the nothing. Leaving your face empty as it relaxed.

“There's our favorite girl,” Dean walked in through the kitchen's entrance with Bane at his side. The proud papa-to-be was all decked out in his work gear- having landed a job with a local mechanic. Dark hair mused from the long shift. Meanwhile, his counterpart was in his usual clean cut layers. Spick and span without a hunt in sight.

“I thought I had that title?” You mock pouted as Dean trotted over to kiss Alice's cheek; forgetting  about the mask you were supposed to be sporting.

“When you're stuck in a bed- or on a couch- for four months, you can have your title back.” He sat down in the rocking chair beside her, making sure he winked your way first. Dean rested as close as he could. Always the protector of the young and innocent.

“You're not crazy doped up on hormones,” Bane walked over to you. Making up for the Winchesters' neglect. “So, you definitely have the edge.” He wrapped you up into a friendly hug. Giving you a sense of calm that you hadn't felt since Sam had walked back through the bunker's entrance.

You loved the big man like a brother. The both of you had met years ago while running away from your foster homes- well before Alice had joined the party. You two had been closer back in the day. Even so, the newfound distance regular life threw between you two didn’t take away any of the affection.

“She's just crazy in general,” Sam muttered, earning a swat from the closest thing your group had to a mother figure. “What? Am I wrong?” She just stared him down. Waiting for his will to crumble. Sure enough, he gave in. “Fine, sorry.” He grumbled. Then, the conniving bastard played his hand. “See if I give you the chocolate I bought...” His lips quirked up as he teased her, knowing her weakness.

“Chocolate?” She quickly agreed with his assessment of your character; earning a small, fond, smile from Sam. You were almost jealous at how easily he had taken everyone else. You'd never once received that look.

You didn't remain long after that. Hated feeling like an outsider within your own group of peers. You never stayed long once Sam infiltrated your favorite get away zone.

Instead, you fled to the closest store to pick up more air fresheners and groceries for the bunker. You took your time. Conversing with the locals and grabbing some food. Knowing that Bane and Alice would feed the other two.

By the time you forced yourself back to the bunker, they still weren't back. Part of you was relieved. The rest of you? Frustrated. You didn't let yourself dwell on it. Instead, you threw yourself into work.

“That dick.” You hissed, pulling out the last dead fish from under your bed. Without a hitch, you tossed it into your trash can beside you. The rotting corpse churned your gut. It took everything in you not to gag as you glanced around to make sure it truly was the final one.

“He's upped his game since the last time we'd gone at it.” Dean's voice made you jump. The action slammed your skull against the frame loudly. “Oh, damn. You okay?”

“I'm good.” You rubbed your scalp lightly, wiggling out from the danger zone. “All of my clothes are in the washer. I think I finally found the last piece of tuna. And, I can kind of breath in here, again.” You had fans on, and the air fresheners were finally making a difference...slowly. “I think I'm good for right now.” It took every bit of strength you had not to rub your head as you flipped the can up to tie the bag.

“You know, if you wanted to leave...I wouldn't stop you.” Dean's words made you freeze for a moment. When you finally looked up? Dean looked haggard from the day he'd had.

“Why would I want to leave?” You played deliberately obtuse as you moved to slowly sit on your bed.

You should have known that he'd have been able to read you like a book. He was awful when it came to himself, but you? He'd noticed the wear the bunker was leaving on you.

“Come on, Y/N.”  Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'd have to be blind to miss how miserable you and Sam are around each other. And you? You seem to be having a harder time than usual. And that got me thinking-”

“It's nothing compared to some of the homes, Dean.” You sent him a soft smile. He knew all about your past, and winced at the thought of what you'd been through. “Not to mention, you two aren't the only legacies. This place... It's in my blood.” You looked around your room, taking in the only place you'd ever felt safe enough to sleep soundly in. It was amazing what a simple DNA test could uncover. “Plus, what would I do without Dean Winchester down the hall to turn to?”

“That's just it.” He was clearly bothered by what his mind had conjured up. Frowning even deeper as he started to pace. His hand moving aggressively as he talked. “We're not here all of the time. We're gone way more than we're home. You don't have me just down the hall-”

“So, get me a puppy to have for company while you're gone.” You laughed lightly. Getting to your feet, you reached to grip his broad, navy covered shoulders. Forcing him to look at you. “Dean, I'm fine. Really. If I had any complaints, I'd let you know.” 

You appreciated his concern. It made up for everything else. Even with his brother's behavioral problems, you were happier in the bunker than you'd been in your entire life. It didn't matter if things were a little more heated than usual the past few weeks.

“That's just it, Y/N.” He looked you deep into the eyes. “You're always 'fine' nowadays, but when's the last time you were more than that?” Just like that, your face fell. You hated when Dean got deep, and hit home...

Part Two

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Mother dragon (2); Winchester brothers x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so so far so good with this story so first I apologize for the shortness of this chapter but I promise the next one will be longer and we finally get a backstory of how you met Deacon and became his mother. I have a feeling you all will like that chapter so much. But I hope my Queen readers will enjoy the little surprise I have in store for this chapter :) Keep an eye out for the next chapter coming up shortly.

Taglist:

@onebigfangirlworld

_____________________________________________________

Part 2

I don’t know how long I was asleep for but the next thing I woke up to was a bright light flashing in my face and the sound of an eagle’s cries.  I moaned quietly and shivered as I felt the cold air brush against me.  

It was then I realized that someone was missing from my side, it suddenly all came back to me.

        I rose up from and began frantically searching hoping that it wasn’t a dream.

“Deacy? Oh Deacon!” I muttered frantically as I searched through the cave.

“Mum?” I turned around and there stood my little big Deacy.  Over his shoulder he carried a full grown five point buck.

“Oh Deacon, you really are here.” I sighed with relief.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” he questioned with that cute little puppy dog head tilt that he’s always done ever since he was a little boy.

“Well I—” I stopped mid-sentence and his face converted into understandment.  He came up and dropped the dead buck and knelt down in front of me.

“I promise you mum, I’m real. You found me, and we’re together again.”

“I once was attacked by a Djinn and was given this exact fantasy. How can I be sure this isn’t the case once more?”

“You’re (y/n) (m/n) (l/n). You found me when my mother was killed by poachers who claimed to be hunters. Your parents died because of a vampire attack, and even at such a young age you’ve always been a fighter. A true dragon, and that’s why I followed you, because you reminded me of my own mother.” He then leaned his head against my knees and looked up at me with those big brown eyes of his as he continued, “You taught me everything I needed to know on how to survive, to fight, to hunt things that go bump in the night, but you also taught me that not all humans are bad. Had you not taken me in I—I could’ve grown to be a terrible dragon, all because of poachers.”

I smiled loving at him and placed my hand on his cheek and said to him.

“You’ve convinced me, this isn’t a Djinn attack.” He smiled lovingly at me and leaned his forehead against mine and nuzzled me as he purred lovingly.  I smiled and brushed my fingers through his long brown hair and kissed his temple.

Deacy got a fire going using his own dragon fire and cut up the deer meat for me and once made the call for it, I began to chow down since this had been my real meal in days.  He waited patiently by the rest of the deer carcass.  I looked up after just three bites I said to him.

“Deacy you know you don’t have to wait up for me to finish just so that you can eat.”

“Old habits die hard mum.” He joked with that famous soft grin of his.

“Go on, eat.” I told him and it was then he began to rip out a rib from the deer and dug right into it.  

After seven years, my son and I finally had a meal together.

After breakfast, Deacy took me out into the woods so that I could see if I could officially walk after getting a little dragon healing the other day.  He stayed right at my hip but I had told him to give me some space because I wanted to prove that I could do it on my own.

I walked a few steps before I finally found my footing and I could walk normally once again.

“Thank you Deacy.”

“You’ve healed many injuries when I was a draggling, thought it was time I returned the favor to you. Especially since you’re so stubborn about it sometimes.” I playfully scowled down at him and as we walked through the forest I said to him.

“Deacy, what happened to you? Did you stay here all these years?” He turned to me and said.

“Well, not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see, after the rangers found you for saving that man’s life I—” his head shot up and he sniffed the air.

“What is it?” he shushed me and stood protectively in front of me.  I could hear the low rumble deep within his chest as I knew his dragon side was starting to come out.

“Hunters.” He looked around cautiously sniffing the air once more before he took notice of an abandoned thicket.  “Here,” he gently took my arm while wrapping his other arm protectively around me guiding me towards the thicket.  “Alright mum, just stay here and don’t move.”

“What no, no, no, no I’m not letting you go alone.”

“No matter what you hear don’t come out….”

“Deacon that’s not an option they’ll kill you!”

“It’s not every day a hunter carries around a medieval sword.” He cupped the side of my face and said, “don’t worry mum. It takes more than bullets and a small silver knife to kill me.” He kissed the center of my forehead and he said.  “Once they’re down I’ll come back for you, promise.”

“You better not get a scratch on you or else there’ll be hell to pay mister.” He chuckled softly and kissed my forehead one last time before his wings popped out and he took off flying.

*3rd Person POV*

Sam and Dean Winchester arrived at (y/n)’s hometown.  After not checking in with them for the past 2 days they got worried. So they left the bunker and headed over to where the Vetalas were said to be and were currently walking through the woods hoping to find their little sis alive.

“You sure she’d still be here in the woods?” asked Dean.

“I’m telling you Dean; I did a little more research and apparently our pair of Vetalas is actually a pack. A man by the name of Marco Saltoni found a way to control multiple Vetalas and they were all extremely loyal to him doing whatever it was that he wanted. After being killed nine years ago by an unknown hunter they stuck around the area waiting for their chance at vengeance. I’ve been thinking maybe (y/n) was that unknown hunter.”

“Dude I know (y/n) is a badass but there’s no way she could’ve done that at just 14 years old. I mean didn’t you say there was like eleven Vetalas along with this Marco guy?” Said Dean.

“Yeah but still…..”

“Wait, wait. You hear that?” asked Dean.  

Both brothers stopped and to them they heard this huge gust of wind.  It was almost like a hurricane coming down from the north. They looked up to the sky as Sam muttered.

“What the hell?” Dean tilted his head in confusion as the wind continued to rustle and suddenly a loud boom was heard behind them.  They turned around and all they saw were large lather black wings and two hands burning almost as if they were about to burst into flames, his nails were now long, sharp black claws.

“Ohh come on you kidding me!?” Dean claimed as he began to fire his gun rapidly but bullets did nothing for dragon’s skin.  Deacon then grabbed Dean’s gun and melted the metal before shoving him away with his super strength.  Sam then grabbed a large portion of a log and slammed it across Deacon’s head.

He slowly turned towards the younger Winchester growling lowly and gripped onto Sam’s neck tightly before flying in the air taking him off the ground.

“Sammy!” Dean cried out.  Sam squirmed in the iron grip that Deacon had on his throat, choking on hair trying to get free while Deacon kept growling and gripping Sam’s throat tighter and tighter.

“DEACON STOP!!” a voice cried out.

*My POV*

As I hid I could hear the sound of gunfire and that’s when I heard a familiar voice cry out.

“Sammy!”

“Dean.” I whispered.  Oh god! I raced as fast as I could through the woods crying out to Deacon.  “Deacon no! Deacon!” I then came around and saw Deacon about 7-10ft in the air with Sam in an iron grip to the throat.  “DEACON STOP!!” He turned towards me and his anger melted away.

“(Y/n)? wha—you know this thing!?!” Dean demanded.

“Deacon bring him down now!” He looked between me and Sam and I turned my mom voice back on full force, “I said now!” Deacon surrendered and slowly came back down to the ground and once his feet touched the ground he released Sam who collapsed to the ground gasping and coughing out for air.  Dean raced toward him and knelt down beside his brother saying his name and asking him if he was okay.  Deacon turned toward me looking at me shamefully like a child being caught doing something wrong.

He walked up towards me with his head hung low and he knelt down so that I now towered over him.

“(Y/n) explain now!” I looked up to Dean and Sam, the two of them looking at me in either confusion or anger.  “How the hell do you know this thing?!”

“Deacon is not a thing!!” I snapped.

“Wait…..Deacon? As in your Deacon? The kid from your picture? Your son Deacon?!” said Sam. I sighed deeply and stroked Deacon’s head and said.

“Yes.”

“But—that’s impossible. The Deacon in the picture you showed us showed a boy around 8 years old, this guy looks older than any 15 year old I’ve seen.”

“That’s because Deacon isn’t really my birth son. And as you saw he’s not exactly human.”

“Alright (y/n) no more games. Tell us exactly who the hell he is and what the hell you’ve been lying to us about?!” Dean demanded.

“I’ll tell you but not here. And not while you’re pointing that gun at my son!” I said before snapping at him defensively.  Sam had Dean lower his gun and Sam said.

“Okay (y/n), we’ll go by your terms.”

I followed behind Baby with Deacon sitting in the front seat of my car.  The car was silent as we drove through the highway out of my hometown back to Lebanon, Kansas.

“You know the Winchester brothers?” he asked me.

“Shortly after I was able to leave the foster care system, I got back into hunting and came across their path. Saved their asses and one thing led to another and I’ve been living with them. Helping them hunt things.”

“Like me?” I looked at him and said.

“We haven’t gotten a dragon case, and no matter what they have to say in the end I’m not going to let them hurt you Deacon.” I took his hand in mine and said as I continued driving, “I also hope you know that I’m not mad at you, you couldn’t have known. You were just protecting me, but just know that from now on you’ll know not to attack the brothers, okay?” He still looked a bit upset but I knew just how to cheer him up.

I unlocked my I-phone and opened up Amazon music and said.

“Alexa. Play my playlist.”

‘Playing (y/n)’s playlist on Amazon music’ Alexa spoke and the very first song that popped up was Queen’s ‘Somebody to love’.

As a child, Deacy was always a fan of Queen growing up because my dad had actually gotten me into their music since he and my mom met at a Queen concert.  I saw the grin appearing on his face and he softly laughed.

“Not fair mum.”

“Oh c’mon Deacy darling, the greatest band in all of history and I even named you after the greatest bass player in the world.” I sang along to Freddie’s voice as loud and off key as I could and soon Deacy’s head bopped to it and he joined in until soon the two of us were singing loudly to the heavens.

All the way until we reached Lebanon Deacon and I listened to Queen as loudly as we could until we finally pulled up to the bunker.  I parked my car into the garage and I sadly had to shut the car off.

We both left the car and we soon caught sight of Sam and Dean and Dean stated bluntly.

“Okay explanation now!” Based off the fact that we had to drive straight with no rest stops or anything I knew that Dean at this point was pissed off and wanted nothing but the truth.

“Chill out Dean okay? Let’s take an hour to ourselves, finally get some food, I’ll heal up Sam’s wounds as well as your own and then it’ll be explanation time.” I took Deacon’s hand and led him out of the garage towards the kitchen.

*3rd Person POV*

“A dragon.”

“I know.”

“She knows a freakin dragon Sam!”

“I know, but Dean if she trusts this dragon then maybe we should hear her story out.”

“Hell no man that dude is a psychopath with fire. He nearly killed you and hell almost me. He could—Stockholm syndromed (y/n) for all we know!”

“And what if he didn’t? If he had don’t you think he’d ignore her when she told him to set me down? Would he have knelt down and cuddled to her like a child allowing her to stroke his head?”

“Sam all I know is that girl has been hiding the fact that she’s a freakin Targaryen. And I do not want her to keep her pet in my bunker!”

“Dude get over it. Go get some sleep and please take a shower, you stink so bad.” Sam said as he walked away from his brother.

[rxcusant]

Lol explain Kingdom hearts to me. Like all of it. Cause I'm confused as fk. Not KH3 tho cause I'm still going through it.

buckle up lads

so theres a buncha keyblade masters called foretellers and theyre all runnin round like headless chickens cause their master disappeared and nobodys telling each other anything so they all start fightin (except this one guy luxu voiced by max mittleman, he grabbed a box and high tailed it outta there) and then it sparks a keyblade war for all the light in kingdom hearts i think ??? and then i legit forget what happens from here because i hate ux with every fiber of my being but it made this cool place called a keyblade graveyard, its pretty dope.

fast forward 1000 years and we got the cool wayfinder trio all living in land of departure about to take their mark of mastery except terra doesnt pass because Mark Hamil Said Darkness Sucks. also we meet this old guy Xehanort he kinda sucks a lot. theres these enemies called unversed rolling around and mark hamil tells aqua and terra to go stop them but ventus said HEY IM COMING TO and ran after terra so aquas left to be the mom to bring them both home idk and its revealed ventus is made of pure light and xehanort literally split the darkness form his heart and it made vanitas-- hes responsible for all the unversed, he sucks, we dont like him but we love him-- in an effort to forge this thing called the X-Blade (PRONOUNCED LIKE KEY BLADE I HATE THIS SERIES) that will open the door to kingdom hearts, and the x-blade can only be made when pure light and darkness clash, and like... restart the keyblade war and bring about balance?? idk. And xehanort wants to live long enough to see this happen so he literally possesses terras body. Cool! Just what the poor guy needed. Ven and vanitas fight and ven sacrifices himself so he goes to take a Very Long Nap and vanitas just dies like the bitch he is. But ven’s heart finds his way to baby 5yo sora who decides HEY ILL HOARD YOU IN MY HEART FOR THE NEXT 11 YEARS and thats why roxas looks like ventus. Aqua yeets him in the land of departure and then like..locks the world up and it turns into castle oblivion.  meanwhile terra and aqua punch each other and terras about to fall into a darkness pit but aqua sacrifces heself to get him out and so she ends up trapped there for 11 years and terra??is now terranort and has amnesia and this old dude Ansem The Wise finds him and adopts him and an apprentice. yeah. bet he wont regret that decision ; )

10 years later kh1 happens and sora and riku and kairi are chilling on destiny islands until it explodes and riku fucks off to the darkness and kairi fucks off to soras hearts -- i hope she said hi to ventus in there-- and sora ends up in traverse town where he meets donald and goofy. YOU SEE king mickey of disney castle also fucked off because worlds are disappearing to darkness and he left donald and goofy a note to go find The Key cause thatll help. so they do and they journey around with sora and become good buddies i love the trinity trio so much. eventually they meet riku at hollow bastion again and hes been posssessed by this dude Ansem whos not Ansem the Wise but is actually Xehanort’s Heartless (i hate this fucking series) and they find kairis comatose body chillin in the corner and they have a fight scene thats engraved in the memory of Everyone whos ever played PS2 KH1 KAIRI! KAIRI! OPEN YOUR EYES! ITS NO USE. THAT GIRL HAS LOST HER HEART. SHE CANNOT WAKE UP. oh my god why didnt they add a skip scene button. anyway they punch the possession outta riku and sora stabs himself with the keyblade to release kairis heart BUT it also releases his own heart which created his nobody, Roxas, who got vens heart???who thats why he looks like ven?? and it created namine who is kairis nobody because??i honestly forget i hate this goddamn series. anyway soras a heartless for a few minutes but kairi got her heart and life back and wanted to get some sweet sweet screentime and so she saved sora and restored him Thank you kairi. so sora dumps kairi off at traverse town and goes to give Ansem / Xehanort’s Heartless a good ol ass whopping ad they win and restore the worlds but kairi and sora are separated again I’LL COME BACK TO YOU, I PROMISE! I KNOW YOU WILL! WHEN YOU WALK AWAY YOU DONT HEAR ME SAY PLEAAAAAAASE OH BABYYY DONT GO oh also riku and king mickey and sora closed the door to kingdom hearts and trapped riku and mickey in the realm of darkness, that was a thing.

and then chain of memories happened. theyre in castle oblivion!!! whoa!! we meet the organization for the first time! whoa!!! we meet namine!! whoa!!! so like namine has sora-memory powers and can tinker with his memories and the memories of everyone hes connected to (AND HOLY FUCK IS THAT BOY CONNECTED TO A LOTTA PEOPLE NAMINE IS VERY POWERFUL) and the organization is making namine rewrite soras memories as he progresses throuhg castle oblivion to turn him into marluxias pawn so he cna use sora to like..overhtrow the organization, i think?? i hate this seriees. but it all works out in the end except soras memories are so scrambled he decides to sleep for a year to get all the right ones back. MEANWHILE RIKUS IN THE BASEMENT OF CASTLE OBLIVION and hes fighting his own demons i mean darkness i mean ansem i mean xehanorts heartless and he meet up with mickey a few times and then he meets DiZ and he also meets a replica of himself--yeah by the way the organization is making replicas, That Sure Wont Ever Be Referenced Again : )-- and its this game that rikus like YEAH I CAN USE THE DARKNESS AS POWER AND STRENGTH and HES GONNA WALK THE ROAD TO DAWN and then every riku rper put dawn in their url and i got confused trying to keep them all straight lord please help me im a little ol sammi

then we have 358/2 days for the DS which i never replayed cause it was tedious af which is all about the organization and roxas’s time in the organization and meeting his best buds axel and xion and saix standing in the corner being a jealous little binch PLEASE SAIX JUST BE NICE THEYLL GIVE YOU ICE CREAM TOO IF YOU ASK POLITELY Xion is another replica except shes a replica of sora but something got messed up and she got his memories of kairi which is why she looks like her but with black hair for whatever reason, i think nomura just wanted a cool goth girl to add to the series and we all thank him for it, and she and roxas become so close they kinda start influencing that weird memory shit going on and xion keeps trying to leave the organization to set things right but axel always gets stuck with the icky jobs and we got the iconic GO ON YOU JUST KEEP RUNNIN BUT ILL ALWAYS BE THERE TO BRING YOU BACK and i think around this time roxas is also super fed up with the organization and decides FUCK YALL IM DONE and punches saix and leaves. but xion finds him and they have a cool boss battle sequence got i love you xion you are a POWERHOUSE but roxas defeats her and she dies and its the saddest thing in the world AND NOBODY REMEMBERS HER WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT!!!! anyway roxas decides hes gonna punch kingdom hearts next cause it was xions last wish but riku, who is sporting a cool blindfold for edge, is like HEY WE NEED YOU TO WAKE UP SORA and roxas is all SORA THIS SORA THAT I DONT GIVE A FUCK and tey fight! and riku loses cause roxas has two keybladees! OBLIVION IS THE BEST KEYBLADE IT LOOKS SUPER COOL I LOVE IT SO MUCH WOW but riku rips off his blindfold and summons the darkness and he takes on ansems, xehanorts heartless, appearance and he squeezes roxas until he passes out and then they yeeted roxas into a data twilight town for a few days.

so enter kh2 with the 6 hours roxas tutorial in the data twilight town until he goes to find sora and returns to him. SO FINALLY AFTER AN ENTIRE YEAR sora wakes up with all his proper memories and so does donald and goofy and theyre like COOL LETS GO FIND RIKU AND KING MICKEY and they go journeying around the worlds again to stop the organization. meanwhile axels gettin desperate to see his best friend for life roxas again and kidnaps kairi but shes like HEY I AINT HAVING THAT and runs off and ends up in twilight town but axel finds her and kidnaps her anyway but then saix kidnaps her to the world that never was. and so soras like WE GOTTA GO SAVE KAIRI AND RIKU NOW cause by the way earlier like midpoint of the game maybe Mickey was like SAY FELLAS DID SOMEONE MENTION THE DOOR TO DARKNESS and its one of my favorite quotes in this hell franchise, so like THYE KNOW KING MICKEY IS OK that just leaves kairi and riku and stopping the organization. so they find kairi and they find riku and sora cries a bit and im just happy the destiny trio is together again. And DiZ showed up again, hes actually ansem the wise, and he talks about computers and hearts and research and xemnas, the organizations leader, is likeI WAS YOUR APPRENTICE! BUT YOU DIDNT LET ME DO ILLEGAL HUMAN EXPERIMENT SON HEARTS SO I KICKED YOU OUT AND RREMOVED MY OWN HEART AND THATS WHY THERES A HEARTLESS AND A NOBODY OF XEHANORT and ansem the wise is like YEAH BITCH and he explodes and riku turns back to normal but he also really needs a haircut. so they go punch xemnas in his zebra coat and riku and sora chill in the realm of darkness for about ten minute son the beach, i guess aqua was hanging out somewhere else, and they get a message form kairi in a bottle and the door to light opens and they go home and it was literally!!!!! a better fucking ending!!!! than kh3!!!!!!!!! thats my tea!!!!!!

so then we have KH3D, dream drop distance, which begins telling us ‘hey when you kill a heartless and a nobody that person is gonna be recompleted so uhhhhh xehanorts coming back Thats Not Good, make sora and riku do their mark of mastery test in the realm of sleep to get the power of waking’ and thats the whole game but its great because flowmotion! dream eaters!  TWEWY TWEWY TWEWY T W E W Y!!!!!! playable riku!!! fun worlds!!! soriku!!! except KH3D’s fatal flaw is THEY INTRODUCED TIME TRAVEL INTO THIS FUCKING COMPLEX HELL HOLE I WILL NEVER FORGIVE THEM FOR THAT. anyway rikus been doing a great hecking job!!!! except sora ended up in twtnw and kept chasing the dreams into the deepest pit of slumber and the organization broke his heart so they use him as one of xehanorts vessels [gesutres to my blog with will smith arms] yeeah babey. and riku is understandably like HEY GIVE ME MY FRIEND BACK and xehanort is like FUCK OFF TWINK and mickey and donald and goofy and axel, whos been recompleted as lea, arrive and steal comatose sora back form xehanort and xehanort monologues about the X-Blade split into 20 pieces- 7 of light, 13 of darkness- and so hes gonna make 13 vessels of darkness with his heart inside them and the guardians of light gotta gather 7 lights to clash and bringg about the keyblade war or bring about kingdom hearts, i-- i literally hate this series so much Why do you think i went on a year long hiatus??? i needed to calm the fuck down-- either way xehanort yeets off with his darknesses and soras STILL comatose and rikus like I WILL DIVE INTO HIS SLEEP AND SAVE HIM BECAUSE DEARLY BELOVED IS PLAYING AND if i continue this joke someones bound to get mad at me for ‘’’pushign a soriku agenda’’’ BUT YKNOW WHAT, RIKUS A REAL MVP AND PUNCHES A NIGHTMARE VEN AND SAVES SORA AND SORA HUGS HIM AND ITS GREAT AND I LOVE MY SONS SO MUCH and the kh3d ends with them saying ‘hey look kairis gonna do something!’ but Little Did We Know.

and thats your summary of what the fuck happened in kingdom hearts. i hate this game so much.

[tenchikothefangirl]

Where’s Henry?

In honor of a very special event that occurred today in the @ask-joeydrewstudios blog, I have actually decided to do my job and write something, dammit. This is the chaos I have created as a result this evening, at 11 p.m. Enjoy the chaos!

Every little sound was setting him on edge. Every creak of the door and every rustle of paper, was a break in the silence so thick Joey thought it must be made of cotton. He tried to direct his focus elsewhere—paperwork, scripts, reports from the maintenance crew. The words skittered and danced along the pages, mocking him.

Goddammit.

Joey was pretty sure he was losing his mind.

He tossed aside his pen, absently noting the ache in his hands. He rubbed the complaining joints and scanned around his office. Surely he had some sort of mindless busy work in need of attention around here.

Next thing he knew, he was walking out of his office and heading toward his apartment. He wasted an unreasonable amount of time making a fresh pot of tea, and by the time he was done, his counter was spotless, the trash can emptied, and the items in his refrigerator rearranged. Three times.

He didn’t even bother stepping back into his office. Instead, his cup in hand, he went straight for the animation department. If he sped up a little the closer he came, no one was there to see. His heart faltered when he rounded the corner to zero in on Henry’s desk. Empty. Not a single page of work was set (Henry always took his work home with him), and the chair was still pulled aside so the animator could slip into it as smoothly as possible.

Bendy sat next to the chair, not daring to touch a speck of dust. The little toon’s eyes brightened at first until he recognized that it was just his father. His tail fell limp and wrapped around his left leg. Joey’s shoulders fell at the sight. Bendy and Joey looked at one another, but didn’t say a word.

In the room across from Henry’s desk, the rest of the animation team was busy but tense. There was nothing but frowns, and Joey caught a few tense murmurs rumbling among them. One man even snipped at his neighbor.

“Mr. Drew?”

The man behind the voice stood behind him sorting through a collection of papers. Oh, this was one of the newbies. What was his name again? It started with an A…

Joey stepped out of the way, but had to ask, “Has Henry showed up yet?”

The young man quirked a brow, unsurprised. “Sorry, sir, but no.”

“Has anyone gotten any calls from him?”

The man shrugged. “As far as I know, no.”

Joey nodded, his grip on his cup’s handle tightening. He let the young man return to his work, and retreated back to his office where he soon set aside his untouched cup next to the other four.

Joey Drew might have thought he was doing well, keeping his worries in check and away from everyone else, but unfortunately, his mood was a plague that spread fast and infected everyone else in the studio.

As a matter of fact, things were already coming to a head in the break room.

“Can you believe it!?” Sammy raged, slamming his cup of coffee onto the table. “Joey has come in and out of my department six times—six times—today, telling me how to do my job! I swear if the tapes weren’t still rolling, I would have clobbered the bastard!”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Susie grabbed Sammy by the arm and dragged him into the nearest chair. His scowl never wavered, but his leg was bouncing so fast, the table rattled.

Shawn, who had been listening to Sammy’s incessant tirade, frowned. “I’d hate to say it, but I can understand that completely.” He groaned as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “It’s one thing to get a surprise visit every once ’n a while, but this is ridiculous. Hardly an hour into my work, and Mr. Drew is in and out, scannin’ over every doll we make.” His face screwed up in distaste. “Not a word said between a hello and a goodbye.”

Lacie scoffed and joined the table. “At least you don’t have Mr. Drew ask’n for progress reports every hour. Can’t do a lick of work with him breathin’ down my neck.”

“Joey’s just been having a weird day,” Susie said calmly. Another unnamed employee offered Susie a drink that she politely declined.

“Yeah, but it was creepy,” Shawn said.

“And annoy’n” Lacie added while Sammy nodded.

“If ya wanna talk creepy—“ Wally walked into the break room, mop clasped in an iron hold. “Get this: Henry’s not here.”

All movement in the room stopped. Everyone stared at Wally, before Sammy broke the silence with a snort.

“Very funny, Franks.”

“No, I wish I was that funny! He’s really not here.”

“What are you talk’n about, Wally, that man’s always here,” Lacie replied. “It’s a wonder he ever leaves.”

“Oh yeah? I can prove it!”

“Oh here we go.”

Wally stuck his tongue at Sammy and said, “Just look.” He marched over to the cabinet. With a grand wave of the hand, he threw open the door. It swung open with a clatter. It almost rattled shut, but Wally caught it. He gestured toward the top shelf.

Everyone became quiet.

Susie, hesitant, slowly rose from her chair. Her heels clicked loudly along the hardwood floor as she walked. She almost wavered before reaching for the item on the shelf, and she examined it as though it was a cursed, foreign object.

With wide eyes, she looked at the group, and held up the item. “It’s…it’s Henry’s mug.”

A chair shrieked, and Sammy was at her side in a flash. He snatched the mug from her hands. After a solid five minutes of scrutiny… “Holy shit, it’s clean.”

“Yeah, and so’s his desk,” Wally said, a smug grin on his face. “See for yourself.”

One of the unnamed employees ran out of the room and down the hall. After a tense minute, the remaining group heard the guy scream, “OH MY GOD!”

In record time, the entire studio was uncomfortably aware that Henry Batim was not at work today, and Joey definitely had not scheduled a week off for him. Some checked their calendars and annoyed the secretary three or four times just to be sure. The animators were harassed, but not one of them could explain this phenomenon away. The gossipers got more incredulous as this sick game of telephone circulated.

Some even say that Grant Cohen stepped out of his office to ask around himself.

The members of the main crew who were still gathered in the break room stared at one another, in disbelief, worry hanging over their heads like a dark, stormy cloud.  

“Should…” Susie began, “Should someone call his house to check on him?”

No one moved.

“I’ve tried a coupla times already.” Wally shook his head, leaning heavily on his mop. He made the cut-throat motion with his hand. “Nada.”

“This is bullshit,” Sammy said, still staring at the mug.

“I’m telling ya, it’s a sign of the apocalypse. And you can bet that when the sky falls, I’m outta here.”

Bendy sat at Henry’s desk, trying not to fidget. He wanted to curl into a ball but didn’t dare when there were so many people in the next room. So many witnesses… When that one rando employee had run off screaming, Bendy felt his panic rise, but he stubbornly refused to move.

“He’s just a little late,” he mumbled. “Papa said so, so he must be.” He wrapped his arms around his legs. “He’s gotta be.”

“Bendy? Are you still here?” Bendy looked up to see Alice standing over him. Her hands were on her hips, but her frown was a concerned one. She got herself situated on the ground with him. “It’s been hours, Bendy.”

“I’m waiting for Henry.” He scowled and faced the wall.

Alice sighed. “This is getting ridiculous.” Bendy ignored her. “Haven’t you set up that ink bucket yet?” she asked.

Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.

“I think there’s a slice of cake that Sammy hasn’t eaten yet,” Alice said. “It’s double layer. You could scrape off the icing in the middle and replace it with ink, no problem.”

Wonder how much longer it’ll take for Henry to come? Hopefully Papa Drew will give him a earful for all this trouble.

Alice hummed and then gasped. “What about that invisible ink? You annoyed Wally for hours about it yesterday.” She poked the back of his head. “Don’t you wanna try it?” she asked playfully.

“No.”

Alice recoiled. Although Bendy didn’t see it, a scowl formed on her face. If she was a colored toon, her face would have become boiling red. “Okay that does it.”

Faster than he could have thought possible—and, for a toon, that was saying something—Alice scooped him up and threw him over her shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down, Al! Alice!” He pounded his fists on her shoulder and squirmed like a drowning snake. “Lemme go, you jerk!”

“Bite me. I dare you,” she shot back. “We’re fixing this right now, or so help me—“ As soon as she passed by the stairs, she shouted, “BORIS! DRAG YOUR TAIL UP TO PAPA DREW’S OFFICE. NOW!”

By the time Alice toed their father’s office door open, Bendy gave up struggling in favor of making himself dead weight for his sister to lug around. Boris caught up to them, tail dragging and ears pressed to the back of his head. Alice ignored them both and marched inside.

“Papa?” Alice called as she came in. Joey looked up just in time to see Alice hold Bendy up by the arms. “This”—She gave Bendy a careful shake—“and this”—she used Bendy to gesture to Boris—“is a problem.” She then dropped Bendy like a sack of potatoes, and he yelped.

“What was that for!?”

Alice ignored him and marched over to the door. “Oh, and did I forget about this?”

She wrenched the door open, and if one listened carefully, they could hear the sound of someone screaming in the hallway about Henry’s empty desk. Her point made, she snapped the door closed and moved aside a seventh untouched cup of tea so she could place her hands on their father’s desk.

“Papa,” she asked softly, “where’s Henry?”

Joey was quiet for a minute there, the senseless scribbles on his papers long forgotten. He was an absolute mess. Although he’d begun the day no better or worse than any other day, his vest was now hanging on a chair while his sleeves were pushed back as far as possible (the ceiling fan was at its highest setting as well), and his bowtie hung loose. His hair looked like it’s been combed through with his fingers multiple times, and he kept tapping his pen against the blank paper at an obnoxiously rapid pace.

Tptptptptptptptptptptp

Joey took in a deep breath, the taps slowing. “Honestly, sweetie…I…I don’t know.” There was a moment allowed for it to sink in. “I don’t know…and it’s driving me crazy.”

Bendy and Boris jumped while Alice slid easily out of the way when their father suddenly stood to pace.

“I don’t know where he is, why he hasn’t come in, and he isn’t answering his phone—believe me, I couldn’t begin to recall how many times I—” He sucked in a deep breath. He rubbed his temples, brows furrowed, and let out a loud sigh.

Bendy and Boris exchanged worried looks. What could they do? Papa Drew was usually so calm and easy going. If things were this bad, then…what did that say about Henry being missing?

“Papa,” Alice said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it would be a good idea if you headed over to Henry’s house.”

Joey blinked, dumbfounded.

“It’s mayhem in here,” Alice said, flinging her arms in the air, “More than usual! Everything’s gone bananas because Henry’s not here. You need to check up on him.”

There was a long stretch of silence. Joey looked from one toon to the other. Bendy shuffled his feet, anxious. Boris’s eyes shone, worried and sad. Alice offered her father a confident nod. After a second, Joey slowly began to nod as well.

“You’re right,” he mumbled slowly. The toons jolted when Joey suddenly slapped his hands on the desk. “You are absolutely right.” He seemed to spring back to life as he went about gathering items around the office. He opened up his desk drawer and started rifling through his things as he rambled on, “You three go let the others know that I’ll be out for a bit. Oh where are my keys?”

Moving closer to his father, Boris scanned the desk, and his eyes eventually lit up. “Oh right there!” He pointed them out to Joey.

“Thank you!” Joey fished them out. “It shouldn’t take too long. Their house is about…eh, twenty minutes away—”

Alice offered Joey his vest. He slid into it as best he could, still rambling, “I’ll call to let you all know what’s going on, so stay by the phone, and I’ll—“

Prrrrrrrring Prrrrring!

Joey and the toons jumped when the ringing began.

Prrrrring!

Speak of the devil.

Prrrrring!

The four all looked at each other, and then they looked at the phone vibrating on the wall. Joey practically charged after the phone, the toons skittering behind him. He snatched the phone off its cradle and pressed it into his ear so fast, he was almost certain he’d snap the chord.

“Henry!?” he asked immediately. His heart was pounding as he waited to hear an answer.

“Joey—”

Oh thank GOD! “Oh my GOODNESS,” he cried, relief flooding his veins. His boy’s voice was the greatest thing he’d heard all day. The toons looked at one another, eyes alight.

“Where on earth are you??” Joey demanded, “Are you OKAY!? Do you even know how late you are!?”

Did Joey even know how late it was!? When was the last time he looked at a clock? “I have been worried sick all day—”

“Joey.”

Joey had half a mind to tell Henry to not Joey him young man, but he was already on a roll. “I was about ready to come check in on you two.”

The toons were trying to listen to Henry’s end of the line, but clearly they knew better than to get close while Joey’s voice was starting to rise.

“I mean, you NEVER just NOT COME IN without some kind of call prior—”

—And nothing short of death would usually stop Henry from coming i—Oh god. Dianne. The baby!

“E-even if you couldn’t, then Diane would—”

But she didn’t. Oh god. Oh god!

“And yet, WHAT ON—“

“JOEY!”

“WHAT!?”

From the other end of the line, Joey could hear Henry take in a deep breath. When he spoke again, Henry’s voice was soft, almost in reverent disbelief. Quietly, he said, “You’re a grandfather, Joey.”

His panic jerked to an abrupt halt, and it took him a moment for the words to register. The toons became nervous when Joey didn’t say anything. Meanwhile, Joey could only imagine the grand smile spreading across Henry’s face. It took a second for him to realize that his own lips were pulling into a small smile.

“…Really?!”

((Aaaand then Grandpa Drew runs out of the studio and leaves his kids to explain what the heck just happened. It takes a bit for everyone to calm the frick down. Joey might have forgotten his wallet.

 Happy Birthday, Ben. Welcome to the nuthouse—I mean family

—Tenchiko))

[archangelgabriellives]

Lurking behind the trees

I finally finished my fic for the Gabriel monthly challange for January. Cutting it a little close, yeah?

Word count-4800 (yeesh)

warnings ~ snarky language, mild fight scene

A/N ~ As I was reading through and proofreading this, I got the feeling it was a little Sam heavy.Gabriel is still what I would consider a main character, though. I really wanted to get that BAMF Sam in this fic, but maybe it detracts a little bit? Eh, I’m not sure. I’m going to post it as it is and still tag it for the GMC, but, Admins, feel free to make a judgement call. 

Let me know if you like it! Or if I was way off base.

***

It feels like they had been here forever.

Dean reminds Sam of this many times. And every time Dean brings it up again, Sam has to remind him that it had only been a day. But after each rise and fall of the distressingly unfamiliar sun in the sky, Sam is starting to feel the same way as Dean.

But they were surviving in this weird jungle universe. Priority number one, obviously, was to find a way to get back to their own world. They walked as far as their legs would take them, searching for anything out of the ordinary, something that may be a doorway, something that would connect them with Jack, as he may be the only one who could retrieve them from this place.

After four days, Sams' hope was wearing thin.

Surviving was easy. The Winchesters were hunters. Finding food, water, shelter, that was no problem. Although, eating anything that first day was a litany of "You eat it." "No, you eat it first." After Dean lost the rock paper scissors game, the brothers learned not to eat the berries on the strange pine/willow tree. Not unless they wanted to spend half the day expelling all the bodily fluids from their person.

After a week, Sam wasn't sure they could ever find their way out.

Danger here was a constant. They were never seen, but at night, Sam would be woken up with the jungle whispering in a foreign tongue, sticks and debris shuffling around without care. Whatever was out there didn't care if they were known. Sam would sit up from his makeshift bed by the dim fire, Dean already awake and ready for a fight.

“What the hell is out there?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean responded while throwing more wood into the fire pit. "Whatever they are, they never come too close. I think the fire scares them."

After a quick scan of the forest surrounding them, Sam looks over to his older brother, notices the dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you even sleeping, Dean?" Was it just the shadows of the fire on Deans lean face?

Dean smiled at Sam, the kind of smile he uses when he wants to change the subject. "I'm fine, Sammy." He goes back to sharpening some sticks with a jagged rock.

That, of course, means Just drop it.

The things in the forest never came closer, just out of range of the fire light. Sam's grateful, but he wished they would just show themselves so he knew what was lurking in the dark.

 ~~

 Dean was going stir crazy, Sam could tell.

"I need some flesh to eat, Sam, or I might shrivel up and die! No more fruit!" Dean was pacing along a giant fallen tree that was their makeshift shelter.

"Dude, you could phrase that better. You sound like a cannibal or something" Sam said as he poked at the fire with a stick.

"Whatever, bitch. I'm gonna take my pointy stick and bring back a steak."

"Just be careful, jerk,” Sam said with a smile. “I'll start peeling potatoes."

Dean groaned at his brothers teasing him with delicious food. His mouth was watering at remembering anything cooked in lots of fat and grease, as he called back "I hate you right now. I'll be back later."

It was a little late in the day to go out, alone, in an unknown landscape, but Sam thinks Dean knows what he's doing. So he doesn't voice the small concern and continues to prod the fire.

As the sun started to set and Dean still hadn't returned, Sam is considerably more worried. He thinks he should go out in search of his brother, but it's dark now, and running off into the woods is a seriously bad idea. All he can do is keep the fire lit as a beacon and not panic too much.

Easier said than done.

 ~~

 Sam startles awake the next morning.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep, he needed to keep his eyes and ears open for signs of Dean.

"Dean?" he called.

No answer.

"Dean!" Sam scrambled to his feet, the dread bubbling up from the pit of his stomach.

"DEAN!" Any common sense Sam had flew right out of his body when he realized Dean still wasn't back. He ran off the way his brother left the night before, leaving behind his knife on the ground next to his makeshift bed. Sam weaved through the dense trees, vaulted over fallen branches calling his brothers name.

"Dean! Where are you?!"

He should have known better that to call attention to himself. Even back home he understood the necessity of stealth. A hunter needs to be able to sneak up on his prey, not call the monster to you. But when the only family you have left, and the only person stuck with you in a jungle wasteland, goes missing, the brain acts in mysterious ways. So when he circled around a massive tree trunk and had to skid to a stop he knew that he had made a huge mistake.

Three hooded figures, each brandishing some type of long wooden club, were blocking Sams path. And, although he couldn't see their faces, Sam knew he was in for a fight. They were shouting in a language Sam couldn’t begin to identify, but furious and enraged sounded the same on any tongue.

Sam got the message.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’re going to attack one at a time is there?” Sam asked snidely, balling his fists and digging his feet into the ground.

No sooner than the words left his mouth, all three figures charged forward, brandishing their staffs viciously. Sam backpedaled a little, surprised at the sudden ambush. The quickest of the three, unfortunately the largest, drew his weapon back and with a deafening screech, swung at Sam with all its strength.

There was barely enough time for Sam to block the impact with a raised forearm, cursing through gritted teeth at the sharp pain. The hunter pulled his right fist back, and threw his entire weight and power into connecting with the face buried under the dirty fabric, his own cry echoing through the trees. He could feel bones cracking under his knuckles, and as he sent the monster tumbling into the leafy debris, Sam knew he wasn’t getting back up.

Chest huffing, Sam turned to the other two figures, head tilted and eyeing them angrily through his bangs. Their speed had decreased significantly, clearly not expecting for this seemingly easy fight to take this turn. Sam lurched forward, ready to take them both on, adrenaline pumping fast in his veins. He smoothly bent down and scooped up the discarded staff from his first victim, he needed it if he wanted to stand a chance against the last two. The few seconds of distraction allowed one of the beasts a swing of his own staff that connected with Sams side, knocking him to his knees. He saw the foot racing at him out of the corner of his eye, a swift kick to the face that knocked Sam on his back, blood starting to flow down his face. His vision cleared just in time to see two twin clubs raised over heads, ready to deal the death blow, and there was barely enough time to raise his own before they came down.

After blocking the double blow,the hunter brought his legs up, curled his knees to his chest, and kicked out at the closest attacker. Feet connected with the torso, sending it flailing to the ground. Sam assumed he must've winded it, because it didn't get up right away. Just kind if thrashed a little while it clutched at its chest.

Sam didn't see the fist coming down, smashing into his jaw. He cried out sharply as the pain rippled through his face, and he instinctively rolled away from the source of the attack. The last hooded figure was roaring what Sam could only assume was obscenities at him as he spit an unnerving amount of blood onto the ground. He tongued along his gums and groaned when he comes across a painful empty space in his teeth.

While the thing was still howling at him, Sam quickly rolled back over to his back, hoped his plan would work, and brought the heel of his boot straight into where Sam assumed it would do the most damage, right between the legs of his attacker.

Thankfully for Sam, it had the desired effect, because the unintelligible screaming quieted suddenly. With a painful grunt, the monster dropped to its knees, and one more well placed kick to the face had it spinning back into the ground, out cold.

Sam lay in the dirt trying to catch his breath. “I guess a kick to the dick is pretty universal,” he said to himself. As he pulled himself up and raked the leaves from his hair, he came eye to eye with one more opponent, the one he only winded.

“Great,” he grumbled. “Thought I took care of you.”

Sam leaned down to retrieve the staff he had abandoned, and wound up like it was a baseball bat.

“Let’s go, then.”

Sam must’ve had a particular glint in his eyes, or the smirk on his face was a distinct sort of evil, because that beast took one last look at Sam, ditched his weapon, and bolted in the opposite direction.

He almost let it go, he really did. But as his muscles relaxed and he tried to wipe the blood out of his eyes, Sams thoughts flitted back to Dean, and how his only lead was quickly getting away. If Dean had been captured, attacked or even…no, Sam couldn’t think that…

If these things hunted in groups, there must be a larger pack somewhere. And if they had Dean, Sam needed to move his ass to catch up to the fleeing beast.

Sam took off like a rabbit, trying to make up the lost ground between them. His long legs had no trouble closing the gap, but as he got closer to his target Sam had to slow down so he could advance with stealth. And soon he could hear other beings yelling in the unknown language he heard during his fight.

He slowed his steps to a cautious crawl, the name of the game now was recon. How many are there, do they have Dean, can he do this on his own.

Up ahead, there was a large clearing that the monsters had set up their sizable camp. Ducking into a large thicket of low trees and bushes, Sam took stock of what he was up against. Makeshift shelters made from fallen logs and leaves formed a circle at least one hundred feet wide, with a few groups of monsters sporadically lounging by a few of the throwaway huts.

And tied to a tree outside of the camp was Dean, a bit bloody but alive, surrounded by five or six guards that looked a little spooked.

Sam quietly let out a shaky sigh of relief that Dean was alive. But he kept his emotions in check. Right now, Sam needed a plan. It looked like the monster that Sam had chased back to the camp had alerted the group about the prey that had fought back, and more armed defenders scrambled to the edge of the clearing seemingly waiting for Sam to burst out of the trees.

Like he was that stupid.

Racking his brain for an idea of how he was supposed to fight what seemed like dozens of baddies and get Dean and himself out of there alive, Sam missed the first heavy foot fall off in the distance. He did notice the eerie quiet that had suddenly settled around him.

The frantic yelling from the camp fell silent. If there were any animals in the area, they had all skittered off and knowingly kept quiet.

As the second foot step echoed in the distance, Sam couldn’t keep the surprised gasp from escaping his mouth. His grip on the stolen staff tightened as he watched the small army keeping him from his brother raise their weapons and nervously shift in the clearing.

Another foot step came down, closer this time. The ground started to shake under Sams crouched legs.

“What the hell is that?!” Dean questions to no one as he doubled his efforts to escape his binds, clearly aware that something extremely bad was coming.

As the next booming foot step fell, a sharp, high pitched ringing echoed through the air. It started quiet at first, muted enough that Sam almost missed it. The unnerving footsteps were louder, closer, and the ground was rumbling so badly that Deans captors were stumbling and falling all over. A few had already run off, not willing to stay and find out who or what was coming.

The shrill noise slowly gained volume, increasing as the steps came closer. To Sam, yes, it was getting louder, but the way that the bodies in the clearing were dropping to their knees and clutching at their heads seemed like a bit much. Even Dean was trying to protect his ears by awkwardly lifting his shoulders, still tied to the tree, his face contorted into the familiar grimace of pain.

Sam was still unaffected. He watched the monsters rolling on the ground, howling in pain. He was plotting a course around the mass of crumpled bodies to retrieve Dean and run as far and fast as they could, then, all of a sudden, the writhing and the screeching stopped. In fact, as Sam looked out over the clearing, it looked like every being had gone stock-still, bodies arranged in the position of agony. The entire forest seemed petrified.

It seemed that everything but Sam had stopped.

Everything but Sam and the lumbering footsteps that boomed threateningly behind him.

Sam swallowed in fear. It sounded like something the size of a mountain was slowly stalking towards him. And only him. But he couldn’t run. Wouldn’t run. He wouldn’t leave Dean.

Through ragged breaths, Sam turned his head to see what horrors lay through the forest. Straight behind him, the trees seemed normal. But as his eyes traveled up the thick trunks, up past the high canopy, past a few birds frozen in flight, was a thing that Sam couldn't even begin to describe.

It was incredibly tall. The thing seemed to stretch on forever. Its head was high enough in the sky to touch the low clouds.

There were wings. Dozens of sets of technicolor wings,  glowing blindingly ethereal light that surround the entire body. And they didn't just come out of it back. They seemed to come out of everywhere, yet they didn't look like any were attached to the body. The largest set was massive, the bulk of them pushing past the clouds, unviewable to Sam down on the ground. The rest of the wings were smaller, sporadically jutting out over the creatures body.

Spindly appendages hung loosely down the sides of the torso. They were probably thick as tree trunks but looked as delicate and fragile as glass. All along the length were offshoots of the glassy skin that spread out in all direction. As the tendrils flowed up past the shoulders, they surrounded the head, creating amazing patterns and encircling it like a crown.

The face was unnerving, to say the least. There were no distinct features that Sam could identify. The only part that looked in any way familiar was the sunken pockets where he assumed eyes should go. Everything else was more coils of sleek membrane that sloped back and up to the sky, mingling with the others from the body.  

Inside its chest, the silhouette of what might have been described as organs were swirling wildly. Everything slowly undulated as it walked, yet the entirety of it felt sharp, like it could rip apart anything in its wake with barely a touch.

And Sam was right in its path.

He knew he should be silent. Stay hidden, let this thing pass by. He could figure out why he was unaffected by whatever powers of time it apparently had after he and Dean had gotten far away from it.

That's what the sensible part of Sams brain should have thought. Unfortunately, that bit of Sams brain wasn’t working right now.

As the gigantic being trudged through the clouds, Sam clumsily backtracked out of his hiding place, tripping over a fallen branch. The unexpected movement caused a sharp cry to escape him as soon as he hit the ground, a little sound of pain diluted in a shriek of horror.

He clamped a hand over his mouth as soon as the sound slipped out. His breath coming in harsh shallow gasps, Sam scrambled back into the thick brush and hoped that he was out of earshot of the being. He hid himself among the leaves and cursed quietly as he saw this giant thing slow to a stop and its head tilt to the side, like it was listening.

He watched as it stretched all of its wings out in every direction, its back straightening making it even taller. The feathers started shifting, spreading. Sams eyes grew wide as behind the feathers, eyes appeared to open all over the wings. Thousands of eyes of varied sizes, sprinkled randomly, looking out in every direction. They resembled human eyes, but the colorings were all different. Sclera, irises and pupils shifted through every color in the spectrum, pulled patterns out of nature into them and glinted playfully in the light.

Sam made the mistake of one loud shocked gasp, and fell back out of his hiding spot when every single eye suddenly trained themselves onto him.

The long arms moved slowly from where they hung at its side. They reached out to Sam as the being lazily began to crouch down, and the trees seemed to part of their own accord. Massive hands settled on either side of Sam, the featureless face coming closer and closer. Sam could only stare as a narrow slit opened along the face. He expected a mouth, with teeth and a tongue. But inside was the universe, swirling blacks and blues, neverending.

It spoke. A thousand voices rang from the open fissure, but no movement was needed. The sound was deafening, yet restrained. Melodious. It echoed with wisdom and brassy vibrations and the age of the world buried within its depths.

“What the hell are you doing here, Winchester?!”

Confusion colored Sams face, and his fear receded a bit at the odd outburst. “What?” he whispered to himself. “How do you know who…”

“Close your eyes you idiot!” the voice yelled at Sam, its wings twitching as it scrunched a little closer. “You’re gonna burn them right out of your skull!” Sam only looked up bewildered. “HEY! Close ‘em!”

“Sorry.” Sam mumbled as he quickly did as he was told, covering his eyes with his hands. “Um, what-” Sam paused, tried to gain a little control over his quivering voice. “Who are you?”

A noise Sam would describe as terrifying laughter reverberated around him, but the sound was good natured. It almost tickled. “Has it been so long that everyone’s forgotten me? I think you can move your hand. If you haven’t dissolved into a puddle of primordial goo or spewed fire hotter than a thousand suns out of your many orifices yet, I think you’re safe to look at me.”

“Yeah,I’d rather not just take you at your word and keep my organs in a solid form, thank you. Are you going to tell me who you are?”

The thing above him chuckled again, “Still so sassy, even in the face of mortal danger.” Sam could hear a quiet rustling around him, and then shivered when he felt something softly brush up his arm. It was warm, velvety. Safe flashed across Sams mind.

“What was that?” Sam asked apprehensively, although he didn't turn away from the touch.

“One of my feathers,” it answered softly. “Come on, open your eyes, kiddo.”

At the nickname, realization flashed in Sams mind.

“Gabriel,” he whispered as his hands dropped into his lap.

“Ding ding ding! Correct, Sam a lam! Here’s your prize.” The wing that had touched him earlier drifted up and touched his forehead gently. The broad tip of the feather trailed across then down Sam's blood stained cheek and jaw. The warm tingle of Gabriels Grace chased the soft path of the radiant plume, healing the cuts and cleaning his skin.

Sam closed his eyes at the pleasant feeling snaking under his skin. As the sense of the healing Grace faded, Sams hands skimmed along his freshly healed face, fingers prodding his jaw where he no longer had a painful gap of a missing tooth. His eyes slowly traveled up, confusion written in his features, and he stared blankly at the giant archangel. Gabriels mouth turned up at the corners, still gaping open in front of Sam.

“What are you doing here?”

“Really, Sam? I look like this and that’s the first thing you think to ask?” Gabriel sank his body down gracefully to curl up on the ground. “Not ‘How are you not dead?’, ‘Why do you look like that?’ or ‘Why has timed stopped around me like I’m the narrator in a Twilight Zone episode?’”

Sam would have sent a top notch bitch face towards Gabriel, but he didn’t know where to look at the archangel. Were there a set of eyes that were the main set?

“Or maybe a better question for yourself,” Gabriel slid closer to Sam, causing the hunter to shuffle backwards, “‘How is it possible for me to look upon the true form of an archangel and still find him so damn attractive?’”

“Okay,” Sam huffed, climbing to his feet, raking his hands through his hair and standing as tall as he could. Not that his six foot four frame would be able to intimidate a being who was topping out at two thousand feet. “I have no idea what's going on anymore. First you were dead and now you're not, everything is frozen-,”

A sudden thought crashed into Sam, and he froze.

“Am I… am I dead? That's it, isn't it. Oh, well, that’s just great.”

“You’re not dead, Sam.” Gabriel chuckled at the tiny humans’ snit. “You’re just...unique. I mean, it’s not everyday I come across someone I can really stretch out in front of. I knew there was a reason that I liked you.”

“Well, if i’m not dead, I need to save Dean. So, if you don’t mind, you can either help or stay out of my way.”

Sam ignored the lighthearted laughter around him as he turned to collect his frozen brother, on guard in case the world decided to spring back to life at a wave of Gabriels hand.

As he reached the edge of the forest, a small hand grabbed Sams shoulder before he could step into the clearing. He turned to see the all too familiar vessel of the archangel.

“I told you, Sam, I like you. I’ll take care of this.”

Sam wondered when Gabriel had tucked himself back into his vessel. Where was he keeping that? he thought to himself.

As Gabriel sauntered confidently into the clearing, he lifted the veil of stillness on the world. To Dean and the monsters, it just seemed as though the sharp ringing noise simply had stopped. Bodies dragged themselves off the ground, looking at the others in confusion and bewilderment. Dean was the first to see the formerly dead archangel strutting towards him with a smug smile.

“Gabriel?” Dean yelled. “What the hell? What are you doing here?”

“Wow, bucko. Do you and your brother telepathically share stupid questions?”

“Sam?” Dean furrowed his brows in anger. “What did you do to him, you dick with wings?! I’m gonna kill you with your angel blade all over again!”

“How are you going to do that tied to a tree?” Gabriel asked as he rolled his eyes. His smile morphed into a smirk when Deans anger turned to embarrassment. Gabriel turned his attention to the crowd of monsters. “Okay, listen up you knock off jawas. This sack of meat,” he pointed fervently at Dean, who pursed his lips at the moniker, “is coming with me. I would say don’t bother stopping me, but please, do try. I could use the exercise.”

A murmur grumbled through the horde of monsters that had gathered at Gabriels appearance. It got louder and louder, practically screaming at Gabriel, brandishing their weapons at him.

“I don’t think their going to give me up that easy!” Dean called over the noise.

You may want to shut your eyes, Dean-o

Dean’s seen enough burnt out eye sockets to follow the order that wisps through his mind.

As the mob surged suddenly forward, battle cries screeching and ready to kill this new intruder, Gabriel raised his arms smoothly. With his palms facing out, he reached down deep into himself, dragging out his Grace in a blinding flare of golden light. The entire clearing was lost in the brilliant glow, and the angry yelling of his enemies became anguished cries before they were silenced all together.

The bright light slowly drew back, retreating into Gabriels vessel. The only sign left of the hooded figures were the large scorch marks in the ground, lightly smoking holes where bodies had fallen.

Sam rushed forward into the clearing to get to his brother, gently grasping Gabriels shoulder in a silent thank you as he passed by the smaller man.

“Dean. Hey, you can open your eyes now,” Sam said as he untied the rope at Deans wrists. As the bindings fell to the ground, Sam pulled Dean into a quick hug. “I’m glad you're safe, Dee.”

“Gosh, this is just a wonderful brotherly moment. Hits me right here.” Gabriel walked over, hand tapping on his heart. The brothers sheepishly detached from one another and shifted uncomfortably on their feet. “So I rescued your bro, killed the bad guys, saved the day all around, what do you guys wanna do now?”

“Uh, how about go home?” Dean suggested, a little venom in his voice left over from when Gabriel was still the Trickster. “We’ve been stuck here for too long and I’m sure people are looking for us.”  

“Go home?! That’s boring.” Gabriel replied. “You’re in a different universe, Dean. You don’t want to explore it at all?”

“If I still had my gun, I would shoot you,” Dean deadpanned at the archangel.

“”Dean, please. Just calm down a second. Gabriel, can you actually get us back home?”

“Of course I can. Jumping universes is easy peasy. But, seriously Sam, why?”

“Don’t whine just because you don’t want to go back,” Dean chimed in. “So snap us back. Let’s go.” He snapped his own fingers hoping it would prompt Gabriel to do the same.

“I know where all the dinos are.” Gabriel said in a sing song voice, nonchalantly looking anywhere but at Dean.

“Where the what are?” Well, that piqued Deans interest.

“Hmm?” Gabriel glanced back at Dean, his arms crossed, seemingly unconcerned with the hunters attention. “Oh, yes. The dinosaurs. I know where they like to hide.”

Deans eyes suddenly lit up, and Sam thought he looked like he might jump out of his skin with excitement.

“Well, why are we standing around here, then? Lead the way, short stack!”

“Hey! I’m an all powerful being. You should show me some respect or I’ll let the bad lizards eat you.”

“So I guess I don’t get a say in this?” Sam called as Dean and Gabriel practically skipped off together.

“Don’t worry, Samster.” Gabriel snapped his fingers as he yelled back over his shoulder. “Use your new cell phone to text your family. I’ll get you home. I’m a time traveling, universe jumping, sexy angel of the Lord, after all.”

Sam pawed at his pockets, confused until his hands discovered the cell phone Gabriels grace had materialized. He trailed behind Gabriel and Dean, jogging a little to keep up as he typed in Jody Mills’ number into the keypad from memory and sent her a message.

Hey Jody. Its Sam. Dean and I are safe. We caught a ride home. See you soon.

As he slipped the phone back into his pocket, Sam thought about what hunting with an archangel would be like, that is if he could convince Gabriel to stay. It was certainly going to be an adventure , because with Gabriel around, life would never be the same.

“Hey Dean, did you know I don’t need to wear the meat condom around your brother?”

“Ah man! Phrasing, Gabriel!”

----

This version of true form Gabriel is kind of a mix between the night walker from Princess Mononoke and an Angel from Neon Genesis Evangelion. Just creepy mixed with absurdity.

some tags

@revwinchester, @lacqueluster @archangel-with-a-shotgun  @ashiewesker. @gabriel-monthly-challenge

@azlinh @ourloveisforthelovely

[monotonemanday]

Star Crossed Entertainers - Part 9

People are skipping rehearsals, going on reckless drives. But that could turn into a cute date? Maybe some fluff? Maybe Sam will stop being such a downer? We’ll see! ;P Enjoy!!l

Kaeli’s arms were wrapped tight around Zen’s torso and her head was right next to his, peeking over his shoulder. They were zooming through back roads, twists and turns on an endless curvy path. Tree’s lined the streets and the sun was setting. Wearing her sundress her arms were getting cold. Each time a chill would run through her body she would tighten her hold on Zen even more. 

His face was so hot he wondered if she could feel the warmth through both their helmets since their heads were so close together. Zen’s heart was pounding and he couldn’t let off the throttle of the bike. He was going too fast, but all he was thinking about was the tiny pixie like blonde that was pasted on his back. Every time her arms tightened around him his heart would beat even faster. He took a turn too sharp and thought he might lose control of the bike. He brought his mind back down to earth and refocused on his driving. There is no way he would be responsible for anything happening to Kaeli. Besides…Sam would KILL him.

She didn’t mind the speed or the sporadic driving. She barely noticed. Kaeli loved the rush. Samantha, Kang-Dae, every employee that worked for him. They were all treating her like she was fragile. A baby. Zen treated her the way that she wanted. She felt free and in control of her own life. She wanted to be with him and when she was, no one was telling her how to behave, how to act or telling her to be cautious. 

Zen pulled off onto a dirt road that went deep into the tree line. About 5 minutes of driving in and they reached a clearing. A beautiful clearing with lush green grass and wildflowers blooming everywhere. In the middle of the clearing was a breathtaking pond. The sun was just about set and you could tell that the moon and stars would be out in full glory.

Turning off the bike, he almost didn’t want to get off just due to the fact Kaeli would have to take her hands off of him. Stepping off the bike and removing his helmet he hung it on the handle. Kaeli undid the strap under her chin and pulled the helmet off, her blonde hair falling out gently and resting just below her shoulders. Just like when he dropped her off a few nights before Zen lifted the petite woman off of the bike and gently placed her feet on the ground but this time he didn’t let her go.

The two held a gentle gaze, staring directly into each others eyes. Kaeli could see her bright blue eyes reflected in Zen’s ruby red eyes, and Zen could see his ruby red eyes reflected in Kaeli’s bright blue eyes. In turn the two were seeing purple.

Kaeli broke the gaze to look out toward the gorgeous scene laid out before them. The pond had light ripples due to the gentle breeze and as the moon and the stars came out they were being softly reflected in the water.

“Zen this is beautiful. Is this a place you come to often?”

“Oh, I’ve been here a couple times. Just when I needed to clear my thoughts.”

He couldn’t stop staring at her.

His hands were still settled on her waist but she had lifted her grip on his forearms so she could rub her arms to keep warm.

“Oh Jagiya, here.” The white haired prince took his jacket off and laid it across her shoulders.

“Jagiya?” Kaeli tilted her head and gave him a puzzled look. Then she looked away from him and back out towards the view.

Oh no. Was that too formal? Zen’s cheeks were burning. He was about to apologize when Kaeli spoke up.

“…No one has ever called me that before. Well at least not anyone that mattered.” She looked back at the handsome musical actor. “I like it.”

A strong hand had gripped hers tight and long fingers intertwined with her own. Zen led her to the base of the pond and the two sat in the lush grass with their feet just at edge of the water.

They sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. Holding hands, their palms were almost sweating from the warmth. Zen broke the silence this time.

“So a lot has happened this past couple of days. I didn’t know you would be such a handful, Little Pixie.” Zen laughed and gave her his brightest smile.

Kaeli couldn’t match his energy. She knew there were things she had to tell him, and even if she did, there would still be a lot more that she wouldn’t be able to. She hated that she kept secrets and would have to continue keeping them. Well at least for another couple of days.

“Yes. I guess you learned a good bit about me. I’m sure you’re curious about some things.”

“I’m not going to push you into telling me anything you don’t want to, Jagiya. I understand the kind of life you live. Did you know I used to be in a gang?”

“Sammy did.”

“Well I get it. It’s dangerous and you can never be too careful about who you open up to. But I trust you, Kaeli. And I don’t care if right now you are keeping things from me. We have time to flush everything out. Right now, I just enjoy being in your company.”

Kaeli looked toward Zen and smiled. “I’ll tell you everything I can.”

Samantha was back on the freeway. Rushing past each car like she was gracefully completing an obstacle course on ice skates. She loved the speed and she loved the feeling of leaving all her worries behind her. She hopped off the freeway and drove into town. She new exactly where she was headed. Her sunglasses were resting on top of her head since the sun was setting. Approaching a stop light downtown she pulled up next to another sports car. Their top was down same as her. It was a single person. A man. An older man. The kind of older man she’s been dealing with her whole life it seemed like. The kind she despised. The man looked over at her and leaned back. Laid his wrist on the steering wheel, obviously making sure he flashed his Rolex. He winked at her, and began to rev his engine.

Alright. Kang wants me to act like royalty? He says I’m rebellious? If that’s how they all see me, I’ll make sure I live up to what they envisioned. 

Sam rolled her eyes at the man and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes. She raised an eyebrow and continuing to stare at him, revved her engine in response. She pressed the CD button on the stereo and hit track number 4. It was a cliché but it was her absolute favorite. Joan Jett - Bad Reputation. She cranked the volume and without waiting for the light to change, charged through the intersection leaving the old pervert far in the rearview mirror. 

Sam pulled into the parking lot of a video arcade. She just wanted to blow off some steam. Some racing games, some shooters, maybe some pinball. However, she forgot that she was in a pencil skirt, a silk camisole, and a pair of stilettos. She had ditched the cardigan somewhere on the freeway. She wanted to feel the wind on her skin. Her hair was still curled but gained massive volume due to driving with the top down. She looked like a sexy librarian or a hot lawyer. Not making the connection to the way she looked and the fact that the place was going to be packed with a bunch of college boys, she carelessly sauntered in the front doors. 

She found her way to an empty machine. A shoot out game. She grabbed the plastic gun and held it in both hands, being cautious of her injury, taking a very familiar stance. You could tell she knew how to handle a gun. First round, every target hit. Second round, every target hit. Sharp focus. She didn’t notice the college boys rubbernecking to catch a glance at her. Tenth round, still every target hit. She had already surpassed the high score. 

A crowd had formed but still in her own head, Sam hadn’t noticed. They were chanting and cheering her on. Making rather icky comments about her. Now Twenty-two rounds in, a timid voice broke her out of her daze.

“Sam? Uhm, Samantha? Is that you?”

She stopped shooting and looked toward the small voice. She was met with blonde hair and big amethyst eyes. “Yoosung?”

“Yeah, It’s me! You remembered my name!”

“Of course I did, silly! Uhm what’s the deal with this sort of half circle deal going on behind me?”

“Oh well, uhm you kind of look like some sexy super spy. So you drew a bit of a crowd.”

Sam looked around at all the college kids gaping at her with their mouths open. Gross. 

“Alright shows over, get out of here ya vultures.”

Yoosung was laughing at the woman who was towering over him. She was already inches taller than him, but in stilettos? She was practically over a foot taller than him. “Sam shouldn’t you take it easy with those sharp shooting skills since you technically are a trained assassin and stuff?”

“Whoa Yoosung. Let’s keep it down, yeah? I know you learned a lot about me the other night but we still have to keep it quiet.” Sam was feeling a little uneasy. It probably wasn’t the best idea to go to an arcade that wasn’t strictly for adults. “Hey Yoosung, you’re of drinking age right?”

“I am!! Why do you ask?” The energetic blonde seemed overly thrilled by her inquiry.

“Do you want to grab a drink with me? There’s a place I think you’d like.” That was a lie. She had no idea if Yoosung would like it or not. She didn’t really know much about him at all. Just that he was fun and he considered them to be friends. She liked that.

The two made there way out of the arcade and through the parking lot to Sam’s porshe.

“Whoa! Sam this is your car?!”

“Oh uhm, yes! It was a gift some time ago. Buckle up!”

Yoosung was thrilled. Sam was driving so fast but she maneuvered the car like a dream! He had his arms in the air and was letting out abrupt “WWOOOOOO!!!” ‘s and OH YEAAAAHHH!!” ‘s.

They pulled up to what seemed to be a normal downtown building. A little bit like an Italian restaurant. 

Samantha opened the front door and Yoosung stuck his head inside. The only thing was a long stairway that went down. 

“Don’t be shy Yoosung! Go ahead!”

Yoosung walked down the stairs and Sam followed right on his heels. He opened the door. It was a Speakeasy. An underground bar that was lively and filled with laughter. Heads turned immediately and Yoosungs heart dropped to his stomach. Oh no. Should he not be here? He began to turn around to make his escape but a hand had pushed him forward. He met the eyes of what seemed like 100 people staring at him. He gulped waiting for what would happen next. 

“SAM!!!!”  The whole place bellowed out the tall brass haired woman’s name.

“Hey everyone! This is my pal Yoosung! He’s an absolute sweetheart and I don’t want any of you messing with him, got it?” She smiled at Yoosung and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He gave her a sheepish smile and she turned to the crowd. 

“Now where’s my drink, ya filthy animals?!”

Zen had just listened to Kaeli spill her heart out and not once did he interject. 

She had told him about how her and Sam had been best friends since they were 5 years old but they had lived together since senior year when her parents passed away in a plane crash. She explained that Samantha never had a family and was raised by Vanderwood. She explained that Samantha continuously saved her life. 

When it came to Reagan she was vague. She didn’t tell Zen that Reagan had tried to rape her. Or that Samantha almost killed him that night. She told him he was an ex and that he was the one that attacked them and gathered them for Kang-Dae. Just from that fact alone she could tell that a war was being battled inside of Zen. That’s why she left out the other details. She told him that she had to learn the high society life and the ways of an upscale escort. She told him that even though Samantha never admitted it, Kaeli knew Samantha made some sort of deal that made it so Kaeli didn’t have to do a lot worse. Explaining that Sam was an escort and a hired gun. Her background with the agency. How also due to Samantha’s sneaky ways Kaeli got to stop going on high society dates altogether and just handled PR work.

“Kaeli, You have lived a life that I can’t exactly relate to 100%. But when I was living my old life, in and out of gangs, taking care of myself after I ran away from home. I learned a lot about Kang-Dae and all of those circles. You are unbelievably strong and brave. If I could, I would take you away from it all. I am so glad that you’ve had Sam around to protect you.” The white haired prince looked out across the pond. “This is going to sound a little ridiculous but…I’m a little jealous of Sam.”

“Jealous of Sam?”

“Well, yeah. She is the closest person to you. She’s always been there to protect you and…well, I want to be that person.”

Kaeli’s eyes went wide and then they felt hot. Tears were pooling on the bottom of her eyes, resting on her eyelashes. 

“I understand you have a past, I have one too. But-”

“Zen?” She interrupted his sweet words and he looked over at her.

“Can I tell you about right now?”

“Sure, Jagiya.”

“Now I try my best to live a normal life. And I owe a lot of that to Sammy. I still work PR for The Spark Blood Syndicate but honestly, that’s something I won’t easily be able to get out of. I got back into theatre which I love so much. I was thrilled just to be back on stage but then I met you. I was astonished you even talked to me. When I flirted with you I thought I was making a complete ass of myself. But Zen, you treat me like a real person. You don’t baby me like Sam. You don’t act like the tiniest thing will break me. You make me smile, laugh, feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. My chest is warm whenever I’m with you and even when we’re apart I can’t get you out of my head. Riding with you on the back of your bike feels like the most natural thing in the world. I love the rush, the warmth of your back, and how I can feel my heart beat better when my chest is pressed against you. I am so glad you skipped rehearsal and brought me here. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be in this moment right now”

A pair of soft lips forcefully crashed against hers. The jacket slipped off of her shoulders but her body temperature didn’t change. There was a fire inside of her. She climbed onto the musical actors lap and returned his kiss. The tears that had pooled in her eyes had now overflowed and were streaming down her cheeks. They pulled away from their kiss and Zen held her face in his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs from her cheeks.

“Jagiya, I want to be with you. From the day you showed up at the theatre I had never known someone who had flirted with me so genuinely. Who wanted to get to know me because they were interested in me as a person, not just because of my extremely good looks or my acting career. My head is filled with thoughts of you and my heart overflows with good feelings whenever we’re together. I want you to be able to have the life you want. The life you deserve. I promise I’ll do whatever I can in order for you to be happy. And if you want, I hope that you’ll be happy…with me.”

She kissed his lips softly and lingered as long as she could until gently breaking away. She settled into his lap and laid her head against his chest. He laid his jacket over her like a blanket and wrapped his arms around her. She dozed off shortly after. Exhausted from the tears and the overwhelming amount of happiness she felt. Zen had watched her rising and falling and listening to her soft breathing. He kissed her forehead and gently shook her awake.

“Come on, Little Pixie. I should get you home.”

“THANK YOU THANK YOU! MY NAME IS YOOSUNG AND I’LL BE HERE…SAM HOW LONG AM I GOING TO BE HERE?”

“UUUUUHHHHH at least another hour or two?”

“AND I’LL BE HERE FOR ANOTHER HOUR OR TWO! YOU HAVE BEEN A WONDERFUL AUDIENCE AND I DO TAKE REQUESTS!”

The highly intoxicated blonde staggered off the small stage dropping the microphone on the floor and making his way to the equally intoxicated friend at a corner booth. 

“Yoosuuuuunnnggg. You have the voice of an ANGEL! You should cover for me at the club sometime.!”

The two were giggling like school girls but as the main room of the speakeasy started to get more and more empty they became very alert of what time it was. 

Samantha could handle her liquor but it had been awhile since she had gotten this drunk. She didn’t get emotional, sick, or angry. She. Got. SLEEPY. 

“Yoosung…we…should probably…call…”

“I’M ON IT!” Yoosung on the other hand wide awake, but also, extremely emotional.

“SAAAAAMMMMM SEVEN ISN’T ANSWERING T_T!!” The boy was whining and it was ear piercing.

“Just keep trying or try someone else. I‘ll make a call.” Sam took her phone out of her bra where she had stashed it and slowly dialed. 

Ringing ringing ringing…”Are you kidding me?”

“Vaannnddyyyyyyyyyy, what’s shaken?”

“Samantha…are you shit faced?”

“whhaaaatttt? Naaahhh I’m just hanging out with Yoosung! We are putting on a concert. They offered us 10 MILLION. How could we refuse?! But uh…I don’t think I can drive us home. We rocked waaayy too hard.”

“Unbelievable. You’re at the speakeasy aren’t you? Keep your ass there. I’ll be there…whenever I get there.”

“Van Man wait!! I brought Lily with me.”

“Fine, I’ll take a cab there and drive Lily back. Idiot.”

Sam hung up the phone and sunk into the booth. In the background she heard Yoosung on the phone, yelling and sobbing at someone. Almost asleep she made out a few words of what he was saying.

“Juummmiiiinnnnn. No one will answer me. Jumin I don’t want to walk home it’s scary!! Samantha’s hurt, she can’t protect me!”

Sam looked at her bandaged hand, oh right. She slowly finished dozing off. “Jumin?” The name slipped from her lips and she was out cold.

30 minutes had passed. Yoosung was being walked out, still sobbing but he had exhausted himself to the point that he was barely awake. Drifting in and out of consciousness herself, Samantha felt her body being lifted into the air. Whoever lifted her did it effortlessly. An arm under her legs and one behind her back. A bridal carry. Vanderwood? No. he wouldn’t be that gentle. He would have thrown her over his shoulder, mumbling how much of a pain in the ass she was. Her eyes still closed she clutched onto the persons broad chest, tilting her face in towards their body, She inhaled softly. That scent. It was familiar and comforting. Enough to sober her up, if only for a second.

“Jumin?”

“You’d be correct.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What exactly for?”

“For…”

Well for making an ass out of herself of course but there was so much more. For getting him involved with her, for complicating their feelings and their emotions. For lying to him, for continuing to lie to him. For constantly acting on her feelings towards him and never following through. It was never clear to her before but it took her being drunk off her ass to realize that she wanted to be with him.

Lost in her thoughts she didn’t answer him. She drifted back to sleep.

The Raven haired Prince of Business watched Driver Kim buckle Yoosung into the back of Jumin’s town car. Vanderwood was in the driver’s seat of the lavender Porsha. He carefully lowered Samantha’s body into the passenger seat, making sure her legs were clear of the door. He looked at her feet. Those shoes could not be comfortable. Not sensible footwear at all. But he had to admit, they looked good. He slipped the stilettos off of her feet and laid them in her lap. Pulling the seatbelt across her body and clicking it firmly. Jumin ran his hand through her hair and caressed her cheek. Samantha opened her eyes and smiled softly, reaching out and touching Jumins cheek in the same manner he was touching hers.

Softly and barely above a whisper she looked at him in the eyes and muttered “Mistah…Trust Fund…Kid…” her hand fell and she was back to sleep.

Jumin Han kissed her forehead  and ran his thumb across her bottom lip. He closed the passenger door and thanked Vanderwood for driving her home. He smiled as he watched the car make it’s way down the street. With his hands in his pockets he made his way to the backseat of the town car.

“Jumin *sob* I don’t know what I would do without you!!!”

“Yoosung,” He patted the young blonde on the shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Press Pause

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Season 13 Spoilers, angst, wee bit of fluffy fluff, smoking?

A/N: I put a lot of effort into this, I don’t even know. Quite proud of it, hope you like it. I’d love your honest and genuine opinion on it (Good or bad, any justified and kindly phrased opinion is welcome!).

JOIN MY TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Shit had hit the fan. So fast, so hard. Suddenly, Satan’s spawn was alive and in its late teens instead of being a 5-pound bundle of happiness with chubby cheeks and diapers. Everything was just… out of hand. Your best friend was gone, your boyfriend’s mother was stuck in an alternative universe with Lucifer himself, the most distrustful, yet most helpful person you had ever known had killed himself and suddenly you were back in 2007. Just you, the boys, and a huge problem you had no idea had to deal with, with no gaps to grasp or cracks to claw.

Your life had been torn to shreds in just one night.

Fuck, and you weren’t even taking the worst of it.

Jack had lost his mother before knowing what the word mother even means, had been brought to this world without a blueprint, only with an immense weight in his hands that he had no idea how to handle. Powers that no one could ever teach him how to control because no one had ever had them before. But also, he was given a choice. One of grave importance that would determine the world's fate.

Dean had just lost his best friend, his mother, his game plan. And after losing everything, he had also lost his faith and gone rogue, desperate to have a purpose. Whether that was a reasonable one or not. Currently, his target was to figure out how in hell’s name he could kill this monster, in his eyes, that was apparently a threat to humanity. Of course forgetting that that’s what they called his younger brother once too.

And then the younger Winchester came in the picture. Sam. Sam was left in the bottom, losing everything but his responsibilities, now,  unintentionally, becoming the father figure of a boy he had not asked for, left trying to pick his older brother’s pieces, left trying to pick up his own pieces. And yet somehow he still kept his optimism and absolute, pure, brightly burning hope somewhat intact.

After all that, you could not say a word. Your weight and problems were nothing in comparison.

You sat cross-legged on the top of the hill, watching the clouds come and go, the sun move and the chilly breeze skate down your skin. Your old packet of cigarettes lay limply in the gap between your legs, fingers toying with the silver Zippo your father had once gifted you. It was by no means a habit of yours –smoking-, but when the times got rough, when the world started falling apart, it was your coping mechanism.

Smoke puffed from your lips and danced in the fading orange sunlight like a skillful dancer, a well-practiced choreograph. Your eyes followed it as it disappeared in the mist of fall that would surely bring you a cold if you didn’t wear a hoodie soon.

“You know, that’s not good for you” his voice was light with heavy, half-hearted teasing and your heart broke just listening to him trying. You didn’t move when he spoke, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, only patted the patch of grass to your right lightly. You heard him shuffle about before heavy fabric fell on your shoulders and his scent attacked you faster than the nicotine numbed your nerves, seeing as they yet again jumped and fluttered at his presence. Just like every other time. Just like the first time.

You rested under the heaviness as Sam’s wide and mile-long form dumped itself on the ground beside you. You realized he had given you his orange jacket, the one that was enforced with dark brown leather inside. The one that smelt of burnt chances, disappointment, loss and tear-jerking goodbyes. The one he had been wearing the day he said I’m sorry, thank you and goodbye to the people he loved-no, loves. Even if he didn’t believe they’d be gone forever. Even if he hoped he could say I’m sorry and thank you in front of them again, at least one more time. Even though he knew better.

You offered him the pack without looking at him, eyes still locked with the scenery in front of you. He looked at you, at your hand, at you again and after a second of hesitation and a short internal debate, he slipped his long fingers in the packet and pulled out a cigarette. You didn’t offer a lighter, knowing he probably won’t light it anyways.

The stress reliever dangled from your lips as you slipped your arms through the long sleeves that went well past your fingers and instantly created a barrier that shielded you from the cold bite of the breeze. You leaned your head against his shoulder and he kissed your hairline, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling the cigarette up to his mouth. You didn’t react outwardly, even though the action surprised you. Instead, you offered him the Zippo. He leaned towards the fire, flashbacks of the past three days coming back in front of his irises, and lit it up with clenching eyelids, puffing out some smoke.

“We’ve been fucked over again, haven’t we.” You stated, instead of asking. Normally he would huff out a smile but he didn’t react. Not this time. Instead, he nodded with a sad hum and flexed his fingers around yours.

“Yes. Yes, we have.”

The reality of the statement hung heavily in the air like dead weight.

Comforting silence fell over the both of you for what could possibly be hours. You watched the sun set and the wind pick up as leaves fell all around you.

Suddenly the breeze simply stopped. Just froze, leaves pausing their fall mid-air. The grass stopped moving and stayed in a curved line that had been following the wind, the sun didn’t set, the clouds just stood still. The smoke you had just let out of your lungs froze in front of your face.

It was like someone pressed pause to the world.

“Sam.” He squeezed your hand in acknowledgment and you turned to him. His eyes were frantically moving, scanning his environment and attempting to understand what was happening. “Are you seeing this?”

“What the hell,” he muttered his response almost inaudibly. He exhaled lightly, eyebrows knitting up on his forehead. You gulped, instantly thinking of the worst possible explanations and consequences. In sync, Sam’s eyebrows and yours shot up in realization.

“Jack” you stated simply and your boyfriend nodded, lips pursing in a tight line briefly as he swallowed dryly.

“Fuck”

This seemed really, really bad for the first few seconds, until you slackened your shoulders and dropped your cigarette.

“Sammy?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips. He tilted his head in confusion like a puppy at your sudden mood swing. Your eyes traveled through every single thing around you and stood, the corners of your mouth curving up in wonder. Sam followed your movement, still confused at why you were being so odd all of a sudden. You stepped closer to him and placed your hands on his chest lightly. His huge paws instinctively went to your waist.

“Look,” You breathed out a small laugh. The youngest Winchester, still clueless as to your sudden joy, followed your eyes. His face relaxed and his expression absolutely slackened. His cigarette hung immobile in his mouth. A small smile graced his face.

“It’s…” his eyes didn’t stop moving for one second, hands fitting more comfortably against your body. “It’s beautiful”

And it was. It was so fucking beautiful.

It felt like a three-dimensional picture. Everything was frozen mid-movement. Leaves were hovering, the trees were slightly bent, the surreally colored clouds stood above the two of you like cotton candy. It gave you time to truly observe the colors of the sunset. It gave you a moment to breathe easier, a moment of true peace. A moment where the world didn’t necessarily need you. A moment where nothing bad was happening anywhere at all.

You looked up at Sam. His eyes skimmed every surface, relishing the calmness and peace of a still moment. The cigarette was still hanging limply from his mouth. You reached for it, gently prying it from his lips and throwing it under your boot, putting it out and making a mental note to pick it back up when you leave.

Sam’s eyes fell on you at the action. You smiled softly, placing one of your hands against his cheek tenderly. He leaned into it, eyes closing for a second. When they opened, you offered a small smile and leaned up to kiss him gently. Your lips moved at a snail’s pace finding no reason to rush this, extending the moment as long as humanly possible. He tasted of cigarette smoke and you supposed you did too but you didn’t mind. One of Sam’s hands moved and was lightly placed against your cheek while his other pressed you closer to him by your lower back.

Suddenly, like a slap in the face, the breeze started back up again. The hovering leaves fell slowly and the sun began, once again, setting.

You gasped, not expecting it, and instantly Sam’s hands held you a little tighter. And then you started giggling, unsure of why. You grinned against his lips, small giggles falling out of your mouth and he smiled too because he loved seeing you happy.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in exaggerated motions and nuzzled your nose with his, the unexplainable feeling of happiness surging through you. Sam chased your lips and you pulled back a little, teasing him. You repeated the same dance for a couple long seconds until he growled and held your head still with his hand, caging your bottom lip between both of his with fervor.

When both of you pulled back, pleasantly gasping for breath, you moved your arms from around his neck to his waist and hugged him tightly, burying your nose in his jacket. He moved his arms to hug you appropriately, fitting his chin over your head comfortably. Your smile dropped as you exhaled in his clothes, the harsh reality coming to slap you in the face.

“We should go back” the mere idea of the action filled you with dread. Sam hummed, reluctantly pulling back and entangling his fingers with yours. Kissing your forehead, he squared his shoulders and stored this memory in a safe vault in his mind as you bent to pick up the blunt you had thrown down. He shook his head, squared his shoulders and exhaled, feeling his responsibilities crashing on him again, knowing your moment was over, knowing the world needed the both of you, once again.

Forevers <3:

@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @deanssweetheart23 @easelweasel @nostalgic-uncertainty @twentyoneredsocks @dancerwithapen @mogaruke @superseejay721517 @blackcherrywhiskey @super-nerd-atural @andi-winchester

[unsettlingshortstories]

A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Flannery O'Connor (1953)

THE GRANDMOTHER didn't want to go to Florida. She wanted to visit some of her connections in east Tennessee and she was seizing at every chance to change Bailey's mind. Bailey was the son she lived with, her only boy. He was sitting on the edge of his chair at the table, bent over the orange sports section of the Journal. "Now look here, Bailey," she said, "see here, read this," and she stood with one hand on her thin hip and the other rattling the newspaper at his bald head. "Here this fellow that calls himself The Misfit is aloose from the Federal Pen and headed toward Florida and you read here what it says he did to these people. Just you read it. I wouldn't take my children in any direction with a criminal like that aloose in it. I couldn't answer to my conscience if I did."

Bailey didn't look up from his reading so she wheeled around then and faced the children's mother, a young woman in slacks, whose face was as broad and innocent as a cabbage and was tied around with a green head-kerchief that had two points on the top like rabbit's ears. She was sitting on the sofa, feeding the baby his apricots out of a jar. "The children have been to Florida before," the old lady said. "You all ought to take them somewhere else for a change so they would see different parts of the world and be broad. They never have been to east Tennessee."

The children's mother didn't seem to hear her but the eight-year-old boy, John Wesley, a stocky child with glasses, said, "If you don't want to go to Florida, why dontcha stay at home?" He and the little girl, June Star, were reading the funny papers on the floor.

"She wouldn't stay at home to be queen for a day," June Star said without raising her yellow head.

"Yes and what would you do if this fellow, The Misfit, caught you?" the grandmother asked.

"I'd smack his face," John Wesley said.

"She wouldn't stay at home for a million bucks," June Star said. "Afraid she'd miss something. She has to go everywhere we go."

"All right, Miss," the grandmother said. "Just remember that the next time you want me to curl your hair."

June Star said her hair was naturally curly.

The next morning the grandmother was the first one in the car, ready to go. She had her big black valise that looked like the head of a hippopotamus in one corner, and underneath it she was hiding a basket with Pitty Sing, the cat, in it. She didn't intend for the cat to be left alone in the house for three days because he would miss her too much and she was afraid he might brush against one of the gas burners and accidentally asphyxiate himself. Her son, Bailey, didn't like to arrive at a motel with a cat.

She sat in the middle of the back seat with John Wesley and June Star on either side of her. Bailey and the children's mother and the baby sat in front and they left Atlanta at eight forty-five with the mileage on the car at 55890. The grandmother wrote this down because she thought it would be interesting to say how many miles they had been when they got back. It took them twenty minutes to reach the outskirts of the city.

The old lady settled herself comfortably, removing her white cotton gloves and putting them up with her purse on the shelf in front of the back window. The children's mother still had on slacks and still had her head tied up in a green kerchief, but the grandmother had on a navy blue straw sailor hat with a bunch of white violets on the brim and a navy blue dress with a small white dot in the print. Her collars and cuffs were white organdy trimmed with lace and at her neckline she had pinned a purple spray of cloth violets containing a sachet. In case of an accident, anyone seeing her dead on the highway would know at once that she was a lady.

She said she thought it was going to be a good day for driving, neither too hot nor too cold, and she cautioned Bailey that the speed limit was fifty-five miles an hour and that the patrolmen hid themselves behind billboards and small clumps of trees and sped out after you before you had a chance to slow down. She pointed out interesting details of the scenery: Stone Mountain; the blue granite that in some places came up to both sides of the highway; the brilliant red clay banks slightly streaked with purple; and the various crops that made rows of green lace-work on the ground. The trees were full of silver-white sunlight and the meanest of them sparkled. The children were reading comic magazines and their mother had gone back to sleep.

"Let's go through Georgia fast so we won't have to look at it much," John Wesley said.

"If I were a little boy," said the grandmother, "I wouldn't talk about my native state that way. Tennessee has the mountains and Georgia has the hills."

"Tennessee is just a hillbilly dumping ground," John Wesley said, "and Georgia is a lousy state too."

"You said it," June Star said.

"In my time," said the grandmother, folding her thin veined fingers, "children were more respectful of their native states and their parents and everything else. People did right then. Oh look at the cute little pickaninny!" she said and pointed to a Negro child standing in the door of a shack. "Wouldn't that make a picture, now?" she asked and they all turned and looked at the little Negro out of the back window. He waved.

"He didn't have any britches on," June Star said.

"He probably didn't have any," the grandmother explained. "Little niggers in the country don't have things like we do. If I could paint, I'd paint that picture," she said.

The children exchanged comic books.

The grandmother offered to hold the baby and the children's mother passed him over the front seat to her. She set him on her knee and bounced him and told him about the things they were passing. She rolled her eyes and screwed up her mouth and stuck her leathery thin face into his smooth bland one. Occasionally he gave her a faraway smile. They passed a large cotton field with five or six graves fenced in the middle of it, like a small island. "Look at the graveyard!" the grandmother said, pointing it out. "That was the old family burying ground. That belonged to the plantation."

"Where's the plantation?" John Wesley asked.

"Gone With the Wind," said the grandmother. "Ha. Ha."

When the children finished all the comic books they had brought, they opened the lunch and ate it. The grandmother ate a peanut butter sandwich and an olive and would not let the children throw the box and the paper napkins out the window. When there was nothing else to do they played a game by choosing a cloud and making the other two guess what shape it suggested. John Wesley took one the shape of a cow and June Star guessed a cow and John Wesley said, no, an automobile, and June Star said he didn't play fair, and they began to slap each other over the grandmother.

The grandmother said she would tell them a story if they would keep quiet. When she told a story, she rolled her eyes and waved her head and was very dramatic. She said once when she was a maiden lady she had been courted by a Mr. Edgar Atkins Teagarden from Jasper, Georgia. She said he was a very good-looking man and a gentleman and that he brought her a watermelon every Saturday afternoon with his initials cut in it, E. A. T. Well, one Saturday, she said, Mr. Teagarden brought the watermelon and there was nobody at home and he left it on the front porch and returned in his buggy to Jasper, but she never got the watermelon, she said, because a nigger boy ate it when he saw the initials, E. A. T.! This story tickled John Wesley's funny bone and he giggled and giggled but June Star didn't think it was any good. She said she wouldn't marry a man that just brought her a watermelon on Saturday. The grandmother said she would have done well to marry Mr. Teagarden because he was a gentleman and had bought Coca-Cola stock when it first came out and that he had died only a few years ago, a very wealthy man.

They stopped at The Tower for barbecued sandwiches. The Tower was a part stucco and part wood filling station and dance hall set in a clearing outside of Timothy. A fat man named Red Sammy Butts ran it and there were signs stuck here and there on the building and for miles up and down the highway saying, TRY RED SAMMY'S FAMOUS BARBECUE. NONE LIKE FAMOUS RED SAMMY'S! RED SAM! THE FAT BOY WITH THE HAPPY LAUGH. A VETERAN! RED SAMMY'S YOUR MAN!

Red Sammy was lying on the bare ground outside The Tower with his head under a truck while a gray monkey about a foot high, chained to a small chinaberry tree, chattered nearby. The monkey sprang back into the tree and got on the highest limb as soon as he saw the children jump out of the car and run toward him.

Inside, The Tower was a long dark room with a counter at one end and tables at the other and dancing space in the middle. They all sat down at a board table next to the nickelodeon and Red Sam's wife, a tall burnt-brown woman with hair and eyes lighter than her skin, came and took their order. The children's mother put a dime in the machine and played "The Tennessee Waltz," and the grandmother said that tune always made her want to dance. She asked Bailey if he would like to dance but he only glared at her. He didn't have a naturally sunny disposition like she did and trips made him nervous. The grandmother's brown eyes were very bright. She swayed her head from side to side and pretended she was dancing in her chair. June Star said play something she could tap to so the children's mother put in another dime and played a fast number and June Star stepped out onto the dance floor and did her tap routine.

"Ain't she cute?" Red Sam's wife said, leaning over the counter. "Would you like to come be my little girl?"

"No I certainly wouldn't," June Star said. "I wouldn't live in a broken-down place like this for a minion bucks!" and she ran back to the table.

"Ain't she cute?" the woman repeated, stretching her mouth politely.

"Arn't you ashamed?" hissed the grandmother.

Red Sam came in and told his wife to quit lounging on the counter and hurry up with these people's order. His khaki trousers reached just to his hip bones and his stomach hung over them like a sack of meal swaying under his shirt. He came over and sat down at a table nearby and let out a combination sigh and yodel. "You can't win," he said. "You can't win," and he wiped his sweating red face off with a gray handkerchief. "These days you don't know who to trust," he said. "Ain't that the truth?"

"People are certainly not nice like they used to be," said the grandmother.

"Two fellers come in here last week," Red Sammy said, "driving a Chrysler. It was a old beat-up car but it was a good one and these boys looked all right to me. Said they worked at the mill and you know I let them fellers charge the gas they bought? Now why did I do that?"

"Because you're a good man!" the grandmother said at once.

"Yes'm, I suppose so," Red Sam said as if he were struck with this answer.

His wife brought the orders, carrying the five plates all at once without a tray, two in each hand and one balanced on her arm. "It isn't a soul in this green world of God's that you can trust," she said. "And I don't count nobody out of that, not nobody," she repeated, looking at Red Sammy.

"Did you read about that criminal, The Misfit, that's escaped?" asked the grandmother.

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he didn't attact this place right here," said the woman. "If he hears about it being here,I wouldn't be none surprised to see him. If he hears it's two cent in the cash register, I wouldn't be a tall surprised if he . . ."

"That'll do," Red Sam said. "Go bring these people their Co'-Colas," and the woman went off to get the rest of the order.

"A good man is hard to find," Red Sammy said. "Every- thing is getting terrible. I remember the day you could go off and leave your screen door unlatched. Not no more."

He and the grandmother discussed better times. The old lady said that in her opinion Europe was entirely to blame for the way things were now. She said the way Europe acted you would think we were made of money and Red Sam said it was no use talking about it, she was exactly right. The children ran outside into the white sunlight and looked at the monkey in the lacy chinaberry tree. He was busy catching fleas on himself and biting each one carefully between his teeth as if it were a delicacy.

They drove off again into the hot afternoon. The grand- mother took cat naps and woke up every few minutes with her own snoring. Outside of Toombsboro she woke up and recalled an old plantation that she had visited in this neighborhood once when she was a young lady. She said the house had six white columns across the front and that there was an avenue of oaks leading up to it and two little wooden trellis arbors on either side in front where you sat down with your suitor after a stroll in the garden. She recalled exactly which road to turn off to get to it. She knew that Bailey would not be willing to lose any time looking at an old house, but the more she talked about it, the more she wanted to see it once again and find out if the little twin arbors were still standing. "There was a secret panel in this house," she said craftily, not telling the truth but wishing that she were, "and the story went that all the family silver was hidden in it when Sherman came through but it was never found . . ."

"Hey!" John Wesley said. "Let's go see it! We'll find it! We'll poke all the woodwork and find it! Who lives there? Where do you turn off at? Hey Pop, can't we turn off there?"

"We never have seen a house with a secret panel!" June Star shrieked. "Let's go to the house with the secret panel! Hey Pop, can't we go see the house with the secret panel!"

"It's not far from here, I know," the grandmother said. "It wouldn't take over twenty minutes."

Bailey was looking straight ahead. His jaw was as rigid as a horseshoe. "No," he said.

The children began to yell and scream that they wanted to see the house with the secret panel. John Wesley kicked the back of the front seat and June Star hung over her mother's shoulder and whined desperately into her ear that they never had any fun even on their vacation, that they could never do what THEY wanted to do. The baby began to scream and John Wesley kicked the back of the seat so hard that his father could feel the blows in his kidney.

"All right!" he shouted and drew the car to a stop at the side of the road. "Will you all shut up? Will you all just shut up for one second? If you don't shut up, we won't go anywhere.

"It would be very educational for them," the grandmother murmured.

"All right," Bailey said, "but get this: this is the only time we're going to stop for anything like this. This is the one and only time."

"The dirt road that you have to turn down is about a mile back," the grandmother directed. "I marked it when we passed."

"A dirt road," Bailey groaned.

After they had turned around and were headed toward the dirt road, the grandmother recalled other points about the house, the beautiful glass over the front doorway and the candle-lamp in the hall. John Wesley said that the secret panel was probably in the fireplace.

"You can't go inside this house," Bailey said. "You don't know who lives there."

"While you all talk to the people in front, I'll run around behind and get in a window," John Wesley suggested.

"We'll all stay in the car," his mother said. They turned onto the dirt road and the car raced roughly along in a swirl of pink dust. The grandmother recalled the times when there were no paved roads and thirty miles was a day's journey. The dirt road was hilly and there were sudden washes in it and sharp curves on dangerous embankments. All at once they would be on a hill, looking down over the blue tops of trees for miles around, then the next minute, they would be in a red depression with the dust-coated trees looking down on them.

"This place had better turn up in a minute," Bailey said, "or I'm going to turn around."

The road looked as if no one had traveled on it in months.

"It's not much farther," the grandmother said and just as she said it, a horrible thought came to her. The thought was so embarrassing that she turned red in the face and her eyes dilated and her feet jumped up, upsetting her valise in the corner. The instant the valise moved, the newspaper top she had over the basket under it rose with a snarl and Pitty Sing, the cat, sprang onto Bailey's shoulder.

The children were thrown to the floor and their mother, clutching the baby, was thrown out the door onto the ground; the old lady was thrown into the front seat. The car turned over once and landed right-side-up in a gulch off the side of the road. Bailey remained in the driver's seat with the cat-gray-striped with a broad white face and an orange nose-clinging to his neck like a caterpillar.

As soon as the children saw they could move their arms and legs, they scrambled out of the car, shouting, "We've had an ACCIDENT!" The grandmother was curled up under the dashboard, hoping she was injured so that Bailey's wrath would not come down on her all at once. The horrible thought she had had before the accident was that the house she had remembered so vividly was not in Georgia but in Tennessee.

Bailey removed the cat from his neck with both hands and flung it out the window against the side of a pine tree. Then he got out of the car and started looking for the children's mother. She was sitting against the side of the red gutted ditch, holding the screaming baby, but she only had a cut down her face and a broken shoulder. "We've had an ACCIDENT!" the children screamed in a frenzy of delight.

"But nobody's killed," June Star said with disappointment as the grandmother limped out of the car, her hat still pinned to her head but the broken front brim standing up at a jaunty angle and the violet spray hanging off the side. They all sat down in the ditch, except the children, to recover from the shock. They were all shaking.

"Maybe a car will come along," said the children's mother hoarsely.

"I believe I have injured an organ," said the grandmother, pressing her side, but no one answered her. Bailey's teeth were clattering. He had on a yellow sport shirt with bright blue parrots designed in it and his face was as yellow as the l shirt. The grandmother decided that she would not mention that the house was in Tennessee.

The road was about ten feet above and they could see only the tops of the trees on the other side of it. Behind the ditch they were sitting in there were more woods, tall and dark and deep. In a few minutes they saw a car some distance away on top of a hill, coming slowly as if the occupants were watching them. The grandmother stood up and waved both arms dramatically to attract their attention. The car continued to come on slowly, disappeared around a bend and appeared again, moving even slower, on top of the hill they had gone over. It was a big black battered hearse-like automobile. There were three men in it.

It came to a stop just over them and for some minutes, the driver looked down with a steady expressionless gaze to where they were sitting, and didn't speak. Then he turned his head and muttered something to the other two and they got out. One was a fat boy in black trousers and a red sweat shirt with a silver stallion embossed on the front of it. He moved around on the right side of them and stood staring, his mouth partly open in a kind of loose grin. The other had on khaki pants and a blue striped coat and a gray hat pulled down very low, hiding most of his face. He came around slowly on the left side. Neither spoke.

The driver got out of the car and stood by the side of it, looking down at them. He was an older man than the other two. His hair was just beginning to gray and he wore silver- rimmed spectacles that gave him a scholarly look. He had a long creased face and didn't have on any shirt or undershirt. He had on blue jeans that were too tight for him and was holding a black hat and a gun. The two boys also had guns.

"We've had an ACCIDENT!" the children screamed.

The grandmother had the peculiar feeling that the bespectacled man was someone she knew. His face was as familiar to her as if she had known him au her life but she could not recall who he was. He moved away from the car and began to come down the embankment, placing his feet carefully so that he wouldn't slip. He had on tan and white shoes and no socks, and his ankles were red and thin. "Good afternoon," he said. "I see you all had you a little spill."

"We turned over twice!" said the grandmother.

"Once"," he corrected. "We seen it happen. Try their car and see will it run, Hiram," he said quietly to the boy with the gray hat.

"What you got that gun for?" John Wesley asked. "Whatcha gonna do with that gun?"

"Lady," the man said to the children's mother, "would you mind calling them children to sit down by you? Children make me nervous. I want all you all to sit down right together there where you're at."

"What are you telling US what to do for?" June Star asked.

Behind them the line of woods gaped like a dark open mouth. "Come here," said their mother.

"Look here now," Bailey began suddenly, "we're in a predicament! We're in . . ."

The grandmother shrieked. She scrambled to her feet and stood staring. "You're The Misfit!" she said. "I recognized you at once!"

"Yes'm," the man said, smiling slightly as if he were pleased in spite of himself to be known, "but it would have been better for all of you, lady, if you hadn't of reckernized me."

Bailey turned his head sharply and said something to his mother that shocked even the children. The old lady began to cry and The Misfit reddened.

"Lady," he said, "don't you get upset. Sometimes a man says things he don't mean. I don't reckon he meant to talk to you thataway."

"You wouldn't shoot a lady, would you?" the grandmother said and removed a clean handkerchief from her cuff and began to slap at her eyes with it.

The Misfit pointed the toe of his shoe into the ground and made a little hole and then covered it up again. "I would hate to have to," he said.

"Listen," the grandmother almost screamed, "I know you're a good man. You don't look a bit like you have com- mon blood. I know you must come from nice people!"

"Yes mam," he said, "finest people in the world." When he smiled he showed a row of strong white teeth. "God never made a finer woman than my mother and my daddy's heart was pure gold," he said. The boy with the red sweat shirt had come around behind them and was standing with his gun at his hip. The Misfit squatted down on the ground. "Watch them children, Bobby Lee," he said. "You know they make me nervous." He looked at the six of them huddled together in front of him and he seemed to be embarrassed as if he couldn't think of anything to say. "Ain't a cloud in the sky," he remarked, looking up at it. "Don't see no sun but don't see no cloud neither."

"Yes, it's a beautiful day," said the grandmother. "Listen," she said, "you shouldn't call yourself The Misfit because I know you're a good man at heart. I can just look at you and tell "

"Hush!" Bailey yelled. "Hush! Everybody shut up and let me handle this!" He was squatting in the position of a runner about to sprint forward but he didn't move.

"I ‘prechate that, lady," The Misfit said and drew a little circle in the ground with the butt of his gun.

"It'll take a half a hour to fix this here car," Hiram called, looking over the raised hood of it.

"Well, first you and Bobby Lee get him and that little boy to step over yonder with you," The Misfit said, pointing to Bailey and John Wesley. "The boys want to ast you some- thing," he said to Bailey. "Would you mind stepping back in them woods there with them?"

"Listen," Bailey began, "we're in a terrible predicament! Nobody realizes what this is," and his voice cracked. His eyes were as blue and intense as the parrots in his shirt and he remained perfectly still.

The grandmother reached up to adjust her hat brim as if she were going to the woods with him but it came off in her hand. She stood staring at it and after a second she let it fall on the ground. Hiram pulled Bailey up by the arm as if he were assisting an old man. John Wesley caught hold of his father's hand and Bobby Lee followed. They went off toward the woods and just as they reached the dark edge, Bailey turned and supporting himself against a gray naked pine trunk, he shouted, "I'll be back in a minute, Mamma, wait on me!"

"Come back this instant!" his mother shrilled but they all disappeared into the woods.

"Bailey Boy!" the grandmother called in a tragic voice but she found she was looking at The Misfit squatting on the ground in front of her. "I just know you're a good man," she said desperately. "You're not a bit common!"

"Nome, I ain't a good man," The Misfit said after a second as if he had considered her statement carefully, "but I ain't the worst in the world neither. My daddy said I was a different breed of dog from my brothers and sisters. 'You know,' Daddy said, 'it's some that can live their whole life out without asking about it and it's others has to know why it is, and this boy is one of the latters. He's going to be into every- thing!'" He put on his black hat and looked up suddenly and then away deep into the woods as if he were embarrassed again. "I'm sorry I don't have on a shirt before you ladies," he said, hunching his shoulders slightly. "We buried our clothes that we had on when we escaped and we're just making do until we can get better. We borrowed these from some folks we met," he explained.

"That's perfectly all right," the grandmother said. "Maybe Bailey has an extra shirt in his suitcase."

"I'll look and see terrectly," The Misfit said.

"Where are they taking him?" the children's mother screamed.

"Daddy was a card himself," The Misfit said. "You couldn't put anything over on him. He never got in trouble with the Authorities though. Just had the knack of handling them."

"You could be honest too if you'd only try," said the grandmother. "Think how wonderful it would be to settle down and live a comfortable life and not have to think about some- body chasing you all the time."

The Misfit kept scratching in the ground with the butt of his gun as if he were thinking about it. "Yes'm, somebody is always after you," he murmured.

The grandmother noticed how thin his shoulder blades were just behind-his hat because she was standing up looking down on him. "Do you ever pray?" she asked.

He shook his head. All she saw was the black hat wiggle between his shoulder blades. "Nome," he said.

There was a pistol shot from the woods, followed closely by another. Then silence. The old lady's head jerked around. She could hear the wind move through the tree tops like a long satisfied insuck of breath. "Bailey Boy!" she called.

"I was a gospel singer for a while," The Misfit said. "I been most everything. Been in the arm service, both land and sea, at home and abroad, been twict married, been an undertaker, been with the railroads, plowed Mother Earth, been in a tornado, seen a man burnt alive oncet," and he looked up at the children's mother and the little girl who were sitting close together, their faces white and their eyes glassy; "I even seen a woman flogged," he said.

"Pray, pray," the grandmother began, "pray, pray . . ."

"I never was a bad boy that I remember of," The Misfit said in an almost dreamy voice, "but somewheres along the line I done something wrong and got sent to the penitentiary. I was buried alive," and he looked up and held her attention to him by a steady stare.

"That's when you should have started to pray," she said "What did you do to get sent to the penitentiary that first time?"

"Turn to the right, it was a wall," The Misfit said, looking up again at the cloudless sky. "Turn to the left, it was a wall. Look up it was a ceiling, look down it was a floor. I forget what I done, lady. I set there and set there, trying to remember what it was I done and I ain't recalled it to this day. Oncet in a while, I would think it was coming to me, but it never come."

"Maybe they put you in by mistake," the old lady said vaguely.

"Nome," he said. "It wasn't no mistake. They had the papers on me."

"You must have stolen something," she said.

The Misfit sneered slightly. "Nobody had nothing I wanted," he said. "It was a head-doctor at the penitentiary said what I had done was kill my daddy but I known that for a lie. My daddy died in nineteen ought nineteen of the epidemic flu and I never had a thing to do with it. He was buried in the Mount Hopewell Baptist churchyard and you can go there and see for yourself."

"If you would pray," the old lady said, "Jesus would help you."

"That's right," The Misfit said.

"Well then, why don't you pray?" she asked trembling with delight suddenly.

"I don't want no hep," he said. "I'm doing all right by myself."

Bobby Lee and Hiram came ambling back from the woods. Bobby Lee was dragging a yellow shirt with bright blue parrots in it.

"Thow me that shirt, Bobby Lee," The Misfit said. The shirt came flying at him and landed on his shoulder and he put it on. The grandmother couldn't name what the shirt reminded her of. "No, lady," The Misfit said while he was buttoning it up, "I found out the crime don't matter. You can do one thing or you can do another, kill a man or take a tire off his car, because sooner or later you're going to forget what it was you done and just be punished for it."

The children's mother had begun to make heaving noises as if she couldn't get her breath. "Lady," he asked, "would you and that little girl like to step off yonder with Bobby Lee and Hiram and join your husband?"

"Yes, thank you," the mother said faintly. Her left arm dangled helplessly and she was holding the baby, who had gone to sleep, in the other. "Hep that lady up, Hiram," The Misfit said as she struggled to climb out of the ditch, "and Bobby Lee, you hold onto that little girl's hand."

"I don't want to hold hands with him," June Star said. "He reminds me of a pig."

The fat boy blushed and laughed and caught her by the arm and pulled her off into the woods after Hiram and her mother.

Alone with The Misfit, the grandmother found that she had lost her voice. There was not a cloud in the sky nor any sun. There was nothing around her but woods. She wanted to tell him that he must pray. She opened and closed her mouth several times before anything came out. Finally she found herself saying, "Jesus. Jesus," meaning, Jesus will help you, but the way she was saying it, it sounded as if she might be cursing.

"Yes'm," The Misfit said as if he agreed. "Jesus shown everything off balance. It was the same case with Him as with me except He hadn't committed any crime and they could prove I had committed one because they had the papers on me. Of course," he said, "they never shown me my papers. That's why I sign myself now. I said long ago, you get you a signature and sign everything you do and keep a copy of it. Then you'll know what you done and you can hold up the crime to the punishment and see do they match and in the end you'll have something to prove you ain't been treated right. I call myself The Misfit," he said, "because I can't make what all I done wrong fit what all I gone through in punishment."

There was a piercing scream from the woods, followed closely by a pistol report. "Does it seem right to you, lady, that one is punished a heap and another ain't punished at all?"

"Jesus!" the old lady cried. "You've got good blood! I know you wouldn't shoot a lady! I know you come from nice people! Pray! Jesus, you ought not to shoot a lady. I'll give you all the money I've got!"

"Lady," The Misfit said, looking beyond her far into the woods, "there never was a body that give the undertaker a tip."

There were two more pistol reports and the grandmother raised her head like a parched old turkey hen crying for water and called, "Bailey Boy, Bailey Boy!" as if her heart would break.

"Jesus was the only One that ever raised the dead," The Misfit continued, "and He shouldn't have done it. He shown everything off balance. If He did what He said, then it's nothing for you to do but thow away everything and follow Him, and if He didn't, then it's nothing for you to do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you can-by killing somebody or burning down his house or doing some other meanness to him. No pleasure but meanness," he said and his voice had become almost a snarl.

"Maybe He didn't raise the dead," the old lady mumbled, not knowing what she was saying and feeling so dizzy that she sank down in the ditch with her legs twisted under her.

"I wasn't there so I can't say He didn't," The Misfit said. "I wisht I had of been there," he said, hitting the ground with his fist. "It ain't right I wasn't there because if I had of been there I would of known. Listen lady," he said in a high voice, "if I had of been there I would of known and I wouldn't be like I am now." His voice seemed about to crack and the grandmother's head cleared for an instant. She saw the man's face twisted close to her own as if he were going to cry and she murmured, "Why you're one of my babies. You're one of my own children!" She reached out and touched him on the shoulder. The Misfit sprang back as if a snake had bitten him and shot her three times through the chest. Then he put his gun down on the ground and took off his glasses and began to clean them.

Hiram and Bobby Lee returned from the woods and stood over the ditch, looking down at the grandmother who half sat and half lay in a puddle of blood with her legs crossed under her like a child's and her face smiling up at the cloudless sky.

Without his glasses, The Misfit's eyes were red-rimmed and pale and defenseless-looking. "Take her off and thow her where you shown the others," he said, picking up the cat that was rubbing itself against his leg.

"She was a talker, wasn't she?" Bobby Lee said, sliding down the ditch with a yodel.

"She would of been a good woman," The Misfit said, "if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life."

"Some fun!" Bobby Lee said.

"Shut up, Bobby Lee" The Misfit said. "It's no real pleasure in life."

[writingfromkitchenator]

Silver and Red

Chapter 1

Blonde hair flying back, feet pounding heavy into the grass, she gasped for air, terror clinging to her as she ran.

She had to get away. She couldn't let them get her again.

She hit something, or someone, solid.

They had a gun.

She leapt back. "P-please...d-don't!"

"Hey, easy. Easy!" The man held the gun away from her, crouching down. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

She nods, then shakes her head. "We both will be if he catches up though."

"Who's after you?" He asked calmly.

"A demon." The words were out of he mouth fast. "I don't know his name, but-"

"It's okay Elouise, we'll deal with this."

Elouise blinks at the man as he stands and holds out his hand for her, which she takes, helping her up.

"Just stay behind me, okay?" He said.

Again, she nods. "How do you know my name?"

"Your picture was in the missing person's folder." He said. "Look, you can trust me, okay? My name is Sam."

"I'd say nice to meet you, but these aren't the best circumstances."

Sam laughs, glancing back at her. "No, I guess they're not."

They both wait in silence then, the noises of the night taking over. She didn't like this, she didn't like this at all.

A snap made her jump around, another man approaching.

Sam seemed unworried. "Anything?"

"Zip." The other replied. "I see you found her though."

"Well, she found me rather." Sam send then nodded to Elouise. "This is Dean."

She nods in greeting and he nods back.

"Are you-"

Elouise screams as Sam and Dean are both suddenly thrown to the side, leaving her to face the approaching demon alone.

The woman grins at her, her black eyes gleaming in the dark. "Come along sweet heart, we don't have time for games anymore."

Elouise backs off. "Just stay away from me."

"Sorry, you're a wanted woman. So let's just keep this civil."

The demon leapt and Elouise had no choice but to react, her hand finding her blade in seconds which she then buried into the demons stomach.

The demon woman shrieked, her insides frying as the angel blade did its work, before she fell to ground dead.

Elouise breath heavily as she heard Sam and Dean get up from behind her.

"What the-"

She turns, tears in her eyes, her grip tight on the blade. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to get anyone else involved in this." Turning on her heel, she ran, ignoring theirs calls to wait after her.

Several days passed and Elouise was seated in a restaurant, her hood up on her jacket so it covered her face. She clutched her last ten dollar note in her hand. She was starving, she had no choice.

Ordering a meal, she stuck in as soon as she got it, hoping that no one would look on her funny because she was eating so quickly.

"Better slow down honey, you might be sick." The waitress behind the bar said kindly.

Elouise flushed. "Sorry..." She said quietly. "It's...it's just been a while since I've eaten."

The waitresses gaze was kind and Elouise suddenly found a glass of juice in front of her. "On the house hun. You take your time now."

Elouise watched in stunned silence as the waitress let her be, and if her stomach hadn't rumbled, she probably would've watched longer.

The plate licked clean and the juice drained, Elouise stare a little blankly ahead of her. She had no idea what she was going to do. No money to her name, it would mean living on the streets and stealing what she could get, neither of which appealed to her.

Sighing, she left the money on the counter and left.

Every small noise made her jump, every startling movement set her on edge and had her pulling her hood lower down, making sure she was covered.

She didn't want to be recognised.

Night was soon settling in again and Elouise just stood on the shore, watching the sun set over the ocean.

As the last rays of light disappeared, Elouise starts to cry. It was silent at first, but soon became heart breaking sobs that had her curling up on the nearby bench, hugging her knees to her chest.

This shouldn't be how it is.

At some point, she must have fallen asleep, because it didn't feel like long until the morning was wakening her.

Elouise blinked drearily, her silver eyes taking in the morning sun. With a sigh, she sits, groaning against the complaint of her muscles from lying on something hard all night.

"Get used to it." She grunts to herself, rubbing her head.

Taking her time, she eventually gets up and starts walking again, staring more at her feet as she walked than anywhere else, mostly so that people couldn't see her face. Her hands were buried in her pockets and she could feel the point of her blade scraping against her wrist, which she ignored.

Her shoulder bumped into someone.

"Sorry." She mumbled.

"Elouise?"

She froze, spinning around only to see Sam standing there looking at her.

"No." She breathed and before Sam could react, she span on her heel and started to run.

"Elouise wait!" He called as he ran after her.

Elouise's heart pounded, she could hear Sam chasing after her, clearly faster, and as she spun around a corner, his hand clenched around her arm.

"Just wait." He said.

"Let me go!" She cried, trying to tug free of his grasp.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"No!"

Sam cried out and let go as if his hand was suddenly burnt, allowing Elouise to start running again, but not before Sam missed the flash of white light from her eyes. He watched after her helplessly, clutching his hand and letting her go.

Elouise eventually stopped, gasping for air as she lent down on her knees.

It didn't help she was crying.

She knew what Sam and Dean were, and she knew there was no way she could risk being caught by them. She had little doubt that they would kill her without hesitation.

And she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to fight that.

It was some time before she'd realised that she had sunken down into the grass, her eyes closing as near exhaustion set in. She should've known better, whenever she used her power, purposefully or accidentally, it left her drained.

The night was heavy when she awoke.

Confusion was all she felt as she sat up, not remembering where she had run from or too, just that she had run.

Now she was alone and the world around her didn't exactly look welcoming. She stood and hugged her arms to her body, suddenly feeling more scared than she had been so far.

Looking around, there were street lights in the distance, so, even hesitantly, began to walk.

The street was empty, increasing her fear and increasing her pace.

The chill down her spine came suddenly and she drew in a sharp breath, freezing.

"Going somewhere poppet?"

Elouise swallowed hard, turning slowly and facing the black eyed man on the street. "I...I don't want any trouble."

He grinned. "Of course. Then you'll be happy to just come with me then?"

She takes a step back as he moves closer. "No."

"Come on poppet, don't be like that, we're only trying to help."

She let the blade slip into her hand and holds it up in front of her. "I-I don't want to hurt you. Just leave me alone."

"Oh, you couldn't hurt me if you tried, so the only one getting hurt, is you." He laughs.

"Not a chance."

The voice made them both jump, but there was no chance to react as Sam's blade connected with the demon, killing it. A strong pair of arms then wrapped around Elouise as she turned to run.

"Take it easy." Dean grunts as she struggled.

"Let me go!" She screamed.

"We're not going to hurt you." He growls.

"I don't want to hurt you." Elouise gasped, fighting harder against Dean, trying to get away. "Please just let me go!"

But Sam was approaching now and before she could do anything else, something clicked around her wrist.

Elouise gasped and stopped almost instantly, the blade clattering to the ground. "What did you do?" She whispered.

"Stopped whatever chaotic power you have going through you." Dean gasped as he let her go. "It would've been a lot easier if you hust stopped and listened to us for a few minutes."

Sam looked worried. "Elouise, why would you think we would want to hurt you?"

She stands there numbly, staring at her feet. "You are hunters. It's what you do."

Sam and Dean share a look.

"We kill monsters. You hardly-"

"That's why your hand is bandaged Sam." She looks up at them. "Trust me. You are better off just killing me now."

Sam flexes his hand, which was wrapped in a clean white bandage. "It was an accident Elouise."

"And I'm prone to them. Trust me, it...it is easier to just kill me." Elouise let's out a shaky breath. "Why do you think the demons are hunting me?"

Again, the brothers share a look. "How do you know about all this?"

"Because I have to." She said quietly. "I was forced into it, and...I tried...I tried to be normal again, but that's when more people started dying."

Dean stepped closer to Sam. "What do we do about this Sammy?" He asked quietly.

Sam looked at her, her eyes downcast again. "I don't know. We can't just kill her."

"I wasn't suggesting it." Dean said quickly. "She's scared Sam. We can't just leave her own her own."

Sam nods. "We'll take her back to the motel for now, talk more there and try and figure out what's going on."

"Why do I have a feeling she knows?" Dean asked.

Elouise went quietly with them back to the motel, where they made sure she was comfortable in a chair.

Dean hands her a beer. "So, can you at least tell us how you ended up with an angel blade? Last I checked the only way to get one of those was to kill an angel."

Elouise stares at the beer and doesn't answer.

Sam sits with her. "We just want to help Elouise. You're clearly in trouble."

For a moment, her eyes welled up before she blinked it away. "You can't help me."

"Try us." Dean said, sitting on a bed with his own beer. "We've been to hell and back kid, dealt with things you couldn't even dream off. Tell us and then we can be the ones who decide whether we can help or not."

"I'm not a child." She said, looking up at Dean. "I may not look it, but I'm older than you both."

He held her gaze. "Right. Keep going."

Elouise sighed. "I grew up just thinking that I had a special talent, that...that my sister and I were just different, but we could help people with it. We both studied to be doctors, succeeded in being doctors, but...a year ago, we got a call from our father, asking us to come home because he wanted to explain something to us. That blade..." She licks her lips. "That blade was his."

"How-"

"Because he was an angel." Elouise looked at them as they suddenly both looked nervous. "And judging by your expressions you know the consequences of a half breed, be it angel or demon."

"So, your half angel?" Sam asked. "Why would he keep this from you?"

"For our protection, just as he told us when he had to, for our protection." She reaches over and takes the beer. "Not that it did them a lot of good."

"I take it-"

"Yes." She drinks. "I'm the only one left."

An odd silence fell over the room for a moment.

"We're sorry Elouise." Sam said softly. "We know it's not easy."

Elouise nods once. "And so I was forced into a life where I now had to kill people instead of save them."

"You know that they aren't really people? Demons are-"

"Inhabiting a vessel, just as angels do." She rests the beer against her head. "And I've had to kill both. Might as well be as good as murder."

They watched as she takes another drink, her silver eyes shutting.

Sam shuffled forward in his seat a little, leaning on the table. "You lived with your powers for years, why did it suddenly change so much?"

They almost thought that she wouldn't answer.

"I only ever used it to heal before, but...the change...the change I had to make to suit being on the run, of-of having to fight. I haven't been able to channel it as well as I used to. It has more control than I do if the situation calls for it."

"Hence why you burned my hand." Sam said. "Were even aware you did it?"

"No." She said softly. "I felt it shift but I didn't know what it did." She let that set in. "I told you, you are better off just-just killing me."

Sam and Dean stare at each other for a moment before Dean nods.

Leaning forward, Sam unlocks the cuffs around her wrists.

She looks at them shocked. "What are you doing?"

"Trusting you." Sam said. "Look Elouise, we are in the business of killing monsters, and from what we've seen, you aren't even close."

"I've killed people."

"Join the club." Dean said. "But you've also been killing demons and some arseholes of angels. It's no loss."

Elouise still didn't look impressed by this, sending Dean an indignant look before she sighs. "Well, what do you intend for me to do then?"

Dean shrugs. "If you don't want to be on your own, we could always use a hand. We're...we're not exactly living an easy life though."

She blinks. "I've just told you I don't like killing things, so you want me to become a hunter?"

"Not necessarily," Sam quickly said. "Even if you help us with research that would be advantageous to us. But, if you are being as hunted as well as we think you are, a little extra protection from us could go a long way."

"Plus you're a doctor." Dean said. "And honestly, I'm sick of having to stitch myself up."

Elouise's mouth twitched in a small smile. "It's not a pretty business is it?"

"Oh you have no idea."

Taglist

@sunshineistoofuckingbright | @everyjourneylove | @wholita | @darthcastiel | @thelazybamf | @gettinjoyful