#ivonne rainer

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we could be more | dean winchester

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

PROLOGUE

I was typing quickly on a computer, trying to breathe in and out as calmly as I could. The windows were shut, blinds drawn, door locked and rock salt places around the edges of the room. 

“Come on, locate them already.” I muttered as I scanned through piles and piles of CCTV cameras. “Please, please, please-“ The salt blew away, and door and windows started rattling, then violently shaking. I typed faster, then a location popped up on my screen. “Thank goodness.” I wrote it down, but then the doors blew through, and a woman stepped through, red eyes glowing wickedly. 

“You’d think that being a witch would make you more adept at protecting yourself from harm.” She smiled maliciously, and I stood up, my own eyes glowing blue as I picked up the piece of paper. “But oh well.” 

“Sorry I couldn’t take the full measures when I’ve got the devil on my scent.” I scoffed.

”Cute.” She sniped, then walked forward. “Speaking of the devil, he isn’t too pleased with you and what you’ve been doing. So he sent me to fix you.” 

“By taking away my powers?” I breathed, stepping back. My legs were shaking, my head was pounding, ears ringing- it was all too much. But my survival mattered more, if I’m being honest. 

“No.” She shrugged, then grabbed my wrist, and I felt a cutting, burning sensation there, along with pain. 

Extreme pain.

I let out a cry that felt silent to me as I wrenched my arm out of her hand, and when I looked down, I saw a rune there, glowing red and standing out even against burnt skin.

She chuckled, peering at her handiwork. ”Of course I’m going to take away your powers. Silly girl.” She then disappeared, leaving me to gape in horror at the rune. I picked up my bag and my gun, the ringing still in my ears, wrapped my scarf around me, put on my coat and hurried to my car, getting in and driving off. My arm still stung, and I felt empty, as if a big part of me had been ripped out, which it had been. But I had to leave, and find them. 

I pulled up at a …hospital(?)… God knows how many hours later, getting out and asking the receptionist for the right ward and room. I ran up the stairs, counting under my breath until I reached the right door, knocking hurriedly, startling the men inside. One was a man who seemed to be in his early twenties, with shaggy brown hair and dressed in a plaid shirt and green-ish jacket. The other was a much older man who looked like the other’s dad. On the hospital bed was an unconscious man with a very defined jawline and shorter brown hair. He looked damaged, to say the least. 

“Can I help you, ma’am?” The guy in his twenties asked, stepping forward. 

“I’m looking for Sam or Dean Winchester. Either of them.” I panted, holding onto the doorframe. 

“I’m Sam.” Sam told me, looking calmer than I’ll ever be. “Is everything ok? You look spooked.” 

I didn’t say anything; I just lifted up my sleeve, showing him the mark. His eyes widened, and so did his dad’s, who also came closer to take a look.

”Sweet Jesus.” The dad breathed.

”That’s a rune.” 

NEXT

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Choreographers Merce Cunningham, Erick Hawkins, Paul Taylor, Twyla Tharp, Martha Graham, Jose Limon, Ivonne Rainer and Don Redlich, on the terrace of Martha Graham's home in Manhattan, New York, 1968. Photography by Jack Mitchell

[Danza Libre]

* * * *

“Under the influence not I know of the hardest cider but of his own inner joy at life for a moment as it should be, as it was meant to be in his nature, Phineas recaptured that magic gift for existing primarily in space, one foot conceding briefly to gravity its rights before spinning him off again into the air. It was his wildest demonstration of himself, of himself in the kind of world he loved; it was his choreography of peace.”

― John Knowles, A Separate Peace

+

When I first began choreographing, I never thought of it as choreography but as expressing feelings. Though every piece is different, they are all trying to get at certain things that are difficult to put into words. In the work, everything belongs to everything else - the music, the set, the movement and whatever is said.

-Pina Bausch

[st8phani8]

[betaterra]

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we could be more | dean winchester | 4

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

CHILDREN SHOULDN’T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DRIVER’S LICENSE - OLIVIA RODRIGO

“Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid.” Dean groaned as he drove the car.

”Why?” Sam asked.

”Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave- there-there was no body left after the fire.” 

“She has a headstone.” 

“Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never even met. So you wanna, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on.” 

“It’s not about that.”

”Enlighten me then, Sam.” 

“It's not about a body, or, or, a casket. It's about her memory, okay?” 

“Mhmm.”

”And after Dad it ju-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 thing down.”

”That's a good idea, you should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you there tomorrow.”

”How about we ask what Beanie wants to do?” Dean turned slightly. “Whatcha wanna do?”

”Go to the graveyard.” I replied. “Believe it or not, my family’s tombstone is nearby. The night my family died was spent in Lawrence.” 

“Well, then, you can pay your respects there.” Sam agreed.

We reached the graveyard, and I instantly started searching for our family plot. As soon as I found it, I sat at my dad’s grave, staring at the inscription of his name. 

“Hey, dad.” I whispered. “It’s been 7 years since I last saw you, and if I’m being honest, it’s eating me alive cause I need you with me. I found your book and I saw your notes on Sam and Dean, so I found them and they’re protecting me from the dreamwalker cause the devil came after me, but only took away my powers. It feels like I’ve let you down.” My voice started breaking uncontrollably. “You told me to take care of my family, but there’s no one left to protect, so what am I here for?” I felt a tear drop onto my Panic!At the Disco t-shirt. “Dean and Sam have their own problems to deal with, b-but they insist that I don’t intrude. It’s… c-confusing.” I paused. “And there’s another thing. Everyone expects me t-to live up to either yours or mom’s name, but it’s so hard to do. I doubt I can-”

”Beanie!” I heard, so I left some flowers at the grave and went over to Dean. 

“What?” 

“Does this mean anything to you?” He pointed to the ground. There was a ring of dead grass surrounding a tombstone, along with a wreath of dead flowers. I wiped a tear from my eye, then nodded. 

“It’s an odd ring of dead grass around a grave, it’s usually a sign of a troubled spirit or unholy ground.” 

“You hear that, Sam?” 

“Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide.” Sam suggested, so I bent down and touched the soil, bringing it up to my face. 

“Nope.” I shook my head. “If pesticide was still here, soil wouldn’t be dry. Excesses of it make the soil wet for a few hours after.” 

“Okay, so what are you thinking?” 

“Unholy ground.” 

“Un-“ Sam stopped, looking dumbfounded. 

“What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground.” Dean explained. “Remember the-the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?” 

“Yeah, b-“

”Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the-the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough.” Dean grimaced at Sam’s nod. “Well, don’t get too excited, you might pull something.” 

“It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?”

“So?” 

“So… are you sure this is about a hunt and not anything else?” 

“What else would it be about?” 

“Boys.” I sighed, going and getting a newspaper from a nearby stand.

“You believe what you want, Sam, but -- I let you drag my butt out here, the least we could do is check this out.” 

“Yeah. Fine.” Sam grumbled. 

“Her dad works as a professor at the university here.” I informed, looking up. 

“Dr. Mason?” Dean knocked on the door in the university, and Dr Mason opened it. 

“Yes?” He replied. 

“I'm Sam. This is Dean, and this is Ivy.” Sam introduced. “We were friends of Angela's. We... we wanted to offer our condolences.” 

“Please, come in.” We entered, and while Dean went to the shelves, Sam and I sat down. 

“She was beautiful.” Sam smiled, looking at a photo. 

“She was.” Dr Mason nodded sadly. I got up, going to the door. 

“I’m going to get some fresh air.” I excused, then shut the door behind me. I looked around at the bustling students, and I gulped, remembering my brief time at college before I dropped out. 

“You look lost.” I turned to see a dude who seemed to be six foot tall, making me feel small since I was 5’ 8”. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that could probably blind me. He was dressed smartly, and glasses framed his eyes, giving him a geeky look. “Are you a student?” 

“God, no.” I chuckled. “I’m here visiting Dr Mason with my brothers. We were friends with Angela.” I held out my hand. “I’m Lily Carter.” 

“Nate, but the students call me Mr Coleman.” He shook my hand. “I’m sorry about Angela.” 

“So am I.” I smiled. “It’s hard, but I’m dealing.” 

“Your brothers are helping, huh?” 

“More than I think they are.” I nodded. “They’re going through things too, so they need my help as well.” 

“Sounds like a good thing.” He grinned, then looked like he was hesitant for something. “C-Can I get your number?” 

“Oh, sure.” I pulled out my phone and so did he, and I read out my number. When we were done, his cheeks were red, a goofy smile on his face. 

“Do you think we can-“ 

“Beanie?” Dean and Sam came out from the office, and found me. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” I asked. 

“Course I will.” He grinned. “It was great meeting you, Lily Carter.” 

“And you, Nate Coleman.” I replied, then walked off with the boys. 

“I never knew ‘a breath of fresh air’ meant ‘find a new man’.” Dean teased. 

“Dean, it wasn’t like that-“ 

“Don’t think that we didn’t see you staring at that dude like he was a cup of coffee.” Sam chuckled. “Just couldn’t resist him.” 

“I got his number, but-“ 

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about Will.” Dean snorted. 

“Yeah, Will.” Sam laughed. “Speaking of Will, have you two been in contact since we left?” 

“Nope.” I replied. “Just another relationship on the go.” 

“We’ve had our fair share.” They both nudged me. 

“Speaking of which, where are we staying for tonight?” Dean asked. 

“I’ve got a safe house here.” I offered. 

“How many safe houses do you have?” 

I held up a set of keys. 

“Damn.”

The moment we had gotten into the Impala, Dean had been blabbing on about how we ‘found something’. Sam was forever sceptical, and I was trying to find a quiet moment so I could text Nate. 

“I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet.” Dean repeated as we closed the house door. 

“Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing.” Sam groaned. 

“Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground.”

”There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father.” 

“Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?” 

“You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore.”

“So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?” 

“I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“This is about Mom’s grave.” 

“Oh, he just went there.” I whispered, breathing out. 

Dean scoffed. “That’s got nothing to do with it.” 

“You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad.” Sam persisted.

“I’m not taking this-“ They were interrupted by my keys jingling, and I put my leather jacket on, ignoring their faces as I fixed my crop top. 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked. 

“Thanks for realising that I’m still here.” I smiled falsely. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m heading to the bar, alone, to get a drink. You two have a copy of the keys if you want to do something similar.” I went out of the door, walking to the bar. 

I was busy drinking a whiskey at the bar, merely cause I was in the mood for something fancier than beer. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” The bartender asked, prepping a drink. 

“Yeah, I’m just getting away from my brothers. They might be wrestling at this point.” I replied with a scoff.

“I used to do that with my brothers. My mom said it should be professional.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I have something for you.” He gave me a Cosmopolitan, and I frowned. 

“I didn’t ask for this.” 

“But the gentleman across the bar did. Paid for it an’ all.” He pointed to… 

“Nate.” I half exhaled, half laughed as he walked up to me, sitting down on the bar stool beside me. 

“Lily.” Nate grinned. “I never thought I’d see you again, not after your… brothers… whisked you away.” 

“Why the emphasis?” I asked, sipping the Cosmo. 

“Because I never knew that Lily Carter could be the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.” 

I choked on my drink. “You know?” 

“A lot of hunters know who those two are.” He nodded. “So your name isn’t really Lily Carter, is it?” 

“Nope.” I chuckled. “Ivonne Rainer.” 

“Michael Rainer’s daughter?” 

“You bet.” I smirked, then took out his ID, which I’d nifted from his pocket. “And your name isn’t Nate Coleman, is it, Xavier?” 

“You got me.” He grinned. “I’m actually Xavier Jackson.” 

“I never thought I’d see a hunter work undercover as a school teacher.” 

“I joined the day after Angela’s death.” Xavier explained. “Something was up, cause I’d seen her grave. I’ve never seen a more obvious mark of-“ 

“-unholy ground.” We finished together, then started laughing. I drank my Cosmo to stop laughing, but then he seemed hesitant to say something. 

“What’s up?” I asked. 

“The first time I saw you with Sam and Dean, I thought you and Dean were dating or you liked each other, and I was scared to text you-“

I started laughing again, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. “No way, Dean and I are friends! He just calls me Beanie cause I wore one the first time we met.”

”Phew.” He pretended to wipe off sweat from his forehead, adjusting his glasses. “I-I thought I had some competition, to say the least.” 

“There’s nothing in your way, trust me.” I grinned. 

I woke up, squinting my eyes at the bright light of the sun and sighing. I giggled when an arm wrapped around my waist, somebody peppering kisses along my shoulder. 

“Last night was amazing.” Xavier whispered in my ear, and I turned around to face him. 

“Last night was a blur.” I joked. “Can you remind me what happened?” 

“Are you-“ 

“I’m kidding!” I laughed, cupping his cheek and rubbing my thumb against it softly. “Yeah, last night was… I don’t have words.” 

“Your phone is ringing, though.” He whispered, and I pulled the sheets over me as I reached over, seeing the caller ID. 

Sam. 

“Oh, damn.” I cursed, then picked it up. “Hey, Sam?” 

‘Ivy, thank god. You didn’t come home last night, where are you?’ 

“You know Nate, right? I met him at the bar, but I was a bit drunk and he took me to his house since it was nearer and neither of us brought cars.” 

‘You could’ve called either me or Dean.’ 

“And risk either of you ranting about how dumb the other person is? Hell no.” 

‘True- Dean, you’ll get your chance to talk- hey!’ 

‘Text me the address, Beanie, I’ll be there in five.’ 

“Fine.” I cut the call, texted Dean the address, then grabbed my clothes and quickly slipped into them. 

“Call me later, yeah?” Xavier asked while putting his shirt on. The moment it went on, I never could’ve guessed he was jacked. 

“Of course I will.” I kissed his cheek then his lips, but he kept me there by holding my hips. I pulled back, grinning. “Dean’s gonna give you the dad talk if he finds us kissing, even if he’s not my dad.” 

“Right.” He combed his hair while I reapplied my lip gloss, picking up my keys and putting on my jacket. 

“By the way,” I breathed, “you have the hottest sleeper build ever.” 

“Glad to know.” He smiled, kissing my hand just as the roar of the Impala came from the other side of the door. I opened the door, waving and getting into shotgun, turning to Dean. 

“No call.” He lectured. “No text, no warning that you might not be back-“ 

“Chill, Dean.” I sighed. 

“And even after that, there’s no sign of a hangover. In fact, you’re weirdly glowing…” He paused, his head whipping round. “You got laid.” 

“I, uh…” He pulled my collar down then let out a loud laugh, returning my collar to where it was. “You did! And by geek guy as well!” 

“His name is Xavier.” 

“I thought it was Nate.” 

“He’s undercover investigating Angela.”

”We’re on a hunt and you got yourself laid.” 

“Don’t think I don’t know about Cassie.” 

The comment made him pause. “No comment. Was he good?” 

“WHAT?!”

”It’s a genuine question! Did he treat you right?” 

“He was great.” 

“Then I have no problem.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You deserve to be happy, Beanie. My job is to protect you.”

We ended up at Angela’s roommate, Lindsey’s, apartment. Dean unlocked it, and we walked in, and he picked up a picture, but there was a reflection. 

Of Lindsey. 

“Who the hell are you?” She confronted before she shut the door, seemingly locking it. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!” Dean called. 

“I’m calling 911!” 

“Hear me out!” I spoke up. “I’m here with Angela’s cousin. Alan? Alan Stanwick? We’re here to pick up Angela’s stuff because her dad sent us.” 

She opened the door slightly. “He never told me you were coming.” 

“We have the keys to your house, sweetheart.” I smiled, holding up the keys. 

“Who are you?” 

“Naomi Wickham.” I lied. “Alan is my… boyfriend.” 

She came back out, coming face to face with us. She sat down on the sofa, and started crying, so we sat down and handed her a Kleenex tissue. 

“So. I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see.” Dean- I mean Alan- said. “Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?”

”She was great.” She sobbed. “She was so, so…” 

“Great?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded before breaking down again. In an attempt to play the kind girlfriend, I gave her a tissue. 

“Here you go.” I soothed. “You two must have been really close, huh?”

”We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt.” 

“Who?” Dean asked. 

“Angela’s boyfriend.” 

“Right.” I nodded. “What about him?” 

“He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat. Who does that?” Lindsey wailed, taking another tissue. 

“That’s terrible.” 

“He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess... I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days.”

”Messed up how?” Dean asked. 

“He kept on saying that he saw her everywhere.” 

“Well, I’m sure that’s normal, with everything he was going through.” 

“No, he said that he SAW her. As in, an acid trip or something.” 

“Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?” Dean persisted.

“What? No, of course not, why do you ask?” She looked confused, so I had to step in. 

“Just checking, Lindsey. Where did Matt live?”

We opened the door to my safe house, hearing something weird going on with the television. Sam threw down the remote, acting as if nothing was wrong. 

“Hey.” He coughed. 

“Hey.” Dean grimaced. 

“Awkward.” I whistled. “Let’s not have me come home to that again, eh?”

”Where in the hell were you?” Sam asked, deflecting. 

“Working my imaginary case.” Dean sniped. 

“Yeah? And?” 

“Well, you were right, I didn't find much. Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings.” 

“Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here.” 

“Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think.” 

“Hey, maybe we should check out the overall situation.” I interrupted. “We went to Matt’s apartment and it’s the same thing as the cemetery. Dead  plants, hell, even dead goldfish.” 

“So, unholy ground?” Sam asked. 

“Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela.” Dean picked up a pink book, showing it to us. “I have been reading this, though.” 

“You stole the girl's diary?” 

“Yeah, and if anything, she’s a little too nice.” I remembered a book from Dr Mason’s room, so I pulled out every language book I had in my satchel.

”Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world.” Dean turned to me. “What’s going on, Beanie?” 

“Did you see a book with strange symbols in Dr Mason’s room?” I asked, flipping the book. 

“Yeah, I showed him it.” 

“I’m gonna need at least a few samples.” 

“I didn't realise the college employed grief counsellors.” We were at the house of a guy named Neil, who seemed to be close friends with Angela. 

“Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. Or maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jump-starts the healing.” Dean nodded. 

“Well, I think I’m ok, thanks.” Neil refused. 

“You heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I smiled. “Grief can make people do crazy things.”

”Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't 'cause of grief.” 

“No? Then why?” 

“It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it.” He said it almost bitterly, piquing my interest.

”How, Neil?”

“Well, she really loved that guy. But the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl.” Neil explained. “She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Um, look, I gotta get ready for work, so ... thanks for the concern, but... seriously, I'll be okay.” 

We left the house, a little more assured than last time.

“Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense.” Dean shrugged. “I mean, hell hath no fury...” 

“So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?” Sam asked as we got into the car. I was in the driver’s this time to give Dean a break. 

“Well, there's one way to be sure.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Burn the bones.” 

“Are you high?” I scoffed. “By ‘burning the bones’ you mean burning a still rotting body. That could release an angrier spirit.” 

“C’mon,” Dean chuckled, “since when are you afraid to get your hands dirty?” 

We were digging Angela’s grave, the three of us panting as we tossed soil into a large pile. When we were done, Dean gestured to the coffin.

“Ladies first.” He joked to Sam, who winced and opened the coffin-

“What the hell?” I exclaimed. The coffin was empty. 

“This can’t be possible.” Sam frowned. 

“They buried the body four days ago.” Dean fumed. 

“I don’t get it.” 

I aimed my torch at the side of the coffin, seeing inscriptions. I got in, bending down so I could see the letters properly. 

“Beanie? Got something?” Dean called. I pulled a pen and a flip notepad out of my inside pocket, balancing the notepad on my knee as I quickly wrote down the inscriptions, every small marking possible. “Beanie!” 

“We need to get back to the safe house.” I clicked my tongue, holding out my torch to see the paper. “I’m not translating this thing in a graveyard.” 

“Alright, what now?” Dean asked, sitting down at the table. I sipped a cup of coffee, taking out every language book in my satchel and laying them out on the table, opening them to the title page. Then I reached in, digging my hand around, shoulder deep. 

“Ivy, say something.” Sam urged.

“Alright, then.” I cleared my throat, still searching. “Where is this thing? Oh, right. So, that is an Ancient Greek dialect, as you know. But it’s gonna take me days to find the right one, and we don’t have that kind of time, so I need a little help.” I closed my fingers around a long cylindrical vial full of clear liquid. “Is this the truth serum?” I pulled the cap off, tapping the side twice. It glowed blue, so I smiled. “This is it.” I dipped a finger in it and made an inscription on the paper, feeling proud that I could actually still somewhat retain something from my witch days. “It’s actually relieving that I can still use some parts of sorcery.” I poured a careful amount in my hand and flicked it, drops of water landing on the front pages, but they absorbed the liquid and were left dry. 

“What are we waiting for?” Sam whispered. 

“Wait for it.” I grinned, and then the pages of every book started moving, flipping back and forth, searching for the right dialect. 

“This is cool.” Dean laughed, his hands out and his expression like a child. “We’re experiencing witchery firsthand, Sammy.” 

“I can see that, Dean.” Sam quickly replied. Then some books started closing with a snap, all of them shutting until one in the top left corner opened on a page with the exact dialect on it. I picked it up, placing it down on the left of the sheet I’d copied the scripture down on. 

“Vitam superiorem voco. Legiones inferorum voco. Magnam virtutem invoco, o diabole, ut hanc animam vivifices. Mihi, illis, vitae.” I recited.

”Hey, you might summon a body!” Dean warned, but I waved him off. 

“I need to inscribe this on a coffin for it to work, so chill, you little squirrel.” I chuckled, then looked over them again. “Translation: I call it a higher life. I call the legions of hell. I invoke a great power, O devil, for you to revive this soul. For me, for them, and for life.” I whistled. “This is an incantation for a ritual typically used in necromancy. You can use it to chat to souls on the other side or revive fresh corpses. But you can’ just do a random person, it has to be someone close to you and it requires a blood sacrifice.” 

“Blood sacrifice?” Sam repeated. 

“You heard me. Person we’re looking for most likely has a rune in their arm. But best bet? Dr Mason. Man knows his Ancient Greek.” I drew air in through my teeth, stacking the books one by one and placing them in my satchel. 

“I know we’ve never really touched the subject, but…” Sam pointed to my arm, the one with the rune on it, “how do you get by without your powers?” 

“I’ve done a lot of hobbies, and one was hunting. I’ve been training since I was around six or seven, which was when Dad taught me how to draw pretty shapes with salt, what he called holy water and oil. Then when I was ten, he gave me books on different creatures and how to kill ‘em. Then when I was thirteen, he took me to a range in the middle of the woods where he taught me to shoot. By the time I was off to college, I was an expert marksman, a good fighter since he’d put me in martial arts, I knew almost everything there is to know about things and how to kill ‘em. I only got my powers at 19, so I could get by pretty well if I didn’t have ‘em.” 

“Your dad taught you well.” Dean smirked. 

“Yeah, by the time I was, what, fifteen, I could just do this.” I covered my eyes, aiming for a target board on the wall and firing, uncovering my eyes and seeing that it hit bullseye. 

“I couldn’t do that at fifteen.” He grumbled. I checked the time, then cleared my throat. 

“I’ve gotta go, boys.” 

“Why?” Sam asked. 

“I’ve got a date.” The two whistled, making me grimace. “You’re both idiots.” 

“Well, c’mon, we need to get you ready!” Sam grinned, starting to fluff up my hair. Dean folded my jacket’s collar, clicking his tongue. 

“You go and spend some time with Xavier, we’ll confront the old man.” Dean winked. 

“If we need you, we’ll call you.” 

“Thanks, guys.” I smiled. “Even if you two are both annoying.”

”You’re like our sister, Beanie.” Dean smirked, taking my necklace and hanging it down the front of my shirt, where the green stone was visible. “But if Xavier breaks your heart, I am taking my pistol and going for him myself.”

”I don’t know, maybe I can talk to Angela to get the deed done.”

I was waiting for Xavier outside a bar, when I felt someone’s presence. 

“Who’s there?” I frowned, putting my hand on my gun. 

“Don’t shoot.” Angela was beside me. “You’re Ivonne. Ivy.”

”Speaking.” I still kept my hand on my gun. “But why?”

”I know your brother. Carter.” She explained. “We met on the other side and asked me to find you. He wants to tell you who took over his mind the night he died.”

”Tell me.” I gritted my teeth. “Angela, so help me, tell me who did it.”

”It was-“

”Ivy?” Xavier was walking towards me, and the next thing I knew, Angela was gone. “Hey.”

”Hey.” I grinned, pecking him on the cheek. “It’s been such a long time.”

”I know, eight hours is way too long.”

After a while of talking, I got a phone call from Dean. I picked it up, sighing. “Really? Three hours?”

’It wasn’t Dr Mason.’ Dean replied. ‘But, uh, we need some help with the rest of this.’ 

“Do you need my help so you don’t verbally assault anyone else?”

‘Pretty much.’ 

“I’ll be there.” I cut the call, grimacing. “The boys need me.”

”That’s fine.” Xavier shrugged. “I don’t mind it, cause I know how it is. Go, solve the case.”

”Ok, Xavier.” I smiled, giving him a kiss. “Thanks.”

”Go get it, then thank me again.” He grinned, and I picked up my stuff, got a taxi and drove back to the safe house. I unlocked the door, hung up my jacket, and went into the kitchen. 

“You needed me?”

”We think Neil is the one who brought back Angela.” Sam explained.

”Is there some voodoo that you can use to track the spell’s caster down?” 

“There should be, yeah.” I nodded, reaching in my satchel and pulling out a spell book and a bundle of rosemary. I arranged the rosemary into a rune, writing Neil’s name onto a sheet of paper and taking Dean’s lighter, muttering an incantation before burning the paper, letting it fall onto the rosemary. All of it burnt to ashes, but then turned red and started forming a person. A person who looked like the spitting image of Neil himself. “There we go.” 

“Neil resurrected Angela.” Sam breathed. “The things you’d do for love.” 

“But these things are typically what you shouldn’t do.” I clicked my tongue. “Sam, anything in John’s journal?” 

“No lore.” He shook his head. 

“What, you can’t just smoke ‘em with a headshot?” Dean asked. 

“Man, you watch way too many Romero flicks.”

“Well, they can’t be unkillable.” I pulled out a book and opened it. “Oh, god help me, this is in Babylonian even though it’s an Ancient Greek manner of killing the revived. Give me a second.” I peered at it for a second. “The most sure-fire way to kill these things is through a blood sacrifice. Theirs. In order to get the blood, they say you have to ‘nail the dead into their grave beds’.” 

“We have to find dear Angie, then.” Dean resolved, storing his gun on his person.

”But Angela’s going to be hard to neutralise, so prepare silver bullets just in case.” I replaced the cartridge full of lead bullets in my gun with a cartridge of silver bullets. 

“Got it.”

We unlocked the door to Neil’s house, my gun held up. 

“Hello? Neil?! It's your grief counsellors- we've come to hug.” Dean called, and I gave him a look. “What?” 

“Really?!” I whispered as he pulled out a gun. 

“Silver bullets?” Sam asked. 

“Enough to make her rattle like a change purse.” Dean smirked. 

“Wilted plants.” I nodded. “And creepy basement door. Unless he keeps his private collections down there, I’d say this is a good place to keep a killer zombie.”  Sam opened the door and both Dean and I sped to the landing, holding our guns out as we stepped down the stairs. However, it was empty. 

“Sure looks like a zombie pen to me.” 

“An empty one. You think she’s gone to get someone?” 

Dean pulled back a vents revealing a hole. “Nah, I think she’s gone to rent beaches.” 

“Look, smartass, she might kill someone. We gotta find her, Dean.” 

“Well, Matt was killed because he cheated on Angela, right?” I asked, hands in my pockets. 

“Yeah.”  They both answered. 

“So it takes two to tango. Plus, Angela’s roommate Lindsey seemed a little too attached to Matt’s death.” I deduced. “I think we need to pay another visit to Lindsey.” 

We drove up to Lindsey’s house, running up to the front door. We opened it and I ran past the boys, aiming at Angela and firing three times. She writhed, screaming and facing us. I shot one more time, hitting Angela in the chest, and she cried out and ran out of the window. 

“I’ve got you.” Sam whispered to Lindsey, holding her. Dean ran out of the window that Angela burst through, running back in a second later. 

“Well, that dead chick can run.” Dean scoffed. “I think we should have a little chat with Neil.” We made sure Lindsey was safe before running to the car, getting in and driving off to Neil’s house.

”So the silver bullets, they did something, right?” 

“Something, but not enough.” 

“Time to try the nailing into their grave thing as a Plan B.” I grimaced. “I know where we can get a pole from, so I’ve made a call. This is probably where all the vampire lore comes from, now that I think of it.” 

“How the hell are we going to get Angela back to the cemetery?” Dean asked. 

“You tell me, Winchester.” We pulled up at Neil’s office, knocking sharply on the door. When there was no answer, I took a picking tool and opened it, all of us advancing into his room. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Neil asked, standing up. 

“You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you -- you take the cake.” Dean scoffed. 

“Ok- who are you guys?” 

“You might want to ask Angela that question.” 

“What?” 

“We know what you did, Neil.” I persisted. “You brought back Angela. Kid, I’ve gone through a fair share of rituals myself and I know one when I see one.” 

“You're crazy.” Neil stammered. 

“Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy?” Dean scoffed. “When someone's gone they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff.”

”It’s black magic, Neil.” I sighed. 

“Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey.” Sam exclaimed urgently. 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Neil whispered. 

Dean stomped over, taking Neil roughly by the collar. “Hey! No more messin’ around, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. All of us can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!” 

“She’s at my house!” He burst out, looking hounded. Dean spotted a wilted plant and so did Sam and I, so Dean formulated a plan.

”You sure about that?” When Neil nodded, Dean smirked his proud smirk. “Listen. It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some-some scar weed, some candles... It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us.” Dean stared intently. “I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now.” 

“No, no.”

I leaned in, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I get your situation, Neil. But more people could die. So, listen to me carefully. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad.” He nodded shakily, and I patted him in the shoulder. I raised my voice deliberately, turning to Sam and Dean. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“You really think this is going to work?” Sam asked. 

“Nope.” Dean shrugged. “But it’s the only plan we’ve got.”

”You ordered a metal pole?” Xavier showed up with a pointy metal rod, which he gave to Dean. 

“Yeah, we did.” I grinned, kissing Xavier briefly. “Thanks, Zay.” 

“We owe you, man.” Sam grinned, shaking his hand. 

“Yeah, we do, Zay.” Dean teased. “I’m kidding. Name’s Dean.” 

“Xavier, as you know.” He smirked, both of them shaking hands. We heard a noise, and I pulled a gun from my arm holster, going in the direction of the sound. I heard steps behind me, so I turned around and pointed my gun at Angela, who stopped short, putting her hands up. 

“Wait! It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back.” She begged. “But it's still me. I'm still a person. Please.” 

“Do I care?” I scoffed, then shot her in the forehead. Her head snapped back as she screamed, and I started for the grave, but she tackled me, and twisted my head back. 

“I could’ve told you who killed your brother!” She snarled. “Now you have to die, just like he did.”

“Yeah, right.” I shot her in the chest, getting up and shooting again. Another bullet joined me: Dean’s. We both fired at her again and again, until she reached the end, to which Xavier fired a shot from his gun, and she fell in. Dean took the pole, stabbing it into her. 

“What’s dead should stay dead.” He growled. 

“WAIT! NO-“ Dean drove the stake through her, and she immediately went limp, cutting off her last plea.

”Finally.” I groaned, replacing my cartridge. 

Dean seemed rather off after we re-killed Angela, and Sam wanted to keep Xavier company, so the other two were driving back to my house in Xavier’s car. Dean’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white, and then he suddenly pulled over. He got out and so did I, watching as he sat down on the hood. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting down. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking down.

“For what, Dean?” 

“The way I've been acting. And for Dad. It’s my fault that he’s dead.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I know you and Sam've been thinking it -- so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone.” 

I sighed. “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.” 

“You, Sammy and Dad ... you're the most important people in my life.” He started crying, and I took his hand. “And now ... I never should've come back, Ivy. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You and Sam wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it. So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?” 

“I can’t.” I whispered, but I instead leaned his head on my shoulder, letting him cry it out. “But I know how you feel.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we could be more | dean winchester | 3

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

BLOODLUST

NOW PLAYING: REVENGE - TANFEELZ

I walked down the stairs, and when he saw me, Dean choked on his morning coffee while Sam sipped it, amused. 

“Morning, boys.” I smiled, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring one of my own, adding creamer. 

“Morning.” Sam smirked.

“Is that what you’re wearing on the case?” Dean asked, putting his hand over his chest. I looked down at my outfit, wondering if I should start teasing him or not. I was wearing a black cropped tank top, high-waisted slim jeans and was wearing a baseball cap. 

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “What, can’t call me Beanie now?” 

“I still will and you know it.” 

“Course you will, but what about my outfit is distracting, Dean?” 

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam chuckled. 

“Nothing.” He coughed. “Let’s just get in the Impala as quickly as we can. I can’t wait to drive her again.”

We were now in the Impala, driving to Red Lodge cause we’d gotten another case. Dean was happily singing along to the music, while Sam and I watched him, amused.

“Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?” He whooped, grooving along to the music.

”If you two ever wanna get a room, let Sam and I know.” I quipped, making Sam laugh.

”Oh, don't listen to them, baby. They don’t understand us.” He cooed.

”You’re in a good mood.” Sam smirked.

”Why shouldn't I be?” 

“No reason.”

”Got my car, got my case, things are looking up…”

”Wow, Dean, give you a couple of severed heads and mutilated cows and you’re Mr Sunshine.” I chuckled, making Sam cackle, and Dean laughed too, to my surprise.

”How far to Red Lodge?” He asked.

”300 miles.” Sam replied.

Dean’s eyes glanced back to where my bandage used to be, thinking. ”Beanie, are you good for me to-“

”Dean, I’m not fragile, just floor it.” I rolled my eyes, and he pressed the pedal to the metal, speeding up. 

We walked up to the sheriff in his office, who admittedly had an impressive moustache. 

“Hello sir, we’re with World Weekly News.” I introduced. “My name’s Lily Carter, and these are my partners Fred Logan,” I pointed at Sam, “and Jensen Barnes.” I gestured to Dean. “Is it alright if we ask a few questions?” I asked, and Dean and Sam looked at me in masked surprise, wondering how I lied so naturally. 

“The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all I can share with the press at this time.” He replied coldly. 

“Sure, sure, we understand that,” Sam nodded, “but just for the record, you found the first, uh, head last week, correct?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“And the other, a, uh, Christina Flanagan.” 

“That was two days ago. Is there-“ A lady knocked at the door, pointing at her watch. The sheriff turned back to us, frowning. “Alright, you three, time’s up.” 

“One last question-“ 

“Yeah, what about the cattle?” Dean interrupted, stopping the sheriff. 

“Excuse me?” He asked, eye twitching. 

“You know, the cows found dead, split open, drained... over a dozen cases.” 

“What about them?” 

“Is there no connection at all, Sherriff?” I persisted, writing down my notes in a notebook. 

“Connection… with..?”

”First cattle mutilations, now two murders? Kinda sounds like ritual stuff.” Sam insinuated casually. 

“Satanic ritual stuff.” Dean added. 

“You’re not kidding…” The sheriff trailed off.

”No.”

”Those cows aren't being mutilated. You wanna know how I know?” 

“How?” I asked. 

“Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cow drops, leave it in the sun, within forty eight hours the bloat'll split it open so clean it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground and get soaked up because that's what gravity does. But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you work for?” 

“Weekly World News.” Dean said confidently. 

“World Weekly News.” Sam corrected. 

“Weekly World-“

”World Weekly-“

”Weekly-“

”World-“ 

“World Weekly News.” I finished, closing my notebook. “They’re new. We’ll be leaving you to it, officer.” I walked out, prompting the two to follow after. 

“How are you so good at lying?” Sam asked. 

“You get good once you become a freak of nature.” I replied. “Hide your name or people will be after your blood and secrets.”

“What next?” Dean asked. 

“Examine the bodies. I’ve got a couple of doctor’s coats in the car.” 

“You touched my baby without telling me?” 

“I cleaned the fingerprints off, Dean, you’re fine.”

We walked over to the front desk of the morgue wearing our doctor’s coats. There was an intern at the desk, and when we walked up to the desk, Dean took a look at the tag, which read ‘J. Manners’. 

“John.” Dean guessed. 

“Jeff.” Jeff grimaced. 

“Jeff.” He repeated. “I know that. Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.” 

“But Dr Dworkin’s on vacation.” 

“But he’s back and he’s screaming for you right now, so if I were you, I would…” Dean whistled, and Jeff ran away. 

“Real smooth, Dean.” I sighed, taking a lock-picking tool and opening the door, letting us into the room with the heads. 

“Yeah, I know. Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?“ 

“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead.” Sam confirmed. 

“Yeah. So much f'd up stuff happens in Florida.” We got three pairs of latex gloves and put them on, wheeling out a tray of a corpse with a box between it’s legs. “All right, open it.” 

“No, you open it.” 

“No, you-“

”You-“ 

“Both of you are wusses.” I rolled my eyes, carrying the box to a table and opening it. They both approached, wincing at the sight of the decapitated girl’s head. “So, decapitated head, which is nasty, but the forehead is clean.” 

“Wow. Poor girl.” Sam tutted. 

“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat.” Dean suggested. “You know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.” 

“Yeah, here, go ahead.” 

“No, you go ahead.” 

“You thought of it.” 

“‘Put the lotion in the basket.’” Not a quote from Silence of the Lambs. 

“Again, you’re wusses.” I searched in the mouth, checking the teeth and airways.

”Beanie, do you need me to catch you if you-“

”I’m not going to faint, Dean, but you might.” 

“Just checking.”

”Dean, get me a bucket.” Sam asked from behind me. 

“Did she find something?” 

“No, I’m gonna puke.” 

“Hey, guys.” I beckoned them over and lifted up the lip again, and both of them retched. “Oh, grow up. Look at the gum. This hole here?” I pressed a hole in the gum, and two pointed teeth sprang out. 

“It's a tooth.” 

“Sam, that’s a fang.” Dean corrected. “Retractable set of vampire fangs. You’ve gotta be kidding me.” 

“Well, that changes things.” Sam grinned. 

“Ya think?”

We entered a bar, where there was a man smoking at the counter. We were moving to sit down when Dean pulled out my chair for me and tucked it in when I moved to sat down. Sam and I gave him a weird look, but let it go. 

“How's it going?” Dean nodded, sitting down. 

“Living the dream.” The bartender replied coolly. “What can I get for you?” 

“Three beers, please.” 

“So, we're looking for some people.” Sam started nervously. 

“Sure. Hard to be lonely.” 

“Yeah. But um, that's not what I meant.” He dropped a 50 dollar bill on the table, and the bartender took it. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink...” 

“Sleep all day, party all night, kind of thing.” I added. 

“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot - drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.” The bartender informed, cleaning a glass. 

“Right, thanks.” We got up, leaving our half-finished beers on the table. The man who was at the bar was gone, but his cigarette was left. We walked out, and I took my gun out of my pocket, holding it inconspicuously. 

“Do you also see the guy behind us?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, we do.” Dean hissed. “Let’s lose him then question him.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” I whispered, and we quickly went to the right, and heard the footsteps behind us stop. 

“Beanie, stay back, cause if this guy’s a vamp, he’s dangerous.” 

“The hell I will. Why are you being so protective?” 

“He’s here.” Sam muttered. 

“We’ll talk about this later.” Dean grumbled before he sprang out, taking out a knife and throwing the guy against a wall, holding the blade to his neck. “Smile.” 

“What?” 

“Show us those pearly whites.” 

“Oh, for the love of -- you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire.” He looked at Sam’s stunned face and nodded the best he could. “Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.” 

“What do you know about vampires?” Sam interrogated. 

“How to kill ‘em. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.“ He started to pull away, but Sam reached in and pinned him harder to the wall. “Easy there, Chachi. We’re trying to keep me conscious here, aren’t we-“ I pulled Dean’s hand away from the guy’s neck and hook punched him, making him groan. 

“You’re not in charge here, we are.” I growled, cocking my gun and holding it up. “So you better give us something before you find this at your temple.” 

“Alright, alright!” He pulled up his lip, showing us his gum. “No fangs, happy? Gorgeous form, by the way.” Sam let him go, all of us relaxing.

“Damn, Ivy.” Sam breathed. 

“Damn it is.” Dean chuckled. 

“I like her.” The man chuckled, gesturing to me. “She one o’ your girlfriends, or somethin’?” 

“They’d be honoured if I was.” I smirked. 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” 

“Ivonne Rainer.” 

He looked surprised, raising his eyebrows. “Rainer? You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?” 

“Mick Rainer?” Dean repeated. 

“Yeah, I’m his daughter.” I breathed. “What of it?” 

“I’ll be damned.” He grinned. “I’m Gordon. Come with me.” We started walking to the car park. “And you boys?” 

“Sam Winchester.” Sam introduced. “And, uh, my brother Dean.” 

“I’ll be damned again. John Winchester’s boys? It’s like I’ve hit a jackpot.” We reached his car, and he opened it, revealing an arsenal of weapons. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot. Then there’s Michael Rainer.” He turned to me, whistling. “I ain’t ever met a man who can wrangle a spirit, demon, ‘geist, you name it- faster than he can. Shame he passed away as well.” 

“Your dad’s dead?” Sam asked me, looking concerned. 

“Again, story for another time.” I groaned, folding my arms. 

“You seem to know a lot about our families.” Dean frowned. 

“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk.” 

“I don’t think they do.” I scoffed. 

“There’s a lot your dads didn’t tell you, then.” 

“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam asked. 

“Yep, been here two weeks.” I looked at his arsenal until I saw the hook, which had bloodstains on it. They were fresh. I looked back at Gordon, biting my lip. 

“You ok?” Dean whispered in my ear. “Anything hurting?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I snapped back. 

“Just checkin’, Beanie.” He turned back to Gordon. “Did you check out that Barker farm?” 

“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” Gordon shook his head. 

“Where's the nest, then?” 

“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.” 

“We can help.”

”Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.” 

“Come on, man, I’ve been itching for a hunt.” 

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” Gordon got in his car, looking out. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off, leaving us to stew in the events. I slipped the keys to the Impala from Dean’s pocket, storming over to the car. 

“Bea- Ivonne!” Dean called, walking behind me. “What the hell?!”

Sam’s footsteps joined Dean’s. ”Dean, let me handle this-“ 

“No!” 

I got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door. Dean and Sam got in, Dean in the seat beside me. I groaned in frustration, thankful that I didn’t have my powers. “Stupid Gordon revealing stupid everything-“

”Revealing what- Ivonne, talk to me! What the hell’s going on-“

”Dean!” Sam silenced Dean, leaning forward. “Can we talk about this once we’ve actually gotten a place to stay? Cause I personally don’t wanna die in a car crash and the last thing I hear is you two yelling it out!” 

Dean sat back in his seat, groaning. “Fine.” 

I didn’t say anything, I just started driving.

When we got a motel, the first thing Dean did was round on me. 

“Is that the person who died, Ivonne?” He interrogated. “Cause you seem a whole lot angrier since Gordon mentioned Mick Rainer’s death.”

”What happened to my dad is none of your business-“ 

“A lot of things about you is none of our business!” Dean burst out. “Hell, the most I know about you is your name and what kind of coffee you like! You said your dad wasn’t around a lot and now both Sam and I know why, but you’re not telling us anything!” 

“What about you, Dean, huh?” I countered, stepping forward and sizing him up. I was shorter, but oh well. “You’re not tellin’ me a lotta things either. You’re acting like I’m gonna collapse and die any minute, asking me if I’m doin’ ok, pullin’ out my chair, so what’s the deal about that, eh?” Dean seemed at a loss for words. 

“We get that the subject is sensitive, but our dad died too.” Sam calmly explained. “We’d know how you feel.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“It’s hard to believe, but we do, and we want to help. We’re here to protect you. Tell us what happened.” 

I stayed silent.

“Then we’ll wait.” Sam assured, then hugged me. Dean stood there awkwardly, looking guilty. But not for this, I don’t think. When we stepped back, Sam smiled. “I’m gonna go get us some dinner.” He left, and Dean went into the bathroom. I opened my satchel, taking out some spare pyjamas and changing into them, laying joggers out for the boys. I changed into shorts, but the moment I pulled my top over my head, Dean walked in. He looked me up and down for a moment, at a loss for words again. 

“Damn.” He coughed, then seemed to realise. “Not damn, bad Dean-”

”You’re good.” I smiled briefly, pulling my pyjama top on. “We’re gonna be in this kind of situation a lot. I, uh, packed some joggers for you.”

”Thanks.” He picked them up, looked at them, paused, then put them down. “Look, Ivonne, I’m sorry.”

”For what?” I chuckled. “You’re right. You don’t know anything about me.”

”But what happened to your dad is your business. I’m not gonna pry, just tell me when you’re ready.”

”I can work with that.” 

“And about the protecting you and all that jazz, it’s cause I blame myself for that knife in you.” I immediately turned to him, folding my arms. 

“Hey, no, it wasn’t.”

”It’s just… it was my job to locate that guy and if I’d done it a little faster, your life wouldn’t be on the line.”

”You’d only find me dead with a knife in my jugular.”

”That’s specific.” He joked until he quietened down.  “That’s how your dad died.”

”Close.” I smiled. 

“And you’re attached to the name Lily Carter too.” He deduced.  “She close?”

”They.” I paused, sitting on my bed. “Lily and Carter Rainer. My brother and sister.” Dean sat beside me, clasping his hands. Sam walked back in, and, sensing the situation, pulled up a chair. “I think I should tell you what happened. You guys told me the deal with your mom, so it’s fair play.”

”When you’re ready.” Sam nodded.

“I was meant to be the eldest sibling of five. It was me, then Carter, fifteen, then Quinn, Carter’s twin, then Lily,  thirteen, then my mom’s unborn child, just 18 weeks in. I was 19. Quinn had been diagnosed with cancer just before mom got pregnant, and died soon after. It broke everyone, and even the gender reveal of my baby brother didn’t cheer anyone up. It was like we were soulless, and I didn’t talk to anyone for a long time, especially not Carter, who started acting up.” I paused, breathing out shakily. 

“You need to cut that attitude, young man.” I growled, facing Carter. “Quinn and dad are both dead, I know-“

”You don’t know!” He shouted.

”The hell I do! I’m trying my hardest to-“

”That’s where you’re wrong, Ivonne, cause you’re not trying at all.” Carter seethed. “Lily was taken out of school cause she kept crying and where are you during the day when I get into a fight?”

”Taking care of our mother.” I frowned. “Y’know, cause she’s pregnant with our brother and dad isn’t even alive to help so that means that I have to step in. Heck, he wasn’t even here in the first place. Just… go to your room!” I pointed to his room, and he stalked off, giving me a nasty look.

“Take your time.” Dean murmured.

”Nah, I need to… I need to get this out.” I gulped, trying to stop my voice from breaking. “If I don’t, I’ll explode. One day, we get the news that dad was found dead, but his heart was carved out of his body, almost so perfectly it was surgical. I completely bricked out Carter by then, cause I thought he didn’t need me and I had my own problems. Seems like a dreamwalking demon found his emotions good enough to feed on. In the night, I hear a scream, and then silence.” Tears started to fill my eyes as my voice broke. “I run to investigate and I find Lily dead with a knife stuck right through her jugular.” 

I was reading a book, flipping the pages absent-mindedly. I frowned, looking at the introduction of the main character’s younger brother-

“IVY!” I heard Lily scream. “IVY, HE-“

Silence.

“Lily!” I called, leaping out of bed and rushing up the stairs. “LILY!” I burst into her room and almost collapsed, and she was lying in her bed, eyes open and a terrorised face. 

But there was a knife stuck straight through her throat. 

“Lily!” I cried, running over. “Lily…” I felt tears run down my face as I kissed her forehead, smoothing back her hair. I cradled her, sobbing as I tried to ignore the gaping hole that had appeared in me where Lily once was. “I’m so sorry, Lil. I’m so sorry…” 

“God.” Dean breathed.

”Then I hear mom scream, then silence. I go up to her bedroom and there she is, a knife through her jugular and another in her belly, where my unborn brother was. We were going to name him Nathan. He wasn’t even alive yet and he was murdered…” I wiped a tear that went down my face. “Carter was there, smirking as if he did me a favour. Then another knife appeared in his hand, and he was about to do the same to me when he stopped and he…” I let out a loud sob, burying my face into my hands. Sam instantly moved to side hug me, while Dean gripped my hand. “He stabbed the knife… straight through his own  throat. He was dead before he hit the ground. He wasn’t even awake in the first place.”

I’d barely finished mourning over Lily when a second scream pierced the house, which was my mom’s.

”PLEASE, SPARE ME! IVY, HELP ME-“

Silence. 

I left Lily reluctantly, sprinting up the stairs two at a time to try and get there before the killer left. “MOM!” I kicked down her door, and I screamed at the sight. Blood stained her sheets, and there were two knives in her, one in her jugular and the other in her belly, where my now dead unborn brother is. I looked at the perpetrator and almost screamed. 

It was Carter.

He was standing there, eyes glazed but a wicked grin on his face as he held another knife, preparing to throw it at me. However, in the nick of time, I felt my hand close around something. I didn’t even think about how I could use whatever was given to me, I just raised it, my finger pulled something and two loud bangs emitted from it, two holes appearing in my brother’s chest, and just after a black smoke flew up and out of the window. I stared at what was given to me with shaking hands, gasping in horror. It was a gun.

I’d shot my brother.

I ran over to Carter, taking the nape of his neck in my hand as I looked into his eyes. They were still glazed, as if he was sleeping. 

He was sleeping. 

“A dreawalker got to you, Carter.” I whispered, my quiet sobs turning to racking ones. I checked the gun wounds, which were black and like a crater, almost. The gun was still in my hand as the front door was knocked down, policemen filing in.

”After that, I completely broke down. My family was gone and murdered. So I got out of the police case innocent, fled Jersey and I’ve been moving ever since.” 

“That…” Sam paused. “I don’t even know what to say.”

”My mom made my middle name Hazel cause it’s what she originally wanted to name me.” I whispered. “Her death, little Nate’s death, haunts me everyday. Even dad’s. I tried to buffer it by making the excuse that dad wasn’t there for anything and that mom cheated on him when she got the chance to, but it still hurts like hell. I can’t help but think if the dreamwalker will come back to finish the job with me.”

“Daniel Elkins?” I called out, venturing in. An old man turned around, frowning. 

“Who’s askin’?” He rumbled, standing up.

”Ivonne Rainer, Michael Rainer’s daughter.”

”You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?”

”That’s right.” He took a look at my face, nodding.

”You look just like him. Got a little bit of Audrey too.”

”I’ve been told.”

“I’m sorry for your losses.”

”Thank you.” I nodded, then held out the gun. “I developed a sorceress’s powers the night I got this gun, my powers gave it to me, but it’s not an ordinary one. I talked to hunters who knew my dad and they pointed me to you.” I gave him the gun, which he examined.

”Your powers are a blessin’, girl.” He said gruffly. “This is called the Colt. Can kill anyone an’ anything and all you have to do is pull the trigger and have good aim.” 

“Can you handle it?”

”Course I can. Who d’you shoot with this?”

”My brother, just after a dreamwalker left his body.”

He clapped my shoulder, looking solemn. “Ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”

”Ivonne, I am so sorry.” Dean pulled me into a hug, kissing my head. “I don’t have words either. But what happened isn’t your fault.”

“And we won’t let that dreamwalker hurt you.” Sam assured.

”We’ll kill it before it does.”

I felt kind of grateful for having Dean and Sam with me, but I also felt guilty.

”Do you need one of us to stay with you tonight?” Sam asked softly.

”Most likely.” I smiled awkwardly, then Dean raised his hand. 

“I’ll do it. Sammy’s gonna take up the bed, him and his giant DNA.” Dean volunteered, clapping Sam on the shoulder. He turned to me. “Whatcha thinking about?”

”I wanna track this Gordon guy.” I told them. “If he’s hunting vampires, he’s gonna do it tomorrow night and one may kill him. We don’t need another dead hunter.” 

“She’s right.” Sam nodded. “We can track him down in the morning.”

”In the meantime, I packed joggers for you guys.” I gestured to the joggers. “I figured that we’d need a change of clothes if we happened to stay the night anywhere.” 

“So that’s where that pair went.” Sam chuckled. “Nice one.” 

“Now we don’t have to sleep in jeans.” Dean grinned, picking his up.

Dean emerged from the bathroom with just his joggers on, making Sam groan. 

“Dean, it’s not you and I anymore.” He sighed. 

“You’re acting like I haven’t seen a guy shirtless.” I smirked, making them double take. “Yeah. I have flings too.” 

“Is Alex Wilde one of them, Beanie?” Dean smirked. 

“No.” 

“Well, there’s always time for it.” 

“Ivy, are you comfortable with it?” Sam asked.

“Course. I practically raised Carter, so I can handle you both. 

“That’s settled, then.” Dean grinned, shoving himself under the blanket. I quickly did my hair into a rope braid, and Dean’s eyes seemed to be… somewhere… on me. 

“Dean…?” I raised an eyebrow, turning. 

“Yeah, Beanie?” 

“What are you staring at?” 

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam smirked.

”I-I was staring at your necklace.” Dean stammered. “Wasn’t there before.” 

“Ellen gave it. It was my mom’s.” I grinned, ruffling his hair. “But it’s cute when you’re flustered.” I got into bed, laying down next to Dean, both of us facing the ceiling. Sam turned off the light and laid down, falling asleep soon after. I heard a shift next to me. 

“Beanie?” He muttered.

“Yeah?” I softly replied, turning my head to face his. 

“What was Carter like?” 

“He was like Sam, really. Smart, loyal, brave. Stubborn as hell. There’s not anything I wouldn’t have done for him. But he became a wreck after Quinn died, and it was so hard to recognise him. I guess that’s why I went so hard on him. I think I was trying to restore him in the worst way possible when I couldn’t deal myself.”

”I get that.” He whispered. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Sammy.”

”I can tell.” I smiled. “Even though you two fight like raccoons sometimes, you protect him. I just wished that I could have had the same thing with Carter.” 

“You did what you had to do.” He assured. “Poor kid could’ve suffered worse had he woken up and been arrested for the murder of his family.”

”I suppose.” I shrugged. “Then again, I would’ve put my prints on the knives and said that I did it.” We stayed silent, just staring at the ceiling.

I shivered; it was cold. And, as if he had a radar, Dean sat up on his elbow, looking over. “You’re cold.” 

“Excellent spot, Dean.” 

“Sammy once said that staying close can preserve body heat.” 

“Dean Winchester, are you trying to hit on me?” 

“No, no! I do not. It’s that… I’m really warm, and I don’t want you to be cold cause then you’ll be uncomfortable-“

”I get it.” I grinned. “Sure.” 

“Alright, uh…” He chuckled. “How are we gonna do this?” I scooted up to him, laying my head in the crook of his neck while my hand rested on his chest. His arm wrapped around me, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my arms. 

“You weren’t kidding.” I laughed. “This is like a radiator.”

“And you weren’t kidding about being cold.” He kissed my hair, sighing afterwards. “It’s only been a few, Beanie, and it doesn’t always seem like it, but I care about you. You take care of Sammy when I can’t. Heck, you’ve even saved my life-“

”Don’t say it.” I whispered, looking up. “Cause I know.”

I opened my eyes, yawning softly. Dean’s eyes were shut and Sam was cocooned in his blanket, so I pried myself out of Dean’s arms and quickly changed into a Led Zeppelin band shirt and jeans, pulling a black beanie over my head. Carter’s beanie. I got out a map, sat at the table and started triangulating the two murders and finding out the third location.

”Thanks, dad.” I whispered as I circled the third. I left a note for Sam and Dean, walking out and coincidentally running into Gordon. 

“Morning, Ivonne.” He nodded.

“Gordon.” I replied with a small smile. “I thought I was the only early bird today.”

”I like to get a head start.” He grinned, and I felt unsettled a bit. 

“Understandable.”

”Hey, uh, the gun you pointed at me, was that your dad’s gun?”

”It was.” I took it out of the inside of my jacket, holding it up. 

“Mick Rainer’s gun.” Gordon chuckled. “Stuff of legend among hunters. There’s talk that it dated back farther than the Colt, and every owner, before passing it on, heats the metal and remoulds it, making the pattern-“

”-in the image of the next chosen holder, complete with their name.” I stored the gun back, smirking. “I know that story off by heart, thanks. Now, if you excuse me, I need to get breakfast for the boys.”

”BEANIE-“ Dean rushed out then stopped, still pulling on his shirt. “Oh.”

”Dean, I left a note.” I sighed.

”But I had to check!” He slumped. “Fine. Sam is cranky.”

”We better get that breakfast then.” I grinned. “Nice running into you, Gordon.” We walked off, and Dean turned to me, leaning in.

“Got a beer in your satchel?”

”I have a breath mint.”

”Ouch.” 

That night, we were driving up to the farm which I’d said was Gordon’s next hit location. We went over, and there Gordon was, close to getting decapitated. Sam sprang into action, pulling Gordon out, while I punched the vampire, Dean rushing in to deliver another hit while I kicked him. The vampire was shoved against the belt, and Dean reached up, bringing the saw down on his head.

I watched while a vampire got brutally killed. And as he stared down on the body, with blood splattered on his face, Dean didn’t look guilty. Not in the slightest. 

He looked like he enjoyed it. 

I frowned, looking down as Gordon laughed, looking up.  “I guess I owe you that drink.” We headed to the bar, where Gordon paid for the drinks. “I insist. Thank you, sweetie.“ He raised a glass, and Dean did too. “And another one bites the dust.”

”That’s right.” Dean smirked, both of them clinking glasses.

”Dean.” Gordon cackled. “You gave that big fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you.”

”Beautiful. It was absolutely beautiful.”

”Beautiful?” I cut in. Sam just stayed silent, laid back in his seat.

”You alright, Sammy?” Dean asked.

”Yeah.” Sam nodded.

”Well, lighten up, Sammy!” Gordon encouraged.

”Only Dean and Ivy get to call me that.” 

“Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”

”Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess.”

”Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job.” 

“See? That's what I've been trying to tell him. You could learn a thing or two from this guy.” Dean gestured to Gordon, but I tilted my head. Really? This dude?”

”Yeah, I could.” Sam grimaced, then stood up. “I’m not gonna put a downer on your parade. I’m going back to the motel.”

”I’ll go with him.” I stood up as well, smiling falsely as I walked behind Sam. “You boys enjoy yourselves.” 

“Hey, Sam?” Dean called, making Sam and I turn around. “Remind me to beat the buzzkill out of you later.” He threw the keys to Sam, who caught them. We walked out in silence, until Sam looked up. 

Sam coughed. “Is it just me, or-“ 

“Is Dean being a douche?” I smirked. “Yeah. Big time.” 

“This Gordon guy seems really off.” 

“He does.” I nodded. “So I’ve got a way to find out who this guy is.”

We hung the keys in our room, and I dialled a number, putting it on speaker. 

‘Harvelle's Roadhouse.’ 

“Ellen?” I grinned. “It’s Ivvy. Sam’s with me, and you’re on speaker.” 

‘Ivvy, Sam! So good to hear from you.’ 

“Same here, Ellen.” Sam laughed.  

‘You three are ok, aren’t you?’ 

“Yeah, we just had something to run by you.” I looked at Sam, patting him on the shoulder. 

‘Yeah, shoot.’ 

“Has a guy called Gordon Walker ever stopped by your bar?” Sam asked.

‘Yeah, I know Gordon.’ 

“And?” 

‘Well, he's a real good hunter. Why are you asking, sweetie?’ 

“We ran into him on a job and we’ll, we’re kind of working with him-“

‘Don’t do that, Sam.’ She warned. 

“I thought you said he was a good hunter.” I frowned. 

‘Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter's a good psychiatrist. Look, he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. If he's working on a job you boys just let him handle it and you move on.’ 

Sam looked concerned, so he spoke up. “But Ellen-“ 

‘No, Sam- you just… listen to what I’m telling you, ok?’

”Alright, Ellen.” I nodded then said bye and cut the call. “Do we trust her information?” 

“Rather her than Gordon.” Sam shrugged. “Besides, he sounded spooked.” 

“We need to warn Dean.” I sighed. “Before it’s too late and he’s a copy of Gordon.” We went out, Sam putting coins in a machine and taking out two Cokes. He gave one to me, and I cracked it open and drank some out of it. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but I ignored it. 

“Do you need my to get some food from the other one?” I asked. 

“Two packets of crisps, maybe.” He nodded so I went to the other one-

Oh, god. 

Noises of fighting rang out behind me, in which Sam was knocked out by two people, one holding a telephone that was used to knock him out. I pulled out my gun, aiming it at the woman who was holding it, 

“Bad move.” I growled. “You never attack someone when their back is turned.” One of them bared their fangs at me, but the woman stopped him. “Take one step, I dare you.” 

“She’s holding Michael Rainer’s gun.” The woman whispered to her companion. “She’s his daughter.” 

“What of it?” I frowned. 

“Can we trust her?” The man asked her. 

“We can try.” She whispered, then spoke up. “My name’s Lenore. I knew your father.” 

“Many people did.” I scoffed. “You’re just another Joe and Jane.” 

“He helped us.” She smiled. “And you can too. We need your help, Ivonne. He told us you could, if you ever found us.” 

I lowered my gun a little, then stiffened up. “How can I trust you?” 

“‘One bullet can make one family and break another as well, so be careful where you use it.’.” She cited. “He told us a lot about you. About the scar cutting across your eyebrow and where you got it from, which was your first hunt.” She gestured to her own eyebrow, and I started to get the thought that she wasn’t lying. “How you stole his old leather jacket and love wearing beanies. How he would’ve given anything to see you more. We need your help, so please, don’t shoot.” 

I took a deep breath before lowering my gun. “Fine. But I go anywhere Sam goes.” 

“Ok, but you have to promise not to tell anyone where the nest is.” She begged, and I nodded.

I was waiting for Sam to wake up, when I heard a familiar voice call my name. 

“Ivy?” I turned, seeing a guy with blonde hair and blue eyes who was making his way up to me. I laughed, standing up. 

“Will?” I hugged him, grinning. “No way!” 

“It’s so good to see you.” We stepped back, a goofy grin on his face. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna talk to me after we broke up.” 

“It’s not the principle that you were a vampire.” I sighed. “It was the principle that I move around a lot for my work.” 

He stared at me for a moment, a charged air in between us. “You like your work a lot, huh?” 

“I’ve minimised vampire killings.” I smiled. “Only the evil ones.” 

“That’s good.” He nodded. “I’m glad Lenore listened to my pitch.” 

“I’m really proud of you, Will.” I paused, “Even if animal blood is the broccoli of your world.” 

“I just wanted to protect you.” 

“And I owe you my life for that. Honestly, I thought you’d have gotten over me by now.” 

“You’ve probably heard this a million times, Ivy, but you’re impossible to get over.” He looked down, rumpling his hair with his hand. “I was just beginning to come to terms with our breakup and… now you’re here.” 

“Should I be happy or sad about that?” I chuckled. 

“I’d rather you be happy.”

“Will.” Eli came in, rounding the corner. “We need the girl.” 

“I’m coming.” I walked with Eli, and the moment Sam saw me, he started struggling. 

“Did you turn her?!” He growled, trying to break free. 

“I’m ok, Sammy.” I assured, kneeling down in front of him. “These guys are clean, trust me. They do drink animal blood.”

“We choke on cow's blood so that none of them suffer. Tonight they murdered Conrad and they celebrated.” Eli hissed. 

“That’s enough, Eli.” Lenore warned.

”Yeah, Eli, that’s enough.” Sam teased. 

“What's done is done. We're leaving this town tonight.” 

“Then why bring us here?” I asked. 

“Believe me, I'd rather not. But I know your kind. Once you have the scent you'll keep tracking us. It doesn't matter where we go. Hunters will find us.”

“So you’re asking us not to follow you.” Sam realised. 

“We have a right to live. We're not hurting anyone.” 

“Give me one reason why I should believe you.” 

“You know what I’m gonna do?” She got closer. “I’m gonna let you go.” She turned to Will, gesturing to us both. “Take them back. Not a mark on either of them.” 

“We need to stop Dean.” Sam whispered. 

“Yeah, we do.” I nodded.

We got back, and I leaned in the window to the driver’s seat. “Thanks, Will.” 

“It’s nothing.” He smiled, leaning closer. 

“Trust me, I owe you a lot for what you’ve done.” I grinned, tilting my head. Resisting drinking my blood, making the switch to animal blood, tackling members of your own family just to keep me safe, it’s a lot-“ I was silenced by his lips on mine, and I cupped his cheek, grinning stupidly when I pulled away. “I owe you for that too.“ 

“Pay me back later.” He smirked. “Your friend there looks like he’s gonna burst out into laughter.” I heard a snort, and I turned to Sam, who was looking up to the sky. 

“Don’t mind me.” Sam giggled. “I’m just looking at this really interesting pitch black sky while you two are smooching.” 

“Shut up.” I pulled a newspaper out of my satchel, thwacking Sam across the head before stuffing it back in. “You’re such a child.” 

“I never knew that you were a romantic.” 

“I was.” I smiled. “Will was a boyfriend.” 

“Looks like the boyfriend. You met him in the nest and now you’re both kissing. Will and Ivy, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G-“

”Scratch that, you’re a baby.” I opened the door to the motel room, and our smiles were wiped off our faces to see Gordon with Dean. I hung up my jacket, and my arm holster, which contained my gun, was left exposed.

”Where you been?” Dean asked. 

“Can we talk to you alone?” Sam asked, and Dean seemed to agree. 

“Mind chillin’ out for a couple minutes?” He followed us outside, and I shut the door. 

“Dean, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”

“What are you talking about? Where were you?”

”The nest.”

”You found it?” 

“They found us, man.” 

“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?” 

“None.” 

“Well, they didn’t just let you go-” 

“That’s exactly what they did, Dean.” I frowned. 

“All right, well, where is it?” Dean asked. 

“We were blindfolded, so no, we don’t know.” I lied. 

“Well, you've got to know something.” 

“We went over that bridge outside of town, but Dean, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.” 

“Why not?” 

“We don't think they're like other vampires. We don't think they're killing people.” Sam urged. 

“You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.” Dean asked, looking angry and confused.

”The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.” 

“And you believed them?” 

“Look at us, Dean.” Sam gestured to him and I. “They let us go without a scratch.” 

“Wait, so you're saying... no, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care.” He started walking, and we didn’t have much time to convince him. “We find 'em, we waste 'em.”

“Why?” 

“What part of vampire do you not understand?” Dean growled. “If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”

“So you would kill me if I still had my powers?” I asked, silencing him for a moment. “We kill ‘evil’, Dean, not just any supernatural force. They’re not killing people, so we don’t kill them.” 

“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.” 

“No, Dean, I don't think so, all right? Not this time.” 

“Gordon's been on those vamps for a year, man, he knows.”

“Gordon.“ I scoffed. 

“Yes.” He nodded defiantly.

“You’re taking his word for it?” Sam asked cynically. 

“That’s right.” 

“Ellen says he’s bad news, Dean.” I persisted. 

“You called Ellen?” Dean raised his eyebrows. We nodded. “And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, Sam. You may know her, Ivonne, but no thanks, I'll go with Gordon.” 

“Right, cause Gordon's such an old friend.” Sam seethed, fists clenching. “You don't think I can see what this is?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“He's a substitute for Dad, isn't he? A poor one.” 

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean’s teeth gritted, and I could practically feel the tension rising. 

“He's not even close, Dean. Not on his best day.” 

“You know what?” He chuckled, backing away. “I'm not even going to talk about this-“ 

“You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it.” Sam growled. “Because 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. It's an insult to his memory.” 

“Okay.” Dean nodded, then punched Sam. I didn’t think; I just felt red hot rage boil up and my hand swung round, slapping some silence into Dean. He just stared at me, holding his jaw. 

“Go.” I ordered, furious. “Go to your new best friend Gordon and when you’ve realised that we’ve been telling the truth, you’re come back and say sorry. And you better beg.” 

He seemed to regain his pride, gritting his teeth. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.” He left, and I turned to Sam, turning his face. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s bruising.” He nodded. “Are you okay, though? You seemed to blow up.” 

“Yeah, I just thought of Carter.” I nodded. “If anyone touched him, they’d be on the floor in seconds, I don’t care who they are.”

”I didn’t wanna hurt Dean. He’s just blindsided.” 

“Luckily I’m here to slap some sense into him, then.” 

“But we really do need to convince him.” 

“Fine.” We went back into the motel room, where Dean was gathering his stuff. 

“Gordon?” Dean called, but there was no Gordon. 

“You think he went after them?” Sam asked. 

“Most likely.” 

“Dean, we have to stop him.” I urged. 

“Really, Ivonne?” He scoffed, hand moving to his cheek, which was red. Good. “Cause I say we lend a hand.” 

“Just give us the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe us that.” I paused. “You owe me, Dean.” 

“Real good negotiator you are, Ivonne.” 

“Careful, or your cheek might turn purple instead of red.” I shot back. “Think about it, Dean.” 

“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.” We looked to where the keys were supposed to be, but they were gone. 

“He snaked the keys.” Sam whispered. We ran to the car, getting inside through picking the lock.

“I can't believe this. I just fixed her up, too.” Dean groaned while hot-wiring his car. ”So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?” 

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm.” I informed, looking at my own map. 

“How do you know?” 

“I counted.” 

“They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right and we hit the bridge.” Sam mapped out, tracing the path. 

“You two are good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Dean grimaced. 

We reached the house and went in, and I found both Lenore and Will tied to a chair, weak. 

“Sam, Ivonne, Dean. Come on in.” Gordon grinned, holding a small bloody knife. 

“Hey, Gordon. What's going on?” Dean asked, looking around.

”Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?” 

“Look, man-“ 

“Just grab a knife. I was about to start in on the fingers.” He made a cut down Lenore’s arm, and she wheezed weakly in pain. He did the same to Will, who groaned a bit louder, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to resist the pain. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, let's all just chill out, huh?” 

“I am chill.” Gordon replied coolly. 

“Gordon, just put the knife down.” Sam ordered, starting forward, but was stopped by Dean. 

“Looks like Sam here needs to chill.” 

“Just step away from her, all right?” 

“You’re right, I’m wasting my time. These two will never talk. Might as well put them out of their misery.” He pulled out a knife. “Don’t worry, I sharpened it, so it’s completely humane.”

”Gordon, I'm letting her go.” Sam frowned, stepping in Gordon’s way. 

“You’re not doing a damn thing.” Gordon seethed, pointing the knife at Sam’s chest. 

“Hey, Gordon, let’s talk about this.” Dean protested feebly. 

“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.” 

“The hell there is.” I took out my gun from my arm holster, pulling the trigger and hitting Gordon’s knife. It broke in half, the metal clattering to the ground. 

Dean stepped in. “That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one...” 

“Killed my sister?” Gordon cackled. “That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.” 

“You did what?” I seethed.

”It wasn't my sister anymore, it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you, Dean.” 

“So you knew all along, then?” Sam scoffed. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.” 

“Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” He slit Sam’s arm with the jagged knife, and Lenore’s teeth emerged, and she started to hiss and snarl. He pressed it to Sam’s throat, dragging him closer to Lenore. 

“Let him go! Now!” Dean ordered, taking out his gun and aiming at Gordon.

”Relax. If I wanted to kill him he'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.” The blood from Sam’s cut hit Lenore’s face, making her eyes turn red. “You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.” A tear ran down Will’s face at the sight of Lenore, and my jaw clenched. 

“No, no…” Lenore sobbed, regaining control of herself. 

“You see that, Gordon?” I snapped, taking the knife away from him and using it to cut Lenore and Will free. He collapsed into my arms, trying to stay upright. I cupped his cheek, his forehead leaning against mine. “I’ve got you. It’s ok, I’ll make sure you’re safe.” 

“We’re done here.” Sam fumed. 

“Sam, Beanie, get ‘em outta here.” I helped Will outside while Sam did Lenore, taking out a cloth and cleaning both of them. I was still holding my gun, and I changed the cartridge, chucking it away. 

“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” He asked.

”I have to.” I nodded. “Dean’s good, but Gordon knows more tricks.” 

“Wait.” Will coughed, and then he kissed me gently. “Don’t get hurt. Please.” 

“I won’t.” I assured before running inside. Dean flew through the air, hitting the wall and collapsing with a groan. I raised my gun, shooting Gordon in the shoulder, making his body fall back with the shock. His head hit the wall, and he slumped, unconscious. 

“Good talk.” I smirked, training it on him.

”You came back?” Dean coughed, getting up.

”Yeah, I’m not leaving you with this sadist.” I picked Gordon up, slamming his head against a doorframe on my way to the chair that Will was previously tied up in. “Oops.” I drawled, dropping him in the chair. Dean tied him up, looking sick with himself.

”All that talk about black and white, but you’re the one who’s tied up.”

We were back at the motel, when we got out, I faced a now recovered Will with a smile.

”Thanks for saving my life.” He grinned. “I guess you don’t owe me one anymore. Kind of wanted an excuse to see you anytime.”

”I want to give you that excuse, really.”

He realised, nodding sadly, but masked it with his winning smile. “You’re leaving.”

”Sadly.” I bit my lip. “I wish we had more time.”

”Yeah, now I have to start another cycle of getting over you.” He joked, but still looked heartbroken. 

“Well, I’m gonna make it harder, cause I still have to pay you back.” I grinned.

”Pay me back-“ I grabbed his collar, pulling him in for a kiss that he melted into instantly. His arms wrapped around my waist while mine went around his neck, my head tilting. His hands threaded in my hair-

“HAUN HAUN!” I heard Dean yell. “Mademoiselle et monsieur s’embrassent ! Que puis-je dire, c’est la vie !

“Ivonne et Will, assis dans un arbre!” Sam called. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

We pulled back, laughing. I turned to the boys, kissing my teeth. “You just HAD to say it in French!” 

“Yeah!” Dean grinned. 

“That was the WORST French I’ve ever heard!” 

“Thanks!” Sam snickered.

It was a week since the Gordon incident, and we had returned to my house. I was reading a book on my bed, engrossed in a scene from it simply because the main character was dying and I don’t see that, like, ever. 

“IVONNE!” I heard from outside. “HER LADYSHIP IVONNE RAINER OF THE KINGDOM OF NEW JERSEY, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HER CHAMBER WINDOW!” I rolled my eyes, putting down my book.

”What the hell?” I muttered. “What is this person playing at-“ I swept the curtain aside, and almost broke down laughing at who was heckling at my window. “Dean?!”

”Tis I!” He yelled, gesturing dramatically to himself. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

“Apologising!” He called back, a goofy grin on his face. “You said I needed to beg!”

”I never meant literally!” 

“Too late!”

”Dean-“

”I HEREBY PROCLAIM THAT I, SIR DEAN WHO HAILS FROM THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, WAS A DOUCHEBAG.”

”AND?!”

”AN IDIOT.”

”AND?!”

”A SPINELESS, CORRUPT, HORRIBLE PIECE OF WORK. ANYTHING ELSE?”

”No, sounds like enough slander.” I smirked, gesturing for him to continue. He then got down on one knee, making Sam, who was watching from the other window and recording everything, lose his cool, cackling loudly. 

“I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY AB-ABHORRENT BLASSsss…” He turned to Sam. “How d’you say it?”

”Blasphemy.” Sam repeated. 

“RIGHT, UH, BLAS-PEMY. I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY ABHORRENT BLAS-PEMY AND I IMPLORE YOU TO COME THITHER AND ACCEPT MY DEAREST APOLOGY.” 

“Should I?” I asked Sam, who was losing it. 

“I don’t know, this is fun.” 

“If I give you a kiss, Dean, will you stop?” I sighed, and he contemplated the situation before nodding. I went downstairs, swiping something from my drawer before meeting him outside. 

“Where’s my kiss, milady?” He smirked, standing up. I took his hand and placed something in it: a Hershey’s kiss. He grimaced at me while Sam almost fell out of the window in his mirth. “Ha ha, very funny.” 

“Needed to have an excuse to get rid of the last one.” I laughed. “But yeah, I forgive you. Now you need to repeat the act for Sam.” I grinned, patting him on the shoulder.

”SAMUEL! SIR SAMUEL WINCHESTER OF THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HIS CHAMBER WINDOW-“

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[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we could be more | dean winchester | 5

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N - My first OG episode, so enjoy!

DEAD MEN CAN’T SCREAM

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : CAN’T CATCH ME NOW - OLIVIA RODRIGO

“XAVIER NICHOLAS JACKSON!” I yelled. Xavier shrieked, jumping six feet into the air. 

“Here we go.” Sam muttered. 

“She used his middle name.” Dean smirked.

I picked up a pointer stick, slapping it on the sign. “SHOES OFF!” 

“Damn, fine!” Xavier hurriedly took off his shoes. I walked up to him, then smiled sweetly. 

“Thanks, love.” I gave him a kiss, leaving him dumbfounded.

”Welcome to our world, soldier.” Dean chuckled.

”Tough world.” Sam snorted. 

“So, Sammy, got any new cases?” 

“There’s one, and I think Ivy will be interested.” He placed the paper down. “String of murders here, all done by different people with no connection. However, once the murderers were caught, they turned out to be sleeping.” 

“Manner of death?” I asked, rushing over and taking the paper. 

“A knife.” Sam frowned. “In the jugular.” 

“Map it out.” I ordered, gritting my teeth. It was like a switch flipped in my brain. “I don’t care how we do it, we’re finding this dreamwalker.” Sam mapped out the killings, and I took a quick look. 

“Looks like nothing to me.” Dean shrugged. 

“This is Morse code.” I got out a sheet of paper, writing it out. “You… can… run… Ivy. It’s coming back. For me.” 

“T-To finish you off?” Sam stammered, leaning forward. 

“Seems like it.” I exhaled. “It’s taunting me. Telling me to run. I’m guessing that the next killings will spell out ‘but you can’t hide’.” 

“So we find out where. Find out how to kill this thing.” Dean resolved, placing his hand on the map. 

“How many sleeping people will we rifle through before we find this thing?” Sam scoffed. “We can’t barge into every home on a street and find out who’s sleeping, we’re going to have to try and track a person down, but even that’s impossible.” 

“That also means we can’t sleep.” I sighed. 

“What?” Xavier folded his arms. 

“That dreamwalker is coming for me. It could possess any one of us and the only thing it needs is for us to take a nap. After that, knives galore.” 

“Why knives?” 

“A murderer’s principle of extravagance. Or, a more plausible one, the ability to get the holder caught cause the dreamwalker isn’t gonna put on gloves before going psycho.” 

“And the, uh, neck bit?” Dean asked, pointing to his jugular. 

“There’s an ancient saying in dreamwalker lore everywhere.” I clicked my tongue. “‘Dead men can’t scream.’. The whole point to stab someone’s neck is to silence them. Their screams, their words, thoughts, everything. Cause if you take out part of the airway, you take them out.” 

“How are we gonna find out where it strikes next? Cause so far, the only thing we have is what it is and who it’s after.” 

“I don’t think so.” I drew an arrow from the first killing to the last. “Point A to B. We’re here,” I circled a place on the map, “and all the killings are making its way to us. It’s like it’s been tracking me.” 

“This is a change.” Sam chuckled. “We’re the ones being hunted this time.” 

“It’s not gonna be pretty, Sam.” I sighed. “Wherever we’re going, a trail of dead bodies are gonna follow.”

”That’s not particularly ideal.”

”Didn’t seem like it.” I loaded my gun, exhaling. “Well, we know what has to happen. You guys need to get far away from here, and I’ll deal with the ‘walker.” 

“No. No way.” Dean refused almost immediately. 

“We’re not leaving you.” Xavier agreed.

“It’s not like I’m giving you a choice.” I retorted. “Get in your cars. Go.” 

“You almost got skinned last time you came into contact with that thing.” Sam frowned. “How do you expect to survive this time?”

“I have books, lore on how to deal with something like this. If someone summoned it, I send it back to hell. If not, a destroying ritual will do the trick.” 

Dean scoffed. “You need backup-“ 

“I need space, Dean.” I started sharpening my knives harshly. “You stay close and you might end up with a knife in you.” 

“And if we turn our backs, you could be on the receiving end.” Xavier argued. 

“I know, but if I die, it stops the cycle.”

”You don’t know that.” Sam frowned. 

“Fine.” I gave up, folding the map. “We can all set off at sunrise. Just draw a protective rune with holy water on you before you sleep.”

However, I had other plans. I waited until the boys were asleep before gathering Sam’s research, stuffing it into my satchel before I grabbed my copy of the house keys, unlocking the door and leaving. I’d decided that the first place to go was the house where it all started, so I could figure out where it went. I ended up in Madison, New Jersey.

“Can I help you, miss?” A local asked. He was old, and I recognised him.

“Arthur Paisley?” I grinned. 

“Who’s askin’?” He retorted gruffly. 

“It’s Ivonne. Rainer?”

”Ivy, dear girl!” He broke out into a toothy smile. “Welcome back. Let me take you for a drink.” We ambled towards the bar, talking. “So, where have you been all these years?”

”On a road trip. I found some family friends and went with ‘em.” 

“The Winchesters, right?” He nodded. “Such a shame what happened to ya family. Little Carter…” 

I breathed out shakily, managing a smile. “Yeah. He didn’t deserve that.” 

“You did what you had to, girlie.” 

“I could’ve done something else.” We entered the bar, which was eerily empty. 

“But you did the first thing that came to your mind.” He vouched. “Lucky that gun was still on your father’s bedside table.” 

I stopped, turning around slowly as my hand slowly went to my gun. “Hold on. How did you know that it was a gun? Carter’s manner of death was kept private by the police. And nobody knew that I was with Sam and Dean.” 

“You’re famous around town, here, girl-“ 

“Cut it.” I snapped, taking my gun out. “And let Mr Paisley go.” 

“Ok.” He smirked. “But I’ll find you again. I need to finish my job off with you.” 

“Good luck.” I scoffed, flicking down the safety pin. Then the darkness disappeared from Paisley’s eyes, and I caught him before he fell, setting him down on a comfy chair before running off. The moment I was sure I wasn’t being followed, I got into my car, dialling Ellen and driving off.

‘Hey, sweetie. Are Sam and Dean with you?’ Ellen greeted. 

“Hey, El. And, uh, no. Just wanted to run a few names by you. There’s more, but I’ll give you a few.”

’Shoot.”

”Edward Sarkis, Pete Barnes, Vincent Wylie, Harry Terman, Lloyd Cole, Mark James…?”

‘I know the names. All seasoned hunters, with a wife and kids. None would stop comparing baby photos.’

”They’re dead, Ellen. I gulped. “Killed like Dad. Then their family was found with a knife in their throat the day after. The one who was blamed was the oldest kid of the family, and they’re all now in a mental asylum.”

‘You don’t think that it’s the same thing that killed your parents, do you?’

”I know it is. The killings spell out ‘you can run, Ivy’ in Morse. I need Ash to help and find a way to kill it.”

’I’ll get him on it. What am I supposed to tell the boys?’

”Nothing.” I frowned.  “If they come knocking or calling, you can’t tell them where I am.”

’Ivy, you know I can’t do that.’

”Ellen.” I begged. “Just do this for me, please.”

 Pause.

’Fine. But you better live.’

“I’ll try.” I shifted gears. “Can you find out a hunter who lives close to the last murder site?”

“Yeah. His name’s Xavier Jackson.” My heart dropped out of my chest as I turned the car around, flooring it. 

“XAVIER!” I screamed, bursting into my house, but the boys were gone. “Oh my god-“ I got a phone call, and I picked up seeing Xavier’s calling ID. “Zay, where are you?” 

‘A warehouse south from your house.’ I heard on the other end of the line. ‘I told you that you could run, Ivy, but I’d find you. Xavier seems like such a good guy. Why waste this opportunity to save your boyfriend?’ 

“Let him-“ 

‘I know why.’ He chuckled. ‘Because I’ve got your precious boys here with me.’ 

‘Don’t come here, Ivy!’ Dean ordered. ‘I swear, if you do-‘ 

“Dean-“ 

‘Ivy, please.” Sam begged. ‘Whatever you do, don’t come-’

‘See, Ivy, I don’t think you can listen to them.’ Xavier took back the phone. ‘Because you are going to come here. You’re going to come alone, and you’re gonna give yourself up. And I don’t think you can raise your gun again because to kill me you have to shoot your boyfriend. Just like you did Carter.’ 

“I’m gonna kill you.” I growled. “I swear to god, I will do it.” 

‘I’d like to see you try. You’ll find me, but get here by sundown. If not for me, do it for Carter.’ 

“Carter.” I whispered, getting back in my car. I fought off tears, putting the pedal to the metal as I sped off, but carefully not exceeding the speeding limit. I hit the wheel, my teeth gritted. “DAMN IT!” I knew which warehouse Xavier was talking about. There was an abandoned one south of my house here. Nobody cared about it. Nobody thought there was anyone in there, but right now, there were three captive men and one monster. I pulled up at the warehouse, taking a gun out of a compartment under my seat, loading it and getting out, kicking down the door to the warehouse and holding my gun up. 

“Don’t move.” Xavier had a knife held aloft, holding Sam’s head back by his hair. Dean was bound, his head hanging down with his eyes half open. “Put the gun down, Rainer. Come on, do a favour for your boyfriend.” 

“Zay, I know you’re in there-“ 

“Put the gun down.” He pulled Sam’s head back further, so I put my gun down, holding my hands out. 

“You got what you wanted, now let him go.” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Fine, then take me.” 

“Ivy, no…“ Sam muttered, his eyes barely open. 

“What have you done to them?” I gasped, my fist clenching. 

“Relax, it’s just a sedative.” Xavier smirked. “It’s not hurt them, just kept them incapacitated.” 

“You’re sick.” 

“None of this would have happened if you had just given yourself up. The cycle would stop. I’d leave and never bother anyone again. I was always after you, Ivy, little Carter didn’t need to die.” 

“Wh-What do you mean?” 

“Your anger was powerful to latch on to, but that night you just wouldn’t sleep. But Carter was asleep in the room opposite. I felt his pain, his animosity towards his older sister and, well, I just had to take the opportunity. But, as you can see, my revenge isn’t complete.” 

I was breathing heavily, my body feeling like it was on fire as red hot rage boiled up in me faster than a bullet could travel from point A to B. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” We rushed at each other, and I knocked the knife out of Xavier’s hand, ending up a metre from Sam. I elbowed Xavier in the face, punching him so hard that he fell on the floor. I climbed on top of him, punching him over and over, watching blood run down his cheek as heavy breaths escaped my mouth. I pulled out my gun, holding it to his head. I had prepared a replica, which was the one I’d surrendered before.

“Is this what this was about the whole time?!” I shouted, my hand shaking while my finger tightened on the trigger. “You wanted me to take the blame? Why didn’t you do it? My brother was fifteen, fifteen, but you marked him for death.” 

“It’s no one’s fault but yours, Ivonne.” He smirked. “Had you taken care of your family, he’d still be here. Now your two friends are next.” I was pushed off, and Xavier scurried to the knife, picking it up and holding it to Sam’s throat. “Dead men can’t scream-“

BANG. 

BANG. 

A cloud of black smoke escaped Xavier just as the bullets pierced his body, his eyes turning from dark blue to their usual light blue. He swayed, looking down at the two holes in his chest before he collapsed. Sam regained his strength and managed to cut himself and Dean, who was still half-asleep, loose while I rushed to Xavier’s side, holding his face in my hands. What had I done? What had I…

“Zay, please, no.” I sobbed. “We’ll get you an ambulance, anything, just don’t leave me.” I kissed his forehead, smoothing his hair back. “I’m so sorry.” It felt like my heart was breaking all over again, like I was out of control again. I hated it, but I couldn’t escape it. But the dreamwalker escaped… and I wasn’t quick enough.

“It’s ok.” He smiled weakly, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

“It was.” I sobbed, shaking my head. “You could have broken free-“

”It was too strong.” He whispered. “I love you so much, Ivy. But I wish we had more time.” 

“Don’t say that, don’t say…” He gently brought me down to kiss him, but halfway through, his hold on me loosened and I felt his arm fall onto the floor, going cold. I sat back up, the bitter truth hitting me. 

Xavier was dead, and it was my fault. 

I screamed, the sound falling deaf on my ears as Sam wrapped his arms around my midsection, trying to pull me away. 

“Ivy!” Sam yelled, but it sounded muffled. Like I’d shut everything out. “Ivy, we can’t help him! We need to go!” I went limp against him, crying my eyes out as the image of the dead body flickered between Carter’s and Xavier’s, lifeless and cold, with the same expression of terror. Please, not again. Not again.

“Yeah, you can’t help him.” Dean smirked, walking casually towards the body. “Another body, Ivy, what a shame. People just seem to be… dropping like flies around you.” The dreamwalker had possessed him, and both Sam and I took out our guns. My hands shook as I pointed my barrel at his forehead; please don’t make me shoot Dean. Not him. “Relax, this is only gonna be for a bit. You’ve only gotten away this time, Rainer. I’m going to complete my revenge someday.” 

“What revenge?” 

“I used to be a vampire.” Dean snarled. “But then my heart was carved out by none other than a gang of hunters, one of them happening to be Michael Rainer. I couldn’t resist it. I went after his family, and I found you, the strongest of the lot that was left. He trained you as well, so why can’t I put that to good use? However, you just couldn’t let me possess you. So Carter was a perfectly acceptable second choice.” 

“Get out of my brother.” Sam snarled. 

“As you wish.” The darkness left Dean’s eyes, and he immediately gasped, recovered and hugged me tightly, Sam joining in. I shook violently, tears still silently streaming down my face as my eyes landed on Xavier’s body in the middle of the empty space.

”Xavier had gone insane.” I lied, later on, shaking as I sat down in the interrogation room in a police precinct. “I went to visit my old family house in New Jersey when I got the call that Xavier had kidnapped my friends and he needed me to come and save them. We fought, and he had a gun on him, which I stole. I shot when he was about to murder Sam, and then I untied them.” 

“Story matches up.” The policeman nodded. “And injuries suggest the same. I don’t think we can press charges. You shot in self defence, and you stopped a kidnapping. Why you didn’t call us, I don’t know, but you did a good job.” 

“Can I leave, officer?’ I asked. 

“Yeah, I don’t see a reason to keep you.” I left the office, meeting Sam and Dean outside. Dean took me into a hug, kissing my hair. 

“We can take a break from hunting, if it makes you feel better.” Sam whispered, hugging me once Dean released me. 

“No.” I shook my head. “I need a distraction.” 

I decided to go on a drive alone, ignoring the fact that Xavier had just died. It was how I dealt with Carter and my family, so it didn’t seem much different. Just numb, like I’d forgone emotions entirely. So, yeah, repetitive.

Apart from how people seemed to die around me. 

I got a phone call, seeing that Sam was the caller ID. I picked it up. “Hey, Sammy. What’s up?”

’Look to your right.’ I looked to my right, which had a long abandoned runway on it. There, at the top, was a figure that looked like Dean, tied to a chair yet again. ‘I’ve got him. And I’m gonna ram a car into him, unless you come over here.’

“Are you ever going to leave me alone?” 

‘No, I don’t think I will.’ Just as I was about to floor it, a bullet grazed my head, lodging into my seat. I immediately floored it, wincing at the blood running down my head as I turned the car sharply.

“Did you send that bullet?” 

‘No, I’m in a car.’ 

“This is the worst way to die.” Dean groaned, struggling against his bonds. "Beanie, if you save me, I will personally get you your favourite coffee every day.” 

“Any last words?!” Sam yelled from the car, and Dean thought. 

“You’re a twat!” He yelled back. “That’s right, I used British insults!” 

The car started, headlights on as it revved, driving up towards where Dean was. He looked away, a feeble attempt to brace for impact. Sam determinedly pressed the pedal harder, ready to ram right into Dean-

I drove my car straight into the side of the one Sam was in, glass cracking and flying across my face as dust dirtied my face, the impact knocking the wind out of me and my head against the wheel. The world spun around me as I gasped to get some air, but my head felt heavy. I rested my head on my arms, passing out almost immediately.

Sam stumbled out of the car, the darkness gone from his eyes. He stared at Dean, and then himself, realising that he was barely injured. 

“What happened?” Sam panted, checking himself. 

“You almost killed me!” Dean yelled. “Get me my pocketknife from my jeans and then go get Beanie out of the car. She almost killed herself trying to stop you.” Sam gave him his pocketknife then sprinted over to the Corvette, yanking open the door and picking me up bridal style, turning to Dean. 

“She’s not awake!” He called, and Dean ran over, grabbing a water bottle from my car and taking some water in his hand, flicking it over my face. 

“C’mon, Ivy.” Dean whispered, checking for my heartbeat and breathing. “She’s alive, so that’s good.” 

“We need to get her to the hospital.”

”She’s not got any major injuries.” The doctor explained to Sam and Dean, who were outside the ward. “Just a few cuts and grazes, and her hand took a bit of a sprain. We’ve cleaned and bandages those, and she’s awake now and almost out of shock. You two can see her.” 

They speed-walked into my ward just as I was sitting up, my hand  kept aloft and bandaged. As soon as I saw the boys, I grinned as they sat down and started showering my head with kisses. 

“Thank god you’re ok.” Sam whispered, burying his face into my shoulder. Dean cupped my cheek, rubbing circles with his thumb. 

“I…” Dean paused, “I am never letting you out of my sight again. You almost died. Again.” 

“I told you, I’m only dying by a knife to the jugular.” I joked, sipping some water. “How long have I been out?” 

“A day.” Sam smiled. 

“So, ready for another hunt?” 

“How does she not remember but we do?” 

“I don’t know, Sammy.” Dean smirked. 

“Am I missing something here?” I asked.

They both pulled out a cake, grinning. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze My footsteps on the ground You'll see my face in every place But you can't catch me now Through wading grass, the months will pass You'll feel it all around I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere But you can't catch me now No, you can't catch me now

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[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we could be more | dean winchester | 1

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

IN MY TIME OF DYING

NOW PLAYING: TRAIN WRECK - JAMES ARTHUR

“How did you get this?” The dad asked me, looking frantically between my arm and my face. 

“Calm down.” Sam turned to me, his expression soft. “What’s your name?” 

“Ivonne Rainer.” I answered quickly. 

“Come with me.” We left, walking to a private room. “Where are you from?” He asked, gently taking my arm and inspecting it.

“A lot of places.” I chuckled, then he looked up. 

“This rune is used to bind a witch’s powers to her.” He muttered. “You’re a witch?”

”Sadly.” I quipped, then grimaced. “Not anymore.” 

“Why were your powers taken away?”

”I’ve been using my abilities to undo the Devil’s work.” I explained. “Witches mostly use their powers to encourage it. He sent a servant after me to stop me from doing it forever, and now I don’t know what reverses it.”

”This kind of rune?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Either the death of the demon who cast it or a ‘droplet of love”.” 

“The hell is that?” I scoffed. 

“I don’t know.” 

“I’d say I have better chances of killing the demon.” 

“Probably.” Sam smiled cynically. “A drop of love sounds hard to find. Ivonne, I think that if the Devil restricted you, he won’t hesitate to end your work entirely. Stay with me and Dean, when he wakes up. We’ll protect you.” 

“I can protect myself.” 

“At least help with it.” Sam let go of my arm, folding them. “C’mon, Ivonne.” 

I sighed. “Fine. But once I get my powers back, I’m gone.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” We shook on it, and we both went back into the ward. I looked at his brother in the bed, sighing. 

“That your brother?” I asked, nodding to him.

”Yeah.” Sam smiled wistfully. “He’s-“

”Dean.” I grinned. “I located you two based on CCTV footage, a bit of voodoo and some hacking into federal databases.” 

“That’s impressive and scary.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. 

“Dean would like you a lot.” Sam smiled. “You seem a lot like him.” 

“Don’t opposites attract?” 

“Dean works weird, I’m afraid-“ At that moment, Dean’s heart stopped, and we stared at him in shock before I ran to the door. 

“DOCTOR!” I yelled, and a doctor ran in, spotting the flatline and immediately calling his team, trying whatever they could to bring Dean back. Sam involuntarily gripped my hand, and I let him, stroking his back while he held back tears. I had no connection to Dean, and I didn’t have my powers, but I could feel Sam’s pain. 

I knew how it felt. 

Out of nowhere, Dean’s heart started beating again, making me wonder something. I turned to Sam, thinking. “You know, there’s a chance that Dean’s here.” 

“He is here.” 

“I mean in spirit.” I laughed. “That means that there’s one way to communicate with him.” I reached into my bag, pulling out an Ouija board. 

“There’s no way you could fit that in your bag.” Sam raised an eyebrow. 

“You can take a witch’s powers away, but undoing her charms after that are difficult. I made my bag have infinite storage, so I think I’ve got a gun case in here.” I peered in, “Yep, it’s there.” I set up the Ouija board, chanting under my breath. Then Sam and I put our fingers on the eyelet. 

“Dean, are you in the room?” I asked, and the eyelet moved, spelling yes. I turned to Sam, breathing out. “You need to check if it’s him. It may be a wandering spirit, so ask him a question only you’d know.” 

“What was the score on my LSAT?” Sam asked, and it spelled out 174. 

“That’s impressive.” I grinned, turning to him. “I got 178.” 

“Even more impressive.” Sam replied, then laughed in relief. “It's good to hear from you, man. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean.”

“Dean, what are you doing?” I asked, and something was spelled out. H…U…N…T. “Is there something chasing you?” 

YES.

”What is it?” 

REAP.

”A reaper.” Sam deduced. “It tried to kill him. He’s… um…” 

“Screwed.” I breathed. 

“No. No, no, no.” He started pacing. “There has to be a way. Dad’s know what to do.” 

“You mean the guy who left a while ago? We can try.” We went over to his hospital bed, but it was empty. 

“Dad.” Sam whispered, running a hand through his hair. He turned to me, stammering. “We need his journal.” 

We sat down on a chair beside Dean’s bed, flicking through the book. “There doesn’t seem to be anything on reapers.” 

“Your dad didn’t do his homework.” I sighed. 

“Tell me about it.” Sam turned to me. “D’you have any dad problems?” 

“He was always out and about. I never saw him, my mother was cheating on him almost every day, and my brother…” I shook my head. “At least you and your brother seem close.” 

“We weren’t for a while.” Sam shrugged. “Now we are.” 

“That’s good. I’d give anything to contact my brother again.” I smiled sadly. “Now I don’t know where he is.” 

“That’s rough.” He patted my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” I flipped through the book again. “Yep, nothing. I have a book somewhere in my bag on common spirits. Reapers are one of them, because there’s at least one in every hospital or morgue.” I dug my arm elbow-deep into my bag, yanking out The Devil’s Encyclopaedia. “Here. Reapers are the lowest of the low. They alter human perception to make them see what they want to…” I stopped, feeling a coldness in the room return to warmth. “I think Dean was just here again. And if he’s hunting a reaper…” 

“He knows.” Sam continued. “But we can’t help him.” 

“We can protect him.” I pulled out a bag of salt, lining the edge of the room. I took out a vial of holy water, but then Sam stopped me. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What do you think I’m doing?” 

“You’ve been a great help, Ivy, but Dean and I’s experience with witches hasn’t ended well.” 

“Gee, Sam, I would risk my own survival to curse your brother. C’mon, let me do my thing.” I laughed, drawing a cross on Dean’s forehead then tapping it, and it glowed white before disappearing. I did the same above the doorframe, standing on a chair. I then hopped down, storing the protection materials. “There.” 

“You’re a lifesaver, Ivonne.” Sam quickly hugged me, looking relieved. “I mean it.” 

“It’s the least I can do in return for your protection.” I smiled. “I mean it.” A choking sound appeared from beside us, and we found Dean choking on the tube in his throat, awake, making Sam call for help. The doctors removed it, and examined Dean, coming back to us. 

“Are you the girlfriend of the patient’s brother?” The doctor asked me since Sam had taken a moment. 

“No, sadly.” I coughed, then beckoned Sam over. “What’s the news?” 

“I think the patient should hear it himself.” We went into the room. “I can't explain it. The edema's vanished. The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. You have some kind of angel watching over you.” 

“Thanks, doc.” Dean nodded, giving the doctor the cue to leave. “So you said a Reaper was after me?” 

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. 

“How'd I ditch it?” 

Sam chuckled. “You got me.” Dean was blank. “You really don’t remember anything?” 

“No. Except this pit in my stomach. Sam, something's wrong.” Dean replied. 

“It could be worse if it wasn’t for her.” I looked up from where I was awkwardly shuffling in the back of the room. 

“Uh, hi.” I chuckled, raising a hand. 

“Who are you?” Dean asked bluntly. 

“My name’s Ivonne. I was born in Jersey, but then moved around a lot once I left home.” I introduced, folding my arms. 

“How old are you?”

“26.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Sam, who gave him a look. 

“She’s here cause she needs protecting, Dean.” Sam groaned. 

“She seems perfectly capable of handling herself.” Dean countered. “She seems like a strong, beautiful lady to me.” 

“Because the Devil took her powers away. She was a witch.” Sam explained. “And if the Devil took away her powers, she’s most likely on his hit list. Strength in numbers, right?” 

I looked between the two nervously. “I-I can leave-“ 

“I wouldn’t want you to leave.” Dean grinned, looking me up and down. “Not. At. All.”

“You need to keep it in your jeans.” Sam chastised. 

“I am!” 

A knock sounded at the door. “How you feeling, dude?” The dad, who I found was called John, asked. 

“Fine, I guess. I'm alive.” Dean replied. 

“That's what matters.”

“Where were you last night?” Sam confronted, mad. 

“I had some things to take care of.” John deflected. 

“Well, that’s specific.” 

“C’mon, Sam.” Dean sighed. 

“He has a right to ask.” I cut in. “Your journal gave me the sense that you know how to hunt. Why weren’t you there for your sons?” 

John looked taken aback. “I-“ 

“Did you go after the demon?” Sam frowned. 

“No.” 

“Why don’t I believe you right now?” 

“Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I, I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?” 

“Dad, are you all right?” Sam looked concerned. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired.” John nodded. “Hey, son, would you, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?”

”Sure.” Sam left, leaving John looking sad. 

“What is it?” Dean asked. 

“You know, 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, 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’.” He paused. “I’m sorry.” 

“What?” 

“You shouldn't have had to say that to me, I should have 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. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you.” 

“Is that you talking?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, it's really me.” 

“Why are you saying this stuff?” 

“I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay?” I watched the interaction, feeling awkward. 

“Yeah, dad, you know I will.” Dean frowned. “You're scaring me.” 

“Don’t be scared, Dean.” John whispered something else in his ear, making Dean gape as John left. I walked after him, determined to find something out, but then lost me. Sam came back from getting coffee, and quickly glanced into a room, but then something made him double take and drop the cup, running to the door. 

“HELP!” He screamed, and Dean came running in his hospital gown. John was on the floor, seemingly lifeless. The doctors swarmed the body, and Dean and Sam were trying to get through, but nurses held them back. 

“But that’s our father!” Dean protested, but stepped back anyway. After a while of CPR, a doctor stood it up. 

“I’ll call it. Time of death- 10:41am.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we can be more | dean winchester | 9

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

CROSSROAD BLUES

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :  CROSSROAD BLUES - ROBERT JOHNSON

“Hey, jellybean.” Dad smiled into the camera, sharpening his knife. “This hunt is pretty dangerous, I’ll have to admit. These vamps are beating the hell out of me.” 

“Hey, Mick!” A hunter yelled. “Are you talkin’ to your daughter again?” 

“Oh, come on, Ed, you’d do the same if you had one.” Dad retorted. “It’s a shame that no girl’s ever looked your way, huh?” He turned back toward the camera. “Y’know, I’d give anything to be home with you. I’ve been such a bad father these past few years. I missed your graduation. Your orientation day in Princeton too. You didn’t even go to prom because you wanted to see me come back from a hunt but I didn’t until a few weeks later. I think…” His voice broke off. 

There were happy shouts in the background, but Dad didn’t seem so happy. 

“I think that the last time I’ll ever see you is this picture I keep in my pocket.” He pulled it out, taking a look. “I keep you with me every day. I love you so much, jellybean, but I don’t think I’m comin’ back. I know I promised, I know, but I don’t think I am. I trained you to keep yourself safe. Keep your mother safe. And Lils, and Carter too, because if I don’t come back then I don’t know what sorta things will come after your blood and I know they will, so please, be safe. You’re a Rainer, Ivonne, don’t ever forget that. I love you more than life itself, sweetheart. Don’t come looking for me. I’m sorry.” 

I gasped once I saw the video message, immediately searching for my phone. I dialled my mom frantically, holding the phone to my ear. 

“Please, please…” I muttered, pacing and trying to keep tears from falling. 

‘Honey?’ My mum answered. ‘What’s wrong?’ 

“Mom, Dad’s in trouble. He sent me a message saying that this could be the last he sees me, but I…“

‘Did he tell you where he was?’ 

“No, he just told me not to look-“ 

‘Then don’t. He’s said it for a reason. The term’s almost over, wait for another message and if not, come straight home, ok?’ She cut the call, and I collapsed on my bed, hyperventilating. 

What if I never see him again? 

I can’t do any of this without him.

“So much for our low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database.” Sam sighed, checking the police database and showing us the mugshots of Dean. 

“Dude. It’s like I’m Dillinger or somethin’.” Dean grinned excitedly. 

“Mhmm.” I nodded. “You’re a wanted criminal in the FBI’s database, which is a huge drawback cause we travel everywhere, and you’re rejoicing. But hey, at least they got your good angles.” 

“Well, what do they got on you two?” 

“Nothing on me, cause James managed to clear me of all charges.” 

“You’re lucky your police boy could help out.” 

“Well, I caused no evident law breaking, so they can’t press.” 

“What about Sammy?” 

“I’m sure they haven’t posted it yet.” Sam muttered. 

“What? No accessory, no nothing?” 

“Shut up.” 

“You’re jealous.” Dean laughed. 

“No, I’m not!” Sam protested, giving Dean a look. 

“As if someone would be jealous of being wanted for murder, breaking and entering, escape and grave desecration.” I scoffed. 

“What do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young woman, you?” Dean grinned, so I looked at the case file. 

“Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed.” 

“Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call animal control?” 

“Two days before.”

”And did he actually say ‘black dog’?” 

“Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog.” Sam nodded. “The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive.” 

“Do you think we’re dealing with an actual black dog?” 

“Maybe.” 

“What’s the lore on it?” 

“It's all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but... some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they're big, nasty.” 

“Well, it could be a death omen.” I suggested. “Spectral black dogs never attack without reason. We could be dealing with a Grim sort of thing. Like, you know, Harry Potter.” 

“You have… the Grim.” Dean mimicked, making us all laugh. 

“So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?” Sam asked. We were interviewing his business partner. 

“That's right. Now one more time, this is for...?” 

“A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest.” The man laughed, drawing a weird look from us. “This funny to you?” 

“No, it... it's just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind... well, he gets another tribute.” 

“Right.” Sam nodded. “Any reason why he would do such a thing?” 

“I, I have no clue, I mean he lived a charmed life.” 

“How so?” 

“He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I... and it wasn't always that way, either.” 

“No?” I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms. 

“You wanna know the truth? There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive.”

”What changed?”

”You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing... he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like, the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart...” He trailed off. 

“What?” 

“It's funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent? Why... why just throw it away?”

“So…” Sam drummed on the glove box. “Dean.”

”What about Dean?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

”You two care for each other a lot.”

“That’s natural.” 

“A lot.” 

“What are you implying?”

”That you and my brother could be a… a thing… someday.” 

“Keep dreaming.” I laughed. “Dean and I have a good thing goin’. Plus, he flirts with every girl his age he sets his eyes on.” 

“If you say so.” Sam grinned, nudging me. “In the meantime, you can flirt with James Rhodes. Keep your options open-“ 

“Shut up.” We started giggling, but then Dean came back.

”So?” 

“Secretary's name is Carly. She's twenty three, she, uh, kayaks, and they're real.” Dean grinned. 

“Spare the details of your latest hookup, Dean.” I sighed. “What did you get on the black dogs?” 

“Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There's nineteen calls in all. And, uh,” He pulled off a post-it note from his clipboard, “I don't know what this thing is.” I took it and raised an eyebrow, handing it to Sam. 

“I have no idea what this is.”

“You mean Carly’s MySpace address?” Sam chuckled. 

“Yeah, MySpace, what the hell is that?” Dean frowned. “Is that some dating site or somethin’?” 

We had been round most houses, but they were just cases of barking Pomeranians. Naturally, Deans as starting to get mad. 

“I swear, if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbour’s yard...” He knocked on the next door, and a lady opened it, looking nervous.

”Afternoon, ma’am.” I flashed my badge. “Animal control.” 

“Oh, someone already came yesterday.” She blinked, and we shared a look. 

“Oh, we're just following up.” Sam excused. “We're looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman?” 

“The Doctor, well, she, I don't know exactly when she'll be back, she left two days ago.” 

“Ok. And you are..?” 

“Ms Pearlman’s maid.” She stammered. 

“So where did the Doctor go?” 

“I'm not sure. She just packed and went, she didn't say where. That stray dog, did you find it finally?” 

“Oh, not yet. You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?” I asked, feigning concern.

“Well, no. I never even heard it.” Dean looked at a photo, analysing it. The maid continued nervously, “I was almost starting to think the Doctor was imagining things, but she's not like that, so...” 

“Hey, you know I read she was, uh chief surgeon at the hospital. She's gotta be what, forty two, forty three? That's pretty young for that job.” Dean  probed casually. 

“Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position... ten years ago?” 

“Ten years?” I raised an eyebrow. “An overnight success, too.”

“Yeah, we know a guy like that.” Dean nodded, gesturing to the painting. “And, look, Lloyd’s bar.” 

We pulled up at Lloyd’s bar, and outside there were yellow flowers growing around the door. I pulled out my pocket botany guide, flicking through it. 

“Yellow flowers?” Dean scoffed. “Wanna pick ‘em, Beanie?” 

“Not just any yellow flowers.” I replied, reading the page I’d found. “Yarrow flowers. They’re used in summoning rituals. Someone planted them here.” 

“So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's.” 

“Where there just happens to be a crossroads.” Sam frowned. “You think?” 

“Let’s find out.” We went to the crossroads, taking a shovel and digging in the dead centre. We eventually hit something solid, and we shared a look. “Yahtzee.” I pulled out a box, opening it and checking the contents. 

“Graveyard dirt, black cat bone, all hardcore and unmistakeable methods to summon a demon.” I informed, tapping the side of the vial of graveyard dirt. 

“That’s serious hoodoo.” 

“No, not just to summon one.” I shook my head. “Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, 'cause that always ends good. These people aren’t seeing just spectral black dogs. These are hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls that guard hell’s gates and drag anyone who belongs there in if they’ve sold their soul or belong there.” You can bring people back by summoning demons. Bring anyone back.

‘Yeah, whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting.”  Sam sighed. 

“And that doctor lady?” Dean grimaced. “Wherever she's running? She ain't running fast enough.” 

“So it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads, kind of deal?” 

“Yeah, except that wasn't a legend. I mean, you know his music. You don't know Robert Johnson's songs? Sam, there's, there's occult references all over his lyrics, I mean, Crossroad Blues? Me and the Devil Blues? Hellhound on My Trail?” Dean rolled his eyes when Sam didn’t follow. “The story goes, he died choking on his own blood, he was hallucinating, and muttering about big evil dogs.” 

“And now it’s happening all over again.” 

“We've gotta figure out if anyone else struck any bargains around here.” I resolved, dusting off my hands. 

“Great. So we've gotta clean up these peoples' mess for 'em? I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced 'em to play Let's Make A Deal.” Dean frowned. 

“They’re human. We can’t leave them to die.” 

“Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save 'em?” 

“Dean.” 

“Fine.” He conceded. “Rituals like this, you've got to put your own photo into the mix, right? So this guy probably summoned this thing, let's go and see if anyone inside knows him. If he's still alive.” 

I was preparing for a big gymnastics tournament, stretching and testing my flexibility for the big moment. This could be my one chance to get to the Olympics. 

“Why so nervous, jellybean?” Dad was at the door, holding my bottle of water. 

“If I don’t get this, I don’t get the Olympics.” I sighed, taking the bottle. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, sweetheart.” He patted my shoulder with a smile. “You’re gonna be fine.” 

“How are you so sure?” 

“Because you’re Ivonne Rainer.” He smiled, bending to my height. “You’re the toughest girl I know. You take after your mother. She used to hunt, but after she had you she stopped. But I’ve never seen a lady like her until you grew up. You can load and shoot a gun faster than I can, so flying across that room should be child’s play to you.” He kissed my forehead, clasping our hands together. “So, who are you?” 

“I’m a Rainer.” 

“Who are you?!” 

“I’m a Rainer!” 

“I can’t hear you, solider! WHO ARE YOU?!” 

“I’M A RAINER!” He hugged me tight, patting my back. 

“Knock ‘em dead, tiger.”

We walked up the stairs in an apartment building, looking at a picture. 

“What's this guy's name again?” Sam asked. 

“George Darrow.” Dean informed. “Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd's. Though this house probably ain't up next on MTV Cribs, is it?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded. “So whatever kind of deal he made-“

”Wasn't for cash. Oh, who knows. Maybe this place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis.” We gave him a look, “No, I'm just saying, this guy's got one epic bill come due. Hope at least he asked for something fun.” 

“Look at that.” Sam pointed at a black powder outside Darrow’s door, and I recognised it from somewhere. I touched it, staring at it. 

“Is that pepper?” Dean scoffed. 

“I… don’t know.” I frowned. 

“Who the hell are you?” Darrow grumbled, the door swinging open. 

“George Darrow?” Dean asked. 

“I’m not buyin’ anything.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, looks like you went for the wrong shaker there. Usually when you want to keep something evil out you go for the salt.” 

“I don't know what you talkin' about.” 

“I’m talkin’ about this.” Dean held up a picture of a hellhound. “You seen this yet?” 

“Look. We want to help. Please. Just five minutes.” Sam begged. He let us in wordlessly, and we stepped in, cautious not to disturb the black line. “So what is that stuff out front?” I blew on the black dust, and then I got it.

“Goofer dust.” Darrow and I said at the same time, but Sam and Dean stared at us.

“What, you boys think you know somethin' about somethin' but not Goofer dust? Girl gets it.” Darrow lectured gruffly, tossing Dean a brown sack.

“Well, we know a little about a lot of things. Just enough to make us dangerous.” Dean replied casually. 

“What is it?” Sam asked. 

“Hoodoo. My grandma taught me. Keeps out demons.“ He waddled over to a chair. “Four minutes left.” 

“Mr. Darrow. We know you're in trouble.” 

“Trouble that you got yourself into.” Dean sniffed. 

“But there’s still hope, alright? There's gotta be something we can do.” 

“Listen. I get that you boys want to help.” Darrow sighed. “But sometimes a person makes their bed, they've just got to lie down in it. I'm the one called that demon in the first place.” 

“What d’you do it for?” I asked, gaining a stunned look. “You heard me. Why did you do it?”

“I was weak. I mean, who don't want to be great? Who don't want their life to mean something? I just... I just never thought about the price.” 

“Was it worth it?” 

“Hell no. 'Course, I asked for talent. Shoulda gone for fame. I'm still broke, and lonely. Just now I got this pile of paintings don't nobody want. But that wasn't the worst.” 

“Go on.” 

“Demon didn't leave. I never counted on that. After our deal was done the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week. Just chattin'. Makin' more deals. I tried to warn folks, but, I mean who's goin' to listen to an old drunk?” 

“George, how many other people are there? Like you?”

“Uh, the architect, that doctor lady — I kept up with them, they've been in the papers. Least they got famous.” 

“Think, George.” 

“One more. Uh, nice guy too. Hudson. Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. We done for.” 

“No.” Sam refused, “No, there’s gotta be a way.” 

“You don't get it! I don't want a way!” 

“Look-“

”I called that thing! I brought it on myself. I brought it on them. I'm going to hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold them off 'till then. Buy a little time. Okay, boys. Time you went, go help somebody that wants help.” 

“We can’t just-“ 

“Get out! I have work to do.” 

“You don't really want to die.” 

“I don’t?” He scoffed. “I’m… I’m tired.” 

“C’mon, Sam.” I gently took Sam away. “Thank you for your time, sir. It was good meeting you.”

“You too, girlie.”

We knocked on Evan Hudson’s door, and he opened it a small bit. 

“Yes?” He whispered. 

“Evan Hudson?” Sam asked. 

“You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? Would have been about ten years ago.” Dean added, but then Evan slammed the door. “Come on, we're not demons!” I focused, forgetting about the rune etched into my arm, and my eyes momentarily glowed blue, but then I felt a searing pain in my arm and stopped, falling back against the wall. “Beanie! What happened?” 

“I’m fine, I just tried to use my…” I gestured to my forearm and he understood. “Got any bright ideas?” Dean reared up, then went to kick the door open, but I opened it just by pushing the handle down. Dean collapsed in a crumpled heap, and Sam helped him up with a smirk. “Evan?” 

“Don’t hurt me!” Evan whimpered, jumping out from behind a bookshelf. 

“You know, if we were demons, that’s a terrible thing to do.” I sighed. “We’re here to help, not hurt you. We know about that deal with the demon 10 years ago.” 

“What? How?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam said. “All that matters is how we stop it.” 

“How do I know you're not lying?” 

Dean shrugged. “Well, you don't, but you're kinda running low on options there, buddy-boy.” 

Evan started pacing. “Can you stop it?” 

“Don’t know.” Sam frowned. “But we’ll try.” 

“I don't want to die.” 

“Of course you don’t, not now.” Dean smirked. 

“Dean, stop.” Sam hissed. 

“What did you ask for, Evan?” I asked intently, stepping forward. 

“My wife.” Evan gulped. 

Dean scoffed. “Right. Gettin' the girl. Well, that's worth a trip to hell for.” 

Sam glared at Dean, who, I’ll admit, was getting out of hand. “Stop, Dean.”

”No. He's right, I made the deal.” Evan nodded. “Nobody twisted my arm, that... woman, or whatever she was, at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but... I don't know how to— I was desperate.” 

“Desperate?” 

“Julie was dying.” 

“You did it to save her?” Dean frowned. 

“She had cancer, they'd stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice, they kept saying... a matter of days. So yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot.” 

“Did you ever think about her?” 

“I did this for her.” 

“You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what? She's going to have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel-“ 

“Will all of you just shut up already?!” I burst out, silencing everyone. “We’ll figure something out. Evan, keep a close watch, grab anything pure iron in your house and have it as a weapon. Boys, we need to figure this out.” Evan rushed to find something iron, while Sam, Dean and I talked. “Dean, are you ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” Dean shrugged. “Hey, I got an idea.”

”What is it?” 

“You throw George's hoodoo at that Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon.” 

“Summon-“ Sam scoffed, “are you nuts?!” 

“Maybe a little. But Beanie and I can trap it. We can exorcise it, and can buy us time to figure out something more permanent.” 

“But how much time are we talkin’?” I asked, folding my arms. 

“I don't know, a while. I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from hell and into the sunshine.” 

“No. No way.” Sam refused. 

“You’re not allowed to say no, Sammy, unless you’ve got a better plan.” 

“Dean, you can forget it, all right? I'm not letting you summon that demon.” 

“Why?” Dean challenged. “Why not?” 

“Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You know, you've been on edge ever since we found that crossroads, Dean, and I think I know why.” 

“We don’t have time for this-“ 

“Dad. You think maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh? Hell. I've been thinking it. I'm sure you've been thinking it too.” 

“It fits, doesn't it? I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow-eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul-”

“That’s enough.” I interrupted through gritted teeth. “Neither of your heads are in the right place at the right time and it’s frustrating because you’re meant to be here and now, not stuck in a decision that John made. Dean, you feel guilty about it and I get that feeling more than anything, and Sam, you want to keep everyone as safe as possible, but, right now, we need both of these things,” I tapped my head, “to be clear so we can actually pull off a plan. Sam, take the goofer dust and make a circle around you and Evan. Once it breaks, book it. Dean, you and I are going to summon the demon. Once we get it in the Solomon trap, I’ll exorcise it. We good with that?” 

“Yeah.” They nodded meekly. 

“I think I hear it! It's outside!” Evan called from inside. 

I turned to them both, taking out my book of exorcisms. “Keep Evan alive, Sam.” 

Sam frowned. “Ivy-“ 

“Just do it!” 

Dean placed his ID in George’s hoodoo box, burying it in the centre of the crossroad. I was in hiding, having already painted the Solomon trap. 

“So. What brings a guy like you to a place like this?” The crossroads demon was behind Dean as he stood up. He looked her up and down, and I studied the Latin I needed to read. “You called me?”

”I’m just glad it worked.” Dean smirked. 

“First time?” 

“You could say that.” 

“Oh, come on now. Don't sell yourself short. I know all about you, Dean Winchester.” She started circling him, almost like a panther prowling around its prey. The irony was satisfying, really. 

“So, you know about me.” 

“I get the newsletter.” 

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What have you heard?” I know you’re stalling, but, really, Dean?

”Well, I heard you were handsome, but ... you're just edible.” I gagged from where I was hiding. Who says that? “What can I do for you, Dean?” 

“Maybe we should do this in my car. Nice and private.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

“So I was hoping we could strike a deal.” Dean offered as they strolled to his car,

“That’s what I do.” The demon smirked. 

“I want Evan Hudson released from his contract.” 

“Oh, sorry, darling. That’s non-negotiable.” 

“I'll make it worth your while.” 

“Really? What are you offering?” 

“Me.” WHAT THE HELL-

“I see. Sacrificing your life for someone else’s. Like father, like son, I guess. “You did know about your dad's deal, right?” She chuckled darkly, giving him innocent eyes, but I knew they weren’t as advertised. “His life for yours? Oh, I didn't make the deal myself, but... boy, I wish I had.” 

Dean opened the car door, teeth gritted. “After you.” 

“Such a gentleman.” She was about to get in, but stopped upon seeing an inscription poke out from under the car. “A Devil's Trap? You've got to be kidding me. You stupid, stupid... I should rip you limb from limb.“ 

“Take your best shot.” Dean retorted almost pleadingly, backing towards the actual trap. 

“No. I don't think so. I'm not going to put you out of your misery.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because your misery's the whole point. It's too much fun to watch. Knowing how your daddy died for you, how he sold his soul. I mean, that's gotta hurt. It's all you ever think about. You wake up and your first thought is, ‘I can't do this anymore.’” Keep with it, Dean. “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 have given you what you need.” 

“What-“ 

“You’re not the only one who feels this way. Imagine Ivy Rainer, forced to live the life her dear brother was meant to. You can make a deal on behalf of her, not Evan Hudson. Now those are terms I can negotiate. Your Beanie can be happy, Dean. Have her family back, and she can be whole.” I gasped silently, glancing towards where the box was buried.

“What do I need?” 

“Your father. I could have brought him back. Your loss. Seeya, Dean. I wish you a nice long life.” She started to walk away-

“Hold on.” She stopped, smiling. 

“You're lucky I've got a soft spot for lost puppies and long faces. I just can't leave you like this. Besides. You didn't call me here to bargain for Evan. Not really.” 

“Can you bring him back? My dad?” He asked. 

“Of course I can. Just as he was. Your dad would live a long and natural life, like he was meant to. That's a promise.” 

“What about me?” 

“I could give you ten years. Ten long good years with him. That's a lifetime. The family can be together again. John, Dean, Sammy. The Winchester boys all reunited.“ She walked towards him. “Look. Your dad's supposed to be alive. You're supposed to be dead. So we'll just set things straight, put things back in their natural order. And you get ten extra years on top. That's a bonus.” 

Dean turned and walked further away. “You think you could...” He turned to face her, “throw in a set of steak knives?”

She advanced towards him, ”You know, this smart-ass self-defense mechanism of yours...” She stopped, noticing that she was in a Solomon trap. “Dean!” 

“Now you’re trapped.” Dean grinned. “That’s gotta hurt. Beanie, you can come out now.” I emerged, holding my book. 

“Let me out. Now.” She hissed.

“In a bit. Thanks for the consideration, but if I wanted to make the deal, I’d have done it.” I smirk. “Alright, here’s our terms, because before you walk free, we need to make a deal. Evan walks free, and you call off your hellhounds. Do that, and you walk too.” 

“I can't break a binding contract.” 

“There’s a difference between ‘can’t’ and ‘don’t want to’; it’ll do you a favour to learn it.” I retorted. “Last chance. Evan and his wife get to live to a ripe old age. Going, going...” 

“Let’s talk about this-“ 

“Ok, gone.” I pulled out a rosary, and she glanced at it. 

“What-what are you doing?” 

“You’re just going on a trip.” Dean grinned. “Way down south.” 

“Forget Evan. Think of your dad. Both of your dads-“ 

“Regna terrae,” I read, pacing around her. “cantate deo…” I continued reading, watching her shiver and cry out in pain. “in potentis magnife!” 

“Release!” She cried, and Dean and I shared a triumphant look. But then she cupped the nape of Dean’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. I looked away, shutting my book with a snap as he pulled away. 

“What was that for?” Dean spat. 

“Sealing the deal.” 

“I usually like to be warned before I’m violated with demon lips.” 

“Evan Hudson is free. He and his wife will live long lives.” 

“How do we know you’re not lying?” 

“My word is my bond.” 

“Oh, really?” I handed Dean the Latin book and the rosary.

“It is when I make a deal. It's the rules. You got what you wanted. Now let me go.” Dean fiddled with the rosary, contemplating it. “You're gonna double-cross me? Funny how I'm the trustworthy one.” She scoffed. “You know, you renege? Send me to hell? Sooner or later I'm gonna climb out, and skinning Evan Hudson will be the first thing that I do.” Dean stashed the rosary, breaking the circle. She stepped out, giving us a look. “I gotta tell you. You would have never pulled that stunt if you knew.” 

“Knew what?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“About your dads. You should have made that deal. See, people talk about hell, but it's just a word. It doesn't even come close to describing the real thing-“

“Shut your mouth.” 

“If you could see your poor daddy? Hear the sounds he makes 'cause he can't even scream?” She sneered to Dean. 

He advanced on her. “How about I send you back there?” He growled. She screamed, ichor pouring out of her mouth and flying into the distance. The lady fell, and we caught her, but she looked terrified. 

“What... how did I get here?” 

“You take care of her.” I sighed. “I’ll bury the box where no one will find it.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” He nodded, and started to help the girl away. I looked at the box, digging it up and pocketing Dean’s ID. Then I took out my own, putting it in the box and burying it in the centre of the crossroads. 

“You called?” I turned, seeing a male crossroads demon this time, wearing a suit. He had brown hair and clever blue eyes, and he walked up to me. “Oh, I know you. Ivonne Rainer. You’re a celebrity back where I come from.” 

“Glad to know.” I retorted. “I want to get back to Sam and Dean before they get suspicious, so let’s get this over with.” 

“Damn, you’re more of a sexy woman than you were put out to be.” He smirked, looking me up and down. “If I was human, well, I’d have asked you out. Anyway, what can I do for you?” 

“Bring my father back to life. Bottom line. No reviving his corpse, actual, healed, human.” 

“I can do that.” He nodded. “Really simple.” 

“Good. How many years do you want from me, then?” 

“No years.” He glanced down at my neck. “I want that necklace.” 

“Why?” 

“You don’t need the burden of how many years you have left, you have enough of a weight on your back already.” I thought about it. “Necklace or no necklace?” 

I took it off and gave it to him, sighing. “Ok, now kiss me, but make it short and sweet.” 

“That takes the fun out of it, but ok.” He kissed me for a millisecond, then winked. “It was fun doing business with you.” He then disappeared, and I walked away, confused. 

My necklace?

I had made dinner for the boys, who were eagerly eating it with cups of cocoa by their plates. I sipped one myself, munching on the food. 

“This is the best pasta I’ve ever had, Beanie, dear God.” Dean praised through a mouthful of food. “This is heavenly.” 

“This is amazing, Ivy.” Sam grinned, sipping his cocoa. Then the doorbell rang, and I stood up, going over to the door while preparing to reach my gun from behind my back, tucked in a holster above the waistband of my shorts. I opened the door, and my heart almost dropped out of my chest. 

“Jellybean?” My dad stood there, ruffled hair and all, looking just like the last video he sent me eight years ago. He cupped my cheeks, looking at me with tears in his eyes. His index touched the gap between my eyebrow, complete with a scar in it. “That’s your scar. And your freckles. Yeah, it’s you. It’s really you. But you’re all grown up…” He laughed, wiping a tear off my cheek. 

“Dad…” I whispered, throwing my arms around his torso. “You’re here, you’re really here.” He hugged me tightly, smoothing down my hair. Sam and Dean came into the hallway, staring at Dad like they’d seen a ghost. I detached myself, hurriedly drying my tears.

”Who’re these two, jellybean?” Dad asked, looking confused. 

“O-Oh, uh… Mr R-Rainer.” Dean stammered. “We didn’t expect to see you here. At all.” 

“Come in, sir, make yourself at home.” Sam gulped, giving me a look. “Ivy, we need to talk.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

“That’s a story for another day. For now, all I can say is that it’s my fault.”

Ivy’s Flaw #1 - She blames herself for the death of her family.

If you find anything I can add to this list, I’d appreciate it if you comment below! I’m doing this to help people understand Ivy and make her less one-note, if you get what I mean? Enjoy!

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

SPN MASTERLIST

Not taking reqs for Supernatural currently cause I’m writing a series for y’all to enjoy!

we could be more | dean winchester (COMPLETED)

“And promise me… that you won’t blame yourself.”

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | FINALE

IVY’S FLAWS | 1

𝖕𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖑𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖕 | 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗

Summary: “She’s like you’ve been pistolwhipped.” He bit his lip angrily. “Hits you right in the head and makes it spin. I used to hate it. But now? I’ve turned out like every other guy; had one hit of her and… I’m addicted. So yeah, pretty much.”

PLAYLIST | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | FINALE | Epilogue

𝙳𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙾𝚄𝚂 | 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁

Summary: Ivonne Rainer hadn’t met Dean Winchester in 2006 after he was hit by a car. No, this time, this universe, they met in 2010, when the whole Apocalypse deal started and Dean was made leader of one of the only remaining survival camps in America. Little did he know, one random raid would change everything.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎!𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝟷

Summary: Ivonne Rainer hadn’t met Dean Winchester in 2006 after he was hit by a car. No, this time, this universe, they met in 2010, when the whole Apocalypse deal started and Dean was made leader of one of the only remaining survival camps in America. Little did he know, one random raid would change everything.

A/N - I’m writing this in tandem with the main series, so by the time we get to this point, you’ve got a gist of what’s going on :)

MASTERLIST

SURVIVAL

Dean had been having what was a more than rough day. He’d lost four soldiers in the past week to the Crotes, and he had no Sammy to turn to. No Bobby either, and it killed him. His hand struck the table, a curse leaving his mouth as he did so, bent over and wondering where to hit next.

It had barely been a year since Sam had agreed to Lucifer, saying the big ‘yes’ when he realised that his brother was no longer gonna be there for him. Since then, things were spiralling. Lucifer won. The only immune people were dead and they all turned out as psychos, if you don’t count that Andy kid who didn’t deserve to go out the way he did.

None of them did.

“Damn it.” His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, trying to make heads or tails until he spotted a place they hadn’t covered yet that could be promising. He picked up a marker, circling it haphazardly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Hey, D’Marco!” He yelled out, and one of his men poked his head through.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Rally the squad. We’re hitting Jersey City.”

I jumped over the hood of a car, taking out my machete and swinging as it caught a Croat by the neck, its head thudding to the floor. My eyes glowed red, a metal pole flying up and jabbing straight through the skull of another while I elbowed a third in the neck, going in and shooting point blank.

“God, I hate it here.” I growled, then I got clawed in the arm by one, familiar pain stinging my arm as I shot the assailant in the eye. I’d been fighting my way through this for close to a year, and I’d simply needed to raid the convenience for supplies and I got myself in this blasted mess. “This sucks ass.” I quickly disarmed an approaching Croat with a glow of my eyes and flick of my hand, taking its head and snapping its neck, an animalistic whine, almost like an injured dog, leaving it’s mouth before it flopped like a ragdoll onto the floor, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s a goddamn wasteland out here!” I heard someone yell, followed by rapid gunfire and yells of something that could be pain or stress. I got down before realising it wasn’t aimed at me, so I got back out, immediately pounced on by a Croat that I quickly put down by shooting it. I got up, replacing the clip. I needed to get back to my base and fast, otherwise whoever these guys were could be raiders.

Raiders were asses. They took what they wanted and didn’t care whose lives got lost. It sickened me. I growled under my breath, moving behind a building as I spotted the license plate of a Jeep.

“These are dead Croats, boss. Every last one of them.” A voice called out, followed by footsteps that were made more monstrous by the sound of crunching gravel. “Somebody was out here, killing ‘em.”

“Someone that good? C’mon Joey, be realistic. It has to be another team.” The group chuckled at the joke made by another member of their team, and I frowned in annoyance. I’m sorry, do they see anyone else out here? Actually, they could only see me out here, so it was a given. I peered around the corner, and saw that all of them had their backs to me. I crept up, careful not to crunch on the gravel until I reached the guy at the back, instantly hooking my arm around his neck and yanking him towards me, pressing the muzzle of my gun to his temple.

“Don’t move.” I warned, getting their attention. They spun around with weapons up, but the moment that they saw me with a gun to one of their own, they faltered slightly. “Tell me, who are you? Raiders? Those ragtag asses who think that this is a good thing? Speak up, one of you, now!”

“We’re survivors.” One of them spoke up, his voice gravelly. He looked rougher than the rest of them, his dirty blonde hair up on end in the face of danger and his green eyes stern. “Now let my man go, or I swear to God-”

“You’ll what, tough guy?” I scoffed. “You’ll what?”

“You’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

“Try me.” I growled, pressing the muzzle tighter to my captive’s head. “I dare you.”

“Pretty thing’s got lip on her.” One man scoffed, but one glare from me shut him up.

“Pretty little thing’s got a gun and one of your men, so better keep your mouth shut.”

“Who even are you?” The gravel-voice dude spoke up, a frown creasing his forehead. I looked him in the eye, my gaze steely.

“None of your damn business.” I replied aggressively, my finger tightening on the trigger.“Who’s askin’?”

“Dean Winchester, now let my soldier go, damnit!” I put the gun down, releasing his teammate as I decided that these guys could be ok. Then his teammate spotted the claw cut on my arm, and all hell broke loose.

“SHE’S INFECTED!” He yelled, and as all of them raised their guns to shoot me, I held out my hands in surrender, panic striking me for a moment.

“WOAH, HOLD ON, I’M IMMUNE!” I shouted, panting heavily. “I’M IMMUNE, OK?! I’m… clean.”

“You’d need to be some psychic freak in order to be immune.” Dean Winchester frowned, stepping forward and raising his gun, pointing it at me. “What kind are you? Actually, I shouldn’t even be asking that, cause all the psychic jackasses turned out to be whacked out of their gourds. What says you ain’t?”

“This entire graveyard is my doin’.” I reasoned, gesturing to the Croat’s bodies. “All me. I don’t know how I got my powers and why, but I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure and it’s that it’s kept me alive out here.” I paused to chuckle nervously. “Look, restrain me if you have the stuff to, but there’s no way in hell I’m stayin’ out here.” They took a moment to think, then Winchester pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his utility belt. My eyebrows twitched, a small smirk on my face as he did so. “Damn, you have them on you, you kinky son of a-”

“Put them on.” He ordered while handing them over, his gun pointing to the cuffs then back to my face. I scoffed, laughing a bit as I clasped it over one wrist.

“Chivalry is dead, I see.” I snapped it over the other wrist, then held my bound wrists up for the other men. “Mysterious girl, bound so she can’t hurt you guys. What a relief. Now, uh, are we gonna book it or what?” I was promptly taken by the arm by Winchester, but I snatched my arm out of his grip with a grimace. “I can do it myself, we have no need for the manhandling type of chivalry.” I stepped up onto the Jeep, flopping down onto a seat as the rest of them got in. Winchester sat down in front of me, gun trained on me by chance I made a move. “Chill, Manchurian Candidate, I’m not gonna bust the spirit of Chuck Norris out and start kicking your ass on a moving car while handcuffed, I’m not stupid.”

He just stared at me.

“Alright, we’re gonna keep doin’ this until you give me a name, you hear me?” Winchester growled, and I shrugged, leaning back against my chair.

“And I think we’ll be here a while. Screw. You.” I retorted, obviously aggravating him as he ran a hand through his hair, glaring back at me.

“I told you my name, why won’t you tell me yours?!”

“I can’t trust you!”

“I saved your ass!”

“Oh, hell no, I saved my ass.” I scoffed. “Like I have been since this thing started. You’d have blown my head off otherwise.” He opened his mouth to contradict, but I shot him a look. “Don’t lie to me, I know what people look like when they’re on the verge of killin’ someone. How do I know? I see that goddamn face every day, sometimes in the mirror. M’not that easy to fool, Winchester.” I chuckled cynically, shaking my head. “Idjit.”

The look on his face changed, and he picked up his gun and held it to my forehead. “Where did you get that?!”

“The hell is wrong with you-”

He grabbed my face with one hand, forcing it up roughly. “WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT?!”

“My uncle used to say it, goddamn it!” I snapped. “I don’t know where he is, but we were separated in Sioux Falls.”

“Bobby.” Winchester whispered, and quickly let go of my chin, swallowing and looking away. “You’re Ivonne Rainer.”

“Not even gonna apologise?” I scoffed. “Well, I figured you wouldn’t.”

“He talked about you. Bobby.” He scanned me for a moment with something close to bitterness. “My dad did too. John Winchester. Came home one day when I was fifteen talking about the daughter of his hunting partner Michael Rainer, who’d showed up on a vamp hunt to help exterminate a nest in Louisiana. Bobby said you were one of the best hunters he’d known. That you?”

“Sounds like me.” I nodded. “John Winchester, yeah, I remember him. Real pompous ass.”

“Watch what comes out of that mouth of yours.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“At this point, you’re askin’ to be slapped.”

“But you won’t.” I smirked, obviously provoking him further. He got up close in my face, teeth gritted.

“I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your brain, you hear me? You’re just one more arrogant dumbass, you don’t mean anything to me. Besides, how’re you planning to fight back? You ain’t in no state to fight, not cuffed, so cut the attitude.”

“Might want to rethink that last statement.” I held up my hands, showing that I was free as the cuffs dropped from my wrists. He stared at the fallen handcuffs, shocked as I sharply pushed him back, standing up and rubbing the chafed skin where the cuffs once were. “What, think I can’t handle myself?” I tilted my head, smirking a bit. Then my gaze went to his gun, and my eyes glowed blue, the clip falling out as I flicked my hand down and zooming into my hand. Winchester stared at me again, his eyes flicking back to his gun occasionally as he tried to process what I’d just done. “Look, man, I ain’t no psycho. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have, no questions asked.”

“You spared me?” He scoffed, looking disbelieving.

“Bet your ass I did.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Then don’t.” I shrugged, looking him in the eye. “Cause I don’t give a damn whether you do or not. I care about survivin’. Actually livin’. And me being honest, I’m one of the last people left on earth who can actually protect all of you.”

“I just need you to stay out of my goddamn way.” He growled, fists clenched.

“Then… fine.” I raised my hands in mock surrender as I started retreating to the flap. “Like I said, don’t give a damn.” I dropped the clip of his gun, leaving.

Dean stared the spot where I just was, his teeth gritted before he slammed the table, yelling out.

“DAMN IT!”

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we could be more | dean winchester | finale

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE: PART TWO

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DARKSIDE - NEONI 

“Mini-“ 

“I don’t want to hear it.” I whispered, staring out into the unknown from the front porch of the house we’d taken rest in. “I just don’t.”

Bobby sighed. “You can’t blame yourself for Sam.” 

“I can. I was there. I could’ve killed Jake seconds before it happened had I just let go for a second like I did with Ava. And now? Sam’s dead.”

”You’re deranged, mini. You’ve done the best you can and considering the circumstances, you did a damn good job of it.” 

“Everyone’s dead except that kid Jake who deserves to be ripped limb by limb.” I growled, standing up. “I know I’m gonna see him again. And when I do? Hell, I’m gonna kill him. And I’ll make sure he regrets living before he goes into the fire.” 

“Hey!” He frowned. “Don’t lose yourself in this.” 

“I lost myself in hell, Bobby, I’m long gone.” I seethed. “Every gash, the torture, the watching others being tortured- it eats away at you. Tears you a new one. A worse one, and I loathe how I turned out. I can’t look at my family the same after learning what kind of a man I was born from. What my sister became- heck, what my brother could’ve been. It’s pure pain. Sam was… an out. An amazing, kind, caring out. A way to think about what relationship I could have had with my siblings if they were alive. Now Sam’s dead. I’ve lost that too. That means I’ve lost my fight.” 

“I know you must be feeling helpless.” Bobby appeased, giving me a sympathetic look. “Feel it, feel it all if you can’t help it, but Dean in there? He needs you more than ever.” He started to walk off, but I held his shoulder. 

“Where’re you going?” 

“Dean doesn’t need me anymore. He told me to leave, but you know where I’ll be.” 

“C’mere.” I hugged him tightly, and he allowed me to, thumping my back. 

“You’re a strong kid, mini. It’s not your fault your dad was a coward.” 

“It never will be.” I smiled, then watch him leave. I walked into the house, finding Dean at Sam’s bed. 

“Don’t tell me to bury him.” Dean snapped, his voice breaking. “Don’t tell me to torch him either.”

“I won’t.” I shrugged, sitting down beside him. 

“Then? It was bad enough losing you at first, now Sammy? What are they gonna do, gank Bobby next?” 

“The kid won’t, but Yellow Eyes might.” 

“What d’you mean?” 

“He came to me.” I muttered. “Told me that this was a survival of the fittest deal. Then he said I wasn’t in it.” 

“Son of a… why weren’t you?” 

“He said that I’d rip each and every one of them apart if I wanted to. And god, I wish I’d ripped Jake limb from limb if I’d gotten the chance.” 

“Is that really Ivy talking?” He stood up, and so did I, holding my head. 

“It’s 100% me, Dean. I, cold blooded, shot Ava. I didn’t care about Lily and I was about to deliver a finishing blow to Jake with a metal pole but somehow I decided against it. Hell changed me. I don’t know what happened in there, but it changed me. Sam’s dead, I know, and all that’s replaying in my head is how Carter died and how I could’ve stopped that too but I was too damn weak to, and now Sam took a blow because of pure fate. Don’t let all this change you. Don’t do anything stupid, Dean, please just don’t.” 

“I won’t.” He agreed, and then he hugged me, detaching and leaning his forehead on mine, cupping my cheeks. “I won’t.” 

I walked in to find Dean prepping to go somewhere, and… Sam. 

Sam.

Alive. 

“Where we going, boys?” I asked, giving Dean a look. I know what you’ve done. 

“Bobby’s.” Sam smiled. 

“It’s great to have you up and about, Sam.” 

“Great to be up and about.” 

“To the Impala, then.” We went to the car, getting in and driving down to Bobby’s in silence. We went to the door, and Bobby opened it, his eyes widening a bit when he saw Sam. 

“Hey, Bobby.” Sam grinned.

“Sam. It's good to... see you up and around.” 

“Yeah ... thanks for patching me up.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Bobby then turned to me, patting me on the shoulder. “James knows you’re alive, but…” 

“I know.” I nodded. 

“Do what you’ve gotta do.” I took out my phone, dialling James. He picked up immediately on the other line, and I sighed. 

‘Ivy?’ 

“Yeah, it’s me.” 

‘You’re alive. Bobby was right. I-I thought that you…’ 

“I’m alive, yeah. My dad made a deal with a demon to save me.” I then bit my lip. “But now I’m involved in something big. End of the world big, and you need to be safe.” Bobby handed me a map of omens, and I spotted Southern Wyoming as a safe place. “Get to Southern Wyoming. Hide, take as much salt, holy water, iron, the works, as you can. Just get to safety.”

I could hear a sigh on another line. ‘We can’t see each other anymore, can we?’ 

“No, we can’t. At least, not until all this is over, which will take a hell of a long time.” 

‘I get it. At least I’ll know that my ex-girlfriend helped stop an apocalypse.’ 

“Stew in that, Lieutenant.” 

‘Gladly.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ll miss you, Ivonne Rainer.’ 

“As will I, James Rhodes.” I smiled. “Bye.”

’Bye.’ I then turned to Bobby. 

“What am I looking at?” 

“Omens are popping up everywhere.” He grimaced. “Everywhere but Southern Wyoming. It’s like demons are surrounding it or something. I need you and Sam to find out why while I chat with Dean.” 

“You better, before I give him an early ticket.” I gritted my teeth, then nodded. “I’ll do it. Figure something out.” 

I was mapping things out when Ellen came in with Dean and Bobby, and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Ellen.” I grinned, hugging her, and she returned it, trembling. “I’m glad you’re ok.” 

“I’m glad you’re alive.” She retorted. “I’m sorry about Mick.”

”He was better off dead.” I huffed before pulling up a chair. Ellen sat down, and Bobby poured her a shot of holy water. 

“Bobby, is this really necessary?” 

“Just holy water.” Bobby shrugged. “Shouldn’t hurt.” 

She swallowed the water, giving Bobby a look. “Whiskey now, if you don't mind.” 

I passed her a shot of whiskey, and Dean sat down, leaning forward. “Ellen, what happened?” 

“I wasn't supposed to get out. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else. But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck.” She sipped the whiskey with a scoff. “Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice. He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes.” 

“I’m sorry, Ellen.” Sam grimaced. 

“A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live.” She scoffed again. “Lucky me.” 

“Ellen, you mentioned a safe.” Bobby frowned. 

“Secret safe in the basement.” 

“Demons get what’s in it?” 

“No.” She put down a map, which had Xs on it. I picked it up, studied it for a second and then took a book out of my satchel, turning the pages. 

“Friggin’ hell.” I muttered, drawing a line connecting the Xs. 

“What?” Dean asked. 

“Each of these X's is an abandoned frontier church— all mid-19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt.” 

“Samuel Colt? Demon killing, gun making Samuel Colt?” 

“Yep. And from church to church, he built underground, hidden railway tracks, connecting every dot until…” I grinned, “he made a 100 mile Devil’s Trap.” 

“Beanie, you genius.”

”I've never heard of anything that massive.” Ellen breathed. 

“No one has.” Bobby shrugged. 

“And after all these years none of the lines are broken?” Dean asked. “I mean, it still works?”

”Looks like it.” I nodded. “Demon omens are circling this place. They’re trying to get in, but can’t.” 

“Why’re they trying to get in?” Ellen frowned. 

“Bang in the middle of this place, there’s an old, abandoned cowboy cemetery.” I pointed to it on the map, then looked up grimly. “I don’t think Colt was trying to keep anything out. I think he was trying to keep something in.” 

“Well, that’s comforting.” 

“Could they get in?” Dean asked. 

“No.” I shook my head. “They’d need something as powerful as an A-bomb, H-bomb, heck, even the Tsar Bomba could work.” 

“The Tsar What-A?” 

“Nuclear bomb made by the Soviets. Still the most powerful nuclear weapon to exist. Only something roughly like that could rip this apart. Unless you make someone who’s not a demon cross the line.” 

Then it hit me. 

“Jake.”

“Howdy, Jake.” Sam seethed, all of us surrounding him as he approached the crypt. Jake looked stunned, and I knew why. 

“Wait... you were dead. I killed you.” He stammered, but Sam chuckled. 

“Yeah? Well next time, finish the job.” 

“I did! I cut clean through your spinal cord, man. You can’t be alive, you just can’t.” 

“Okay, just take it real easy there, son.” Bobby warned. 

“And if I don’t?” 

“Wait and see.” Sam smirked. 

“What, you a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do— kill me?” 

“It’s a thought.” 

“You had your chance. You couldn't.” 

“Alright, then.” Sam nodded tauntingly. “It isn’t my mojo. But it’s hers.” He inclined his head towards me, and Jake spun around, seeing my eyes glow blue. 

“You’re not gonna lift anything.” He smirked, then turned to Ellen. “Hey lady, do me a favour. Put that gun to your head.” Ellen shakily agreed, putting the gun to her head. “See, that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn.” 

“Let her go.” I demanded. 

“Kill him.” Ellen whispered. 

“You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off.” Jake taunted. “Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart.” Everyone but me and Ellen put their guns down, me because Jake most likely didn’t know I had one. “Okay. Thank you.” He turned around, pulling out the Colt and putting it into the crypt. I immediately pulled the gun away from Ellen’s head, my eyes turning red as I held out my hand, my powers dragging Jake to me so I could hold him by the neck, rage surging through me like it was addictive. 

“Which way do you wanna go, huh?” I sneered, tilting my head with a grin. “I could switch off your brain, rip your guts out, but no, that’s too quick for you. I have a better idea.” I reached out, putting my fingertips around his heart. He started twitching, graining is pain as I retracted my hand, red wisps of energy following and slowly feeding small tendrils into what formed into his heart, pulsing, still beating. 

“Please.” Jake whispered. “Don’t do this, please.”

“Do it.” Sam snarled. “Kill him.”

“You’d rip them apart.” 

And I want to. 

“Please-“ I snapped my fist shut, bursting the heart and killing Jake, his body going limp as his head lolled forwards. I threw him down onto the ground without a second thought, my eyes returning to their normal colour. 

“Beanie?” Dean spoke up. “That you?” 

“Who else?” I snapped, staring down at Jake’s body before stepping over it. The two runes on the crypt spun in different directions before stopping, and a sense of apprehension immediately took over me. 

“Oh, no.” Bobby whispered. 

“What is it?” Ellen asked. 

“Hell.” Dean pulled the Colt from the crypt, and we all stepped back as we heard a lock click. “Take cover— now!” We dived behind headstones right as a door burst open, clouds of black smoke flying everywhere. 

“What the hell just happened?!” Dean groaned, taking cover next to me. 

“That’s a Devil’s gate!” I yelled. “A damn door to hell!” 

“Come on! We gotta shut that gate!” Ellen cried out. 

“If the demon gave this to Jake…” Dean muttered, fiddling with the Colt, then maybe-“ The gun flew out of his hand and landed in Yellow Eyes’, who smirked. 

“Boys shouldn’t play with Daddy’s guns.” He sneered, throwing Dean aside. Then he turned to me, chuckling. “I knew putting you in the game would be unfair. Poor Jakey didn't stand a chance. And now his heart's gone." 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m gonna make you in the meantime.” He forced Sam and I against trees, shrugging at Sam. “I'll get to you in a minute, champ. But I'm proud of you— knew you had it in you.” Then he faced Dean, throwing him against a post. “Sit a spell. So, Dean... I gotta thank you. You see, demons can't resurrect people, unless a deal is made. I know, red tape- it'll make you nuts. But thanks to you, Sammy's back in rotation. Now, I wasn't counting on that, but I'm glad. I liked him better than Jake, anyhow. Tell me— have you ever heard the expression, ‘If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is?’” 

“You call that deal good?” Dean scoffed.

“Well, it's a better shake than your dad ever got. Michael never got a good one either. And you never wondered why? I'm surprised at you. I mean... you saw what your dear Ivy 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? After all, Beanie came back a changed badass, didn’t she?“ He chuckled. “You of all people should know, that's what's 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.” He pointed the Colt at Dean, but I saw the ghost of John Winchester creeping up behind him. And he wasn’t alone. 

Carter’s ghost was with him. 

They grabbed a hold of Yellow Eyes, making him drop the Colt. I broke free from his telekinesis with a burst of blue light, picking up the Colt and aiming it at him. 

“I shot the wrong guy with this when I first used it.” I seethed. “Not this time.” I fired, and it hit him right in the heart. I ignored the falling body, instead turning to Carter, who I realised I was walking towards. He gave me a smile and joyful salute, and I did the same, wiping a tear from my cheek as he disappeared with a white light. 

When we got to a motel, before we went inside, I took Dean by the arm, smiling at Sam like nothing was wrong. “You go in with the others, Sam, we’ll catch up.” 

“Ok.” Sam nodded awkwardly, then headed inside with Ellen and Bobby, both of whom nodded in a way that said ‘give him hell.’ 

And hell I gave him. 

The moment he was inside, I spun Dean to face me and decked him in the jaw, making him hold it with a groan. 

“Again?!” He hissed, but I didn’t care. 

“You did it, didn’t you?” I fumed, and he looked startled. 

“Wh-“ 

“Don’t you dare ‘what’ me, Dean, it’s a simple question, yes or no. You did it, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, I did!” Dean burst out, throwing his arms up in the air. “I put my profile in a box, buried it and sealed the deal.” 

“After I told you not to do anything stupid?!” I scoffed. “Dean, that goes beyond the laws of stupid! How much time do you even have left?” 

He remained silent, turning away. 

“Dean.” 

Still nothing. 

“Dean!” 

Why wasn’t he saying anything? 

“ANSWER ME, DAMNIT-“ 

“A YEAR!” He yelled, turning back around. “I have a year, ok? The damn demon wouldn’t settle for anything else!” He saw me just standing there and held out his hands, waiting for an answer. “Ivy?”

“YOU FRICKING IDIOT!” I screamed, pushing him. “Are you that desperate to limit your chances of living? Do you think that low of yourself? I know what your dad’s done to your protective instincts, Dean Winchester, but he seems to have done nothing for your own survival.” I pushed my finger against his chest, my eyes flickering red for a moment. “Because you feel it’s so necessary to protect Sam and I and blame yourself if we get hurt- just cut it! Because I’m done! Time and time again- I can’t stand it. I’m not going to sit here like your dad did and watch you throw away your life-“ 

“Then don’t.” He whispered, but it cut through my words like a yell. “Leave. Don’t watch me throw away my life.” 

I instantly deflated, setting my jaw. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Deadly.” He seethed, gritting his teeth. 

I shook my head, the winding coil in my head snapping suddenly. “Fine. Congratulations, though, you just killed yourself.” 

“I did it for a reason! Sam is my family, but you wouldn’t understand that, would you?” 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” I shrugged, biting back tears. “Even though I had two boys who I’d give my life for in a heartbeat. Or at least I did.” I turned on my heel, walking back into the motel. The first thing I did was grab my spare clothes from Jo, Sam’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion once he saw what I was doing. 

“What happened?” He asked. 

“Ask your brother.” I retorted, taking out the keys to my Mustang and getting in, flooring it. 

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam turned to Dean, gesturing in the direction of where I drove off. 

“I don’t know.” Dean whispered, breathing heavily and unable to take his eyes off where my car once was. 

“Seriously, man, what the hell?” 

“I don’t- I don’t know.” He gulped, running both hands through his hair. “What have I done?”

PREVIOUS

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎!𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝟸

Summary: Ivonne Rainer hadn’t met Dean Winchester in 2006 after he was hit by a car. No, this time, this universe, they met in 2010, when the whole Apocalypse deal started and Dean was made leader of one of the only remaining survival camps in America. Little did he know, one random raid would change everything.

MASTERLIST

RETRIEVAL

“So…” I was approached by woman my age, her brown hair tied up in a sleek ponytail. “you must be the new arrival. Dean really has a problem with you.” 

I cocked a rifle, passing it to another camper, James Rhodes, who took it, checked it and nodded, seemingly impressed. “That’s me, yeah.” I nodded, folding my arms. “Though I’m usually known as Ivy.” 

“Ivy.” She repeated, then held her hand out with a smile. “Risa.” 

“Nice to meet you.” I responded with a small smile twitching at my lips, then I saw her still-outstretched hand and shook it hurriedly. 

“Woah, quite the grip.” She grinned as I let go. 

“Oh, uh, sorry.” I chuckled nervously. 

“Nah, you’re good.” Then she smiled again. “I don’t see what Dean meant about you being a pain in the ass. You seem like you aren’t.” 

“Just depends on who I’m hangin’ with.” 

“Touché. Dean can be an irritating S.O.B, but you learn to ignore when he’s being a douche after a while.” 

“Promise?” I smirked, making her laugh. I laughed too, feeling at ease around this… Risa. 

“Hey, uh, Risa?” James interrupted the conversation, slinging a gun clip holster on his chest. “I’m about to head out with the squad to Missouri. I know the boss told me to keep an eye on Ivy here, but-“ 

“Oh, so I need surveillance now?” I raised an eyebrow, pissed off. “This guy’s askin’ to get decked.” 

“Believe me, he is, but it’s just how Dean rolls.” Risa chuckled, then led me away. “You’ll have a much better time hanging around me. I’ll introduce you to the campers, get you started on something, and we’ll all be smiles and giggles.” 

“I hope not.” I laughed. 

“Yeah, neither do I.” She grinned. “Just a few things. Stay away from the hippie cabin at 3 o’clock, it gets hot an’ heavy in there and nobody wants to hear it. If you wanna earn Dean’s trust, you have to save his ass, but he doesn’t let anyone save his ass so you just kiss that sweet thing goodbye. And one last thing…” She rounded on me, “can you shoot?” 

“I’ll fire a bullseye if you give me a target.”

”Alright.” She picked up a shotgun, handing it to me. “There’s a red dot on the wall behind you. Don’t think, just shoot.” I immediately spun around, my eyes locking onto the red dot. The moment I got a visual, I pulled the trigger, hitting it dead on. “Damn!” 

“Eh, it’s nothin’.” I chuckled, handing the gun back. 

“You’re a damn good shot, I mean, that was-“ 

“Suicide!” A man who was only an inch taller than me popped up, looking outraged. “Do you know what Dean’s gonna say when he sees a bullet missing-“ His eyes landed on me, and he looked confused. “Risa, who is this?” 

“Right, I forgot to mention.” Risa gestured to me with a grimace. “Chuck, this is Ivonne Rainer, she’s new here. Ivy, this is Chuck ‘Prophet of the Lord’ Shirley. However, a prophet isn’t much use in an apocalypse. They’re only gonna spell D-O-O-M.” 

“At least I’m the rations organiser! What are you, the boss’ woman?” 

“Exactly.” Risa smirked before tapping me on the shoulder, leading me away. “That’s Chuck for you. He gets a bit sensitive sometimes. Anyway, Dean gets really touchy with the supplies and stuff, goes through ‘em himself to make sure nothin’s missing.” 

“If he’s gonna freak out over a bullet, give me a bit o’ metal and a heat source, I’ll forge a new one.” I grinned, and Risa raised her eyebrows.

I held up a freshly-forged bullet, examining it for a second before putting it in the cartridge. Risa looked on in surprise, and nodded in disbelief. “You did it.” 

“Yep.” I nodded, replacing the cartridge in the gun and cocking it before throwing it aside. “I’m prepared in a dire sitch. The boss won’t suspect a thing, so you’re safe.” 

“My god, you’re amazing.” She laughed in disbelief, looking at me in awe. “Just where did Dean dig you up from, huh, lifesaver?” 

“Jersey City.” I smiled. 

“Wait- that’s a Croat hotspot.” She sat up suddenly, her jaw dropping. “How long were you there?” 

“Two years.” 

“And you survived?! No bites? You’re not one of ‘em, right?” 

“I’m immune.” I shrugged, frowning a bit. “Never figured out why, but I’ve been bitten at, scratched, and never came out with a single goddamn piece of sulphur in my blood. It’s relievin’, but unsettlin’.” 

“Unsettling? That’s a damn blessing.” 

“It’s that I don’t know where they come from.” I sighed, looking down. “They just came to me when I was nineteen. No explanation, no nothin’, all I knew is that they were there.” 

“Damn, that’s…” She trailed off, frowning. “that’s rough.” 

“I lived, clearly.” I chuckled. “Besides, I had my uncle to help with the worst of it. Until we got separated, and I had to quite literally fend for myself out there.” 

We sat in silence for a moment, which was all I needed, if I’m bein’ honest.

“So…” I heard someone chuckle, and I turned to see James. “I heard you were the new thing pissing Dean Winchester off.” 

“That’s me.” I smirked. “And I wear that like a badge of honour.” Then I looked him up and down, thinking. Dude had a really good body, that was enough to tell under the strained khaki shirt that made his frame look more impressive and complimented his green eyes, paired with fluffy black hair. “Nice build. You ex-military or somethin’?” 

“Uh, no.” He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I used to be a detective sergeant. The muscles just came with the job.” 

“You used to be a cop?” I grinned, then saluted jokingly. “Thanks for your service.” 

“No problem. What about you? Any job before this?” 

“Hunting, and more hunting, and more hunting-“ 

“With hunting as the cherry on top.” He joked. 

“That’s right.” 

“James!” Chuck came running up, frantically looking at a clipboard. “I’d ask Dean, but he’s out on a mission. We’re running low on edibles, how should we ration?” 

“Women and children first.” James answered instantly, and I listened carefully. “Then ration with the elders, afterwards divvy it out to the rest.” 

“Wait, Chuck,” I frowned, “how much is left? How much food?”

”Not enough to last a week.” Chuck replied.

“Then rationin’ it out is gonna be extremely difficult. With the amount of people in this camp and enough food to last a week, the women and children are gonna have everythin’.” I frowned. “You need to send out a squad for supply retrieval. Nearest abundance of food I know’s in Missouri.” 

“We need Dean’s permission for that.” James raised an eyebrow, turning to me. “And he’s on a mission, left this mornin’.” 

“Not nearly enough time. He’s hittin’ a Croat hotspot, he could be back after a week and by that time we’ll be in crisis. Scramble a team of semi-automatic experts, take a Jeep, hit Missouri, it’s the only option.”

“The boss is gonna be pissed.” Chuck scoffed. “And how do we know your plan is valid?” 

“It actually works.” James agreed, nodding with a disbelieving look. “We’ve got enough men on hand to form a scavenge team, and Missouri’s the nearest state that we haven’t hit and isn’t a Croat infested wasteland.” 

“Not my fault if your ass gets busted by Dean.” 

“I don’t think it matters.” I retorted. “If people are starvin’, you need to do what’s necessary, not what the doctor ordered. Get a team together and send it out, see if I’m wrong.” 

“You are.” 

“Try me.” 

Winchester’s Jeep came back a week later with the med supplies, unloading them quickly. I looked up from where I was busy hauling a duffel bag, and the first thing he noticed was the people eating in a corner, his eyebrow raising. Then he turned to Chuck, conversing with him for a moment before I pinpointed the exact moment he saw red. His nostrils flared, jaw clenching along with his fist. I turned to James, sharing a look with him. 

We’re screwed. 

“JAMES!” Winchester yelled, now sipping a beer can. “RAINER! YOUR ASSES, MY TENT, NOW!” I rolled my eyes, running a hand through my hair as Risa whistled lowly. 

“Boss man seems mad.” She whispered. “Better go before he gets more pissed off. I’ll take that.” She took a hold of the duffel bag, and James and I made our way into Winchester’s tent, where he was standing there, cocking his rifle in a way that would seem threatening to a wuss. 

“You.” He pointed at James, who instantly stood straighter, the latter’s Adam’s apple bobbing. “You’re my second for a reason. Without contacting me, you authorised a raid that could have gone south so quickly. What got into you, huh?! Are you thick? Or a dumbass?” 

“With all due respect, boss, we would have starved.” James answered calmly, which seemed to aggravate Winchester even more. 

“That’s besides the point! What if we’d lost men? If someone had gotten turned? That blood would be on your hands, no one else’s!”

“With absolutely no respect whatsoever, I think he made a good call.” I stepped in with a frown, folding my arms. 

“I’m getting to you.” He snapped, pointing at me before rounding back on James. However, I wasn’t gonna take that for an answer. 

“I’m afraid you‘ll have to deal with me now.” I retorted, setting my jaw. “Fact remains that I suggested the only plan that worked in your absence when you were gone a week, and your second in command, the one who’s makin’ the decisions when you’re not here, led a squad, and they got back. Alive. Now people have food and water and they can remain sane. I don’t see how that’s a problem for you, or anyone, for that matter.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Ooh, make me.” 

He pulled his gun out, pointing it at me. “Do not make me pull this trigger-“ 

“Dean!” James yelled, stepping in front of me. “Are you insane?!” 

“She’s a smartass!” 

“Hey, hey, put it down!” 

“You don’t give the orders!” 

“To hell with orders!” James retaliated, making me raise an eyebrow. Damn, boy. “She helped. She made the layout for the strike squad. She’s a smartass, sure, but she’s a useful smartass. A really damn useful one, because we could use an immune and/or psychic person right now.” 

“All the more reason for me to blow her brains out. She’s a goddamn psychic, and I haven’t had the best experiences with those bastards.” 

“Just see goddamn reason!” He persisted, holding his hands out. “Look, if she starts to go insane, or whatever it is happened with the rest of people like her, I’ll shoot her myself.” 

I snorted. “As if you could-“ 

“Work with me here.” 

“Fine.” 

“Just…” James left a pause as he tried to find the words, “give her a chance.” Winchester paused for a moment, then lowered the gun, not without giving me a steely warning look. 

“Ok.” He nodded, glancing at me briefly, “But you’re keepin’ her in check. If she steps out of line, it’s your ass.” 

“Again, with no due respect, I can handle myself.” I scoffed. “You don’t need to post a bodyguard on me every five seconds.” 

He let out a dark chuckle, his lips pursing when he stopped. “You’re actin’ like you have a choice.” 

“Oh, yeah, I do.” I nodded. “Cause you’re in no position to order me around, since there’s clearly a power imbalance here.” 

The words made him stop and rethink, and then he gritted his teeth. “Get out.” 

“Gladly.” I smirked, walking out gratefully, happy to be away from that- “Douchebag.” 

“Jackass.” Dean growled under his breath. 

Well, that couldn’t have gone better.

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we could be more | dean winchester | 6

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

SIMON SAID

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : I DID SOMETHING BAD - TAYLOR SWIFT

‘I’m sorry about Xavier.’ Jo sighed from the other side of the phone. ‘He sounded great.’ 

“He was.” I smiled. “Thanks, Jo.” 

‘It’s ok. It’s horrible for this to happen, especially when you’re only just recovering from Carter.’ 

“People around me are dying, Jo.” I frowned, munching on my chocolate spread sandwich. “What if those two die too?” 

‘Those two are different.’ She vouched. ‘And I mean different. They literally seem… unkillable.’ 

“Nobody’s unkillable.” 

‘They do. Plus, there’s a bonus. Dean’s hot.’ I choked on my sandwich. 

“Sorry, what?” I coughed. “Don’t tell me you have a thing for him.” 

‘A lot of people would.’ 

“Never say that in front of me again.” I sighed. “I hate you.” 

‘Love you too.’ 

I smiled. “Love you, Jo.” I heard cries from upstairs, so I clicked my tongue. “I’ll call you later.” I cut the call, jogging up the stairs and going into Sam’s room, sitting on the bed and gently tried to wake him up, softly shaking him. “Sammy. Sammy, wake up.” He jerked awake, sitting up with sweat shining on his forehead. “Hey, I’m here.” 

“I…” He panted, looking around. 

“Tell me what you saw, Sam.”

“I don't know, man, why don't we just chill out, think about this.” Dean mused, and Sam shut the radio. 

“What is there to think about?” He shrugged. 

“I just don’t know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea.”

”Dean, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where.” 

“Yeah, man, but-“ 

“Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do.” 

“Let’s just go there, shall we?” I cut in, sighing. “I don’t wanna listen to this conversation any longer cause my brain is gonna hurt.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean agreed, all of us sitting in silence.

 We pulled up at the roadhouse, getting out and walking in, where we bumped into Jo. 

“Just can’t stay away, can you?” Jo flirted to Dean, folding her arms. 

“Yeah, looks like it.” Dean grinned. “How’re you doin’, Jo?” 

“Where’s Ash?” Sam asked hurriedly. 

“In his back room.” Jo pointed, and he jogged off. “And I’m alright.” 

“He’s just a bit jittery.” I smirked. “We’re on a bit of a timetable.” 

“I’m gonna go with Sam.” Dean informed, leaving. 

“You can’t tell me he’s not hot.” Jo giggled. 

“No.” I shook my head, sitting down. “Dean’s a friend. He’s protecting me.” 

“From what?” She shrugged. “Nothing devil-like’s come after you yet.” 

“But something will.” I sighed. “I haven’t told them the full truth about what happened to Carter. They think that I got my powers to save a college roommate.” 

“What did you tell them?” 

“That Carter died because he stabbed himself. You know how he actually kicked the bucket.” 

“Tell them, then.” 

“They’ll flip out. I’m a multi-murderer.” 

“It’s not your fault. What happened will never be your fault.” Dean came back, so I winked to Jo and disappeared into the shadows, letting her do her thing. 

“And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight.” Dean sang, You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter night, and I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might-“ 

“You’re kidding?” Sam scoffed.

”I heard it somewhere, now I can’t get it out of my head, man.” Dean coughed. I snickered; Jo played this song in the roadhouse. “Ok, so, what now?” I asked as we drove in the Impala, smirking. 

“Andrew Gallagher. Born in eighty three, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me.” Sam explained. 

“You think the demon killed his mom?” Dean raised an eyebrow. 

“Sure looks like it.” 

“How do we even look for this guy?” I exhaled, shuffling through papers. “No address, photo in the system, place of work, the only thing there is all of his debt marks.” 

“Debt collection flags?” Dean asked. 

“Zilch.” I clicked my tongue. “That’s a problem. He’s got a work address, though. We just need to find out what he looks like.” 

“Got anything in the witch arsenal?” 

“Maybe an identification spell.” I rummaged through my satchel. “Or an ability to draw the face of the other person.” I picked out a pen, which flew on its own. “Oh, hey, Carl! Long time no see.” 

“The pen’s name is Carl?” Dean blinked. 

“Yeah. He knows almost everything ever done, and I thought I lost him.” 

“Ask Carl about Andy then.” Sam urged, turning around. 

“Ok. Carl, draw me a picture of Andrew Gallagher, born in ‘83.” I drew up a blank page of paper, and Carl started flying across the paper, ink left behind. He was drawing a face, and when he finished, he signed ‘Andrew Gallagher’ underneath it. 

“We’re lookin’ for a hobo, boys.” I clicked my tongue. “Aka a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in many moons.” 

“No.” Dean refused. “You’re not flirting with him.” 

“Yeah, I am. You go to his old workplace, I’ll deal with Andy himself.”

“I’m dressing like I was when I was 19.” I sighed, walking into a diner. I had a blonde wig on, and yes, I briefly dyed my hair blonde. Andy was there, and as soon as he saw me, he sat up. I winked, sitting down next to him. “So, handsome, I’m new in town. Mind showing me what to get?” Why was I using a Boston accent?

“Sure, sweetheart.” He smirked, pointing out what to get on the menu. “What’s your name?” 

“Lily Xavier.” I smiled, looking him up and down. It seemed to go down well. He called a waitress, and spoke to her smoothly. 

“Can we get options 13 and 14 with a discount?” 

“Sure, sir.” The waitress nodded, walking off. I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna go to the restroom.” I excused, walking out the door and reaching the car, getting in beside Dean. “This is our guy. He did something to the waitress.” 

“Sam and I saw other things too.” I saw Andy approaching in the wing mirror, so out of panic, I put my hair in a ponytail, put on a band t-shirt, pulled my  leather jacket on and threaded the ponytail through a baseball cap. 

“Princeton?” Dean whispered, seeing the letters on the cap.

“Yeah.” I thought quickly, then I got it. “Kiss me.” I whispered, pulling Dean forward by his collar. Our noses bumped together gently, his green eyes flickering down to my lips and then up to my own grey eyes. 

“I like frisky women, but this is a little forward-“ 

“Andy’s coming, just kiss me.”

”But why?”

”PDA. Makes people turn their backs.” Dean obliged, our lips meeting with, ahem, a lot more passion than I was expecting. He had a woody cologne on, while I tasted this morning’s coffee on him, along with a… breath mint. I slipped my hand into his jacket, pulling out his gun as his free hand slipped around my waist, pulling me as close as he could. I handed him the gun, pulling away when I heard Andy clear his throat. 

“Hey.” Andy peered in the window, and Dean made  a quick recovery.

“Hey hey.” Dean smirked. 

“This is a cheery ride.”

”Hey, thanks.” 

“Man, the ‘67? Impala’s best year, if you ask me. This is a serious classic.” 

“Yeah. Just rebuilt her too.”

”Yeah?”

”Yeah, can’t let a ride this one go.” 

“Damn straight. Can I have it?” 

“Sure, man.”

”What?!” I whipped my head round, taking a hold of Dean’s arm. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Giving the car to him.” Dean replies with a grin, getting out. Stupidly, I got out after him, following after him. 

“Sweet.” Andy grinned, getting in the driver’s seat. 

“Just hop in there. There ya go.” 

“Dean, he’s taking your car.” I hissed. “You’d kill either Sam and I if we asked you about this.” 

“Eh, it’s ok.” Dean tossed Andy the keys, and he drove off. He seemed to snap out of it, turning to me. “Did he just take my car?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded. We got a call, and we picked it up. 

‘Dean! Andy’s got the Impala!’ Sam exclaimed. 

“Yeah, he asked me for it and I sorta, just, gave him it.” Dean gulped. 

‘You WHAT?!’ 

“Exactly. Dean literally got Obi-Wanned. We’re dealing with mind control, Sam.” 

‘Were you affected?’ 

“No, strangely. I think it might be my witch background. Vestiges of powers still remain even after you’re restricted.” 

‘Seems like it.’ Sam yelled out, then he poke frantically through the phone. ‘Dr Jennings just got hit by a bus.’ 

“We’re getting there.” 

We found the Impala, running over to it. 

“Thank god! Oh. I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again.” Dean cooed, breathing a sigh of relief. “Well, at least he left the keys in it.” 

“Yeah, real Samaritan, this guy.” Sam grimaced. 

“Well, we know now that Andy uses verbal cues to get people to do his bidding.” I wrote it down in my flip notebook. 

“Dr Jennings got a call moments before he died. Maybe Andy called him.” 

“Yeah, I dunno, he just doesn’t seem like our guy.” I drew air in through my teeth. 

“Beg your pardon?” 

“You heard me.” I replied. “Andy doesn’t seem like a killer.” 

“You had O.J convicted before he even got out of his white Bronco and you’re having second thoughts about this hobo?” Dean scoffed.

”Pretty much. And O.J was found guilty.” I gave them a look. “Just trust my sixth sense on this, ok?” 

“Either way, how do we track this guy down?” Sam asked. 

“Not a problem.” Dean smirked.

We opened a van, which had the worst setup I’d ever seen. 

“I’m starting to like this guy.” Dean smirked. 

“Yeah, well, stew in it.” I grimaced. “This is a pigsty. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no... clown paintings on the walls, or scissors stuck in victims' photos. Not that typical of a serial killer. Can’t forget the knives.”

”Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein?” Sam read aloud, looking at some books, “That's some pretty heavy reading.” 

“And…” Dean held up Moby Dick’s bong, making us roll our eyes. 

“Can we focus?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Dean went and got something from a minimart, while Sam and I sat in the front seat of the Impala. 

“Ugh. I’d like to see a day where I don’t have you eat something that you microwave at a minimart.” He groaned. 

“What I don't get is the motive. I mean, the Doctor was squeaky clean, why would Andy waste him?” Sam pondered. 

“If Andy wasted him.” I cut in. 

“This again?” 

“Hey, we’re not always black and white where these things are concerned.” I retorted. “Andy could have these powers, but there’s a possibility that he’s not another copy of the Max kid you told me about.” 

“The Doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math.” 

“20 says you’re wrong.” 

“Bet.” 

“Hey!” Andy appeared at the window, slamming his hands down. “You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?” Dean looked stunned, but Sam and I kept our composure. 

“We’re lawyers.” Sam smiled. “A relative of yours has passed away-“ 

“Tell the truth!”

“That’s what I’m-“ 

“We hunt demons.” Dean blurted, making us stare at him. 

“What?” Andy gasped. 

“Dean!” Sam hissed. 

“Demons and spirits. Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Sam here, he's my brother. This is Ivy, she’s a really, really gorgeous close friend.” 

“Dean, shut up!” 

“I’m trying- he's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself and Ivy’s a witch who had her powers taken away by the devil-“ 

God help me. 

I turned Dean to face me, kissing him hard. His words turned into incoherent mumbles, while Sam both smirked and looked away at the same time. I let him go, catching my breath. 

“The hell was that for?” 

“To shut you up. You were gonna spill the Winchester family history.” 

“Just leave me alone, alright?” Andy ordered. 

“Ok.” Dean winced, scrunching up his face.

“The hell we are.” I scoffed, getting out of the car with Sam and following Andy. 

“What are you doing?” Andy stammered. “Look, I-I said leave me alone. All right? Get out of here, just start driving and never stop.” 

“Doesn’t seem like it’s working, Wanda Maximoff.” We rounded on him. 

“You can make people do things, can't you?” Sam asked. “You can tell them what to think.” 

“That-that’s crazy.” 

“It all started about a year ago, didn’t it?” He continued. “When you were twenty two. Small things at first, but then you learnt how to control it.”

”How… how do you know all this?“

”Because the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities too. You see, we're connected, you and me.” 

“You know what? J-just get out of here, alright?!”

”Why did you kill that doctor?” 

“Sam.” I warned, then stepped forward. “We’re not gonna hurt you, ok?” 

“How are you so sure?” Andy retorted. 

I switched to my Boston accent from earlier. “Trust me, honey, if we wanted to hurt you, we would’ve by now.” 

“You’re the blonde chick?” 

“Precisely.” Sam cried out from behind me, holding his head. I turned around, taking a hold of him. “Sam? Sammy, what is it?” He started to fall, but Dean and I caught him and laid him down on the pavement. 

“Look, I didn’t do anything to him.” 

“A woman.” Sam gasped, eyes opening. “A woman burning alive.” 

“What else did you get?” Dean asked. 

“A woman is about to burn herself at a gas station.” 

“What d-do you m-mean, going to?” Andy stammered. “What is, what is he-“

”Shut it!” Dean snapped. 

“She gets triggered by a call on her cell.” Sam panted.

”When?”

”I don’t know.” He nodded to Andy, “But if we keep an eye on this guy, he can’t hurt her.”

”I haven’t hurt anyone.” Andy retorted. 

“Not yet.” A fire engine roared past, all of us looking in shock. 

“Dean, go after the engine.” I ordered, then turned to Sam and Andy. “You two, with me.” 

“How are you not affected?” Andy asked me. 

“Your brain will probably fall out if I tell you.” I picked up a call from Dean. “Hello?” 

‘Hey, it’s me. She’s dead. Burned up, just like Sam said.’

”So Andy couldn’t have done it.” I sighed. “Sam owes me 20 bucks. But it has to be someone else, then.” 

‘Sam’s visions are getting out of control. This was barely a head start. Anyhow, I’ll dig around and see what I can find.’ 

“I’ll handle everything over here.” I cut the call, turning to Sam. “You owe me a 20, Sammy. Andy didn’t do it.” I held out my hand, and 20 bucks were placed there. “But we need to talk. All three of us.” 

“So you get these premonitions of people about to die?” Andy asked Sam. We were all sitting on an abandoned truck in a mostly empty lot. Sam nodded. “Dude, that’s impossible.” 

“Andy, meet impossible.” I gestured to Sam, who laughed. 

“Some could say the same thing about what you do.” Sam smiled. 

“But… death visions.” Andy whispered. 

“Yeah.” 

“Man, that sucks. I mean, like, when I got my mind thing? It was like a gift, you know, it was, it was like I won the lotto.“

”But, I… I don’t get it.” I frowned. “You still live in a van. I mean, you could- you could have anything you ever wanted.”

”But I’ve got everything I need, y’know?” 

“You’re really not a killer, are you?” Sam smirked, both of us sharing a look. 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Andy laughed. 

“Have we got that sorted, then?” I grinned. 

“I still can’t get over how you were a blonde with a Boston accent.” 

“I used to be blonde, so I just bought a wig cause I knew it looked good on me. As for the Boston accent?” I exhaled with a nervous chuckle. “It just slipped out.”

Dean pulled up, getting out of the car while we got off the van. “Victim's name was Holly Becket, forty one, single.” He explained. 

“Who is she?” I asked Andy.

“I don’t know.” He replied, shrugging. 

“Called Ash on the way over here, he came up with a little something.” Dean looked at Andy. “Apparently Holly Becket gave birth when she was eighteen years old, back in 1983. Same day you were born, Andy.” 

“Andy, were you adopted?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah.” Andy nodded. 

Dean scoffed. “And you neglected to mention that?” 

“I don’t think he’s gonna mention it if we don’t bring it up.” I contradicted. 

Andy shrugged. “I mean, I, I never knew my birth parents, and, and like you said my adopted mom died when I was a baby - do you, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my m-“ 

“I don't know.” Dean grimaced. “I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office.” 

“Well, screw that.” Andy grinned, then turned to me. “Do you think you can become Miss Boston again?” 

I groaned. “Sure.” I took my t-shirt off, revealing a crop top. I looked in the Impala, taking off my Princeton baseball cap and struggling for a second, emerging with a blonde wig and blue contacts. I also took out a bottle, spraying it on my face. I went back to them, feeling weird. “How do I look?” 

“Like a blonde babe.” Dean smirked. “Did you spray freckles on your face? And put blue contacts?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I have faint freckles, so technically I sprayed on more.” I turned to Andy. “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“Charm the guy long enough so I can get close and do the mind mojo.” Andy grinned. 

“Right.” I started using the Boston accent. “I’ll charm him, honey.” 

“That’s scary.” Dean chuckled nervously. 

I approached the front desk of the records office, leaning over the front desk. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” The man asked. 

“I’m so sorry, I just got lost on my way to ‘Chusetts, so I’m hangin’ here for a few weeks. D’you mind showing me the ropes around ‘ere?” I twirled a bit of hair around my finger, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Sure, lovely. I could give you a lot more than that, too.” He winked. 

“Such as?” 

“Well, first-“ I was about to slap him, then Andy came up behind him and stopped me.

“Let us in. Don’t question why.” He commanded, and the man let us in. 

“Creeps nowadays. Even though I was meant to be flirting with him.” I spat, and Sam put his arm protectively around me. I started wiping off the makeup with a makeup remover pad, and he chuckled. 

“Now I see the freckles.” He grinned. “Can’t believe I didn’t before.” 

“Probably shouldn't have let you kids in here.” The guard gulped while Andy led him to the door. 

“No, it'll all be fine. All right? Just go get a cup of coffee.” Andy consoled while I sat down at the computer, typing quickly. “These aren’t the ‘droids you’re looking for.” 

“Awesome.” Dean grinned. While typing with one hand, I took my wig off, releasing my normal hair and taking my contacts out. A couple more buttons and… gotcha.

“I got it.” I called. Everyone crowded around me. 

“You did?” Andy gasped. 

“It’s true, Andy.” I nodded. “Holly Beckett was your birth mother.” 

“Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?” 

“Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too, I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t kill him.” 

“We believe you.” Dean assured. 

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. 

“Then who did?” 

“I have a vague idea.” I took out a needle and some herbs. “May I?” 

“Yeah.” Andy nodded. I pricked his finger, dropping it on the herbs. They became red dust, rising up and forming two boys. 

“I knew it. Holly Beckett gave birth to twins.” 

Andy was in shock, while I located the brother. 

“I have an evil twin.” Andy gasped. 

“Holly put you and your brother up for adoption.” I explained. “And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate.” 

“Andy, how you doing?” Dean grimaced. “Still with us?” 

“Um, what’s the name of my brother?” Andy asked. 

“Ansem Weems. He’s got a local address.” I pulled out Steve. “Draw him, please, Carl.” 

“He lives here?” 

“Yeah. Carl’s drawing him right now.” 

“I’m not even surprised anymore.” He sighed upon seeing Carl drawing on a piece of paper. 

“I’ve got a match.” I showed the paper to the other three. “Recognise this guy?” 

“That’s… That’s Weber. He works where I work.” Andy gasped. “Oh my god. Tracy.” 

“Go. Get to the car!”

”Alright, Andy, work with me. What do you know about Weber?” I asked, in shotgun while I loaded my gun. 

“Well, I mean, not much. I... Weber shows up one day, eight months ago?” Andy stammered. “Acting like he's my best friend in the world. Kinda weird, like, trying too hard, you know?” 

“Must have known you guys were twins.” Dean grimaced. “But why change his name? Why not tell you the truth?” 

“No idea.” I turned around, spotting Sam, who looked like he was in pain. 

“Dean, pull over!” I ordered, and he agreed, getting out of the driver’s seat and rushing over to Sam. I did the same, kneeling down in front of him. “Sam!” 

“Sammy!” Dean took Sam’s shoulders, trying to make heads or tails of what was happening. 

“Tracy.” Sam gulped, regaining consciousness. “Tracy’s gonna die.” 

“Tracy!” Andy gasped. 

“Beanie, you drive.” Dean got a sniper out of the trunk. “I’m gonna set up a sniper shot. Get Sammy and Andy there, then book it.” 

“Yes, sir.” I nodded, getting in the driver’s seat while Dean took mine. I handed Andy my gun. “Take care of it, yeah?” I then floored it, gritting my teeth. 

I set up a sniper, aiming it at the lot, waiting for when Weber would come into a space where I’d get a clean shot. 

“Do you think this’ll work?” Dean asked. 

“Truth be told, I have no idea.” I breathed. “But I trust Sam.”

I watched as Sam busted the window to the car which Weber was sitting in open, holding a gun to him. “Get out of the car! Now!” Sam ordered.

“You really don’t want to do this.” Weber smirked, but then Sam punched him, giving Andy enough time to drag Tracy out of the car. Sam pulled Weber out, shoving him against the pavement and holding a gun to his head. 

“Don't move. Don't move!” He yelled. Andy ran over, duct taping Weber’s mouth and kicking him twice, but then Sam shoved him off. “No, I’ll handle him.” 

“I'm gonna kill you!” Andy shouted. 

“No, Andy, let me handle this!”

”I will kill you!”

”Listen to me! Listen to me!” Weber stared at Tracy, and she picked up a stick and hit Sam across the head with it, rendering him unconscious. 

“Tracy, stop!” Andy begged. “I said STOP IT!” Tracy put the stick down as Weber stood up, peeling the duct tape off his mouth. “How did you do that?” 

“Practice, bro.” Weber smirked. “If you'd just practice, you would know. Sometimes you don't need to use your words. If you have to, all you need is this. Sometimes the headache's worth it.” 

Andy grabbed Weber roughly. “You’re a twisted son of a-“

”Back off, Andy. Or Tracy's gonna do a little flying.” I saw Tracy standing at the edge of the bridge, crying. “Aren’t you, Trace? I’m stronger than you. I can do it.”

“Ok, ok. Alright, just please, don’t hurt her.” 

“Don't be mad at me, okay? I know, it's, it's all wrong. I didn't mean for this to happen, it's just... Tracy? She's trying to come between us.” 

“You’re insane.” Andy spat. 

“She’s garbage!” Weber scoffed. “Man, they all are! We can, we can push them, we can make them do whatever we want!” 

“Are you… are you really that stupid?” 

“Wha-“ 

“You’ve learnt that you’ve got a twin, you call him up, go for a drink- you don’t start killing people!”

”I've wanted to tell you for so long, bro. But he didn't let me. He said I had to wait until the time was...” 

“Who‘s he?”

”The yellow eyed man.” I shared a look with Dean. This was the guy they’d told me about. 

“He came to me. In my dream. He said I was special. He told me he's got big plans for me. Wait 'till you see what's in store, Andy, for both of us! See, he's the one who told me I had a brother. A twin.” I lined up my shot, aiming for Weber’s temple. 

“Why did you kill our mother?” Andy cried. “And why-why Doctor Jennings?” 

“Because they split us up!” Weber practically screamed. “They ruined our lives, Andy! We could have been together this whole time. Instead of alone. I couldn't, I couldn't let them do that, I couldn't let them get away with that. No.” 

Dean lined up his shot, but he cracked a twig. Weber saw him, and smirked. I heard the command resonate, it was that powerful. 

“I see you. Bye bye.” 

“Dean!” I yelled as Dean aimed the gun at his chin. “DEAN!” I took a hold of it, aiming it towards my chest. 

“Fine. Kill her, then.” 

“Fight it, Dean.” I begged. He seemed to regain some consciousness of what he was doing, because he looked at the gun and back to me. 

“Beanie, help me.” He whispered, his finger tightening on the trigger. 

“Come on, Winchester.” I smiled. “You can do it-“ I heard a shot and a sharp pain, but when I looked down at my chest, I saw nothing. Instead, Weber fell to the floor, Andy standing behind him, holding my gun. 

I ducked down, covering my head and screaming at the sound of a gunshot. Dad covered my mouth, hurriedly silencing me. 

“Hey, hey, jellybean!” He bent down in front of me. “What’s wrong?” 

“I almost got shot!” I yelled. 

“Almost!” 

“Highlighting the ‘shot’!” 

“Alright, I’m gonna teach you a valuable lesson, jellybean.” He shot into the distance, making me flinch. “Don’t be scared if you hear a gunshot.” 

“Why?” I asked, folding my arms. 

“Because if you hear it,” Dad grinned, “it wasn’t meant for you. Now, c’mon, jellybean. We’ve got a spirit to scramble.”

”Good work, kid.” I muttered, grinning. Turns out Dean had managed to regain his senses and move the gun away from my chest right as he pulled the trigger. But the bullet nicked my ear.

”Beanie, sweet Jesus!” Dean cursed, chucking the gun aside and turning my face. “We need to get you to the ambulance.”

“Your ear will be fine, ma’am.” A nurse assured, taping the last of the graze. “You’re lucky your boyfriend saved you.”

”Extremely lucky.” I whispered. But when I looked at Dean, he avoided my eyes while Sam and Andy walked over. 

“My gun, please.” I held out my hand, and I got my gun back. “You did good, Andy.” I shook his hand, standing up. “I’ll give you my cell too. Neither of you have to be alone when this big plan is set in motion.” I then gave Andy my number, grinning.

“Thanks, Miss Boston.” Andy joked.

”Call me Ivonne Rainer.” I smirked. Andy went over to brainwash more police while I took a walk with Sam.

“I saw you when you got shot.” Sam looked at me, calculating. “You didn’t even flinch.” 

“Partially the adrenaline from saving your brother, but also because I’ve been taught that if you hear the bullet, it wasn’t meant for you.” I replied casually. 

“Solid advice. From your dad, right?” 

“Yep.” I clicked my tongue. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” 

“About what?” 

“What if my abilities weren’t meant for me? What if Carter was supposed to have ‘em?” 

“How so?” 

“Born in ‘83. Family dies, but not in a house fire. Abilities mysteriously start. I mean, you don’t find a witch suddenly in a line of pure human. And these psychic powers of yours, they made you immune to Andy. I shouldn’t be, but I am. It makes me think that this is all connected somehow.” 

“We could try and find out.” Sam suggested. “But one thing’s for sure.” 

“What’s for sure?” 

“That if Carter was alive, today,” He smiled, “he’d think the world of you. I do, at least. And it’s obvious that you treat me the same way that you’d treat Carter if he was still here.” 

“Is it that obvious?” I joked. “You’re just like he was, Sammy. And I’d give the world to that kid. If he was… well… alive.” 

Sam nudged me. “I think he knows.” 

“Jo?” Ellen asked. We were now at the roadhouse, since Ellen had called us there. 

“Hmm?” Jo looked up. 

“Go pull up another case of beer.” 

“Mom…” 

“Now. Please.” Jo went to get more beer, so Ellen leaned forward. “So. You uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?” 

“No. Not really.” Dean quickly refused. “No offence, but this is kind of a family thing.” 

“Not anymore.” Ellen dropped a pile of papers on the desk. “I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?” 

“We think so.” Sam nodded. 

“Sam…” Dean hissed. 

“Why?” Ellen raised an eyebrow, looking between us. 

“None of your business.” 

“You mind your tongue with me, boy. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here.” 

“There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like Sam.” I explained. “And um, they all have some kind of ability.” 

“Ability?” 

“Yeah. Psychic ability.” Sam nodded. “Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us.” 

“What kind of plans?” 

“No way to know for sure.” I grimaced. 

“These people out there, these psychics. Are they dangerous?” 

“Not all of them. But some are or can be extremely dangerous.” 

“Ok, how many are we looking at?” Ellen asked. 

“We've been able to track a clear pattern so far.” Dean chimed in. “They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six month birthday.” 

“Well, that’s not true.” I cut in. 

“What?” 

“Weber and/or Ansem Weems, he had no house fire. Nothing out of the ordinary.” 

“Which breaks pattern.” Ellen sighed. “So if there’s others just like him, there’s no way to track ‘em all down.” 

“Which makes our job harder.” 

“Jo, honey?” 

“Yeah?” Jo popped her head round the door. 

“You better break out the whiskey instead.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we could be more | dean winchester | 2

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

EVERYBODY LOVES A CLOWN

NOW PLAYING: TEARS OF A CLOWN - IRON MAIDEN

I walked up to Sam and Dean, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry ‘bout your dad. I’ve got my clothes in here, so I’ll change quickly.” 

“Alright.” Dean opened the door to my car, giving me a wink. “Sam and I’ll block the windows.” I climbed into it, putting on a black dress and heels before getting out. 

Dean whistled. “Lookin’ pretty, Beanie.” 

“Beanie?” I raised an eyebrow, and so did Sam. 

“She wears a beanie. Beanies are adorable and so is she. So I’m callin’ her Beanie.” 

“I can’t win.” I groaned. “Let’s just go, you don’t want to be late.” 

“Yeah, we don’t.” Sam scowled at Dean as we got back into the car, Dean punished by sitting in the backseat while I rode shotgun. 

“I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. Like I’m some bad omen.” I frowned, but was waved off by Sam. 

“No, no. If anything, you helped.” 

“You saved my life, Beanie, I owe you a lot for that.” Dean piped up.

“Will you stop calling me Beanie?” I asked, hopeful. 

“No chance.” 

“Worth a shot.” We spent the rest of the road in silence until we pulled up at a location with everyone dressed in black, and there was a funeral pyre. This was John Winchester’s funeral. I, at first, insisted on not going, but Sam and Dean insisted that I’d come along. I stood in silence, thanking the stars that the second funeral I’d been to had been without my empathic abilities. I couldn’t feel anything, and it was bliss. 

“Before he.. before, did he say anything to you? About anything?” Sam asked Dean, who looked down. 

“No.. no. Nothing.” He replied monotonously, and I looked between the two before enjoying the absence of overwhelming emotions.

Sam nudged me, taking me out of my thoughts. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just in thought.” I replied quietly, watching the pyre burn. 

“I-I can’t take much more of this.” Dean groaned, walking off. We followed him to the Impala, where he handed me my clothes, so I went to the nearest bathroom and changed, coming back out while fixing my scarf. 

“Alright, what now?” I asked, fixing my hair. 

“Home?” Dean shrugged. “Though I need to get my Impala.” 

“Let’s take my car, then, and spend a bit at my place before we get your car.” I offered. “Then we can tow the Impala out to my house. I’ve got quite a few tools there you can use.” 

“Sounds like a privilege, Beanie.” Dean grinned to Sam, going shotgun. “See? I knew we should’ve kept her with us.” 

“Thanks, Ivonne.” Sam whispered in my ear, and I patted his shoulder. 

“Please.” I scoffed. “You two are helping me live. Lunch is an understatement.” I opened my car door, getting in. “There’s a good cafe where I can get us lunch. Wanna make a pit stop there?” 

“That would be good, yeah.” Sam nodded. I put my foot down on the pedal, playing music while I drove. 

“Got some water?” Dean asked, so I gave him a fresh bottle from the side pocket. He sipped it intently. “I love a girl who can drive-“

”Drink your water.” I laughed, turning the wheel while Sam snickered in the back. 

“Tell him, Ivonne.” He grinned. “He needs it.” 

“Sammy, be nice.” Dean chastised playfully, then turned to me. “When did you start hunting?”

”As soon as I developed magic abilities, which was at 19.” I replied. “Roommate of mine had a vengeful spirit after them. Conveniently, they showed up so I could destroy it.” 

“Sounds like a ride.” Sam commented. 

“You have no idea.” I laughed. I pulled up at a cafe, parking quickly. I checked myself in the mirror quickly, arranging my hair to look, well, better. 

“Who’re you preening for?” Dean scoffed, re-popping his collar and sorting out his hair.

“Who’re you preening for?” I retorted. 

“I asked first. Is there a guy in there?” 

“Hot barista.” I grinned, taking out a lip gloss and applying it. “He went to my high school.” I opened the car door, getting out and both of them following suit.

“So you’re taken?” Dean joked. 

“Dean.” Sam groaned.

“It’s a serious question!” 

“Hopefully I will be.” I teased. “Maybe then you’ll get off my back.” 

“Kind of hard to do, sweetheart.” Dean winked, giving me the fifth once-over of the day. We went into the cafe, and the barista at the counter smirked once he saw me. His name was Alex, and he had messy brown hair with startling blue eyes, and he was visibly well-built. I walked over to the counter, and he chuckled. 

“Ivonne… Hazel… Rainer.” He laughed. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen you.” 

“Alex Wilde.” I smiled. “I could say the same for you.”

I heard some movement behind me, and Alex’s eyes flickered to Dean and Sam. “Who’re these two? Bodyguards?” 

He hit the nail on the head. I giggled, shaking my head. “I wish I was famous enough for bodyguards. This is Sam and Dean.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Sam shook Alex’s hand. “I’m Sam.” 

“And I’m Dean.” Dean also shook Alex’s hand, a small smirk on his face. 

“Alex.” Alex grinned, then turned to me. “Your usual?” 

“You know it.” I smiled. 

“And you guys?” 

“I’ll take a latte.” Sam spoke up. 

“I’ll have what the lady’s having.” Dean nodded to me, flashing his signature smirk again. 

“Alright, I’ll get that to y’all.” Alex nodded, and we sat down. Dean raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he nodded towards Alex.

“Him? Really?” 

“Yes, him.” I shot back. 

“He seems nice.” Sam contradicted. 

“Exactly!” 

“Seems like a wimp.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Dean, be nice.” Sam chastised. 

“I’m saying that Beanie can do better than a barista.” 

“A hot barista.” I retorted. 

“You can’t argue with that logic.” Sam whistled. 

Dean just shook his head.

I opened the door to my house, letting the boys in and taking off my shoes.

“Sweet joint.” Dean praised while Sam picked up salt from the edge of the room. 

“This is where you got your powers taken from you, right?” He deduced, and I nodded, then turned to Dean, who was about to head to the kitchen. I snapped my fingers. 

“Hey, ay, ay!” I called, getting his attention. “Shoes off past that point.” 

“Really?” He groaned, turning to me. 

“Shoes. Off.” I glared at him for a moment, then he conceded, taking his shoes off. Sam did too for good measure, both of them lining it up neatly. I took a piece of paper, writing on it then sticking it above the doorway. 

SHOES OFF PAST THIS POINT IF YOU WANNA LIVE :)

- Ivy

”Really, Beanie?” Dean grimaced. “It’s that necessary?” 

“My house, my rules.” 

“My shoes, my rules.” 

“My house is bigger and more expensive.” I mimicked a mic drop, “I’ve got two spare bedrooms so you boys don’t have to suffer sharing the same bed. Settle down, and after a week we’ll go to the impound.” 

“Who put you in charge?” Dean argued. 

“Common sense did.” I replied smoothly as I walked into the kitchen.

”I gotta say,” Sam quipped, “I agree with common sense.” Dean narrowed his eyes. 

“Which side are you on?!”

We were forward a week, and we’d reached the impound where Dean’s car was stationed. It looked, well, better than before, and Sam was awkwardly standing over him. I think that the prospect of John’s death really hit Dean like a bullet train, because he got grumpier and grumpier as the week went. I guess the momentary laughs were just denial. 

“How's the car coming along?” Sam asked, looking down on Dean’s legs, which were the only thing you could see with his torso under the car. 

“Slow.” Dean replied coldly. Ouch.

”Yeah? Need any help?” 

“What?” He laughed. “You, under a hood? I’ll pass.” 

“Need anything else, then?” 

“Stop it, Sam.” Dean pushed himself out from under the car, looking agitated. Something seemed to pull a nerve there.

”Stop what?” Sam asked, looking confused. 

“Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise.” 

“All right, Dean, it's just... We've been at Ivonne’s for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once.”

”You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance.” Dean scoffed. I frowned, folding my arms. 

“Don't patronise me, Dean, Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened.” Sam pleaded.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car.” 

“Revenge, huh?” Dean nodded sceptically, jaw ticking. 

“Yeah.” 

“Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it - oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do? Is I can work on the car-“

“Just shut the hell up!” I burst out, slapping my forehead. “I’ve had enough of this, I really have. The tension here is thick enough for me to take a knife and stab right through it. Sam, reflect. Dean, we need to talk.” I took Dean by the collar, dragging him away from Sam while he feebly protested. 

“Hey, hey, watch the collar!” He finally swatted my hand away, popping his collar again and then folding his arms. “What?” 

“You need to cut the attitude, cause you’re acting like a douche.” I frowned, folding my own. “Your dad died-“ 

“Yeah, my dad died. What about it?” 

“You’re acting strong, Dean.” I sighed. “You’re a stubborn person, I know that, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurting. But so is your brother.” 

Dean scoffed, “I’m not hurting-“ 

“Yes, you are.” I insisted, raising my eyebrows. “It’s so obvious and I know it’s hard to deal, but you can’t shut Sam out like that. He needs your help, even if you don’t realise it.” 

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Dean’s eyes narrowed and suddenly I had no voice. I looked down, remaining silent, and he gently took my shoulders, bending down and trying to get me to look at him. “Who died, Ivonne? Talk to me.”

“It’s not important.” I muttered, then turned and walked over to Sam. “He’s gonna be better, I think.” 

“Thanks, Ivonne, I…” Sam paused for a moment, “I’ve just never seen him like this and it’s scaring me a bit.” 

“I don’t blame you.” I sighed. “He’s acting up and it’s not okay, but he’s visibly hurt by this. I’m gonna try and be there for him and so should you. Even if he doesn’t let you.” 

“Makes sense.” 

“So,” I spread my arms, “bring it in.” He hugged me tightly, and I patted his back. “It’s gonna be ok, Sam.” We detached, “Now show me whatcha got.” 

“This is one of dad's old phones.” He took out a battered phone. “Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this.” 

“Wait-“ I turned, “DEAN! GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE!” Dean walked over, and Sam played the voicemail. 

‘John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.’ 

“That message is four months old.” Sam frowned. 

“Dad saved that chick's message for four months?” Dean blinked. 

“Yeah.”

”Well, who's Ellen, for starters?” I asked. “Any mention of her in John’s journal?” 

“No. But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address.” 

“Let’s take my car.” I offered, holding up my keys. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean agreed.

We approached the Roadhouse Saloon, with Dean at the wheel this time, and he smoothly parked in front. We got out, looking around cautiously. 

“Hello?” Sam called, “Anybody here?”

”They will be here soon.” I hissed. 

“Just checking!”

“Hey. You bring the, uh…” Dean held out his hand, and Sam searched his pockets. 

“Yeah.” He tossed a pickpocketing tool to Dean, who quickly opened the door to the saloon. We crept in, eyes darting around. A light bulb blew out, and there was a man passed out at the bar. 

“Hey, buddy?” Sam whispered, and I chuckled. 

“I’m guessing that’s not Ellen.” I quipped with a smirk. I went behind the bar, searching for someone. Then I heard a click, a smack and Dean calling out for help. 

“Sam! Sammy! I need some help!” 

“My hands are tied too.” Sam replied, and I pulled out my gun, flicking down the safety pin. I raised it, moving into the room behind the woman holding a gun to Sam’s head. 

“Mine aren’t.” I growled, alerting both the attackers. “Drop your guns and let them go or you’ll both be on the floor faster than you can say ‘hands up’.” 

“Wait…” Dean’s attacker popped out from behind him, her eyes widening when she saw me. She had long blonde hair, brown eyes and the most recognisable style I have ever seen. Nobody wears a green tank top and mom jeans and pulls it off that well. “Ivvy?” 

“Jo?” I half-laughed, half-exhaled as we both realised who we were dealing with. We stored our guns in our pockets, hugging each other tightly. 

“I’m so glad you’re here!”

”I’m so glad I’m here, trust me.” 

“I’m confused.” Dean whispered. 

“They know each other, Dean.” Sam hissed.

”Should have done a degree in stating the obvious, Sammy.”

”Sam? Dean? Winchester?” Ellen questioned, looking between the two. 

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. 

“Son of a…” 

“Mom, do you know these guys?” Jo asked, detaching herself from me. 

“I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” 

“They are.” I nodded. 

Ellen laughed, lowing her handgun. “Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo.” 

Dean flashed his signature smirk at Jo, who smiled back. “Hey.” He grinned. 

“Hey.” She replied, looking bashful. 

“You’re not gonna hit me again, are you?”

”Here you go.” Ellen offered Dean a towel with ice, which he accepted. 

“Thanks.” 

“Good one. I’ve been waiting to do that.” I whispered to Jo, who giggled.

”You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?” 

“Well, the demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it.” Ellen said candidly. 

“What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?” Dean scoffed. “I mean, who-who are you? How do you know about all this?”

”Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once.” 

“Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you?” 

“You’d have to ask him that.” 

“So why exactly do we need your help?”

“Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your butt on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if...” She trailed off, eyes widening, “he didn’t send you. He's all right, isn't he?“

“No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think.” Sam stammered. “It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s ok. We’re ok.” Dean coughed. 

“No, he is not.” I muttered.

”Really? I know how close you and your dad were.” 

“Really, lady, we’re fine.” Dean growled through gritted teeth. 

“‘Course you are.” I tutted. 

“Ivonne.”

“So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get.” Sam pleaded. 

“Well, we can't.” Ellen stated. “But Ash will.” 

“Who’s Ash?” I blinked. 

“ASH!” The sleeping man at the bar woke up, flailing his arms. 

“I’m up, I’m up! Is it closing time?” Ash slurred.

“That’s Ash?” Sam coughed. 

“Delightful.” I grimaced.

”Mhmm. He’s a genius.” Jo convinced, but I wasn’t as much as she was. She started pouring glasses of water, while Ellen slapped a folder on the table. Sam sat down, leaving Dean and I to stand. 

“You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius.” Dean groaned. “He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.” 

“Shut your pie hole.” I snapped. 

“I like you.” Ash chuckled, pointing to me.

”Thanks.” 

“Just give him a chance.” Jo sighed. Dean resigned, sitting down. 

“All right.” Dean cleared his throat. “This stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work, so uh, let's see what you make of it.” 

“Come on. This stuff ain't real.” Ash scoffed. “There ain't nobody can track a demon like this.” 

“Their dad could.” I retorted. 

“There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean.. damn!” Ash exclaimed. “They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms... You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun.” 

“Can you track it or not?” Sam groaned. 

“Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time, uh, give me…” Ash clicked his tongue, “fifty one hours.” He then got up to leave. 

”Hey, man?” Dean piped up. 

“Yeah?” 

“I, uh, dig the haircut.” It was an odd haircut, I’ll give him that.

“All business up front, party in the back.” He left, and I turned to Ellen. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Ivvy.” Ellen smiled, passing me a beer. 

“Same to you, El.” I grinned. “Haven’t felt this at home in ages.” 

“How’re you feeling after Danny?” She asked, and I kissed my teeth, thinking. 

“Better than I was. Until the Devil took my powers.” 

“He did what?!” She slammed the table. “Evil little son of a-“ 

“Ok, ok!” I chuckled, “It’s fine. I’m survivin’.” 

“He shouldn’t.” Ellen growled. “I remember when you were just a girl. Sweetest thing I’ve ever met. These powers corrupted you, but that demon’s going to do worse.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” I sighed, looking down. 

“I think Jo’s free from Dean, go catch up.” I immediately got up, going over to Jo and hugging her again. 

“What’s this about your powers gone?” She asked, and I showed her the rune. 

“Gone until the demon dies or I find a ‘drop of love’.” I scoffed.

“What’s that?” 

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” 

“I’m sure you will.” She patted my shoulder. “By the way, this Dean pal of yours was flirting with me.” 

“Pay no attention to him.” I laughed. “He does that with me too. He puts on a Jerry Maguire act for nothing.” 

“He’s that kind of guy, got it.” She giggled. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you.” I joked.

”Hey, Beanie!” Dean called, and I whipped around. 

“What?” I snapped back. 

“Beanie?” Jo whisper-giggled.

”Short story.” 

“C’mere!” Dean yelled again, and I walked over to the two. 

“Whaddya want from me?” I groaned, sitting down. 

“Very courteous, Beanie.” 

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” I drawled. “Sammy, what’re we doing?” 

“Murders, not far from here.” Sam replied, showing me the file. 

“Well, we should probably check that out.” I clicked my tongue. 

“That’s what I told Ellen we’d do.”

“You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?” Dean groaned as he drove my Chevrolet Corvette, Sam in the back with me with the case. 

“Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually.” Sam exhaled sharply. 

“And this family was at some carnival that night?” 

“Right, right. Uh, the Cooper Carnivals.” 

“So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?” 

“Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop.” I explained, looking through sheafs of evidence. “Alibis all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course.” 

“Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam.” Dean smirked. “Why did it have to be clowns?”

”Oh, give me a break.” Sam groaned. 

“You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still burst out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television.” 

“At least I’m not afraid of flying.” 

“Planes crash!” 

“And apparently clowns kill!” 

“And so will I in a second!” I cut in, silencing them both. 

“I’d rather take the plane.” Dean gulped. 

“And me the clown.” Sam whispered. 

“Thank you.” I smiled briefly. “So these types of murders, did they ever happen before?” 

“Uh, a-according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales.” Sam stammered. 

“It's weird, though, I'm mean if it is a spirit it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know, a house, or a town.” Dean frowned, so I pulled a book out of my satchel, flicking through. 

“So how’s this one travelling?” 

“Cursed object, perhaps.” I shrugged, “Spirit attaches itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them. Unlikely, but plausible.”

”Great, paranormal scavenger hunt.” Sam grimaced. 

“Well, this case was your idea.” Dean retorted. “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, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do.” 

“What Dad would’ve wanted?” 

“Yeah? So?” Sam sassed. 

“Nothin’.”

Geez.

We pulled up at the carnival, where the police already were. 

“Watch out.” Dean whistled. “Five-o’s.”

”You’ll be fine.” I assured. “Don’t make a scene, keep your head down and keep walking.”

”Knowing Dean, that’s not gonna happen.” Sam grimaced as we all got out of the car. 

“Ever since she came, you two have been ganging up on me.” Dean grumped. 

“That’s cause I finally get to have a conversation with someone who has common sense.”

”I’m proud not to have common sense, Sammy. I own my flaws.”

”Never say that again.” I laughed. 

“Try me, Beanie.” Dean smirked, whipping my beanie off my head and jamming it onto his own. Sam ran his fingers through my hair a bit, tidying it up, and I gave him a small smile, combing my fingers in the same direction. A three-foot tall clown went by, and Sam stared at it, nervous, and she stared back as well before walking into the distance. “Did you get her number?” 

Sam scowled, looking like a six year old. “More murders?” 

“Twice recently.” I explained. “Ripped to shreds, and a little boy survived, and he was with them.” 

“Who fingered a clown.” Sam finished, getting a weird look from Dean. “What?” 

“So, a clown who just apparently vanished into thin air.” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Dean, you know, looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything.” 

“It’s going to give off EMF.” I mused. 

“So we’ll just scan everything.” Dean added optimistically. 

“Oh, good, that's nice and... inconspicuous.” Sam sighed. 

“We can blend in.” I smirked, gesturing to the ‘Help Wanted’ sign conveniently placed near us. We ventured inside, spotting a man with sunglasses throwing knives on a target, but they didn’t quite hit bullseye. 

“Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?” Dean asked him, and the man turned around. 

“Is that some kinda joke?” He took off his sunglasses, and his eyes had cataracts. Oh damn, he was blind.

”Oh. God, I'm-I'm sorry.” 

“You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?” The blind man growled. 

“Wanna give me some help here?” Dean whispered to Sam. 

“No, not really.” Sam whispered back. 

“Hey man, is there a problem?” A short guy appeared, looking up at Dean with a suspicious expression. 

Trouble’s coming. 

I draped my hair over one shoulder, undid a few of my top buttons, took a tube of lip gloss and touched up my makeup. I dumped my scarf on Sam, who gave me a questioning look.

“Yeah, this guy hates blind people.” The blind man grumbled.

”Do you have a problem?” The man asked Dean. 

Dean chuckled nervously. “No, it’s just a little misunderstanding.” 

“Little?! Son of a-“ 

“Come on, boys, let’s not fight.” I interrupted, gaining the three men’s attention. 

“Who’s she?” Blind man barked. “She sounds pretty.” 

“She is pretty.” Short man replied with a smirk. 

“I’m flattered.” I laughed, faking it. God, this was demeaning. “Now, my friends and I don’t want any trouble. We’re just looking for Mr Cooper. D’you know where to find him?”

“Follow me, sweetheart.” We followed the short man, and Dean regrouped with Sam and I. 

“What the hell?” Dean whispered. “I’m trying to make amends for accidentally offending someone and you just pout your lips?” 

“Perks of being a woman.” I smirked, patting Dean’s shoulder. “It’s easy to charm a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in ages.” 

“That was genius.” Sam chuckled. 

“I know.” We reached the door to Mr Cooper’s office, and we were let in. 

“Mr Cooper?” The short man asked. “You got three new recruits.” We walked in and saw Mr Cooper at his desk. There were three chairs, and one with a clown painted on it. Sam sat down gingerly, while Dean sat looking smug. 

“You boys, and lady, picked a hell of a time to join up.” Cooper grunted.  “We've got all kinds of local trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Dean frowned.

“Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered.” He waved his hand. “Cops always seem to start here first. So, you two ever worked the circuit before?” 

“Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas.” 

“Doing what? Ride jockies? Butcher? ANS men?” 

“Just a little bit of everything, I guess.” Sam shrugged. 

“You lot have never done a show in your lives, have you?” 

“No, we have not, sir.” I admitted. “But my brothers and I do need the money.” I saw a twitch of surprise in Dean’s face, but he masked it pretty well. 

“You see that picture? That's my daddy.” Cooper pointed to a picture. 

“You look just like him, Mr Cooper.” 

“He was in the business. Ran a freakshow. Till they outlawed them, most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress. I guess. You see, this place, it's 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 two point five kids. Live regular.” Cooper turned to me, “And you, little lady, should build a life of your own. You three’re no outcasts.” 

“You’d be surprised.” I laughed. 

Sam leaned forward, serious. “Sir? We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this.” 

“You got assistant manager?” Dean scoffed, picking up rubbish. “How?”

“Perks of being a woman. And downsides of being a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in many decades.” I winked. We both got a phone call, so we picked up. “Hello?” 

‘Hey, guys.’ 

“What’s up, Sammy? You sound like you saw a clown.” Dean frowned. 

‘Very funny. Skeleton, actually.’ 

“Are we talking real human bones?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. 

‘In the funhouse. Listen, I was thinking. What if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object -- what if it's attached to its own remains?’

”Does it give off EMF?” Dean and I asked at the same time. 

‘Well, no, but-’  

“We’ll check it out anyway.” I nodded. 

“We’re coming to you, Sammy.” Dean said before cutting the call. “Did you have to say that at the same time?” 

“Not my fault we think the same way.” I grinned, taking my beanie off Dean and ruffling his hair before pulling it over my head. 

“Bug off.” 

“Make me.” I teased before walking off. I reached Sam, tapping him on the shoulder. “Whatcha got?”

”Nothing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nothing gives off EMF yet.” 

“It will.” I assured. “Just gotta keep your patience.” 

“Easy for you to say.” 

“Hey! It’s hard work, being hit on by a short man!” 

“Fine, fine.” Dean approached us, looking grumpy. “What took you so long?” 

“Long story.”

”Mommy, look at the clown!” We heard a little girl giggle, pointing to nowhere. 

“What clown?” Her mother asked, looking around, then she took the girl’s hand. “Come on, sweetie.”

We exchanged a look; something was up.

”What I want to know,” I whispered angrily, “is why you told Papazian about the killer ghost clown.” We were on a stakeout at the girl’s house, just waiting. 

“I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real.” Dean shrugged. He cocked a gun, but Sam slapped it down. 

”Keep that down!” Sam hissed. 

“Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what.” 

“What?” 

“Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.” 

“So Cooper brought the spirit with him?” I mused.

”Something like that.” Dean shook his head, sighing. “I can't believe we keep talking about clowns.” 

“Nobody can.” I grimaced. “Alright, let’s keep watch. Nobody close their eyes.” 

Dean fell asleep. 

At around midnight, we saw the girl go over to the door, opening it. “Wanna come and play?” The clown entered with her, and we jolted Dean awake, dragging him with us. We broke in, waiting in the hallway. “Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs.” As soon as the clown and the girl came in sight, I rushed forward, taking her out of the clown’s grip. She started screaming, but I loosened my grip. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I whispered. She quietened down, but then Dean shot the clown and she hugged me, crying. 

“Dean, watch out!” Sam yelled, and the clown escaped. 

“I’ve got you.” I murmured, stroking the girl’s back. “Don’t worry.”

”What's going on here?” The father ran down the stairs, his eyes widening when he saw his daughter hugging me. “Get away from my-“ 

Her mother ran down too, gasping. “Oh my god, what are you doing to my daughter?!” 

“Who the hell are you? Get out! Get out of my house!” Sam and Dean fled, but I breathed shakily, frozen for a moment. 

“Mommy, Daddy, the man shot my clown!” The girl cried, then pointed to me. “She saved me!” 

“You saved my daughter.” The mother sobbed, hugging me. “Thank you.” 

“How can we repay you?” The dad asked, picking his daughter up. 

“I- you don’t n-need to.” I stammered. “I know what it’s like to not be protected when you need it. My parents weren’t exactly there, so she’s lucky to have you.” 

“We’re lucky that you were there.” The mother smiled. 

And that’s how I ended up leaving with food. 

I trudged over to the car, where Dean and Sam were waiting. 

“Where were you?” Sam sighed in relief upon seeing me, unfolding his arms. 

“We couldn’t get in cause you have the keys!” Dean grumped. 

“Can I console you with food?” I held up the food, and they stared at me. 

“Uh… how? Why?” 

“The little girl told her parents that I saved her from you two.” I chuckled nervously. “They asked me how they could repay me and I told them they didn’t have to, but they sent me with food and a large flask of cocoa.” 

“Beanie, I’ve never appreciated you so much until this day.” Dean grinned. 

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Do you think they got the plate?” Dean asked while munching on a sandwich. 

“Nope.” I smirked. “Covered the plate when we got here. Then I whipped it off before we left, so it’s unlikely they saw anything. But I’ve been thinking. One thing's for sure.” 

“What is?” Sam asked, also eating a sandwich.

”We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid.” 

“Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?” 

“Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks?” Dean scoffed. “Did it say anything in Dad's journal?” 

Sam flicked through it, eyebrows furrowed. “Nope.” 

I pulled out my phone, dialling a number and holding it to my ear. 

“Who’re you callin’?” Dean asked. 

“Jo.” I replied, getting out of the car, then she picked the call up. 

‘Hello?’ 

“Hey, Jo, it’s Ivvy.” 

‘Oh, hey! Whatcha need?’

”The boys and I just finished a stakeout at a girl’s house because she came into contact with the clown. Dean shot it, but it was solid. Is Ash back with his evidence?” 

‘Yeah. Lemme pass the phone to him.’

’Hey, pretty lady.’

’Ash!’

’I’m kidding! Anyway, I think what you’re lookin’ for is called a Rakshasa. An ancient demon from Hindu mythology. It takes on a human form, feeds on human flesh and can’t enter a home unless invited. They sleep on a bed of dead insects and wake up around every twenty to thirty years. Sounds accurate.’ 

“How do you kill it?”

‘Blade made of pure brass. That’s our best guess.’ Ellen cut in. ‘If it’s right, you’re welcome; if it’s wrong, see you on the other side.’ 

“I’ll make sure to tell you if it worked.” I laughed. “Alright, see you guys.” 

‘Bye!’ I cut the call, climbing back in. Dean and Sam looked grumpier, and I raised my eyebrow. 

“Did you two fight again?” 

“No.” Dean grumbled, and I turned to Sam. 

“Sammy?” 

“No.” He replied a lot more civilly. 

“The moment I leave.” I grimaced.

”What did Ellen say?” Sam asked. 

“What we’re looking for, they said, might be a Rakshasa. Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited.“ 

“So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite 'em in.” Dean mused. 

“Pretty much sums it up.” 

“Why don't they just munch on the kids?” 

“Not enough meat on the bones?” Sam theorised. 

“What else did you find out?” 

“A Rakshasa sleeps on a bed of dead insects and wakes up to feed every twenty to thirty years.” 

“Well, that makes sense.” Dean nodded. “I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81.” 

“Probably more before that.” Sam breathed. 

“Who do we know that worked both shows, boys?” I smirked. 

“Cooper.” 

“Cooper.” Dean added. 

“You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him.” 

“What if it is him?” 

“Can’t rule it out.” I shrugged. “Who knows how old he is?” 

“Ellen say how to kill him?” 

“Legend says a dagger made of pure brass.” 

“I know where to get one of those.”

”Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure it's him.” Sam frowned. 

“You’re such a stickler for details, Sammy.” Dean teased, making Sam smile. “All right, I'll round up the blade, Beanie, you’ll keep watch and you go check if Cooper's got bedbugs.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” I grinned, patting them on the shoulders. 

“Let’s do this.”

I waited outside, one hand on the gun in my jacket, maybe as reassurance that it was still there. 

“Look, Mommy, it’s her!” I heard, and the little girl ran up to me, paired with her parents. 

“Hey, uh, didn’t expect to see you guys again.” I chuckled nervously, raising my hand. 

“And we never got your name.” Her mother smiled while I shook her father’s hand. 

“My name’s, um, Lily.” I lied, thinking quickly. “Lily Carter.” 

“I’m Audrey Teyman.” She introduced. “This is my husband James, and this little girl is also Lily.” My breath caught in my throat, but I stomached it, bending down to Lily. 

“You’re a Lily too, huh?” I smiled.

”Yeah!” She giggled. “You’re just like me.” 

“Yeah, I’m just like you.” I heard some yelling, so I had to think quickly again. “Tell you what?” I pulled out some money and gave it to her. “Spend it on anything you want. But not too much sweets, you get me?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Pinky promise?” I held out my little finger and she wrapped hers around mine before giving me a hug. I stood up to face her parents. 

“You’re too generous.” James smiled. 

“It’s nothin’.” I shook my head. “Now you go, Lily, and spend that money right, okay?” 

“Okay!” Lily gave me a toothy grin. 

“We’d better get going. It was lovely meeting you again, Miss Carter.” They left, and I immediately ran to the source of the commotion. 

“Dean!” I yelled, trying the door handle. 

“Beanie, thank god!” Dean shouted from the inside, and I shot the door handle, opening it just in time for Dean to tumble out. 

“Are you ok?!” 

“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t stepped in.” He leaned his forehead against mine, a relieved grin on his face, but his eyes were closed. 

“Dean! Ivonne!” Sam ran up to us, and we both got up, walking over. 

“Sammy!”

”So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him.” 

“We’ve figured that part out. It’s the blind guy. He's here somewhere.”

“Did you get the brass blades?” 

“No, no, it’s been one of those days.” 

“We can’t have one of those days.” I grimaced. “We’re probably now on the Rakshasa’s most wanted list. We have to kill it.” 

“I’ve got an idea.” Sam nodded, “Follow me.” We ran to the funhouse, and when we were there I pulled out my gun. “Dean, Ivonne, find the maze, now!” We ran in, my gun held up while I heard every single sound around me. 

“Can you stop walking so loud?!” I whispered to Dean, who stopped. 

“I’m heavy footed!” He argued quietly.

“Our lives are on the line here!” 

“Fine!” We found the maze and came back to Sam. 

“Where is it?” Sam asked frantically. 

“I don’t know.” Dean fretted. “Will we see its clothes when it’s walking around, or..?” 

“Probably not.” I frowned, then a knife flew past Dean, pinning his sleeve to the wall. Another pinned his wrist to the wall. 

“Sam!” Sam pulled the pipe off the wall, stalking around slowly. Then a knife almost chipped him in the head, but he dodged in time. 

“Dean, where is it?” Sam called. 

“I don’t know!” A knife flew through the air, and I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, followed by my body reacting to absorb the shock. I held my hand to my stomach, and when I drew it back, I saw blood. 

A knife was in my stomach. 

“Beanie!” Dean yelled, then pulled a lever, making steam gush out of the organ and show the outline of the body. 

“Over here!” I held up my hand and caught the pipe, sticking it as far as I could into the Rakshasa. It bled, and slowly disappeared, while I collapsed onto the floor and sat against the wall, leaning my head against it. Dean got the knives off his sleeves and rushed over to me, both brothers kneeling down. 

“Don’t you close your eyes, Ivonne.” Dean ordered, tilting my head up to face him. “Don’t you dare.”

”We’ll get you an ambulance.” Sam fretted, trying to assess the wound. 

“I’m not closing my eyes anytime soon.” I coughed, wincing a little at the pain. “I’ll be damned and given a one way ticket to hell if I do.” 

“You’re not going there.” Dean assured. “I ain’t gonna let you.”

”So considerate.” I smirked. 

“So mouthy, even with a knife in you.”

”Knife wounds won’t stop me from getting a dig in.”

”I was kind of hopin’ that you’d stay back.” Jo smiled giving me a once over. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

“Of course.” I chuckled. “I’ve got these two knuckleheads.” 

“Those two knuckleheads couldn’t save you from a flying knife.” 

“One was trapped by one, the other dodging one. I can only blame my reflexes.” 

“Just be careful out there.” Ellen chastised, handing me some bandages. “I wouldn’t want a knife to hit your heart next time.” 

“I guarantee you, Ellen, there’s no way in hell I’d let that happen.” 

“But we’re not in hell.” She frowned. “I’ve known you since you were a newborn, Ivonne. What happened to your family was terrible, and it could happen again.” 

“I think this time is different.” I smiled. “If not, I know who to call.” 

“You better.” Jo hugged me. “I’ll be waiting everyday. If you won’t call me for a while, I’m busting down your door and I’m gonna kill those two myself.” 

“Jo, that’s my job.” I joked, inciting a laugh. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Oh, I’ve got something to give you.” Ellen hurried to her drawer, taking out a necklace. “It was your father’s gift to your mother when they didn’t start becoming so… distant. I think it’d look wonderful on you.” I took it, admiring the shimmering green stone. 

“It would. Thanks, Ellen.”

”No problem.”

A day later, I was told that I’d be fine, so we were back at my house. Dean and Sam insisted that I stayed in bed while they brought me food and breakfast, but I did have to get in some walking. 

“Knock knock.” Sam grinned. 

“Hey, Sammy.” I smiled, sitting up a bit. “C’mon in.” 

Sam sat down next to me, looking intently. “How have you been?”

”I could be worse.” I chuckled. “Dude was good at his craft.”

”He was.” Pause. “But there’s something else.”

“What is it?” I frowned.

”What you said to Dean stuck with me. I’m not closing my eyes anytime soon. I’ll be damned and given a one-way ticket to hell if I do.” He repeated. “It seemed so genuine. Did something happen to you or someone in your family?”

”That’s a story for another day.” I refused politely. “For now, all I can say is that it’s my fault.”

”I don’t think it was.” Sam smiled, then kissed me on the forehead. “G’night, Ivonne.”

”Call me Ivy, Sammy.” I offered.

”G’night, Ivy.”

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