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cloverhighfivewritestoo · 4 years

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Feline Fine - OC version

👉Read this on Ao3 Tumblr - 👉female!reader insert 👉male!reader insert (fluff only)

21k [divided in 12 chapters + epilogue]

Dean x Female!OC (Sarah) (established), Sam, other original characters (villains, victims and such).

Case fic – Dean has gone missing. While Sam and Sarah are trying to figure out what’s happened, a panther turns up on the bunker’s doorstep. Meanwhile, bodies are turning up a few towns over. There seems to be all sorts of various villains working together (or not?). What the hell is going on?

Warnings – Fluff. Smut optional : if you’re not into smut, just stop at the nice fancy border break. If you’re only into smut, well... you know where it is, now. Haha!

Extra/Prompt – This fanfic was first published in August 2018 (my first “big” fic), because @waywardbaby and @imma-winchester-addict were comparing Dean to a cat. Now this is the female!OC version, for @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover

1. Missing

Sarah woke up late in the morning to an empty bed. Dean had probably woken up early and had even made his side of the bed. “Awww,” Sarah thought to herself lovingly, “he’s so sweet.”

Sarah went through her morning routine, dressed up in jeans and a t-shirt, and headed to the kitchen.

“Hey Sam, already deep in research?”

Sam didn’t look up. “Yeah, I found a probable case a few towns over. I’m getting more info.”

“Cool. It’ll be fun to kill something. I’m bored.”

Sam darted a concerned gaze at Sarah. Sarah shrugged.

Sarah shuffled to the fridge, took out some stuff, shuffled to the toaster, waited for the toast, put some stuff on the toast, poured a cup of coffee, shuffled to the table, sat down like she weighted a ton and started chewing on her toast.

Sam had looked at her the whole time, his expression unreadable.

“What?” Sarah enquired.

“Dean’s still sleeping? It’s pretty late. Is he OK?”

“I dunno where Dean is. He was gone when I got up. You didn’t see him?”

“No…” Sam looked annoyed. “Let’s call him.” He took his phone out and dialed.

Sarah slurped her coffee. “Don’t you think it’s a bit overdramatic to call him, like, right now? I mean, it’s just 10 a.m., he’s probably gone on a food run or something.”

The phone rang and nobody picked up. It went to voicemail. Sam looked at Sarah and let out an annoyed sigh just before leaving a message. He hung up and looked at Sarah. “A food run? The fridge is full.”

“I said: Or something. Come on. The guy is a freaking menace to just about anything that’s out there. He can handle a run in town.” Sarah smirked at Sam’s very annoyed frown.

Sam went back to his computer, Sarah went back to her breakfast. They sat in silence between her chewing and slurping sounds, and Sam’s typing on the laptop.

While Sarah was cleaning her dishes, she turned to Sam, “Hey, I’m gonna head to town as well, I need new boots. Do you need something?”

“I need Dean to come back so we can head out for this case here. I have all the info we need.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Alright. Well, I won’t be long anyway, so maybe Dean and I will be back at the same time or maybe I’ll even bump into him. I’m taking the motorcycle.”

“OK. I’ll go for a little jog then. Since I have time.”

“Be my guest.”

Sarah got out of the bunker on the bike, passed the Impala that was parked outside in front of the bunker’s door, and…

Wait. What?

The Impala is here, that means Dean is back!

Sam got out of the bunker in jogging attire. “Hey, you’re still here?”

Sarah gestured to the car. “The Impala’s here. You saw Dean inside?”

“No…”

Sarah drove by the hood, put her hand on to feel it. “The car is cold. It must have been here the whole time. And no other car is missing from the garage.”

Sam’s gears were running. “Something’s off.”

Sarah turned off the bike and took her helmet off. They looked around. No one. She got her hand on her gun and called out. “DEAN?!!” No answer. They looked around again. Listened. Nothing.

“Call him again.”

Sam reached for his phone, and, while looking down at it while dialing, something caught his eye on the ground. He reached down and picked up “The keys. They were…”

Sam and Sarah looked at each other, panic rising in their eyes.

The call went to voicemail.

“Shit.”

Back in the bunker, Sam was trying to piece together what they knew, pacing about the room. “OK, so, when’s the last time you saw him?”

“Um… Come to think of it… I don’t remember him coming to bed last night. And I slept right through. Wait. His side of the bed was made this morning… Maybe… Maybe he didn’t come in at all.”

“Damn. So… That means, the last time you saw him is…?”

“Last night, we were all here in the library, he went out to fetch something in the car, remember?”

“Yeah, just as we were calling it a night.”

“Exactly.”

“You didn’t worry when he didn’t come back?”

“Well our training in the afternoon was a bit challenging. So I pretty much passed out.”

“Yeah… Me too. Went out like a light.”

“I’m going to look for more clues outside.” Sarah headed out, followed by Sam, who tried Dean’s phone again – to voicemail.

The day would be busy and stressful. They’d found tracks outside that didn’t match any of the vehicles from the bunker nor the car from the pizza boy, but couldn’t deduct much from it, except the brand of tires and about 30 types of cars they could be on. They’d found footprints that didn’t match any of the footwear from the boys nor Sarah, but all they could figure out was they were from 3 different people.

Sam had gone into town to ask around while Sarah waited at the bunker, checking whatnots on the laptop. Every call to Dean’s phone invariably went to voicemail. Nothing turned up in town, nothing turned up on the computer.

2. Finding

Early the following afternoon, Sam came in from driving around the countryside. He called from the top of the stairs. “Sarah? YOU HERE?”

Sarah called from the kitchen, “YEAH! HEEERE!”

Sam called again. “COME HERE YOU GOTTA SEE THIS!”

“IS IT DEAN?” Sarah called, as she ran to the stairs.

“No,” Sam said, somewhere between anxious and surprised, while she climbed the stairs, “um… just… come out with me.” He opened the door, Sarah behind him. “Just… be calm, be careful, no sudden moves.”

Sarah raised her eyebrows. “What?”

Sam made an impatient gesture. “Just… Just… Trust me on this.” He opened the door to the outside. They stepped out and stood there, right by the door, transfixed.

A magnificent panther was lying lazily in front of the Impala. When it saw Sam and Sarah come out, it quickly sat up, curled its tail around itself and fixed its gaze upon them. It seemed it had stopped moving. It seemed it had stopped breathing.

Sarah spoke softly to Sam, as if she didn’t want the panther to hear. “Should we call the nature rangers or what’s their name…”

Sam spoke the same way, trying to conceal his words. “Panthers are not endemic to Kansas, Sarah.”

“So…?”

“So it’s not a wild animal. It’s either from a zoo or it’s someone’s pet.” They looked at the big cat in silence, who looked back at them, going from Sam, to Sarah, and Sam. Sam added, “I don’t know… Look at it. It seems to be here for a reason… if that doesn’t sound too… weird.”

Again, some mutual staring.

Sarah whispered, “Did you notice the panther looking at me when I talk and then looking at you when you talk?”

“Yes…”

“It just did it again.”

“Yes…”

The panther took a deep breath, let it out, looked up, blinked, and fixed Sam and Sarah again.

“Did it… sigh at us?” Sam remarked.

The panther got up, paced in a circle, head low, throwing glances sideways at Sam and Sarah, then resumed its sitting position. It let out another sigh.

“It can sigh all it wants, I don’t know what to do with a panther. Maybe we should call a veterinarian,” Sarah suggested, “they’ll know what to do.”

The panther growled.

Sam and Sarah took a step back, but bumped into the wall behind them.

The panther got up, walked deliberately, slowly towards Sam and Sarah, its gaze going from one to the other. Stuck between surprise, curiosity and sheer panic, Sam and Sarah couldn’t move.

About halfway, the panther stopped dead in its tracks, eyes wide. Sam and Sarah didn’t move. The panther closed its eyes, shook its head. Sam and Sarah looked at each other sideways, and, seeing they both had no clue what was going on, quickly turned their attention back to the panther.

It was scratching the ground. It turned this way and that and seemed to have a purpose to its scratching. It took a minute or two.

It then looked at Sam and Sarah, looked to the ground, stepped back a bit, did it again, and retreated a few meters away. It layed down and looked back and forth between the scratchings and Sam and Sarah.

Sam was the first to catch on. “Um, I think we should go look at the scratches.”

“What?”

“Come on.”

“What??” But Sarah followed.

I’m Dean, dumbasses.

Sam’s first reaction was surprise, but one look at the panther and he made an annoyed frown and a sigh in no specific direction. He then looked at Sarah.

She, on the other hand, had her mouth open in disbelief. She turned to the panther. “You… what??”

The panther looked at her and blinked. And it… purred? She turned to Sam. “Did you hear it purr?” She turned to the panther. “Are you purring?”

Sam looked at the panther. “So you’re Dean.” The panther nodded.

“OH FUCK IT NODDED.” Sarah screamed.

Sam jumped. He took Sarah by the shoulders. “Calm down! It’s DEAN.”

“But it nodded! The panther nodded!”

“Yes, because it’s Dean.”

“How can you be sure it’s Dean? Anybody could write ‘I’m Dean’. We just have to believe the cat?”

Sam couldn’t believe he just heard someone say ‘We just have to believe the cat’.

Sarah pressed on, talking too fast. “Well, a cat who knows how to write, sure, it’s weird, but we’re used to weird, so ok, I can get that, but then, the next logical thing – if we want to bother with logic – is we have to believe everything just because we accept that the cat maybe has a human inside?”

The panther growled. Sam shot a look at it and came back to Sarah. “Do you think anyone but Dean could call us dumbasses while trying to get us to help him?”

Sarah froze, thinking about what Sam said. She looked at the panther, who was lying down and looking calmly yet intensely at her. Then, suddenly, she relaxed. Sam let go of her shoulders. The panther got up and walked towards her. She waited quietly. The panther sat right in front of her and looked up.

“Dean… is it really you…”

He made a soft nod, blinked, and purred. She couldn’t help but run her hand in his fur on his head. He was so soft... He closed his eyes and pushed against her hand so she’d continue, but she stopped. “Good lord. What happened?” Dean shook his head. He let out a sigh, looking in the distance. His face became angry and he growled at the horizon.

She looked at him. The panther – Dean – was huge. Sitting straight, his head came almost chest high with Sarah. His fur was black, his eyes green, surprisingly close to the green of his own eyes. He licked his nose and his mouth, revealing impressive fangs. He cocked his head and waited. Sarah noticed the fur was matted on his neck. She approached a hand to check, but Dean, as a reflex, moved just out of reach. “You’re hurt…” Dean kept out of reach, looking at her sideways, flattening his ears. “Come on, let me look.” He slowly got closer. She bent down a little and, very gently, touched the fur where it was matted. “OK, it doesn’t look so bad. Come inside, we’ll take care of it.”

While Sarah was cleaning Dean’s wound, Sam was thinking out loud. “Of course, you can’t talk, but we really need to know what’s going on, cause… well, look at you.” Dean let out a huff. “Communicating with you is going to be a challenge.” Dean let out another huff.

“Alright, all clean.” Sarah announced, putting the wet cloth away. “I can’t do more than that. It’s not like I can put a band-aid on it or anything. So it’ll have to heal on its own. It’s not that bad, really.” Dean closed his eyes and rubbed his head against Sarah, purring.

Sarah got up and went to the fridge. “I don’t know about you, Sam, but I need a drink.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Dean bounced his way to Sarah, and leaned his weight against her. “Oh dear, you must be hungry.” Dean licked his mouth and looked up. “Alright, what do you want?” Dean cut in front of Sarah and stretched his panther body up on its hind legs. He surveyed the fridge and grabbed a few things – all meat. “Duh, of course,” Sarah said, laughing. She grabbed a beer.

3. Talking

Sam tried to find a way to communicate with Dean. It was frustrating for both of them. Sam tried to come up with yes/no questions, but invariably diverged with more complex ones. Meanwhile, Sarah thought it was a bit funny, what with Dean having sat his panther self on a chair – like a cat would – opposite Sam at the table. Sam was actually having a conversation with a cat, or trying to, at least. Dean did the best he could to be as expressive as possible, but still, they weren’t words.

“OK, we’ll go through the creatures. Yes or no.”

Blink.

“Was it a Wendigo?”

Stare.

“Come on, we’ll be thorough, so we’ll know for sure.”

Stare.

“Dean… Wendigo?”

Eyes to the skies, shake of the head. No.

“Werewolf?”

Stare. Intense.

“Dean.”

He opened his eyes wide, made a point of looking at himself, and looked back at Sam with the same wide eyes, shaking his head once. No. Idiot. I’m a fucking cat.

“OK, I’ll go with the probably more obvious.”

Eyeroll. Repositioning. Straight, solid, ready.

“Witch?”

Teeth bared – which was more frightening than what Dean thought was a smile. A vigorous nod. Yes!

Watching them, Sarah remembered the potion the boys had told her about when they were on a case where the only witness was a dog, allowing Dean to understand the dog. It seemed strange Sam didn’t think of it. Probably the stress. She asked Sam where their father’s journal was and went off.

“So you escaped!”

Nod. Yes.

“They didn’t actually let you go.”

Shake. No.

“Where had they taken you?”

Nod. Yes.

“Yes???”

Eyes half closed, shoulders slumped. Idiot.

“Oh. Yeah. Um.”

Head turned to the side, sideways look. Yeah? And what now?

Sam got up. “Lemme get a map.”

Dean nodded and repositioned on the chair. Being a panther was not easy; that big four-legged body wasn’t made for chairs. Or, chairs weren’t made for big four-legged bodies. He hopped on the table and laid down.

Sarah came back to the table with 2 glasses filled halfway with a brownish red unappetizing liquid. She snipped some fur from Dean, who perked up. He smiled as she put fur in both glasses and stirred – he remembered the foul taste of the potion.

Sam came back with the map. He saw the glasses. “What’s this?”

“Remember when Dean had to mind-meld with a dog for a case?” She smiled a big, proud smile.

Sam’s shoulders dropped. He made the most flat expression Sarah had ever seen. “I cannot believe I forgot that.”

Sarah raised her glass. “Cheers!” They drank and said the incantation.

Dean loved watching them wince and blergh at the taste. Pussies. He had just downed it like a man.

Dean purred, growled and looked bored until Sam and Sarah heard, “Sam likes to wax his legs. Sam has lady shampoo. Sam doesn’t watch porn cause he doesn’t understand the plot. Sam –“ “HEY!” Sam was not amused. Sarah was laughing. Dean brightened. “Oh, so the potion is working! Good.”

“So do tell us, Dean,” said Sarah.

“I got out of the bunker and got jumped by 3 witches, all women. Couldn’t see their face. They cast some spell on me and I woke up locked in a cage, with a panther in another cage next to me. The witches cut me and the panther for some blood and did some ritual. I woke up looking at myself in the other cage… I was into the panther. So that meant the panther was in me.”

Dean went on telling how the panther in its new body didn’t know what to make of it, and so it was thrashing about violently. Dean, on the other hand, sat still, watching his body being flung about, bruised and cut. He had listened to his voice screaming. He’d felt genuinely worried. But then the witches had come, cast a spell on Dean’s body and taken it elsewhere. They’d left Dean-in-panther alone.

The panther body being much more stronger than a man’s, Dean-in-panther had tried its strength to its full force in trying to pry the cage open – which had worked. And thus he’d escaped. It was dark but he saw he had been kept in a shack in the woods that didn’t seem to be connected to the road. He mostly kept to the forest as much as he could on his way to the bunker. He had a vague idea of where he had been taken, and so he pointed to it on the map.

He didn’t know what the witches’ plan was, but, while the ritual was being prepared, he had heard a name: Brandon Hatley.

Sam drummed his fingers on the table. Everyone was deep in thought. Dean licked his paw.

Sarah looked at Dean, slightly surprised. “Um, I know you’re basically a cat, but… you feel the need to lick yourself?”

Dean’s eyes widened and he stopped his move, with his tongue still out, halfway through a lick. He looked up at Sarah, put his paw down, licked his nose and let out a low huff. He looked up at her. “You don’t? Cause when I did the mind-meld with the dog, I was acting a lot like a dog.”

Sam remembered. “It’s true. And yet… I don’t feel any feline urge.” “Me neither,” said Sarah. They turned to Dean. “Hey, don’t look at me, I don’t know.”

Sam suggested, “Maybe because his mind is not a cat’s mind… maybe because there’s the two of us on the same spell, so it kind of dilutes it… maybe…”

“Maybe we’re just not as receptive as Dean was,” said Sarah. She added, “Sam, do you feel like a beer? Pizza? Porn?”

Sam was confused. “No. What? No…. What?”

“Me neither,” Sarah said, “so that means we’re not mind-melding with Dean either.”

Sam let out a sigh. “Thanks for that.”

4. Researching

Sam got up, got the laptop and came back. “OK, Brandon Hatley…”

While he was typing, Sarah pulled the map to her side of the table. “Hey, Sam, where was the case you found yesterday morning?”

Sam crooked his neck and pointed to a town. Sarah and Dean looked down. “Uhn, it’s as far as where Dean was taken, but… right on the other side of us. Hmm… That’s weird.”

Dean interjected. “What? What are you saying? What case?”

Sarah just continued. “I don’t know… Seems too much of a coincidence, a case to work on in exactly the opposite direction, and about the same distance, the day Dean was taken. It’s too… clean. Too symmetrical.”

“Huh, weird indeed,” said Sam. “As for the info I gathered, the deaths were sudden. There were no previous open cases in the area or deaths that fit the pattern.”

Dean asked again. “What case?”

Sarah looked at him. “Yeah, he didn’t tell me either. Things kind of happened fast.”

Sam didn’t look up from the computer. “Something that looked like vampires. Sloppy ones. Or sloppy, just the one. We had yet to find out. OK. So now, Hatley –”

Without any warning, Dean jumped off the table and walked towards the staircase. Sarah and Sam gave a start. “Dean!” cried Sam, “What are you doing?”

Dean stopped, turned around. “To go get the vampire! Come on!”

Sarah objected. “Dean! We have to work your case. We’re not going off on a vampire hunt right now!”

But Sam knew how Dean felt, from years of saving people. “No, Sarah, he’s right. And if it’s a lone vampire, it’s a milk run. We’ll be in and out in a flash.”

“Plus,” Dean said, “since I’m stuck in this cat for a while, I wanna try it out. It’s really strong. I hear really good. And I can see in the dark!” He sat and smiled.

“Babe,” said Sarah, “when you smile like that, you’re rather terrifying.”

“Oh, come on!”

“And,” she added, a slight panic in her voice, “what do you mean, ‘stuck in a cat for a while’? No, no, no! How can you talk about milk runs? We have to switch Dean back! What if he’s stuck in there forever?” She was really panicking now.

Sam and Dean looked at each other blankly. Dean got up and walked over to Sarah, rubbing his head against her tummy. “Hey, sweetie, we’ll figure it out.” He looked up at her. “But we gotta save people, you know? I swear, it’s going to be real quick.”

“But… the Hatley dude… we have a lead…”

“Alright, alright,” said Sam. “Here, let me tell you what I’ve got on Hatley.” Sarah and Dean came back to the table.

“Hatley. Interesting. The man is the owner of about half the town where the vampire case is. He owns a lot of property and he is the chair of the local industry.”

“So… he’s killing off competition?” asked Sarah.

“Doesn’t seem like it at all. For the real estate, I pulled some records: the tenant turnover is normal, no outstanding deaths – except the ones for the case – and everything seems normal tax-wise. The acquisitions were made at various times over 30 years, with more investments in the last 20. As for the local industry, there doesn’t seem to be anything fishy either.”

“And you call that interesting,” said Dean, flatly.

“Well, not the fact that nothing stands out –”

“Except the deaths. Those stand out.”

“Yeah, but it’s the guy the witches talked about, and it’s the town with the vampire deaths. That’s interesting. But I see no motive. So it might not be him behind this, or it might be something else the witches were talking about, not related to our problem.”

Dean shook his head. “With us, it’s always related.”

“Yeah.”

Sarah was thinking out loud. “OK. It’s all related… 30 years, uhn?”

“Yeah.”

“So the man is, at bare minimum, 50.”

“He’s 62.”

“Hmm… What could a 62-year-old man with fortune and power in a quiet town want with witches? And,” she said, looking at the panther, “with Dean? And how does the vampire fit in?”

Dean offered, “Maybe he pissed off the witches and they sent the vampire to piss him off.”

Sam sat back in his chair. “Witches don’t do that. They’d curse him or something.”

“Then I have no idea where the vampire comes in,” said Sarah.

“Me neither.”

They looked at Dean. He shook his head – he had no idea either.

Sam spoke up. “Well, at least we can take the opportunity to talk to Hatley while in town, so there’s that.”

They all agreed.

It had been decided they’d go on the vampire case later, when it’ll be dark, as to not arise suspition driving around with a panther. They could at least wipe that fiend off while they figure things out. They ate, and, since they had a couple hours left before sundown, they turned in for a nap.

Sarah got in the bedroom, followed by a nonchalant Dean. She sat on the bed, took her boots off. Dean hopped on the bed.

"What are you... You're not thinking of sleeping on the bed."

Dean cocked his head, looked around at the bed, then back at Sarah.

"Come on, you're too big. And you're going to get cat hair all over the sheets. You know how you hate that."

Dean squinted, and flopped down on the bed, his back to her. He was taking up quite a bit of space indeed – and clearly made a point of taking up all the space he could.

Sarah shook her head, got under the sheets fully dressed, tried to get comfortable.

"Deaaaan... you're really too big."

She heard jerky huffs. "Are you... laughing?"

He lifted his head “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that…” He laughed again.

"Idiot. Come on, scoot..."

“Hey, don’t tell me you don’t want a piece of this fine feline ass…” He winked. “You know this tongue is rough, I could – “

“Oh my god, Dean! No!” She slapped him – which couldn’t hurt him. “Scoot, idiot!” She pushed him – not that it made him move at all.

Dean laughed and he obliged. Sarah tossed and turned a bit and, as soon as she quieted down, noticed the soft breathing from the panther next to her. She scooted over and put an arm around him, burying her face in his fur. She fell asleep to the rhythm of Dean's feline body taking the air in and out.

5. Hunting

As the sun was setting, they took off in the Impala.

Sarah was driving. “I can’t believe I’m driving.”

“Haha! Enjoy! I can’t believe I’m in the back seat,” Sam said, not without sarcasm.

“Ah, that’s what you get for being a giant,” said Dean.

Sam shook his head, amused. “I can’t believe Dean managed to call shotgun.”

“What, you’re surprised?” Sarah said, laughing, while Dean bared his fangs – again, in an attempt to smile. He was lounging comfortably, taking almost all the space left on the front seat.

En route, Sam explained how sloppy the vampire was – or the vampires were. “Look, all the deaths follow a simple pattern. It’s the first apartment from the lowest street number of all the apartment buildings Hatley owns. Then, apartment #2 from the next lowest address, and so on.”

“What do you mean, and so on? How many deaths were there?” asked Sarah.

“Yesterday morning, there was 2. Now, there’s 4. Again, a pattern. So, tonight, we should be able to stop murders 5 and 6, hopefully.”

“It’s really a milk run,” Sarah reflected.

“From the reports, it seems like a vampire attack, but we’ll have to break into the morgue first to check and make sure.”

“Yippee.”

When they got to their destination, they headed for the morgue. Dean agreed to stay in the car while Sam and Sarah went it to check on the corpses. They came back out 10 minutes later with answers. Yes, it was a vampire, and just the one. The teeth marks were all identical.

They headed to the next address on Sam's list of Hatley-owned apartment buildings. Sarah first passed by slowly. Everything was quiet. She turned and parked the car. The three of them surveyed the place.

"Which apartment is it?" Sarah asked.

"If it follows the pattern, it's #5."

She counted, pointing right to left and going up, "...#1, #2, #3, #4... #5 should be 3rd floor left, then."

"Right."

Three pairs of eyes fixed the dark patio door.

"Yeah... Maybe we should go inside and wait for the vamp?"

Sam grabbed the door handle. "Yep."

"Wait... What about Dean?"

Dean put a paw on his door handle. “Oh, I’m coming.”

Sam frowned. "I'm not sure if you should come, Dean."

“What?” said Dean. “You know I am stronger than you, I hear and see better than you. And…” Dean put a paw up and slowly revealed his claws. Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh shit. Wow. That's one hell of a good argument, too."

"Alright." Sarah got out and Sam let Dean out.

Once they were in front of apartment #5, Sam put his ear to the door.

Sarah whispered, “What are you listening for?”

“If I can hear snoring or something.”

“And?”

Sam held his breath. After a moment, he let it out. “Nothing.”

Sarah turned to Dean. “And?”

Dean’s head snapped around and his ears perked up.

Sam and Sarah looked around, but there was nothing to see – or hear. They looked at Dean enquiringly. Dean turned and got on the next stair landing in two bounds. Sarah let out a “Oh, shhhhhiii-” and both her and Sam followed.

The next minute they heard the front door open and footsteps coming up.

Dean had positioned himself in front of Sam and Sarah. Crouching on the floor, shoulder blades standing out, the tip of his tail wagging, he was observing below between the stairs.

The vampire could hear every heartbeat in the building. He could hear everyone breathing or snoring. But it was only when he’d got to the apartment door that he realized some heartbeats and breathing didn’t come from behind a door. The moment he’d whip his head around in exactly the trio’s direction, Dean rushed down the stairs and attacked.

The vampire was as much a predator as Dean. The surprise of being attacked by a panther didn’t phase it. It clawed, hit and bit Dean, trying to pin him down to finish him. Dean struck it with a swift blow with his claws out, ripping the vampire’s flesh on its chest. He clawed at its chest and face a few more times until it was gushing blood from every wound, then pinned it down and bent to rip its neck to finish it. Sarah screamed as she and Sam ran down : “NO! DON’T BITE!!”

Dean turned to them, squinting, ears flipped back. “What?” The vampire was too damaged to have the strength to push Dean off. It was bleeding out. It still hit him feebly.

Sarah said, as Sam got his machete ready, “Don’t bite him. He’s bit you and if you drink his blood, you’ll – “

Dean’s eyes widened. He looked at the vampire and took a step back.

Sam asked Dean, “Is it too damaged to talk?” Dean shook his head. “Yeah… I think I tore into it a little too much. Sorry.” Sam sighed. And he cut its head.

Behind a door, they heard a loud and panicked “OH MY GOD”. All three snapped their heads up, looked at each other and in the direction of either door.

Sam nodded at Sarah and Dean. “I got this.” And, a bit louder, “It’s fine. We’re FBI. We were tracking the killer responsible for the murders of the last 2 days.” He gestured at Sarah. They took their badges out, showed them towards one door, then the other.

“Is that a panther?” came from apartment #5.

Sam sighed. His brow was furrowed. “Well, um, yes. It’s trained.” Dean sat with a thud and looked at Sam his eyes half-closed. Sam continued, “We’re a very specialized branch of FBI. New methods. The panther is not dangerous to you.”

“Holy fuck! You cut that guy’s head off!!”, came from apartment #6. All three sighed.

“Look, stay inside your apartments, we’re cleaning up and leaving. You’re safe now.”

Two weak “OK” came from behind both doors.

Back in the car, they regrouped.

Sarah started. “OK, so we have taken care of the vamp.”

“Yup,” said Dean, “and it was awesome!”

“And now we have to clean you, Dean,” she said, turning to him. He had his tongue half out, his paw stopped in mid-air. He darted a look at Sarah. “Dean, don’t lick that! The vampire blood!”

“Fuck!” He put his paw down.

“Look, Sarah, I think it takes live blood. Dried-up blood won’t turn him.”

Sarah turned to face Sam, her eyes merely slits. “You want to take the chance?”

“Um, no.”

She turned to Dean. “You?”

Dean was looking down at his paws, turning them to inspect them better. “No, of course not.”

Sarah declared, “Alright. Off to the motel.”

6. Longing

The night, in fact, was still young – especially since they’d had a nap earlier. It was only 11:30. Sam had taken out his tablet while Sarah was in the bathroom with Dean.

Dean was sitting in the bathtub and Sarah, kneeling on the floor, was using the shower head to drench his paws. They were both silent and calm, looking at the streaks of blood going to the drain.

“Gimme your paw”, she said softly. She took it in her hand and sprayed water between his toes. She turned the paw, sprayed thoroughly every furry nook.

“Get your claws out.” She was talking softly, like she was telling him what she’s going to do next. She cleaned his claws.

“The other paw.” And they repeated the gestures.

“Now, your face. Chin up.” He closed his eyes. Water running down his face, his neck. She stroke his fur to make sure it got cleaned. He flinched. “Oh, the vampire bite. I’ll clean that too.” She gently ran some water on it.

“What about your belly?”

“I think it’s alright.” Dean sat up on his hind legs, balancing with a paw on the side of the tub. They both looked at his underside. Sarah ran her fingers through the fur. “No, you’re good. Let’s get you dried up then.”

Dean stepped out of the bathtub and Sarah dried his paws with a towel. She then dried his head, his neck. With the towel still around his shoulders, she stopped and looked in his eyes. “I know you’ve been a panther only a little over 2 days, and I know I can talk to you, but I miss you. Having half of you is… it’s weird. It’s worse than when we’re apart a few days. It’s like you’re here with me, but I can’t be with you. It’s you, but it’s not.” She looked at his body. “It’s you inside, I know, but it feels… off. Like you’re far away. I miss you, the whole you. I miss your touch.” She sighed, looking at the ground. "I miss you, Dean."

Dean put his head in the crook of her neck and gave little rubs, finally resting his head heavily, eyes closed. “I’m here, sweetie pie. But I know. I miss you too.”

Sarah put her arms around him and laid her cheek on his head. “Damn you’re soft, though.”

Dean made little huffs. He was laughing. Sadness tainted Sarah's faint smile.

7. Enquiring

Sarah and Dean stepped out of the bathroom. Sam looked up. “Hey, I found more info on Hatley.”

“Oh? Interesting info… this time?” She looked at Dean and giggled. Dean made laughy huffs and headed to the bed, on which he lied down like a sphinx. Sarah sat on the corner of the bed, rested a hand on a paw. Dean gave a tiny lick.

Sam sighed. “Very funny.” He raised his eyebrows. “It turns out, Hatley has a wife.”

“Ohhh! What a turn of events!” More giggles and huffs.

Sam sat back. “Really?”

“Sorry,” said Sarah. “Go on. Mrs Hatley.”

“According to what I found, she owns the plant where Hatley is chair. She doesn’t sit on the committee – her husband does, but she owns the plant. Also, she owns about a third of the real estate that is in her husband’s name.”

“That doesn’t make sense. It’s in his name.”

“She’s listed as co-owner on quite a few properties.”

“Oh. Right. So… Are you saying she’s got more money than him? Is the plant worth more than his real estate share?”

“Yes.”

“OK. So we have Hatley. He is the less fortunate of the two. Murders have been perpetrated on his property. Were they his buildings only, or shared ownership ones?”

“Um…” Sam looked something up. “Ah! He is the sole owner. Hmm…”

“Maybe she’s got something to do with this.”

“But what? She’s richer than him.”

“Power?”

“What power? She owns the workforce and part of the town. I’d say she’s powerful already.”

Sarah looked aimlessly at various spots on the carpet, lost in thought. Sam read up on his tablet.

“Then there’s only one thing left,” she said. Dean and Sam looked at her, waiting for her to continue. “He cheated on her.”

“Hm, could be.”

“If it’s not money, if it’s not power, it’s sex. Or love. Either he cheated on her, or he wants a divorce or something. Either way, she’s unhappy with him and wants revenge.”

“Could be,” Sam said as he turned his tablet off. “Alright. That gives us some direction for tomorrow. Now I guess we should question them both. Which one first?”

Sarah folded her arms. “You know what? I think we do them at the same time, so they don’t know we’re also talking to the other when we see them. You do her, I do him. Maybe you could charm her into giving you info. And me charm him. Who knows?”

Sam got up. “That’s a bit twisted.”

“Thank you.”

8. Investigating

After a relatively good night’s sleep – Sarah cuddled against Dean, who was sleeping on top of the covers – Sam went to get some breakfast. He came back with a bit more than usual.

“That’s a big bag,” Sarah commented. Dean perked up. He hopped down and got closer. “What you got?”

“That place got breakfast wraps and sandwiches. I got a few sausage-only wraps for Dean. And since he’s…” he looked over at the panther, “pretty big, I got 4 just for him. I hope it’s enough.”

“Probably not,” Dean said, “but I’ll take it.” He licked his nose.

The food was distributed and eaten in silence – in Dean’s case, wolfed down pretty fast.

FBI suits were donned, and they left a “Don’t disturb” on the door. Nobody wants to deal with a maid walking in on a panther.

Sam was driving. He pulled in the police station’s parking lot.

“And why are we here?”, Sarah asked.

“Cause we always hit the cops first…” Sam said, like it was standard procedure. “Plus, they might tell us where to find Mr. and Mrs Hatley if they’re not at the plant. I figure she wouldn’t be, since she doesn’t sit on the committee, so I wonder where we’d find her.”

“I don’t know… home?”

“And if she’s not?”

“What, the police doesn’t keep tabs on every civilian.”

“With all their real estate and them owning the plant, I’m pretty sure both the Hatleys know the police and vice-versa. So there might be something. Or something to learn about the vampire killings. Something.”

“Alright, then. Let’s do that.”

In the station, they were directed to a certain Wilson. After pleasantries and showing badges, Sam took the floor.

“So, you’re the one working on the multiple murders case.”

“Yes. I’m surprised the FBI got here that fast.”

“Oh, we didn’t only get here, we got the murderer.”

“What, you caught him?”

“Right as he was about to strike again. So you can add that to your file and tell your people.”

“I’m… wow. Seriously?”

Sarah interjected. “Sir, are you questioning the FBI’s efficiency?”

“No! No, no, no… It’s just… It’s like you came in and saved the day. The FBI never does that. Well, they didn’t last time.”

Sam and Sarah frowned, and Sam went, “Last time?”

“Yes. We had 3 murders on our hands within the same week, one in town and 2 on the outskirts. Never got solved. Never got any help either. Super weird case.”

“When was that?”

“Um, about 10 years ago?”

Sam and Sarah glanced at each other in surprise.

Sam turned to Wilson. “Do you have the reports?”

“Yes, I’ll get them for you.”

Wilson left the room. Sam and Sarah turned to each other.

Sarah whispered, “Oh my god, 10 years? A demon? What the hell?”

“That could be a completely different thing, though.”

Sarah looked at Sam with raised eyebrows, arms open in disbelief.

“No,” Sam said, “of course not. Those things always end up related.” He sighed. She sighed.

“Plus, how come you didn’t find this case? I thought you could find everything and hack in any records.”

“But I did check. There was nothing.”

Wilson came back with a slim file. “I made you a copy. We didn’t have much, so here you are.”

Sam took the file, gave it to Sarah, who started reading while Sam continued. “Thanks a lot. Could you tell me, why wasn’t this case in the system?”

“What? It’s in the system. Everything always goes in the system. It’s procedure.” He got around his desk, sat and checked on his computer. “See, right – wait.” He typed some more. He sat back, looked at Sam in surprise. “It’s not here. I don’t get it.” He paused, staring at his screen. “I swear, I remember reviewing the file in the system. I even remember, there was one – “

Sam cut him. “Hey, it’s alright, we have a physical file, we have something we can work with, it’s OK.”

Wilson couldn’t believe what he just heard. “What, the FBI… will let this slide?”

Sarah took this one. “No, sir, the FBI will not let this… slide, as you say. You will get the file re-entered in the system. We will need it to be there when we fill the form to close the case.” Sam darted a look at Sarah.

Wilson seemed to fall back in familiar territory. “Oh, right. Yes, right on it, M’am.”

While Sarah leafed through the file, Sam got to what they had come in for. “Before we leave, we have to ask you if you know where we could find Mr. and Mrs Hatley.”

“From Hatley Corp.?”

“Yes.”

Wilson was visibly taken aback by this request. “Um, Mr. Hatley is usually at the plant. He’s the boss there.”

“We know that.”

“Oh, OK. And Mrs Hatley… I guess she’s home? I know she’ll be at the charity dinner tonight for our Vets. She organized the whole thing. So I guess at the moment she’s home?” He looked at the clock. 9:40. “Still pretty early. I guess she’s home. Want me to call?”

“No, it’s fine. And where would that charity event take place?”

“The Community Center. We had it built for events like this, ceremonies and various activities. It’s pretty big.”

“Thanks, Wilson,” Sam said, extending his hand, “we’ll be on ou-”

Sarah cut Sam. “Wait. Wilson, why do you say this case was weird? And why do you say they’re murders? All I see here are animal attacks. Even the photos are quite clear.” Sam leaned over to see while Wilson answered. The pictures showed bodies with clear lacerations, so many the victim quickly bled to death from the wounds. There were also bite marks on the necks. Sam and Sarah looked at each other, recognizing the type of wounds. But they wanted to hear it from Wilson.

“Because of the animal. The coroner found all three victims were attacked by a large cat. Now, cats will tackle their preys with their paws to bring them down but then they’ll break their necks. This particular breed of cat here actually crushes the skull of its preys with its fangs. But cats never shred them like this and leave them. Plus, the victims were found far enough from each other that the cat needed a faster mode of transport than just running. To me, that’s weird enough to call it murder.”

Sarah cut in. “Maybe it wasn’t the same – “

But Wilson waved a finger. “No, no. They’re all from the same animal. All the marks were measured and they matched.”

Sarah flipped a few pages. “Ah, found it. ‘…indicate a single adult black jaguar.’” Her eyes went up to Wilson. “Black jaguar?”

“Yeah, or, a panther.”

Back in the car, Sam took his tablet out.

“Whatcha looking up?”

“Black jaguar distribution. I’m pretty sure they’re not endemic to Kansas.”

“But you knew that when you saw Dean. You told me.”

“Yeah and I do confirm. They’re not.”

Sam turned his tablet off and set it down on the seat. Both Sam and Sarah had their eyes fixed on nothing in particular on the dash. Sam blinked. “So that means…”

“Yeah. That means it’s really Dean. Well, not Dean, but the same cat.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Sam took a deep breath. He started the car. “Did they find any big cat owner? Does the file say?”

“It specifies they didn’t find any. They checked.”

“Let’s go and ask the Hatleys if they like cats, then.”

Sam had dropped Sarah at the plant before heading to the Hatley’s domicile.

Mrs Hatley answered the door. “Yes?” She was clearly ready for her day ahead, dressed in a tailored long skirt and coat, hair neatly up in an elaborate braid at the nape of her neck. She presented a look between classic and modern.

“Sorry to disturb you at such an early hour,” Sam said, while showing his badge, “I am agent Ridgeley, I would like to ask you a few questions. It’s regarding the recent macabre events in town.”

Mrs Hatley looked at him a moment, brows furrowed. “Your name again?”

“Agent Ridgeley.” Sam suddenly remembered, he should be a bit charming, because, like Sarah said, who knows? So he relaxed his composure and made a warm smile, looking Mrs Hatley in the eyes.

Mrs Hatley made a little smile. She gestured to him. “Do come in, agent Ridgeley.”

The house was huge. From the front, it didn’t seem so big, but, once inside, one realized the house was build to be long. They walked the hallway. Sam noticed an old wedding picture on a side table – Mr. and Mrs Hatley, surely. He didn’t have time to look at it closely, for Mrs Hatley was taking him past the living room, a staircase, and the kitchen. She picked up a mug and lead Sam out to the patio. The backyard was neatly maintained, much like an English garden. On a table, a coffee pot was resting on a heat plate, with 2 mugs – both empty – sugar, milk, and the morning paper, neatly folded.

“Would you like some coffee, agent?”

“Yes, thank you. Very kind of you.”

“Please do sit. We can’t take long, for I have to be at the Community Center as soon as possible – I’m hosting an event for our veterans tonight and there is so much to do – but let’s make the little time we have as comfortable as possible. Sugar? Milk? It’s almond milk.”

“Just a splash, please. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Here.” She handed him his cup and sat down. “So, what is it you need to ask me?”

Sam flipped his notepad open. “We noticed that the, um, events took place in buildings owned by your husband.”

“Indeed. It is very bad for business. The tenants of those buildings want to be compensated for the trauma, or so they say. Actually, one argues the place is unsafe and wants us to lower the rent.”

“’Us’? Aren’t those buildings your husband’s?”

“Oh, sorry. Force of habit. My husband owns a number of buildings, but there are quite a few we co-own. I manage all the buildings.”

“But you own the plant.”

“Yes, but he manages it. See, we’ve learned early on each of us had specific strengths. So we invest our money and let the best of us bring the endeavour to fruition.”

Sam raised an eyebrow in approval and looked around, nodding. “It seems you’ve found the right formula and your endeavours are, indeed, fruitful.”

“Why thank you.”

“I suppose Mr. Hatley spends a lot of time outside the home, though.”

“It’s not that bad. I’m pretty busy myself, you know. And we manage to spend our nights and most of our weekends together, and book nice vacations in the south in the winter. I dare say, I think we found the formula to a fruitful marriage as well.” She laughed a little, and Sam smiled.

“So, any children?”

Her smile faded, but she didn’t seem to mind the question. “No, unfortunately.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think –“

“Oh, it’s alright.”

“So… who is going to inherit everything?” And Sam realized how gloomy this was, so he added, “You know, a long time from now, in the future?” He attempted a smile.

She laughed. “Of course. Well, it’s all going back to the community.”

“How so?”

“The apartment buildings will all become co-ops – managed by the tenants – and the plant will be given to the employees through shares.”

“There must be someone who’s not happy with this.”

“Sure, like always. But it’s what we have planned. It’s all on paper already, all the legal aspects have been addressed. So whatever happens, it’s all locked anyway.”

“I mean, what I’m looking for, here, is someone who could be your enemy, or want to do you harm. You or your… endeavours.”

“Oh!! Good question.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “To be honest, I can’t see who. I’m very sorry.”

“Someone on the plant’s committee maybe?”

“No… Shares will be divided to keep the company running as is. Everyone will keep their current jobs.”

Sam wrote a few things down. Mrs Hatley looked at her watch and gasped. “My! Agent Ridgeley, I’m so sorry, but I really must go.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. Of course.”

Mrs Hatley and Sam got up. She led him along the hallway.

Once at the front door, Sam remembered the cat thing. “Just before we leave, I have one last question.”

“Yes, but please do make it quick.”

“Between you and Mr. Hatley, you must know a lot of people.”

“Oh, almost everyone in town!”

“Do you know of anyone who is fond of, or would own a big wild cat? Or has owned one in the past?”

Mrs Hatley looked like her brain had stopped working. “A …what?”

“Big wild cat. A black jaguar, to be exact.”

She stared at Sam a moment. “A black jaguar.”

“Yes, a panther, if you will. A big one, too.”

“But… aren’t those things dangerous?”

“Very.”

“Was it a panther that killed all those poor people?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss the details of the case, I’m sorry. But the murders have been stopped. We found the guilty party and proceeded. So, do you –“

Mrs Hatley blinked rapidly. “You caught them?”

“Yes. There is nothing to fear, now. All is back to normal.”

She stared at Sam, and let out a sigh. “Oh thanks. That’s good news.” She blinked, remembered his question. “And no, I… I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone who would have a panther. Not in our apartment buildings, that’s for sure. Nor anyone else. That’s the kind of thing we’d know. I think.”

“Probably. Someone owning such a cat would probably be proud of it.”

“I suppose. And no, I don’t know anyone who has or had a panther.”

Sam wrote something down and put his notepad back in his pocket. “Thank you, Mrs Hatley. Sorry for the inconvenience. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.”

“Here’s my card if something comes up. Anything.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

Sam gave a nod and a smile, and left.

Sam picked up Sarah at the plant.

“So, how was it?”

“For one thing, he’s in love with his wife, so the whole cheating slash jealousy slash revenge thing is out the window.”

“Yeah, I got that feeling too. And for the panther, I got nothing.”

“Me neither. The very question seemed to scare him.”

“Mrs Hatley was quite shaken too. She thought the panther had killed her tenants.”

“…’her tenants’? Aren’t the buildings his?”

Sam explained the couple’s arrangements and their plans for their legacy. “What did you talk about?”

“Oh, plant and business stuff. He talks like everyone is happy. It’s eerie.”

“Maybe they are.”

Sarah turned to Sam and said flatly, “We have 3 murders 10 years ago and 4 this week. Woop-tee-doo, I’m dancing with joy.”

Sam pursed his lips. “I know.”

Sam and Sarah stopped to get some lunch and make a detour by the grocery store to get Dean a big piece of actual raw meat.

“You know, I’m used to Dean and his burgers,” Sam said, looking at the beef roast Sarah had in her hands, “but this is something else. It’s weird to think it’s Dean who is going to eat this.”

“Probably in one sitting, too.” She weighed the package in her hands. “Which is impressive.”

“I think we’ll have to look up a bit more on black jaguars to see what he needs. We can’t feed him a roast that big every meal.”

Sarah felt like she needed to protect Dean. “You should know, cats are obligate carnivores.”

Sam just sighed. “Yeah, I know that. But it’s a lot of food, even for a big cat.”

She pouted. “But he’s going to be so happy.” She lifted the roast to accentuate her statement.

Sam shook his head.

Back at the motel, Dean was indeed happy about the meat. He chewed on it his eyes half-closed, licking his mouth and nose between each bite. Once he seemed more disposed to listening to Sam and Sarah, they brought him up to speed on their investigations.

They gathered to throw ideas around.

A vampire was never a loner, but it was decided they wouldn’t go after its nest. Too time consuming, and the probability of the remaining vampires cooperating too low.

Going back to where Dean had been taken, try to find the witches and have them put Dean back seemed to lack some crucial info. Why did the witches switch Dean and the black jaguar in the first place? They would need to know more before they barge in. Of course, Dean favoured the barging in option, taking the witches prisoner and force them to switch him back. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t drive the car. So he was left to follow suit. Dean was not a happy kitty.

Sam turned his tablet on, trying to see if he could find something about a missing black jaguar or panther in the classifieds or anywhere, really.

9. Knowing

Sam was still looking up classifieds on his tablet when Sarah’s phone rang. She put it on speaker. “Agent Michael speaking.”

“Um, hi. This is Mr. Hatley from this morning.” He seemed stressed.

Sam and Sarah exchanged glances. Sarah’s tone was relaxed. “Yes, Mr. Hatley. Do you have something new for me?”

“Yes. I think we need to talk. Where can I meet you?”

Sarah gave him the address of the motel.

There was a faint knock at the door. Dean hid in the bathroom, sitting by the door, able to see and hear but not be seen, while Sarah opened. “Mr. Hatley, please come in.”

Hatley thanked her and walked in. As she closed the door behind him, he froze in place, looking at Sam.

Sam frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Hatley blinked and looked to the ground. He looked back at Sarah. “I didn’t know you had… You’re…”

Sarah tried to fill in. “He’s my partner, yes.”

Hatley turned to Sam. “Agent…?”

“Ridgeley.”

Hatley seemed surprised.

“I know, it’s not a common name.” He glared subtly at Sarah, who had a smirk on her face. “Please, sir, have a seat. Coffee?”

Hatley sat. “Um, no, thanks.”

Sarah sat by Sam, facing Hatley. His leg was restless. His shoulders gave little jolts. He fumbled with his tie.

Sarah tried to make him comfortable. “It’s alright, you can talk to us.”

Sam added, “Even if you think it might be a bit… strange.”

Hatley turned to Sam, suddenly still and calm. He looked Sam in the eye. “I know.”

Sam and Sarah looked at each other, than Sam slowly turned to Hatley. “What do you mean, you know?”

Hatley flattened his tie, sat up, a resigned look in his eye. “Look. I came here to see if I could trick agent Michael here in telling me more about what she knows on the case and tell her the panther is in fact mine, so when she’d find it she’d tell me so I could collect it.”

Sam and Sarah sat back, eyes wide. Sarah spoke up. “Wait. The panther is yours?”

“Kind of. Yes. I mean… No, it’s not. It’s complicated.”

Sam’s brows were furrowed. He squinted. “But you said, ‘I know.’ You know… who the black jaguar belongs to? I’m lost here.”

Hatley sighed loudly. “No. Yes, but it’s not that. I know you’re not agent Ridgeley. You’re Sam Winchester.”

Sam and Sarah almost fell off their chairs. They echoed, “What?”

“We know who you are, Mr. Winchester. We’ve been informed. We’ve seen a picture of you and your brother. We don’t know who she is,” he pointed his chin at Sarah, “but we know who you are and what you do. So yeah, I know I can tell you about strange stuff. I came to try to get the panther back. Which, by the way, we have no idea how you know about, because, as we all know, the murders in my blocks were carried out by a vampire. Which you took out. That almost went according to plan, but we’re missing a panther, so it’s a damn mess now. So fuck it. I really hope you can help us.”

Sam and Sarah stared at Hatley, mouths opened. Sam was the first to shake the surprise off. “Who informed you of who we are? What do you mean, we can help you?”

Sarah added, “Yeah, and about the panther, too. Is it yours or is it not?” She instinctively looked towards the bathroom. Dean had opened the door a little and was watching through the crack. You could only see one eye, and it was fixing intensely the back of Hatley’s head.

Hatley took a deep breath, looked at Sam. “The demon told us about you guys. That’s who.”

Sam leaned over the table, resting on his arms. “The demon?”

Hatley folded his hands in his lap. “Yes. He wanted Dean on a silver plate, so he showed us your pictures and explained you were hunters. Getting Dean would be very hard, he said. But it was the price to pay, so we hired some witches – “

“Wait wait wait.” Sam put a hand up. “The price to pay for what? Usually, demons demand the dealer’s soul. Not other humans’. Plus, they can’t collect a soul without a contract. Dean has no contract.”

“Though you gotta admit, Dean is worth a lot for demons,” Sarah said, “so I guess they still try.”

Hatley cut in. “Yeah, that’s what the demon said. He said he could collect Dean if he wanted to. We wondered why he didn’t get him himself, but he said something about his body being guarded or something.”

Sam looked at Sarah. “Ah, the tattoo.” Sarah nodded.

“What?” Hatley was the one confused now.

Sam and Sarah undid a few buttons of their shirts and pulled at their collars. Sam explained. “It’s a warding against demon possession.”

Hatley was impressed. “I should have gotten something like that.”

“Well it depends,” Sam explained, “if you think you need to be guarded against demon possession. Do you?”

“No, actually, no.” Hatley lowered his head. “It’s hellhounds I’m worried about.”

Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Ahhh… So that’s where you think we could help you.”

“Hopefully.”

“Boy, hellhounds… That’s a hard one. When are you due?”

“Tonight, midnight.”

Sarah looked at Sam. “That should explain the other murders. 10 years… the cat…”

Hatley just looked at Sarah under his eyebrows.

Sam crossed his arms. “Better start from the top, then. We’ll need to know everything.”

And Hatley explained. 30 years ago, they started investing their money, but things dragged on and didn’t really go well. They met with a financial advisor who gave them tips for investing and it’s been doing great from that point on.

“Let me guess,” Sarah said, “it’s been doing really great, but your luck ran out exactly 10 years later.”

“Yes. The way he worded his advice, he’d gotten us to sell him our souls. We just didn’t believe it until we heard the hellhound coming.”

“And how did you get out of that one? Nobody ever gets out of that. No civilian, at least.”

“I killed it.”

Sam and Sarah gasped. Sam spoke. “What? How?”

“A very lucky accident. I was in the kitchen for a late snack. I heard the hellhound and grabbed my biggest knife. I ran, and tried to hide, but of course it didn’t work. When it came for me, I just defended myself and got it.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. My wife couldn’t believe it either. We were in shock. But the next moment the demon was in our kitchen, and he was furious. Long story short, we bargained with it. The new deal was we had to kill the hunters in the area and he’d grant us 10 more years.”

Sarah nodded. “Voilà! We got our 3 murders solved.”

“Yeah. How d’you know about that? We had the data erased from the system.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Well, unfortunately for you, someone remembered the case at the station. And still had a paper copy of the file. He was very happy we’d solved the current case, he hoped we could help with that old one.”

“Shit.”

Sam smiled and nodded.

Sarah perked up. “But wait. The hunters were killed by the panther, weren’t they? The very same panther you’re looking for.”

“Oh, so that’s where you learned about the panther.”

Sam made a half-smile and returned to his neutral expression just as fast.

Hatley thought about it. “Yes, it’s the same panther. At least, I think.”

Sarah pressed on. “Don’t just think. Talk.”

Hatley took a deep breath. “Well, as it turns out, we have witches in town…”

Sarah said, under her breath, “It’s a fucking freak show, this place.” Sam glared at her, but talked to Hatley. “Sorry. Carry on.”

“Yeah, I agree with her. We didn’t know about the witches, but they’d picked up on the demon and hellhound activity, and when they realized we were still alive, they showed up on our doorstep. Now, we had witches in our house asking us how we’d gotten out of the demon deal – we quickly learned that it was very valuable information – and meanwhile we had the hunter-killing problem. We had 3 days to carry out the murders. The least I could say was, we were quite overwhelmed. My wife tried to find ways to not kill the hunters, just fake it. The witches explained we couldn’t do that.”

“And the panther in all this?” Sarah’s patience was running out.

“Yes, this is where it comes into play. We… well, I made a deal with the witches. I asked them for help with the hunters murders in exchange for the information they wanted. They’re the ones who did it. Kill them, I mean. They had a panther and used it. They swapped the panther’s soul with one of the witches and got the hunters that way.”

Sarah was thinking out loud. “They must have done more than just unleash the panther. Hunters are usually good enough to get out of a panther attack. I mean, we fight vampires, werewolves, wendigos…”

Hatley’s eyes were wide. “Werewolves? And… what is a wendigo?” He looked at Sarah, then Sam, who opened his mouth to answer, but Hatley cut him. “No. I shouldn’t be surprised. And… Wendigos, I don’t want to know.”

Sam sat back. “Oh you really don’t.”

Hatley continued. “Yeah, I guess the witches used some magic, too. Makes sense, right? They got the hunters really fast, like, in the same night. But when I told them we got out of the demon deal out of luck, they were not happy.”

“I can’t wait to see how you got out of that one,” Sarah muttered.

“With a lot of money,” Hatley said, flatly.

“Like witches can’t get a lot of money by themselves,” Sarah said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well not a lot of legal money all at once,” Hatley answered, on the same tone.

Both Sam and Sarah went “Oh.”

“So that was 10 years ago,” Sarah said, “and your problem got solved. For another 10 years. Which brings us to today. Well… this week.”

“Indeed,” Hatley said with a sigh, “but this time, the demon showed up without his hellhound. He’s the one who came to us with an offer.”

“Let me guess,” Sam said, “he wanted Dean.”

“Yes. In exchange for another 10 years.”

Sarah looked at Sam. She frowned, and turned to Hatley. “Only Dean? They usually want both Sam and Dean.”

“Well they know you boys,” Hatley said, looking at Sam. “They know if we get one, the other will go looking for him. All we needed to do was to get you where we wanted.”

“But we didn’t go to where Dean was taken.”

“Because that’s not where the witches wanted you. They said they’d rather deal with you separately, cause if you were in the same room, they’d probably all end up dead.”

Sarah smiled proudly and looked at Sam. “It’s fair.”

“So they put a spell on a vampire to do our bidding, and we arranged for some murders to catch your attention.”

Sarah’s smile quickly turned into an air of disgust. “You say that so matter-of-factly I’m going to be sick.”

Hatley pursed his lips and sighed. “But we lost the panther. The witches were supposed to be waiting for you when you go get the vampire and deal with you. But they were busy looking for the panther, so they missed you.”

“Wow, we’re lucky this organization is sloppy,” said Sarah.

Sam added, “And it’s interesting how they can locate a demon and a hellhound, but not a panther.”

“They’d hidden it magically from you guys. And their spell backfired on them, they couldn’t locate it.”

Sarah’s expression brightened. She looked at Sam. “Now, that’s hilarious.”

But just as fast, she got serious and squinted at Hatley. “Now, all I see is that you want us to get you out of your demon deal and avoid going to hell. But you can’t give us Dean.”

“I can tell you where his body is and introduce you to the witches, maybe you can work something out.”

“Do give the address.” he did and she wrote it down. “But you seriously don’t think this is enough. We need Dean, not just his body.”

Hatley started fidgeting. “You really can’t help me? Maybe you could talk to the demon?”

“And say what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re the pros, aren’t you? Maybe you can get us out of this.”

Sam sighed. Of course, he wasn’t about to let a human be dragged to hell, whatever he may have done. Even murder. Even premeditated, cold-blooded murder. Humans were humans.

“Look. We’ll help you,” he said.

“Oh thanks! Thank you thank you thank you! …how?”

“We’ll trap and kill the demon.”

“You can do that?”

“Yes. And then, we’ll work from there to sort out the rest.”

“I have one last question,” Sarah said, “What about your wife? Is she going to cooperate?”

“She’ll cooperate if it means getting out of the whole deal. She’s stuck with me in this because of the original demon deal, but she didn’t agree to the hunters murders and she didn’t approve of the vampire killings either.”

“Oh because you do?”

“Someone has to carry the guilt.”

Sam got up. “Alright. You’re supposed to deliver Dean to the demon tonight, right?”

“Right.”

“I suppose, at the address where his body is – and where his soul, trapped in the black jaguar, was supposed to be.”

“Right.”

“OK. We leave right now. Call Mrs Hatley, we’re picking her up.”

“What?”

“You’re coming with us.”

“Why?”

“Cause we need to protect you. We can’t do that if you’re here.”

“But isn’t it more dangerous to get us close to the demon?”

Sarah winked. “Don’t worry. We’re the pros.”

Sam started gathering their belongings. Sarah turned and nodded at Dean to come out. He opened the door with his paw and gracefully trotted into the room.

Hatley gave a start. “AH! You have the panther?!”

Dean sat in front of Hatley, who tried to back up in his chair. Sam and Sarah looked at the scene, amused. “Why didn’t you say you had the panther?”

Sam straigtened up. “Need-to-know basis. And we’re the ones who need to know. You, on the other hand, need to stay alive. So you need to listen. To us.” Sam gave him a sideways look, waiting for him to answer. Hatley only nodded, keeping his eyes on the panther.

“Oh,” Sarah added, “and it’s not ‘the panther’. It’s Dean.” Dean slowly blinked at Hatley. Hatley nodded.

10. Preparing

They picked up Mrs Hatley and headed to the bunker, the Hatleys in the backseat with Sam. Mr. Hatley brought his wife up to speed on everything the best he could. After the initial shock of seeing Sam and Sarah had the panther – um, Dean – she was mostly relieved and grateful for the help getting rid of the demon problem. She assured Sam and Sarah that they never wanted to sell their souls in the first place and she’d been doing every good deed she could think of all those years in the hopes it would erase the deal and get her a place in heaven instead.

“Unfortunately, that’s not how it works,” Sam explained, “a deal is a deal. And one with a demon is, to our knowledge, pretty much unbreakable. Unless you kill the demon.”

“And you know how to do that,” Mrs Hatley enquired.

Sarah looked at her in the rearview mirror. “Yes, we do. It’s the plan.”

“I guess there’s a reason the demon wanted you.”

“Oh you bet there is. A lot of reasons.”

Back at the bunker, they ate, and Sam checked something on the computer. “Ha. It was hard to pinpoint, but I see why the demon wanted the hunters dead.”

“Don’t they all do? Want hunters dead? As a general rule?” Mr. Hatley asked.

“Not necessarily. Hunters hunt a lot of things, and demons are really not easy to find – and, we’re the only ones I know who can kill them. So demons are not too bothered with hunters in general.”

“Except you and your brother.”

“Yeah. So,” he pointed at the screen, “get this. After you killed the hunters, demon deals went up in the area. I’ve found a few people who had good, very good fortune and died exactly 10 years after.”

“There are not that many rich people in town. What do you mean?”

“Good fortune can be a number of things, including this couple here who’d tried to get pregnant for a long time and finally had a baby. You cross the obits with the classifieds or news articles 10 years back on the same date and you start seeing correlations.”

“My, that’s… grim.”

“My guess is those hunters knew how to get rid of demons. Because there is virtually nothing that fits the pattern for a very long time before the hunters died.”

Sarah cleaned up after everyone was done eating. “So, those witches. Do tell. Cause we’re about to head out and meet up with them.”

There wasn’t much to tell, to Sam and Sarah’s disappointment. Three women in their thirties. Or so they said. The Hatleys didn’t know if they’d be any helpful, because they seemed happy to help getting the demon’s deed done. That’s what got them rich and what would get them richer this time again. And if they lost the deal with the Hatleys, they just might turn around and cut a deal with the demon instead.

“That’s why we’re killing the demon,” Sarah said.

Sarah laid out a plan. “OK. So we go to the address you gave me. Then… um… We stall until the demon gets there. We kill the demon. Then, the Hatleys offer a load of money to the witches so they put Dean back in his body. How’s that?”

“I’m not sure,” said Sam. “They’re already paying them to carry out the demon’s demands. It will make the witches very nervous to see us try and kill the demon.”

“OK,” Sarah continued, “Then the Hatleys give them the money upfront for their word they’re not going to hurt Dean, then the same amount after Dean is safe and sound.”

“HEY!” Mr. Hatley protested.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry? You’d rather rot in hell? Cause, you should know, you’re just postponing the inevitable with your deals.”

“No, you’re right.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Sam was pensive. “Yeah, that might work.”

Mrs Hatley was visibly nervous. “You’re really taking us with you to the witches’ place?”

Sam took his phone out. “No. The bunker is more secure, so you’ll stay here. I’ll record your offer to the witches to show them.”

11. Saving

The trio was back on the road in the Impala, with, again, Sam in the back and Dean by Sarah in the front.

Sarah glanced at Dean. “How are you doing? Sorry for all the human conversations, but we needed to get to the bottom of this.” “It’s fine,” Dean said, “I had time to… lick myself.” Sam and Sarah made a disgusted sound. Dean laughed.

The place they were sent to was, of course, a house along a dirt road outside of a town. It was quite hidden in the forest, but it was in good shape. It was already dark and the porch light shone dimly down on the stairs. “Why do we always get to the places in the middle of nowhere?” Sarah reflected, as she parked the car beside an old Toyota. Sam craned his neck to take it all in. “The upside is if we have to fight, we won’t have to deal with neighbours or the police”, adding, “especially since we have a black jaguar with us.” Dean made a “what-he-said” head nod towards Sam. Sarah turned to look at Sam. “If we have to fight? IF?” Dean made a “what-she-said” head nod towards her.

They got some things from the trunk and headed to the door. As Sarah and Sam were wondering whether they should knock, ring or just barge in, Dean’s ears perked up and he suddenly looked around, moving his ears to catch some sound. Sarah whispered, “I didn’t hear anything.” Sam just looked at her, shrugging. They all looked around.

Without any warning sign, Dean took off. He was in the forest in an instant – you wouldn’t have heard him run, but only remembered the sound of the leaves after he’d passed, your brain mesmerized by the sheer force it took the massive cat to reach such speed so quickly and smoothly. Sam and Sarah didn’t really have time to realize what had happened when they heard some rustling of leaves, a muffled human sound, a branch snap, then nothing. Sam and Sarah tried to see in the dark in the general direction Dean had gone. “Dean!” Sam called in a loud whisper. “Dean!”

“He’s right here,” said a woman’s voice from the forest, at normal volume. “No need to call. Oh, and thanks for the delivery.” They heard leaves rustling, branches snapping, the sounds fading as she obviously was walking away from them.

“HEY! Get back here!” Sarah called.

“I’m not that stupid, dear, so no!” the voice answered from farther.

Sam jumped in. “But we have an offer from the Hatleys! We came to talk!”

The rustling stopped. The voice came from right in front of them, a few paces from the stairs. “Sam, you have a machete. And you, whoever you are, you have a gun, probably loaded with something you invented that could hurt us. And you got more things hidden in your pockets.” They could see her in the shadow. She was fairly tall, of strong build, wearing normal jeans and a red hoodie. She had long blonde hair. Sarah had raised her gun, aiming at her, but the witch merely took the information in and turned back to Sam. “So, no, Sam. I’m not stupid. Congrats on trying to save the Hatleys, but this thing has to go down. And, need I remind you, we already have a deal with them.” Sarah aimed at the witch’s leg and shot. The sound of the gunshot resonated in the forest as the figure in front of them vanished in a wisp of smoke. “Damn astral projections.” Sarah was furious she’d lost a bullet for that.

Sam and Sarah strained their ears to try to hear something, anything. But the forest had fallen silent again. Sam took his lockpicking kit out of his pocket. The best solution: barge in, but silently.

Sarah protested, in a barely audible whisper. “What’s the point? She went into the forest! And Dean told us he had escaped from a kind of shack, not a proper house.”

Sam was firm. “But this is the address the demon is going to come to. We can set traps for the demon. He’ll come after us anyway.”

“Are you nuts? He’ll come after us after he’s done with Dean!”

“We. Need. Clues. And this is the right address for the deal,” Sam said, as he pursed his lips and proceeded with the lockpick. He added, “unless you have a way of going in the forest silently.” He looked at his watch. “And it’s only 10:30. We have a little time still before the demon gets here.”

They got in the house, got their flashlights on. It was a very normal house, clean and uncluttered. It felt like breaking and entering into a house where the occupants were sleeping. There was nothing special on the main floor so they went downstairs. The basement was simple and bare.

They were about to give up on finding clues in the house when they heard a kind of breathing in a corner. Whipping their flashlights around, they only saw a big, low wooden casket. They looked at each other and listened again. Yes. Breathing, coming from inside the casket. Sam got by the lid, unlatched the lock, ready to open, Sarah in position to shoot should anything jump out. Sam lifted the lid.

Sarah covered her mouth as she screamed. “DEAN!”

Sam just as soon put a hand in front of him to stop her from running towards the casket. “It’s not Dean! It’s not Dean! It’s his body.”

Her eyes went from Dean’s body to Sam and back again. She let her hand down as she spoke. “I know… my god… we have his body… That means it’s the panther inside. Is he tied up in some way?”

Sam looked. “Yes. His hands are tied. His feet too.”

They both looked at Dean’s sleeping body in silence, taking in the damages. Most of the exposed skin was either bruised or scratched. There was a fair amount of caked blood yet some wounds seemed fresh. Sarah couldn’t help but step closer. “My god, his hands…”

Sam was more used to urgency than Sarah. “Look, he’s sound asleep. This is probably the best way still to contain him,” he said, as he closed and latched the lid, as Sarah looked at him in confused horror. “If we put him in the car, he’ll trash about, break the windows, and hurt himself more.”

“We can tie him down with the seatbelts.”

Sam seemed to think it was a good idea but decided against it. “We need demon traps and salt the windows. We need to protect the body from the demon coming in and taking him.”

Sarah looked at Sam blankly. “The witches can come in and take him elsewhere.”

“Well at least we won’t have to deal with the demon and the witches at the same time.” Sam took his paint spray can out. “Come on. While he’s still sleeping.”

She took her spray can out slowly, thinking. “But why don’t we draw a trap on the pavement and park the car in it with the body in it?”

Sam took a deep, impatient breath. “Because it would be too obvious. If we keep the body here and demon-proof the house, it gives us an advantage.”

Sarah looked up at Sam, a sad look in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I have not hunted for long, I’m not used to the fine details of…” She gestured vaguely.

Sam softened. “It’s alright. It was a good idea, but we need stealth. Come on.”

After they’d done the demon-proofing, they checked on Dean’s body again. Sarah had taken some decorative cushions from the couch upstairs and fitted them around him, hoping the panther won’t hurt Dean’s body too much if it wakes up.

“Oh, I see you’ve found the body.” Sam and Sarah whipped their head around at the voice, their flashlights on the witch. “No need for that.” She flicked the switch and the lights came on. It was the same witch as outside earlier. “Nice salting of the windows by the way. I suppose there are demon traps all over the place. Thanks for the vandalism. I’ll send you the cleaning bill.”

Sam was confused. “This is… your house?”

“Yes. Why? Had you known, you wouldn’t have spray-painted my hardwood floors?”

Sam was still confused. “What? No… I mean…”

“That’s what I thought.” She gestured to them. “Step aside.”

“No, wait,” Sam said, “I told you we can do this differently. Let me explain.”

The witch looked at the sheathed machete. “Yes, of course.” She raised an eyebrow. “I said, step aside.”

Sam put a hand up. “Please, please, hear us out.”

The witch took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Look, Sam Winchester,” she said ‘Winchester’ like it was a vile, putrid word, “you Winchester boys and us witches, we are enemies. I have no intention in making a deal with you and certainly no intention in saving your brother. It’s a good deal for us. On all fronts.” She looked him in the eye. “Now. Step. Aside.”

Neither Sam nor Sarah moved.

“Look, from the bulge in your coat pockets, I know you have brought something to protect yourselves against magic. But I am not above physical violence.” She took out a gun. She saw Sarah raise hers. “Ah, yes. So you do have bullets that can hurt me. So it’s true.”

“Yes, it’s true. Witch-killing bullets.”

The witch sighed and lowered her gun. “Alright. You do have the advantage here. Talk, but talk fast. My sisters will be worried if I’m not back with the body soon. So you have little time before they come and, believe me, us three together? Your little charms won’t hold.” A flash of panic went through Sam and Sarah.

Sam showed the witch the video from the Hatleys.

“Not good enough,” she said, as Sam was putting his phone back in his pocket.

“What?” said Sam, in surprise.

“Look,” the witch explained, “you’re an intelligent man – otherwise, we wouldn’t have so much trouble with you Winchesters – so understand this. The Hatleys are stupid. They got themselves in trouble and they’re paying us very big money to help them meet the demon’s demands. So we plan on cashing in every 10 years. The deal they offer here is final. We prefer long-term partnerships. Plus, bonus, you Winchesters will finally be out of the picture.” She smiled, confident, proud, and her eyes became unfocused, savouring the future.

“What you fail to see,” Sarah interjected, “is that after the demon has delivered Dean and Sam to hell, he’ll have no use for the Hatleys. He’ll collect their souls next time their number comes up. So this deal here? It’s double what you would have should you carry out the initial plan.”

The conversation was cut short by the noise of people entering the house and running downstairs. Two women appeared, out of breath. They were of similar build and attire as the blonde one, but they had light brown hair. They stopped short at the bottom of the stairs, looking at Sam and Sarah.

Sam and Sarah knew their time was up. Sam put his hands in the air and Sarah put her gun back in her belt and did the same. Sam broke the silence. “Hi… um… We were just talking.”

The blonde witch turned to her twin sisters. “They have witch-killing bullets. I agreed to listen.” She turned to Sam and Sarah. “You wait here. We’ll be back. And don’t try to escape. We took care of the exits.” She went upstairs and out with her sisters.

The witches came back after a while. The blonde talked. “OK, Sam Winchester. As much as I hate to see you boys live, we’ve decided the new deal is better.” Sam and Sarah let out a relieved sigh. “But,” she continued, “you get to deal with the demon first. And alone. We’re not getting our hands dirty. If you survive the demon, fine. Otherwise, we go back to the original plan.”

Sam let out an annoyed sigh. “You’re not going to help? At all?”

The three sisters shook their heads. The blonde one added, “The demon will be here shortly. He will be coming to the shack in the back, where we keep the actual Dean.”

At that moment, they heard bumping and muffled screaming from the casket. The blonde witch nodded to her sisters, who went and took care of it. They opened the casket, said some incantation, and closed it. The room was quiet again.

Sarah asked, a tone of sadness in her voice, “Does he wake up often like this?”

The blonde witch answered, “Every 3 to 4 hours. Spells don’t take hold as well on hybrids. The body can be put to sleep, but the incantation doesn’t work as well on the soul if it’s not its body. So it fights back and we have to redo the spell every so often.”

Dean opened his eyes. The charm had worn off. Again in a cage. Dammit! He saw the other cage, empty. Dammit! He leaned against the sides of his cage. Hmmm… seems more solid than last time. He sniffed the air. The human presences had not been gone long. He had time, but surely only little time. And so he started slamming against the cage, not caring for the pain. At any rate, this wasn’t his body. He didn’t care if he broke it beyond repair.

The witch gestured to her sisters. “Come on, let’s bring the body to the shack.” She turned to Sam and Sarah. “You, follow us. We’ll leave you with Dean and his body, and the demon. We’ll wait in the house.”

Sarah protested, “What, you’ll leave all of Dean within the demon’s reach? What kind of deal is this?”

“And here I thought you were good hunters. Well, good luck. Come on, now.”

Dean heard, in the distance, a patio door opening and closing. He gave a last blow to the cage and assessed the damages. The cage was looser. Maybe with a blow or two, it would give. His shoulders hurt badly but he didn’t care. He might even have a broken rib, but he didn’t care. He found a way to hide the blood on the floor as he laid down to fake sleeping.

“No need, Dean. I know you’re awake,” said a male voice. Dean managed to stay still. The voice said, “Doesn’t matter. Let me introduce myself. My name is Brentley, demon, and I’m here to collect you.” Dean opened an eye and saw the demon looking around. “Where is your body? I need both parts. You know,” and he looked at Dean, “to ensure you don’t come back this time.” Dean stayed lying down, trying to look pitiful in the cage. “I know I’m a little early – I said I’d be here at midnight – but seriously, where is the rest? Your body, the witches, the Hatleys…” Brentley put his hands in his pockets, turned to Dean. “Ah, doesn’t matter! Tonight, I get souls. If it’s not yours, it’ll be the Hatleys’. Today’s a good day for business.” He took one hand out and patted the air beside him. Dean heard a low growl. His eyes widened and he backed up in a flash, cowering against the cage. Oh, fuck.

The door opened. “Ah!”, said Brentley. In came the twins with Dean’s body levitating between them. “Finally!”, said Brentley. The twins stopped in surprise, but continued into the shack. Then Sam and Sarah came in. “What??”, said Brentley.

The blonde witch answered him, as she came in, “We found them at the house. Stupid Winchesters, always with their noses in other people’s business. Couldn’t leave them there, so we brought them.”

Brentley pointed at Sarah. “She’s a Winchester?”

The blonde witch answered, “Don’t know, don’t care.”

“Me neither, quite frankly,” Brentley said, as he gestured circles in the air. “Tie them up!”

In the commotion of handling Sarah to tie her up – she was not giving in – Dean caught Sam’s eye. He warned him, “there’s a hellhound by the demon’s side.” But Sam looked confused. Dean repeated. Sam looked a bit panicked. Shit, the spell had worn off. Dean changed tactics. He made a head nod in the witches’ direction, trying to ask Sam if the deal with the Hatleys had gone down. Sam nodded and tapped his phone in his pocket to tell Dean he’d shown them the video. Somehow the brothers understood each other. Dean then looked around and understood what he had to do. And fast.

He stepped back and slammed against the cage, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and stare at him. The cage hadn’t given. He went at it again, and the cage broke, with Dean rolling awkwardly on the floor. He got up, stood to his full height, then, bracing himself, he bent his head down, flattened his ears, closed his eyes until their were slits, focusing on the demon, looking him in the eye, bared his fangs and growled.

But Brentley was not having it. He patted the air beside him. “Get him girl!”

That’s exactly what Dean wanted. Everyone looked horrified – Sam even more so, knowing full well what a hellhound is – as Dean fell to the ground under the most vicious yet invisible creature from hell. Sam took out his machete in the hopes of helping Dean, but the fight was moving too fast. Dog and cat growls tore through the night, and Dean suddenly flew this way and that, and started bleeding from a paw, his neck, his side. One could see his skin being stretched and torn and yet Dean, with the agility his panther body provided him, and his resilience, and his lack of care for pain and broken bones, sent black spurts of blood everywhere. He scratched at the air, bounced away, pounced back, bit the air. More black blood spurted, until Dean seemed to get his paws around something – the hellhound’s neck? – pin the invisible creature down, and tear at it once more. A pool of black blood is all that could be seen. Dean stepped back and looked the demon in the eye again, growling.

Brentley was visibly in shock. And angry. He was looking at his dead hellhound and grinding his teeth as he looked at Dean. Sam looked at the twins holding Sarah. The twins and Sarah showed Sam Sarah was not tied up. Sam mouthed “water” to Sarah, who lightened up. She reached for the bottle in her jacket and, before the demon had time to form his next thought, splashed him. As the demon was screaming and writhing in pain, the witches nodded at each other. They chanted fast and the blonde witch, with her finger pointing to the ground, etched a demon trap in the floor. Dean bounced around the demon and pushed him inside.

Brentley regained his composure and saw the trap. “Ah, fuck! Really?” He looked at the witches. “What the hell is going on?”

The blonde one answered, “The Hatleys gave us a better deal. You’re out.” She nodded at Sam.

Sam took out his demon knife – but had a moment of hesitation, knowing that if he stepped into the demon trap, the demon would take him. Dean caught Sam’s hesitation and jumped the demon from behind, pinning him face down to the ground. Sam understood Dean’s intention the moment he moved a muscle, so he was on the demon the instant he hit the ground and stabbed him, sending yellow sparks about.

12. Homecoming

The Hatleys had transferred all the promised money and were told they could go home.

The witches made Sam promise to not go after them. Sam made them promise to not kill anyone. Dean was put back into his own body, only to find it in pretty bad shape. Not as much as he had left the panther’s, but he was very bruised and bloody. His hands hurt a lot. But… he didn’t care. He’d had much worse.

On the ride back to the bunker, Sam was driving. Dean and Sarah were in the back, silent, numb, leaning on each other. “I think it’s my first real big big hunt with an actual big dangerous fight. I’m more spent than I thought I’d be. I didn’t even do much,” said Sarah, half to herself.

Sam looked at her in the rearview mirror, “It’s normal. It’s the nerves. With more hunts you’ll be able to understand situations better, and it’ll be easier.”

“You don’t get nervous anymore?”

“No, I still do. Danger is danger. But it’s different.”

Dean joined in the conversation. “It’s like anything else. It takes practice. When you know what to do, it’s different. The stress comes from the execution of the task, not from trying to choose what to do. You’ll get there.” He looked at her and his smile was tired, yet fond.

The rest of the ride home was quiet. Dean had dozed off on Sarah’s shoulder. Sarah was relaxing, the low rumble of the Impala almost putting her to sleep. The street lights were coming at regular intervals. She gave the softest kiss on Dean’s cheek. He didn’t wake up.

Back at the bunker, everyone sleepily shuffled to their room, wishing each other goodnight. By then, it must have been 1 a.m.

But Dean was too wounded and bloodied to go straight to bed. Sarah took their bathrobes from the bedroom, and brought a chair in the bathroom. “Strip, babe, I’m gonna help you clean up.”

Dean didn’t say a word, he simply slowly and painfully took his clothes off, starting with his shirts. She helped him with his boots. He finally sat there in his undies, slouched a bit. She slowly and gently cleaned off the blood, slowing down when Dean winced. “Are you bruised… everywhere?”

“It feels like it. But I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry babe.”

“It’s alright. It feels good, what you’re doing.” His tired green eyes slowly blinked as he smiled softly. He sat up and reached for a kiss.

After cleaning Dean up from the blood, they both hopped in the shower. Dean’s shoulders were hurting quite a bit, so Sarah helped him wash his hair. As he stood tall and moved his head to rinse, it hit her. Dean had been a panther for a few days. She’d missed him. And now he’s here, all of him. They won the fight. She didn’t lose him. It overwhelmed her. She wrapped her arms around Dean, her face against his chest, water running down their bodies. Dean leaned down a bit to rest his cheek against her forehead and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s alright, sweetie, I’m here,” he said. She looked up at him. She couldn’t help but get lost in his green eyes. She got on her tippy toes and kissed him gently. He leaned down and pressed his lips harder. It sent a spark through her. Soon they were kissing hard and strong, their tongues searching and finding each other.

“Ouch!” Dean winced.

Sarah stepped back. “Oh I’m sorry babe… what did I do?”

“Nothing… It’s my ribs… I think one or two might be badly bruised. And…” He moved his shoulders and winced. “Anyway. Don’t worry. Come back here. You make me forget the pain.”

“Actually, I think we should move our… activities to bed. You’re bruised enough as it is.”

“Good call,” he laughed lightly, “shower sex is complicated enough as it is, no need to make it worse.”

They got out of the shower, Sarah put a few bandages on Dean’s wounds, and they went to their bedroom. They slipped into the sheets naked and cuddled close. They laid there, her on her left side, her nose smooched against his jaw, him on his back, his arms around her. They stayed quiet for a moment, the little lamp on the bedside table still on. Their eyes were closed, their breathing slow.

Sarah took a deeper breath. “Mmm… Are you still up for it or are you too comfy?”

She felt Dean’s jaw muscles move – he was smiling.

He took her hand in his and said in a low voice, “That kiss in the shower… I missed those.” And he moved her hand down until she could feel he was still under the kiss’ influence.

She smiled. “Mmm… hello there, Mr. Dean.” She stroked him softly, which only made him want more. “I’m so tired,” she said, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Dean laughed, “if that is so, you’ll have to stop, cause I sure am not going to be able to sleep if you keep it up.”

She laughed. She stopped.

Dean shifted his body to face her a little.

She looked up at him and he made a pouty face.

She laughed. He laughed. He gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She propped herself on her elbow and looked at Dean fondly. She ran her fingers in his hair, along his scruffy jaw, brushed his lips with her thumb. “Kiss me, babe, kiss me as much as you missed me. For sure, that’ll wake me up.”

Dean smiled softly and got lost in her eyes. He pulled her closer as he shifted his body so they’d be facing each other. He put a strand of her wet hair behind her ear. He looked at her face, kissed her nose, kissed her cheek. He rubbed his nose against hers, eyes closed, his lips barely brushing hers.

“You’re killing me, Dean Winchester,” she whispered, smiling. He smiled and kissed her very gently. She kissed him back, pecking at his lips, biting his bottom lip. He kissed her harder, tasting her, taking her, a devouring desire building inside him.

He pulled her closer still. She felt the movement of his hips, pressing himself against her. He was big and hard. It sent electricity through her. She broke the kiss for some air while she wrapped her leg around him, pressing herself against him, moving her hips to stroke him. He kissed her neck and moaned softly; she was slick and it almost tickled more than it put actual pressure on him. It made his head spin. She tried to put more pressure but it wasn’t enough, far from it. It made her head spin.

“How are your ribs?”

“Forget about my ribs.”

She smiled. She moved her hips to feel his length again. “And your shoulders?”

He buried his face in her neck. “Fuck…”

“Get on your back. I’m riding you. Right now.”

She straddled him, but she laid down on him, kissing him, keeping her skin in contact with his skin, stroking him, her hips moving back and forth, putting more pressure. His hands on her waist, he tried to help her with the rhythm, although he was more gripping her than helping her. “God, sweetie, Goddd…”

His breath was fast. He pushed her up a little, so he could look at her beauty. She sat up and smiled at him. He moved his hands slowly from her waist to her breasts. They were so soft… He gripped her butt and helped himself up to kiss her breasts – but his shoulders were on fire. He fell back down.

“Let me get closer to you,” she said, as she bent down. He played with her nipples with his tongue, took a mouthful in a big kiss. He played with the other breast, pinching her nipple then licking it, and sucking it. She rotated her hips on him. He let out a high-pitched sound and buried his face in her breasts. She heard his muffled voice, “Good God, baby, ride me, please ride me…” He looked up at her. She got lost again. Damn those eyes, so green… Damn those eyelashes, so luscious and beautiful… Damn those lips, deep red, puffed from the kissing…

She licked and kissed his neck as she positioned herself to take him in. Dean helped her, looking at her, a relaxed yet expectant look on his face, his eyes dark with lust. She slowly slid him in, taking the time to feel him completely, moving her hips slightly to get the right angle. He gripped her as he closed his eyes, taking a long breath in. She started to move up, but he opened his eyes, a little mischievous look in them. “Wait… stay there.”

“What?” She was confused. And ready to ride. What?

“Don’t move,” he said, as he licked his thumb.

She realized what he had in mind. “Oh please, just let me ri-“

“No, no. And put your hands on your thighs and leave them there.”

She couldn’t help but smile when she protested, “You fucking bast- OOOOHH…”

He had not waited for her to finish what she was saying. He was rubbing her very lightly, and tickling her with her wetness.

She gripped her own thighs. “HOLY F-“

“SSsshh! You’ll wake Sam!” But he didn’t stop. He stroke lightly up and down all the way to himself, almost making a point of avoiding her clit or brushing it only slightly. She looked at him wide-eyed and made little high-pitched sounds. He put a little more pressure around her clit, brushing it as he passed over it. He could already feel her clench around him. He loved watching her breasts move as she breathed. He cupped one. So soft…

But the clenching was building rapidly and he closed his eyes as he kept stroking her, now with both his thumbs, one keeping her clit well exposed and the other working on her. She tried to move her hips forward to get more pressure from his fingers, but he kept her in place. Soon he heard her moan as he heard himself moan and felt her legs trying to close at his sides as she was mercilessly exposed. He felt her coming around him, clenching hard in waves, sending him higher. Their hips jerked and they tried to get even deeper as they were losing all sense of self, their blood rushing so hard they were dizzy.

At some point Dean realized he was hearing Sarah breathe deep but more slowly. He opened his eyes. She opened hers. They smiled at each other.

She bent down and kissed him. “You little jerk,” she said, laughing, as she kissed him again.

He smiled and laughed. “I’m a lazy jerk. We barely moved, hah! How about that!” He flashed a proud smile.

She smiled back at him. “Babe, you’re the best.”

“Ah, yes.” He kissed her, pulled her into him, replaced the sheets over them, and soon, in each other’s arms, their breathing slowed and they fell asleep.

I’d love to hear from you!

Back to the Masterlist

#dean x female!oc #dean x oc #dean fluff #dean smut #dean panther #panther #feline fine #case fic

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bluecoloreddreams · 5 years

Note

Hey, I love your TsukiYama fics, they are so good!!!... and some of them are so sad. But I was wondering, if Yama and Tsukki takes Himawari to her biological parents greaves and explains the situation that got them to adopt her when she is old enough to understand. I like to think that Yama tell his late cousin how their daughter is doing

Oh, thank you!!! So, at first, I was gonna answer this with just like, an author comment, but I can do you better than that:

It’s April again. Time and time again, the spring opens up, cool air mixing into something warm as the cherry blossoms open, replacing the snow with pink drifts of petals.

It’s time for change. They shift from wool coats to felted ones; Tadashi layers his shirts, long-sleeve, short-sleeve, jacket. They open the windows and doors, shooing out the last dregs of winter. The dog goes to the groomer. The cat gets cornered in the bathroom trying to run away from the flea collar. Uniforms get bought in a different size, one grade’s ribbon exchanged for another.

There’s a house, now, in the suburbs of Sendai. A house that’s big enough for them all to spread and grow. The hot water works; the paint is new; there’s a laundry room and the door never sticks in its hinges. There’s a garden, a ramshackle thing with wildflowers and tomatoes and once, corn, straight from the bird feeder (before the cat got the bird, which was a traumatic experience all around).

Tadashi tugs a brush through his hair, mouth full of bobby pins, trying to decide the most reputable way to style his hair. At the clinic, no one really cares what their vet’s hair looks like, as long as he does his job correctly. At home, no one cares either, because if it’s not loose or in a bun, it’s done up in some odd experimental style or another, complete with Hello Kitty scrunchies. His family, on the other hand…

They’ve relaxed in the last few years, considerably. Extended family, not so much, but this is the only time of year he really sees them anymore.

He sighs and pins his bangs back into his ponytail, figuring it will just have to do. He straightens his tie, a silk thing borrowed from Kei with dinosaurs printed up and down the length of it, and if it’s a little bit ridiculous to wear to a seven-year memorial service, then that’s just how it’ll be.

He hears the car pull up, and he slips from the bathroom to pad down the stairs just in time to be nearly barreled over by the dog on one side and a flying mass of pigtails and rumpled school uniform on the other.

He hoists Himawari up, groaning as he spins her around. Eight is probably too old to be carrying her around like he did when she was two, but hours and hours of picking up heavier dogs than her allows him a little more flexibility about it.

“Woah there, you look like you rolled down a hill,” Tadashi says, setting her down.

Kei clicks his tongue at the doorway, leaning down to take his shoes off, holding Himawari’s loafers in his hand. “Tell your papa,” he says, sounding amused.

“Uh.”

Tadashi closes his eyes and counts to five. “Himawari-chan, what did you do now?”

“Sora-chan said I couldn’t have three dads and a mom so I pushed her down the playground slide but she grabbed me,” Himawari says, eyes decidedly not meeting Tadashi’s, suddenly very interested in petting Tikachu the Dog.

Tadashi groans, kneeling down so he’s eye-to-eye with his daughter. “We don’t push,” he says. “You know that.”

Himawari looks away from Tadashi, fidgeting with the ends of her pigtails. “She was being mean, and she said bad things about you and dad, so I pushed her.”

“Show your dad,” Kei says, a smirk barely concealed. His arms are crossed as he leans in the doorway, eyes glinting behind his glasses.

Himawari tips her head back and opens her mouth and Tadashi flinches. “Okay, well! That’s, uh, great! Please close your mouth,” he says, wrinkling his nose at the sight of a missing molar. “Kei, please tell me you have it.”

“Mm. We also have to go buy new stockings,” Kei adds like he’s being helpful.

“Okay! Okay, we’ll address this in a moment!” Tadashi says, standing up with a clap. “Himawari-chan, how about you go get changed while daddy and I talk?”

“Am I in trouble?”

Tadashi shoots Kei a look, who shrugs and spreads his hands out. “You let Nishinoya and Tanaka babysit her growing up, that’s not on me,” he says.

“We’ll talk about fighting later,” Tadashi says. “You can’t fistfight everyone who thinks our family is a little odd, Himawari-chan.”

“Yeah but,” Himawari starts, scowling and ducking her chin into the collar of her uniform. “You are my real dads.”

Tadashi grins then, leaning back up against Kei as he steps up out of the entry. “You’re right,” he says, throat tight as Himawari flashes a toothy grin and flits up the stairs to her bedroom.

“You suck at discipline,” Kei drawls. “And tying ties. Turn around.”

Tadashi turns dutifully, smoothing his fingers over Kei’s shoulders, tapping the sunflower-embossed pin on his lapel. “Keeping that on?”

“I’m always up for intimidating idiots,” Kei drawls, undoing Tadashi’s tie, eyes focused at the other man’s throat. “I go to pick her up and find her in the nurses’ office with a piece of ice and skinned knees and a referral. They were going on about no tolerance until they saw my pin. It was déjà vu.”

“It was because of that project,” Tadashi sighs. “When school started the new term, when you were away at that conference in Tokyo, she did a family history project.”

“I see,” Kei says, looping Tadashi’s tie expertly. “Where’s your blazer?”

“By the door,” Tadashi answers. “I guess the other little girl is new to the school or to the class. Was she hurt?”

“No, her mother ran into me in the parking lot, actually. She was nice,” Kei says offhandedly. He reaches up and tugs a piece of Tadashi’s bangs free, tucking it gently behind his ear. “There you go.”

“Did you make Himawari apologize?”

“What do you take me for?” Kei scoffs.

“A sucker,” Tadashi snickers, ducking when Kei reaches out to ruffle his hair. He reaches out and grabs his blazer from the peg by the door, shrugging it on as Himawari comes thudding down the hallway in her black dress and tights, pigtails a bit lopsided as she grabs Tadashi’s outstretched hand.

Kei takes her other hand, and they both hold her up as she shoves her feet into her obnoxiously sparkly pink boots.

“Daddy got sunflowers,” she tells Tadashi. “He said I could have one.”

“I did not,” Kei snorts. “She stole one out of the bouquet.”

“They’re for my mommy and daddy,” Himawari protests. “One of them needs to be from me.”

“She’s right,” Tadashi points out, letting Himawari tug free of his hand and skip towards the car.

Kei rolls his eyes as Tadashi steps into his shoes. “And you wonder why she’s spoiled,” he complains.

“Oh, no, I know exactly why,” Tadashi laughs.

“Come on!” Himawari cries, tugging at the door handle. “Come oooon! We’re gonna go see my other parents!”

Maybe it was wrong to be so open about Kana and her husband with Himawari from such a young age, or how hard they had to fight to adopt her. But they never wanted to hide it from her, never wanted her to feel like she’d been unwanted or left behind, so they told her in ways she could understand, took her to the graves and set up a shrine in the house and taught her how to leave food and flowers, how to say the prayers. They gave her Kana’s journals, with her tiny footprint and lock of hair; they gave her her father’s rock collection and taught her the names of the tiny gemstones in it. They tried to teach her in the hopes that she could grow and be happy and learn.

April always brought changes, and not all of them good. Every year, Tadashi grapples with how he can be so thankful for something so awful, and he prays. He prays to apologize, to thank, to hope that he’s raising Himawari in the same loving way that his cousin would have. That she always meets their memory with a thankfulness and desire to love them without knowing them. That he and Kei can be the parents that she needs, that they can grow together, until the next time the petals fall.

#asks #mitkun writes stuff #tsukkiyama #haikyuu!!#oh my god I haven't written these two in Y E A R S #but I was OVERCOME #Anonymous

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eightcurioussouls · 6 years

Text

CHAPTER 11: SNOWY TERRAIN.

(( small warning- one of these kids will die, frisk will reload tho, dw ))

The next area didn't seem so bad- a haphazardly-made sentry station was the only thing that rests within it, Olivia had quickly hopped over to inspect it, and burst into laughter, causing Victor to wander over and look at it himself, and he sighed, shaking his head, “Papyrus left a note.” Was all he said, taking Oli’s hand and carrying on, the others following.

The next area held a much better looking sentry station, and Olivia broke away from Victor to head closer, almost jumping away at the monster that pops up.

“Did something move?”

Olivia almost gasps.

“Was it my imagination?”

No, it couldn’t be, could it?

“I can only see moving things. If something WAS moving, for example, a human…”

The girl stood in place, staring dumbfounded at the dog monster. Dog. Puppy. Pet puppy?

“I’ll make sure it NEVER moves again!”

Olivia was pulled into battle, a grin on her face as she watched the monster move.

⚫ Doggo blocks the way!

She goes to pet, looking curious.

⚫ Doggo is too suspicious of your movements.

“Don’t move an inch!” He barks, and he sends out an attack- a knife, as blue as her SOUL- it collides with it, but no damage is taken.

Oli did look a little surprised at that.

⚫ Doggo can’t seem to find anything.

Oli’s fingers twitch as she dives for the pet option, small hands beginning to pet the dog monster, he suddenly seemed oddly surprised, beginning to shout “PET?” as well as a few other words.

Another attack happens, Oli doesn’t move for it.

⚫ Doggo has been pet.

She notices the name in yellow- being quick to spare the dog from her merciless ticklefingers.

Once out of battle, the dog seemed, as Victor would say, shooketh, “S-s-s-something pet me… something isn’t m-m-moving… I’m gonna need some dog treats for this!!!” He ducks into his station, and Oli looked at the others, grinning.

After that debacle (and Victor asking, ‘do dogs think of treats as weed?’), they head onwards.

The next area greeted them with Sans! Victor dies a little on the inside. “hey,” he calls out to them, “here’s something important to remember.” Diction raises an eyebrow curiously at that, “Oh?” “my brother has a very special attack.” He started, “if you see a blue attack, don’t move and it won’t hurt you.” “Fuckin’ gathered that.” Victor grumbled.

“here’s an easy way to keep it in mind, imagine a stop sign. when you see a sign, you stop, right? stop signs are red. so imagine a blue stop sign instead. simple, right? when fighting, think about blue stop signs.” He stated, Gracie gave a nod, “Right, thank you.” She murmured. During all of this, Frisk had headed upwards, coming back with a small fistful of snow, they gave the others a nod, and they carry on.

They come across a flat piece of land- and the two skeletons- Victor narrowed his eyes, “Wasn’t he just- what the fuck??” He muttered, Diction sighed, “Let’s not question it.” He replied.

“YOU’RE SO LAZY!!! YOU WERE NAPPING ALL NIGHT!!” Papyrus boomed, earning a grin from Andres- loud noises, his favourite. Sans shrugged at him, smiling as usual, “i think that’s called… sleeping.” He responded, “EXCUSES, EXCUSES!” The taller skeleton stated, and finally took notice of the group, “OH-HO! THE HUMANS ARRIVE!” He exclaimed, Andres giggled softly.

“IN ORDER TO STOP YOU… MY BROTHER AND I CREATED SOME PUZZLES!” He stated, “I THINK YOU WILL FIND THIS ONE… QUITE SHOCKING!!” The kids all look at each other, oh no.

“FOR YOU SEE, THIS IS THE INVISIBLE… ELECTRICITY MAZE!! WHEN YOU TOUCH THE WALLS OF THIS MAZE, THIS ORB WILL ADMINISTER A HEARTY ZAP!” He holds out a blue sphere, “SOUND LIKE FUN?? BECAUSE! THE AMOUNT OF FUN YOU WILL PROBABLY HAVE, IS ACTUALLY RATHER SMALL I THINK.” He rubs his jaw with a gloved hand, Andres already looked really excited! He doesn’t know why, but that sounded great. “OK, YOU CAN GO AHEAD NOW.”

The kids look between each other again, not noticing how Andres stepped into the maze, only realising too late-

ZAP.

Andres covered his mouth, stumbling back as Papyrus got shocked. The skeleton stood for a few seconds, before-

“SANS! WHAT DID YOU DO?!” “i think one’a the humans have to hold the orb.” “OH, OKAY.” The kids watch as the tall skeleton shuffles through the maze, noticing the tracks he left behind before he carefully places the orb on the ridge of Andres’ cowboy hat, “HOLD THIS PLEASE.” He chirped, and headed back.

“OKAY, TRY NOW!” He called, and Andres looked at the floor, retracing his steps carefully, the others begin to follow suit, like a conga line, again.

Once out of there, Papyrus gapes, “INCREDIBLE!! YOU SLIPPERY SNAILS!” Andres giggled at that, “YOU SOLVED IT SO EASILY… TOO EASILY!” Victor goes to open his mouth to tell him about the footprints, but Gracie’s stare causes him to cease, “HOWEVER!” Papyrus continues, “THE NEXT PUZZLE WILL NOT BE SO EASY!! IT IS DESIGNED BY MY BROTHER, SANS!” He gestures to the other skeleton, “YOU WILL SURELY BE CONFOUNDED! I KNOW I AM! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!” He then proceeds to moonwalk away, Victor just, stared, “He better teach me how to do that.” This entire time, Frisk had been chatting to Sans, too, they seemed to be talking about a costume, once they were done, the children carried onwards.

Cason had rushed off to the nearby vendor within the area, almost excited, he bought four items from them before coming back to the others and passing them out, “We can share them- there’s two of them on each treat.” He exclaimed, showing the Bisicle to the group. Frisk gave a soundless chuckle, and the group spent a few minutes figuring out the nearby Ball Game, too, especially since Frisk had nabbed the red flag for the game- they took note of their virtues, the traits that define them- and Diction glanced to Frisk, “Y’know… they don’t really have a name for your SOUL.” He stated softly, curious, Frisk shrugged, and signed to him, ‘Most people call it Determination. It’s not the real name, but it’s something we generally accept.’ Diction nods to that. And they head on again.

“HUMANS!!!” Papyrus yells as they walk up, “I HOPE YOU’RE READY FOR…” He stares at the ‘puzzle’, a sheet of paper on the floor, and looked to his brother, “SANS!! WHERE’S THE PUZZLE!!” “it’s right there. on the ground.” Diction had walked over to it, picking it up, “trust me. there’s no way they can get past this one.”

“Of course we wouldn’t.” Diction replied, “You deliberately changed one of the words in the puzzle, we wouldn’t be able to finish it.”

“OR WE COULD-” Victor started, irritated, he walked past Diction, and stood next to Papyrus, “-DO THAT, YOU FUCKING RASPBERRY CROISSANT.”

Now Papyrus looked a bit annoyed, “SANS!! THAT DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!!” He yelled, “whoops. i knew i should’ve used today’s crossword.” Sans chortled, “WHAT?! CROSSWORD?! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT! IN MY OPINION… JUNIOR JUMBLE IS EASILY THE HARDEST.” “what? really, dude? that easy peasy word scramble?” Sans raises a figurative eyebrow, “that’s for baby bones.” “UN. BELIEVABLE.” He turns to the group, “HUMANS! SOLVE THIS DISPUTE.” He exclaimed.

Without even missing a beat, Oli yelled, “JUNIOR JUMBLE!” Victor gave her a questioning look, Papyrus, however, cheers, “HA! HA! YES! HUMANS MUST BE VERY INTELLIGENT...” In the midst, Oli leans to Victor, “It’s hard because I can barely read English.” She mumbled sheepishly, Papyrus continues, “IF THEY ALSO FIND JUNIOR JUMBLE SO DIFFICULT! NYEH! HEH! HEH HEH!” He runs off, Victor huffs, folding his arms, “thanks for saying junior jumble just to appease my bro.” Sans piped up, “yesterday he got stuck trying to ‘solve’ the horoscope.” He added, the kids gave a collective sigh, and carry on.

They come across spaghetti in the next area, and Olivia gasps, heading over to it, it was so cold, it was stuck to the table.

But does that stop Olivia? Apparently, it doesn’t, she grabs the nearby fork, stabs it into the frozen spaghetti, yanks out a piece- Victor distantly goes, “Olivia Jamee Bianchi, what the fuck? How did you do that, that was stuck to the table, what-”- and bites down on it, she stands there, chewing for a few seconds before looking at the others and grinning, “It’s good!” She exclaimed.

The others stare at her, dumbfounded, and Cason had to rip her away before she went back for more. Frisk had saved meanwhile, and Diction inspected the area- and the note left nearby from Papyrus- before heading onwards.

The sign by them in the next piece of the forest held a sign, only warning them of ‘dog marriage’, for some reason, it gave Gracie of all people chills. The kids took a few steps forward, and-

⚫ Lesser Dog appears.

Andres was pulled into battle. The boy checked his options, blinking, and went for one of the pet options.

His eyes widen as Lesser Dog’s neck expands.

He then proceeds to take the next five minutes of petting and dodging attacks, which just makes the dog’s neck grow and grow.

“Andres.” Victor called out. No response, “Andres.” Nothing.

“ANDRES ABEL DIAZ SO HELP ME GOD IF YOU DON’T SPARE THE DOG NOW I WILL COME OVER THERE-”

Andres turns to stare at him, pouting, before begrudgingly sparing the dog, “Thank fuck.” Victor muttered, the boy waddled over, now looking like a sad puppy.

Once looking around the area, the children realise that they need to pull a switch to proceed, it took them a solid three minutes to find it, Frisk had taken a moment to head back to save, and they carry onwards.

They all halt when they see a pair of dogs with axes come forward, Gracie pushes the children back, concerned, “What’s that smell?” One asks, “(Where’s that smell?)” The other asks, “If you’re a smell…” “(Identify yoursmellf!)” They proceed to walk around the area, before stopping by Gracie.

“Hm… here’s that weird smell.” The first stated, “It makes me want to eliminate.” Gracie’s breath catches in her throat, “(...Eliminate YOU!)”

They lunge for her, dragging her into a battle.

⚫ Dogi assault you!

Gracie wheezes, looking around- before looking at her options, she chooses to check Dogamy.

⚫ DOGAMY - 6 ATK 4 DEF.

⚫ Husband of Dogaressa.

⚫ Knows only what he smells.

She frowns at that, vaguely hearing a “Don’t touch my hotdog!” And a “(He means me.)” Before getting smacked with a pair of axes.

They whittle down 8 HP from her.

INTEGRITY: 12/20 HP.

She wheezes, fumbling blindly due to shock, she accidentally checks Dogamy again- getting the same result- she vaguely hears the others yell, they were panicking.

She gets attacked by dogs throwing hearts this time- she just barely avoids one hit, but another heart hits her.

INTEGRITY: 8/20 HP.

Was she… going to die? No- not now, she may have no items but she can’t give up.

⚫ The dogs keep shifting their axes to protect each other.

Gracie bit her lip, and decided to check Dogaressa this time.

⚫ DOGARESSA - 6 ATK 4 DEF

⚫ This puppy finds her hubby lovely.

⚫ SMELLS ONLY?

Another ring of hearts is thrown at her- she takes a hit from one, and then the other ring hits her full force.

INTEGRITY: 0/20 HP.

She screams.

Victor lets out a devastating “NO!” When Gracie’s body hits the floor, a SOUL of deep blue rising up only to be encased in a small container, Diction placed a hand on Frisk’s shoulder, eyes wide, “Load, Frisk, load!” He exclaimed, Cason was trying to quell the sobs of the youngest two, Oli cries for ‘mama', and Andres was throwing a tearful fit.

Frisk shakily nods, fumbling through the menu quickly as the dogs re-sniff for their next victim.

Finditfinditfindut- THERE. They slam their hand on the LOAD button, mumbling inaudibly.

‘Mom, come back- please come back. I don't want to lose anyone else!’

[LOAD.]

(( aaa, gosh i'm so sorry this took so long! I ended up powering through this at like... 12:30 am this morning and it took two hours to type up six pages on my phone buT ANYWays me? murdering the mom friend? yes i may also make a new fic for side stories, that delve deeper into the kids' backstories and what happens during timeskips, too! anyways, i'd appreciate any constructive criticism and i'd love to hear your thoughts on this so far <3!! ))

#Runaway Patience. {Olivia.}#Abandoned Bravery. {Cason.}#Shot Down Integrity. {Gracie.}#Forgotten Perseverance. {Diction.}#Abused Kindness. {Victor.}#Neglected Justice. {Andres.}#Fallen Determination. {Micah/Frisk.}#story line #storyline #frisk (undertale)#undertale human souls #undertale fallen humans #cyan soul #orange soul #blue soul #purple soul #green soul #yellow soul

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theycallmebeccawrites · 6 years

Text

Chris & Ellie Bonus: Father’s Day 2019

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: G

Warnings: n/a

Summary: Chris celebrating his first father’s day

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Chris & Ellie Bonus Stories Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Father's Day 2019

June 16, 2019

Super Bowl LI was playing on the TV as Chris sat on the couch with four-month-old Tommy in his arms. Neither was really watching the game, instead Chris was watching his son pull on Dodger's ears while the dog sat next to them on the couch perfectly content. It was no secret that the dog loved the baby and had since they'd brought Tommy home from the hospital.

As Chris watched the dog and baby interact, he couldn't help but think back to this time last year. He and Ellie had been trying to get pregnant for over a year and a half without any success and had agreed to visit a specialist once they'd gotten back to Oregon after spending the summer in Massachusetts with his family. As luck would have it, however, a romantic getaway in England following the Avengers: Infinity War premiere had resulted in a positive pregnancy test about six weeks later.

In fact, Ellie had taken the pregnancy test on his 37th birthday and had told him that night once they'd returned to the small, basement apartment in his mom's house. They'd both cried happy tears and had decided to share the news with their family two days later, on Father's Day. They'd shared the news via a video call with her family while in the living room of his mom's house with his family. There had been lots of shouts of joy, lots of tears and hugs galore.

They'd spent the summer in Massachusetts as planned and then had spent the fall in LA while he'd filmed a movie. They'd traveled home to Oregon once a month to meet with her doctor and had returned to the state for good the week after Thanksgiving. (They'd celebrated the holiday in LA and his family had traveled to California to spend the week with them, taking their annual Disney trip a few weeks early and at Disneyland.) Christmas and New Year’s had been spent with Ellie's family in Oregon and they'd counted down the days until Robert Thomas's arrival.

Tommy had arrived a week and a half early on February 3 aka Super Bowl Sunday. He'd been the perfect baby, too. Chris had spent every day of those first two months with Tommy and Ellie, enjoying every second of being a dad, even on those nights where they hadn't gotten much sleep.

Then the mid of April had come and he'd had to leave for his final Marvel press tour. Ellie, Tommy and her family had traveled to LA with him and they'd all attended the movie premiere with him while Tommy had stayed with Ellie's aunt and uncle. Then Ellie and Tommy had traveled to Boston with Chris's family while Chris had started the international leg of the press tour.

They'd had nightly video chats while he'd been gone and had reunited three weeks later in New York City before he'd joined them at his mom's house for the summer. They'd been here for a month now and Chris had been taking the early morning shifts with Tommy so Ellie could go back to sleep after feeding the baby.

It was these quiet mornings with his baby boy that Chris loved the most. It gave them time to bond before they went upstairs to spend time with the rest of the family where Tommy was happily passed around and showered with attention. What they did during the time together depended on Tommy's mood. On mornings like this, where he was awake and giggly, they watched Patriots' football. Whereas, on the mornings where he was grumpy or still sleepy, Chris would cuddle him and either sing, read books or talk to him. During the last few weeks, they'd spent more time watching football than anything else. Or rather, Chris listened to football while watching Tommy interact with Dodger.

Wanting to document this special Father's Day, Chris set Tommy on the couch so he was propped up between the back of the couch and Dodger's torso. Grabbing his phone, Chris snapped a photo of his two boys, seconds before Dodger jumped up and began to lick Tommy's face. The baby looked startled at first, but then let out a delighted shriek which soon at Dodger barking happily.

"Shh," Chris said, chuckling as he darted his eyes over to the partially opened bedroom door. "You're gonna wake up mommy." He picked up Tommy and settled the baby back in his lap. Then, using one hand, he composed a tweet and shared the photo with his Twitter followers.

"Watching Patriots football with my little guy and our best friend on my first #FathersDay #FuturePatsFan"

He posted the tweet and then put his phone aside. He kissed Tommy's head and breathed in the unique baby smell. Sometimes, he couldn't wait for his little boy to get bigger, but he knew that someday he'd miss him being this little.

A loud "TOUCHDOWN!" startled both father and son and Chris grabbed his cell phone, knowing that it was the tone for Ellie sending him a text:

That last hashtag should say #Future12thMan

Chris chuckled at his wife's reference to the fans of the Seattle Seahawks and then said, loudly, "I thought you were sleeping."

Ellie appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, a second later, and was greeted by a squeal from Tommy. The baby began to squirm in Chris's arms as Ellie made her way over to the couch with the aging Daisy following her. The nine-year-old dog settled herself into her dog bed and ignored them all as she went back to sleep.

After passing the baby to his momma, Chris let his eyes wander over to where Daisy slept. He and Ellie had gone back and forth about whether or not to bring her with them this summer, but they'd ultimately decided they couldn't be without her; especially since she was already towards the end of her life. Other than aging joints, she was pretty healthy and he hoped she stayed that way a bit longer.

Of their pets, only their cat Mickey had stayed back in Oregon, as he did every summer. They'd adopted Mickey while they'd been in Georgia back in 2017 and the cat had not enjoyed the flight back to LA that fall and he had especially hated the drive to Oregon when they'd moved there. So rather than deal with a pissed off cat, they'd left him home with Ellie's cousin who was housesitting for them.

"Are you really watching this whole game?" Ellie asked, drawing Chris's attention back to the TV. "You're really going to make him suffer through three quarters of heartbreak?"

Chris glanced at her and could tell she was just busting his chops as she fought back a smile. If there was anyone who could appreciate the way the Patriots had come back to beat the Falcons, it was his wife. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but respond to her goading, "You have to watch the whole game. You can't get the full thrill of the win without it. It would be an 'that's awesome' as opposed to a 'holy sh-'" His voice trailed off as his eyes dropped down to the baby who was smiling up at him.

"Nice save," Ellie said, smoothing her hand over Tommy's hair. "As much as it pains me to do so, this was probably the most exciting football game I've watched."

"It's a Father's Day miracle!" Chris exclaimed, throwing his fist in the air. His excitement was contagious as Tommy began to shriek happily and Dodger began to bark. Reaching over, Chris tickled the baby's feet, making his squeals turn to giggles. Meanwhile, Dodger barked happily, his tail thumping against the couch cushions.

"You three are quite the comedy act," Ellie said, shaking her head. Looking down at the baby, she asked, "Should we go get daddy's present?" He babbled back to her. "Alright, we'll be right back."

Ellie carried Tommy back to the bedroom with Dodger following, the dog obviously not wanting to let his best friend out of his sight. Chris turned his attention to the TV and cringed as Tom Brady was sacked. He watched Atlanta score another touchdown before Ellie and Tommy returned to the room.

His wife had changed Tommy into a white onesie that had a bearded face printed on it and "I have a fuzzy daddy" written on it. Chris threw his head back and laughed.

"That's perfect," he told Ellie.

"We thought it was perfect, too," Ellie agreed. She then handed Chris a wrapped present and a card. "But here's your real present."

Going with tradition, Chris opened the card first and felt tears pool in his eyes as he looked at the homemade card. Ellie had turned a footprint and handprint of Tommy's onto a piece of paper and had turned it into a superhero by adding a face and hands. She had then printed "You are my superhero" on the card.

"This is amazing," he said, sniffing. Leaning over, he gave Ellie a kiss and then leaned down and kissed the top of Tommy's head. Settling back, Chris tore off the wrapping paper and opened a narrow box, pulling out a picture frame. Each of the six photo slots had a picture in it. There was a close up of Tommy sleeping, one of Tommy dressed in his Patriots’ onesie with eye black on his cheeks, a photo of Tommy in his Red Sox gear with Wally the Green Monster, one of Tommy wearing a Captain America costume that one of Ellie's aunts had made him, a photo of the three of them on the day Tommy was born, and a photo of Chris sleeping with Tommy asleep on his chest.

Chris didn't realize he was crying until he felt Ellie drying his face with her thumb.

"I love it," he said, looking at his wife through blurry eyes. "You've made this my best Father's Day ever." They both laughed at his lame joke. He moved so he could wrap his arm around her and then gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

Despite having a full day of family activities ahead of them, the three of them watched the rest of the football game. It was only after the final touchdown, however, that Chris and Ellie realized that Tommy had fallen asleep at some point.

"Told you he's going to be a future 12th man," Ellie teased.

Chris just rolled his eyes.

Want to find me off tumblr? I’m @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you’d like to be added!

#chris evans #theycallmebecca #beccaheartschrisevans #theycallmebeccawrites #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris and ellie series #chris and ellie #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x original female character

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whycantihavemorethan32characters · 6 years

Text

Sweet Child O’ Mine

@just-get-all-the-butterflies

Pairings: Platonic moxiety

Trigger warnings: gun violence, death, blood, gunshot wound, homophobia, angst. Oh so much angst. No happy ending, it’s just sad

AUs: Human AU

Word Count: 2120

They heard heavy breathing in the distance, Patton immediately perking up and looking through the trees, trying to find the source of the noise. “Virgil! Kiddo! Is that you?!” he called out, desperately hoping for a reply. The others followed suit, yelling until their lungs were about to burst and their vocal chords felt like they could tear in half. It was the middle of the night, Logan having lost his glasses, and Patton not being able to see through his tears, Roman was leading the group, being the eyes for both of them. Luckily, those eyes had 20/20 vision, because he suddenly stopped the group in favor of staring at the ground.

“What is it? Why did you stop?” Logan’s confused tone echoed through the empty park. “There’s-there’s footprints. I think” He crouched down, and tried to feel for a break in the dirt, or whatever was causing the dark ovular shape on the path. His fingers felt liquid. He hoped and prayed that it was just water. That he had just stuck his hand in a small puddle. But it was sticky, and warm, and half congealed. Water doesn’t usually congeal.

Three hours earlier

Pride was almost over. It was 8:00 pm sharp, and the boys were about ready to head home. Roman wanted to stay out all night drinking and celebrating...well, himself. However, Logan deemed it unwise, Virgil deemed it unsafe, and Patton was practically falling asleep where he stood. He had been up all night baking rainbow cakes, and pancakes, and cupcakes, and virtually any other thing with the word “cake” in it. After much persuasion, Roman conceded and they started to get back in the car, Roman in shotgun, Logan driving, Virgil and Patton in the backseat.

“Virgil, are you showing Patton more of that PG-13 music again?” Roman loved to tease Virgil for his music tastes, as if listening to Broadway and Disney 24/7 was normal. “No,” Virgil sneered, “Patton’s pretty much out cold.” Logan began to pull out of his parking space, leaving the festivities behind. “Well that’s good. A proper sleeping schedule is im-” He was cut off by a strange, almost explosion-like sound from far away. “What was that?!” Virgil’s eyes immediately went wide in fear. “Probably just fireworks.” Roman explained it away. “People set them off all the time, it’s fine.”

“Yeah.” Logan agreed. “Fireworks.” Patton had been woken up by the sound and Virgil was trying to console him, even though he himself was obviously in a state of panic. He was trying to do his breathing exercises and was furiously pulling his sleeve zipper up and down. It was noticeable that Logan was driving just slightly above the speed limit, which he had never done, and vowed never to do. The sound came again, but louder, ergo closer this time. The car in front of them crashed.

11:05

“Pa-.” Patton heard from what sounded like just a few yards way. Immediately, he started sprinting towards the noise, leaving the other two behind. They ran after him, but halted at the scene before them. Patton was on his knees, leaning over a bleeding Virgil who was breathing much too heavily. Patton looked down at him, sobbing and trying to put pressure on the wound. Virgil grabbed his wrist and made eye contact. He started singing, soft and high, which was unusual seeing as he was always so self conscious about his voice.

“I did exactly as you said, pa. I held my head up high.” Patton recognized the melody and sang the accompanying part. “I know, I know. You did everything just right.” He sniffled. “But now isn’t the time for Hamilton.” Virgil chuckled, and winced at the discomfort in his torso, “Nah,” he whispered, shaking his head. “More like Guns N’ Roses.” He lifted both their hands and peeked at the bloody bullet wound.

Three hours earlier

Logan swerved onto the sidewalk, almost crashing the car into a tree, but narrowly avoiding the accident in front of them. They all hopped out of the car to see what was going on. That noise, which had been confirmed to be a gunshot, kept repeating. People were screaming, police sirens were wailing, and the four held onto each other tightly, Patton now fully awake and praying that his friends would be safe, swearing to himself to take a bullet for them if need be. The other three were doing the same.

“Okay. Um, everyone back in the car. We need to leave, now.” Logan opened Roman’s door and went around to his side. Patton took Virgil by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I need you to try to stay calm, alright? I know it’s scary; I’m scared too. But you need to hold your head up high and get through this, okay?” Virgil nodded, the rest of him convulsing in fear. “Patton, we need to go now! Get in the-”

A bullet just narrowly missed Roman, nestling itself into the hood of the car. Virgil spooked at the loud noise and danger, immediately bolting in the opposite direction, into a thickly wooded park. Patton screamed his name and ran after him; Logan tried to get out of the car, only to trip in his frantic haze and fall face forward, smashing his glasses and causing his nose to bleed. Roman picked him up and started running with him towards Patton, who was a few yards ahead of them, Virgil just a speck in the distance.

11:13

Logan covered his mouth, understanding what was going on even though he couldn’t see it. Roman started crying rageful tears, kicking the bushes and trees. “Who? Who did it? Virgil, did you see?!” He yelled into the otherwise vacant woods. “No. He ran past me. Some skinhead with shitty tattoos.” Patton continued to try to comfort him. “Shh, shh. Okay, it’s okay, kiddo. Just keep breathing, And stay awake. You’re gonna be okay.” He took Virgil into his arms, sitting them upright, and getting blood on his clothes and hands. “Liar liar” Virgil started, in between coughs, “pants on fire, Popstar.”

Roman knelt down next to them and pet Virgil’s hair. “Hold on, hot topic. Just for a little longer. Logan’s calling 911, just stay with us for a little longer. Hold on.” The wounded man smiled. “Aww, you think i’m hot.” Roman smiled back and continued to comfort him. Logan kneeled, trying to pry Virgil from Patton as to see the wound better. “Patton, we need to put pressure on the wound. I need you to let go so I can help.” Patton laid Virgil down on the ground and Logan winced at the state of just Virgil’s shirt, let alone his bare abdomen. Even though it was blurry, he could tell the copious amount of blood was mixed with sand and dirt. He borrowed Patton’s glasses and assessed the situation.

“Roman, you have a water bottle, right? Or alcohol of some sort? There’s dirt everywhere, and it’s just going to make this worse.” Roman nodded, getting his water bottle and handing it to Logan, who then lifted Virgil’s shirt to see the mess of dirt, sweat, and blood cluttering a gaping bullet wound. “I am by no means a doctor,” Logan began, “but I’m trying to go on common sense here, along with what medical knowledge I may have. And I would suppose that making sure the wound is clean and putting pressure on it would be two very high priorities.” He poured the water over Virgil’s torso, and watched as the muscles squirmed underneath the skin in pain, dirt, sweat, and dried blood giving way to pale skin and fresh, liquid crimson pouring from the lesion.

“Who has a cloth? Preferably a steril one.” Patton pulled his rainbow beach towel from his tote bag, almost dropping it. “How about this?” Logan nodded, and held out his hand. Patton tossed it with perfect accuracy, and Logan put it on Virgil, pressing down hard. “Just try to breath, Virgil. The ambulance will be here in ten minutes. Deep breaths, please try to regulate your respiratory system.”

Three hours earlier

The three of them had made it into the small patch of forest, Logan refusing to use his flashlight to conserve battery so they could call someone, and desperately looking for Virgil in the dark. Logan couldn’t see that well and was having to breathe through his mouth, Patton was stumbling over every other root and stone, and Roman was trying to apply what he and Logan remembered from being boy scouts together, seeing if they could maybe track Virgil, even in the dark.

To their mutual horror and heartbreak, another gunshot ripped through the air. It came from the forest this time instead of the road. A familiar “Agh” and accompanying groan fell on the group’s ears.“Virgil!” Patton screamed, tripping his way along the crude path towards the sound.

Meanwhile, Virgil had doubled over in pain at the same spot, now on his knees, crawling in the dark and clutching his side, searching for safety. The adrenaline was still running on high, pumping through his body at an alarming rate, dulling the pain and distracting him from his friends, who he heard shouting in the distance. Eventually, he just slumped up against a tree in a patch of dirt, looking at his blood stained shirt. One of his hands was caked in moist black dirt, and he could see the blood he had left behind where grass and dirt met manufactured sand pathway. As the adrenaline rush dulled, the pain increased, and he groaned, pressing down with both hands at the splitting pain.

11:17

Virgil was having water bottles pressed to his mouth, forcing him to take in as many fluids as possible. His shirt had been taken off and discarded, and Patton was behind him, holding him and crying. Just six minutes till the ambulance came. His friends were gathered around him, as if they were gathering around his corpse. He had a foreboding feeling, and for whatever reason, this vague emotion set his body and mind back into a state of panic. Death had the vantage point right now, and Virgil started hyperventilating at the thought.

“Vir-Virgil. Calm down. Regulate your breathing, deep and slow. In for four, hold of seven, out for eight. Patton, please help him calm down.” Patton looked down at Virgil, holding his hand and trying his best to smile and be calming. “Virgil, we need you to breathe. What would help you breathe? Do you want me to sing, like after you have nightmares?” The panic-stricken man nodded, trying to slow his breathing the best he could, squeezing Patton’s hand, holding on for, literally, dear life.

“Yes? Yes. Okay, I can sing for you. I can do that.” Patton took a deep breath, then started pouring out a soft, sweet melody. “He’s got a smile, it seems to me. Reminds me of childhood” he choked up “memories. Where everything. Was as fresh as the bright blue sky. Now and then when I see his face. He takes me away to that special place. And if I’d stare too long I’d probably break down and cry. Oh, oh, oh, sweet child o’ mine.” He paused and looked down, almost smiling, to see that Virgil’s eyes were closed, and Patton realized that he was no longer squeezing his hand. His face fell.

“Virgil?” he patted the younger man’s cheek. “Virgil get up, you have to stay awake, remember? Remember you need to be awake until the ambulance gets here. Remember? Virgil?” Logan took one of his arms, and put two fingers against his wrist, then against his neck. Looking at Patton, he let one single tear roll down his cheek, and just stared at his friend. Patton rushed his ear to Virgil’s chest. What followed was the loudest silence to ever pierce his eardrum.

He stopped breathing. He couldn’t breathe. He just looked into the distance, held Virgil tight in his arms, petting his hair, and rocking them both back and forth, singing all the while. “Oh, oh, oh, sweet child o’ mine.” He repeated the same phrase over and over again. “Oh, oh, oh, sweet child o’ mine.” Sirens sounded in the distance, and they could see flashing lights in their peripheral. “Oh, oh, oh, sweet child o’ mine.” Logan checked his watch. 11:24. The ambulance had taken eleven minutes to arrive.

“Oh, oh, oh, sweet child o’ mine.”

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prompt-master · 6 years

Text

For my darling @toosicktoocare, I hope it's to your liking!

It's been 3 years since the success of the peaceful protests and everything is perfect. Prosperity between humans and androids has been achieved, and Hank and Connor lived a happy life since.

...yeah that would be nice isn't it.

Connor opened his eyes. He found that since becoming deviant and shutting out Amanda from his software he was able to...create his own sort of images. Not something calculated, something created. It was strange, new, but also nice. It was especially comforting to him to think of a world where everything was peachy-keen and he wasn't currently a dog walker while Hank got yelled at for disciplinary issues- again.

Connor may be a deviant now, but he was made for what he was made for. He was supposed to be a detective AI who specialized in tracking down rouge deviants. Not...dog walking. It wasn't terrible it was just...well Connor isn't really sure what's he's feeling. He's still trying to figure out what ARE feelings and what isn't just in his code. He watched Sumo lazily trot along in the grass.

Connor smiled, "you are a lot like your owner, Sumo."

Connor imagined if he, a robot, could understand and feel. Then Sumo could too. So when Sumo wagged his tail at him it was like a vauge sense of understanding between them. Connor continued walking Sumo, calculating the best dog walking routes and deciding that Sumo had a little too much weight on him and needed more exercise anyway.

Despite staying with the Luteniet for a few months now, he's never actually taken Sumo out for a walk until now. It was actually somewhat stressful. He knew that Sumo was one of the most important things in Hank's life, especially after spending more than enough time with him. He just...didn't want to mess up. Now he had all these confusing emotions and new processes, he didn't want it to get in the way of his life. It already got in the way of a few cases...

"Lt. Anderson will likely take a while, as he typically spends at least 45 minutes at a bar after experiencing emotional distress. This gives us plenty of time to get in some much needed walking for you, Sumo "

Sumo panted, then walked over to smell another dog's butt.

"Oh she's so cute! Is she an android or real?"

Connor looked up at the voice, a young lady walking the dog that Sumo was currently preoccupied with. Out of habit he instantly began scanning her, noticing the LED on the side of her head, the ring on her finger, and getting her name from a facial scan.

"He's real" Connor nodded towards Sumo.

Emily smiled, pressing her hands together, "It's been a while since I've seen a real dog. Oh, my wife would love to see this! She simply adores real dogs."

Immediately Connor analyzed and realized that Emily was much more in tune with her new deviated emotions and how to express them. This was something Connor could do. This was a chance to just observe and adapt. He could understand himself a little better.

Another woman walked over to them, by the LED light and scan he deduced that she was a deviant named Jessie. As the two of them coddled over Sumo one of the first things he noticed was exaggerated motion, not such stiff posture. Most importantly, a more relaxed demeanor. Relaxed huh? Connor could start with that. He relaxed his arms and back, hands loosening.

Jessie and Emily stood up to face Connor with kind friendly smiles.

Jessie pressed her hand to Emily's, before turning to Connor, "thank you for letting me see your dog. I just love them"

Connor nodded, "of course."

Emily sighed, leaning against her wife, "Sorry if we bothered you on your walk. There aren't many real animals around anymore."

Connor looked at their own dog, a small little yippy puppy. "Yours is an android?"

Jessie nodded with a remorseful look, "unlike us, our little pup isn't so complicated. I wonder is he even knows his two mom's are deviants"

"I never thought I'd see deviants who dislike android pets." Connor stated bluntly.

Emily laughed nervously, "yes well...sometimes it feels like everything about him is preprogrammed, not AI. But at the same time, humans thought the same about us" she sighed, "it's so complicated!"

Jessie laughed, hugging her wife's shoulders, "What matters is that despite our slight preferences we still love our little prince pup! But hey, we should get going! It was very nice meeting you Connor"

Connor nodded again, unlike them he was much more mechanical and thinking. It wasn't that he didn't feel, he just didn't know what to do with it.

He gave an awkward wave, "yes, bye. Perhaps we'll see each other again"

He waited until the couple was gone to set up his preset walking route again. "Ok Sumo, we only have 30 minuetes left on our walk now. We need to get a move...."

Connor looked down to where Sumo had previously been, under a bench. Only to find that the leash he was holding before was just.. completely gone.

He stared down at his hands, his think quicking processors already figuring out the problem. While he was distracted by the couple, he had relaxed his hands. It must have slipped away without him noticing. Oh god. He lost Sumo. Hank was gonna mash him into 100 individual Connor tin cans.

Ok relax Connor relax. You're a top state of the art detective robot. You can find one dog in half an hour.

But...he shouldn't have even been capable of losing Sumo THAT easily.

It's fine. He was confident in his abilities to search. He couldn't have gone far first of all. Sumo was a rather lazy dog, slow and sluggish. And he tracked some snow away, indicating the general direction he headed off in. Connor lifted his head, a quick scan of the area alerted him of a hotdog stand across the street. The scent could have attracted Sumo.

Except...when he questions and looked around the hotdog stand, there was no sign of Sumo. He tried to look through the memories of other androids, except now that they were all deviants they weren't so keen to being used like that. Ok well. That's fine, in fact it's great. There were no distinguishable footprints anymore since so many people in the area were walking over them again and again. Sumo was playing with a dog last he saw him right? So logically Sumo would have followed some other dogs. The dog park would be the smartest place to check next.

...another cold trail. This was looking less and less hopeful. But Connor could stay calm. He was a police bot who negotiated with criminals. Even when he failed he didn't really fail. Connor couldn't fail. He won't.

He almost had himself calmed again when suddenly his vision filled up with a notification indicating he had a call from Hank.

Oh god. Oh god if he answered the call Hank would be able to see what he could through his phone. Hank would see that he didn't have Sumo with him.

Normally in tense situations like this Connor could analyze all the possible choices and make a decision based on the most probable and desirable outcome. Except this time...panic was gripping Connor like a fist. He ended up just, letting the call ring until the notification left, leaving a 'missed call' banner in its wake.

Ok. Crisis temporally averted. Except this meant that Hank didn't go drinking after all, which left him with way less time to find Sumo. In fact knowing Hank he was already looking for him.

He took a step forward, but another call filled his vision.

If Connor could take a deep breath he would. Instead he took a moment to calm himself and turned his phone function to mute.

He had to hurry. It was snowing much heavier now, hopefully since Hank didn't know he left his usual dog walking route it would take him a while to find him.

So Connor kept searching. And searching. He wouldn't fail he couldn't. How could he face Hank again if he did? A half hour of searching turned into an hour, which turned into three. It was starting to get dark now.

Connor sat down on a bench coated in snow and put a hand to his chest. "What...do I do"

He felt so...lost. And this strange unpleasant rush going through him didn't help. It made him feel like everything was going wrong, like it would be better to just runn away. But...the fact that Hank deserved to know what happened to Sumo was much stronger. He pressed the dog leash to his forehead, and turned on notifications again on his phone function.

Connor frowned, he had 38 missed calls and 4 texts from Hank asking him where he was. He couldn't keep this from him any longer. Besides he had already searched in the snow for 3 hours, maube his dedication to trying to fix his mistake will lessen Hank's anger.

Connor felt strange though. Like he didn't want to move. He felt heavy. He just wanted to shut down for a bit. For a half hour at least. He felt cold too, his thermoregulator must be malfunctioning..his body had begun to shiver to try and keep his functions in working order. But he was still cold.

He stood up, if anything would keep him from freezing completely it would be walking home. Another 20 minuetes on the clock.

By the time Connor reached home, his legs were sluggish and heavy. They made heavy clanks with each step he took. His shivers were getting intense enough to be the only thing he could focus on aside from the raging worry and other emotions affecting him.

He opened up the door, head low and hair covered in snow.

Almost right after he heard footsteps running downstairs, "Connor! Is that you?"

God he..he couldn't look up at Hank. He couldn't see his reaction.

"What the fuck Connor? I was about to call the cops i thought you went fucking missing!" Within seconds Hank had gotten a few inches away from him. He pointed an accusing finger to Connors chest, "why did you ignore my calls- I know they go straight you your empty head....woah"

Hank paused, taking a step back. Something somber washing over him at the way Connor quietly shivered with his head low, "...what happened?"

"..." It was now or never Connor. "Lt. Anderson...I-...I regret to inform you that..."

Little fuzzy paws patted in and stopped next to Hank's feet, causing Connor's eyes to open.

"That...that...Sumo is...right here?"

Hank raised an eyebrow, "What the hell are you talking about Connor? Is something in you broken? What the fuck"

Connor lifted up his head, snow beginning to melt and drip down from his hair. He was still shivering, but along with that a clear liquid was also...dripping down from his nose?

The miserable expression on Connor's face pulled at Hank's heartstrings.

"...." Hank tsked, "Jesus Christ. Kid, get the fuck in here ok just sit down will ya?"

Hank grabbed Connor's shaking shoulder and led him over to the couch, forcing him to sit down.

Connor continued to stare at Hank with puppy-like eyes. Hank knelt down to be eye to eye with this stupid android that took over his life.

"Connor, son, you gotta tell me what's going on here. I'm not a mechanic you know."

"I am...I am not sure"

Hank sat back on his heels, impatient and admittedly a little worried, "What the fuck do you mean you're not sure? Run diagnostics!"

"I-" Connor shivered again, pressing his hand to the dripping substance from his nose. Were robots able to feel this...achey. He felt so fragile. "Dignostics are not running. I believe my core temperature has dropped too low"

"Jesus Christ Connor why do you have to do this shit to me" Hank stood up, muttering about how annoyed he was under his breath as he turned the dial for the thermostat up.

"If your temperature was so damn low why the fuck did you stay out in the snow for so long!" Hank gestured towards the window, stance wide and exaggerated.

Connor shook his head, eyes going back to Sumo, "I...thought that I had lost Sumo."

"What? He was home when I got here. I thought you just...I don't know- left to do weird Connor things"

Hank shook his head, there were more pressing things to care about right now. Connor was shivering and they still didn't know what was dripping from his nose. He left the room to get a blanket.

Connor felt his blue blood chilled in his systems. The temperature beginning to affect the flow of everything. His systems were slowing and unnecessary ones such as the phone function were beginning to shut down. Connor's began to scarily flicker into the back of his head as he determined which systems to keep on to preserve power.

To him it was normal, but it certainly wasn't to Hank. Hank dropped the blankets when he saw a shaking Conner with his eyes flickering.

"Holy shit"

He didn't hesitate to run over and tap his shoulder like he would when performing first aid on a human. "Connor? Woah there, you with me? Connor?"

He tapped his face, and Connor's blue eyes rolled back down and focused on Hank. But even after that he took a while to respond.

"Welcome back. What was that. Are you hurt?"

Connor stiffly, even more so than usual, shook his head. His neck joints stuttered and jumped at the movement. "No. I was simply preserving power."

He looked back up at the worried expression of Hank, "I'm sorry. I should have warned you."

"...is life always gonna be this fuckin stressful" he wrapped the comforters he had dropped before around Connor, then fell back to what he was doing before.

He kneeled in front of Connor. "You better now?" The shivers were a little slower.

Connor nodded.

"Great. So first off. What the fuck? Do you have any idea how worried I was Connor? You can't just fucking go missing for 3 hours and not answer my calls. I thought you had gone missing or worse!"

"I...I am sorry. I experienced some...odd distress when I had lost Sumo." Connor's shoulders seemed to pull in on himself.

Hank seemed to frown even more at that, subconsciously pressing a hand to Connor's cold cheek. It was always cold, but right now it felt like an ice cube. That wasn't normal.

"What kinda distress?"

"I am not sure. The stressful kind. I...found it difficult to be rational under such conditions" Connor had his head tilted in thought, eyes slowly blinking at the heavy feeling he had. He felt if he didn't focus he could suddenly shut down. He leaned back into the couch.

"What like...anxiety?"

Connor took a moment to ponder the definition of the word. Then answered with a tense, "yes"

"Well uh. You didn't lose Sumo. He was right here." He put a hand through his hair, "if you had answered my damn calls you would know that"

Connor looked down again, "...ever since becoming a deviant I have been troubled."

Hank looked attentive, but sat back and waited for Connor to continue.

Connor rang his hands together, "living without emotions and suddenly feeling them makes it difficult to make decisions and...understand them or myself."

Connor looked up at Hank, "I'm supposed to be one of the most advanced androids, but I'm not sure what's happening anymore" he shook his head, "when do I let my emotions decide for me? When should I let my processors logically decide for me?"

Hank's face contorted in a few ways. Connor diagnosed them as confusion, stress, understanding, and uncertainty. Even Hank didn't know what to do about Connor. Hank slowly stood up, groaning when his knees popped. He sat down next to Connor and slapped down a hand to his back.

"Yep. Like I said, emotions are shitty and so is being human."

Connor didn't answer, just watching Hank.

"Not even humans get their emotions all the time ok? Look at me, I'm a fucking mess. So don't sweat it alright? You'll get it in time, don't rush anything?"

"And the mistakes I make due to them? Like today?"

"Well" Hank's expression said all the answers he needed, like it was obvious, "answer your phone next time and you'll have a Hank to help you through em. You think humans make the right decisions ever?"

Connor laughed and nodded. Yeah that was something he understood.

"So Connor. How are you feeling right now?"

Connor pressed a hand to his face, feeling dragged down to the ground. He felt like he could fall apart at any moment. He wanted to shut down, or reset real quickly.

"I...believe that I feel...tired."

"Now this is something I get!" Hank stood up, "so lay the fuck down and rest, dipshit! And next time you don't answer your phone I'm gonna kick your ass, got it?"

Connor laughed again, laying down on the dusty couch, "alright Hank" well aside from tired and miserable, he had to admit that he did feel loved as well.

But...before he went into sleep mode. Connor placed to fingers to the substance underneath his nose, then brought it to his mouth.

"Oh- Connor are you fucking kidding me don't put that shit in your mouth! You're fucking disgusting!"

#Dbh #Detroit Become Human #whump #sick fic #Connor #Hank Anderson #fan fic

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enchantment1385 · 6 years

Text

OC Interview Meme

I was tagged by the gorgorgus @heraldofwho , the great @dickeybbqpit and the wonderful @dinah-myles Thank you, you darling people!

1. What is your name? I will answer to, Commander smexy, Captain awesome, “Oi!”, or begrudgingly Hero of Ferelden... I bet if i’d made Alistair king he’d have given me a better bloody name...

2. What is your real name? Jereth Amell... I have a middle name too... But the blight will take me before I tell you what it is.

3. Do you know why you were called that? Not a bloody clue.

4. Are you single or taken? I’m banging the divine. He says while doing finger guns.

5. Have any abilities or powers? You have HEARD of me, right? I killed a dragon! And not just any old dragon, a mind controlling, blight infested, BIG bastard! Makers shiny arse, I was sore after that fight... Sodding thing fell on me when I poked it with the sword!

6. Stop being a Mary Sue If that’s code for ‘awesome’, that’s just plain impossible I’m afraid.

7. What’s your eye colour? He goes cross eyed trying to look at his own eyes. Well, they were blue, but this many years after my genlock cocktail, they’re a bit grey... But I’m gonna fix that! ... I think...

8. How about your hair colour? Are you saying I’m going grey?! Cause... That’s just some dead stuff that didn’t wash out last time...

9. Have you any family members? Got mum and dad, but I haven’t seen them in years though. Bastard templars swooped me off to the circle when I was a kid, see? Oh! And apparently the bloke who became Kirkwall’s champion is my cousin! Ha! Small bloody world, huh? I bet the chanty are shitting their small clothes over 2 mages saving their ass--- Oohhh.... Jus .... Just scratch out that last bit...

10. Oh? What about pets? Unfortunately, we lost Barkspawn a few years back. Gotta say that was a bad day. We all ended up getting trashed at the keep and playing fetch while we cried. It was surprisingly soothing. Good news is I recently got, Gen. Blightballs! He’s a good boy.

11. That’s 🆒 I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like. Spiders, morrigan, the blight, morrigan, caves, morrigan, the cold, too much heat, The fucking deeproads, morrigan, making decisions, walking, hills, bastard trees that don’t do poetry, most Templars, spells backfiring, stepping in dog shit, annnnnd cauliflower. He takes a sip of drink. To be fair, morrigan ain’t all bad... She’s just a very special type of psycho.

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing? Uuuuuhhhhhhh.... He looks totally confused and scratches his chin. You know what they don’t tell you when you join the wardens, apart from EVERYTHING? No one ever mentions how becoming a warden will destroy life’s simple pleasures, like sleep for instance. I used to like a good kip, but now, not so bloody much. Imagine the most bloody weird cheese induced dream you’ve ever had and magnify that shit by infinity and you’re close to an average night. Food is still good, so I guess eating? And playing with Blightballs, of course.

13. Ever hurt anyone before? Can I count myself? Because if so, definitely. Regularly even.

14. Ever… killed anyone before? Oh, probably. I don’t really pay much too much attention in fights if I’m honest. I find if I don’t even know my own tactics, no enemy can find a weakness when they fight me either.

15. What kind of animal are you? A mabari! I’m strong, proud, cute, and I occasionally piss up against a wall.

16. Name your worst habits. Personally, I’d say none, Nate doesn’t like it when I name my belly button lint , especially at dinner, but he can be a real bloody killjoy at times.

17. Do you look up to anyone at all? Sten? I had to look up to him. He was a right big bugger. And Shale too.

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual? I like to bury my head in breasts... So straight, i guess... But if men had boobs, I could be swayed... possibly. *nods*

19. Do you go to school? They shoved me in the circle who... Tried to teach us some stuff?

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day? I got a kid...Apparently... Morrigan buggered off through a mirror. Sigh. Then all of a sudden in MY fault for going missing! I’m not missing! I know exactly where I am!

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls? Hero. Of. Ferelden, dude. What do you think? Of course, I haven’t let any of that go to my head... I was already handsome and charming.

22. What are you most 😨 of? Pfftt. Blight spiders? Ghost wizards? Ghost spider wizards of blight?

23. What do you usually wear? The same bloody thing I’ve been wearing for a decade now. So bored of mages armour. I suggested something a bit more fancy, but they others didn’t go for it. I guess I do love the shiny griffon though. I’ve named mine.

24. Do you 💛 someone? Yup.

25. When was the last time you wet yourself? What day is it today?

26. Well, it’s not over yet! Why do the good things in life never go on and on like this... *drags hands down his face.*

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class) I’m chaos class. Yeahhh. Take that. *folds arms and looks smug*

28. How many friends do you have? I dunno... I never counted them? Was... Was that required?

29. What are your thoughts on pie? Fuck - Yes. More pie! Pie for everyone! Hero of pie day!

30. Favourite drink? Whatever that stuff that Anders and Oghren cooked up a few years back. We called it - The kick in the tit. .... We were all still suffering the after images of the ‘mother’ and her many, MANY nipples. The name seemed fitting.

31. What’s your favourite place? In a tavern, with ann ale in hand, in front of a fire, with my head shoved between a pair of boobs.

32. Are you interested in someone? Huh? Sorry, I wasn’t listening. I was still back at the tavern...

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy? Huge and girthy of course! I’m a living legend.

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean? None. I jumped the out the window a few times in the tower to avoid the pissed off Templars who I’d spent a week winding up, so I’m done swimming in sodding lakes for one lifetime! And have you seen the ocean? Do you have ANY idea about what crazy shit live in there? Cause 10 years ago I’d have put money on the fact Big ass dragon didn’t live underground. But I’d have been wrong, and then I would have lost 20 silver to my fellow warden. ... What was the question, again?

35. What’s your type? When I was single? The ones who said yes.

36. Any fetishes? The thing with the pirate wench and Leliana was pretty much it. *happy sigh* It’s good to be me.

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive? I do whatever Leliana wants, because I’m scared I won’t wake up the next morning otherwise.

38. Camping or indoors? Indoors. When I’m done on this trip I’m burning every sodding tent I ever see. I am DONE sleeping on the floor.

39. Are you wanting the interview to end? Yes, I’ve eaten the free biscuits you gave me and I need a piss. Sorry - pee.

40. Now it’s over! Great... Which way to the latrine?

Tagging: @keeperscompanionsdai @dreadhobo @goldfishfiasco @sassylavellen @gugle1980 @fade-footprints @tessa1972 @john-cousland @ielmoe @inquisitorsmabari @long-liv-prairies

#jereth amell #hero of ferelden #first class dumbass #dragon age #dragon age origins #oc meme

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tomans-darlings-au · 6 years

Text

Smoke And Mirrors

[Jig Story Finally Written Out, Before Sig Returned To Their Family]

TW: Stalking, Abuse Mention, Gas-Lighting

Chapter 1

Sig slowly opened their blue eyes letting their eyes adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings, jolting up the confused Sig knocks Pip off the bed with quite the thud.

“Ow!”

Pip glared at his owner changing form into a cat and jumping back up on the bed.

“Pip? H-How did we get here? I don’t remember checking into a motel, last thing I remember….”

The cold travelers mind flashed back to being outside in a blizzard running again from their firey stalker, remembering a silhouette in the distance their mind snapped back as the doorknob of the room began moving.

In a flash both Sig and Pip were on the offensive ready to strike if it was Spike again, the door opened and within seconds ice shards were pointed at an unidentifiable face in the shadows.

“Whoa… So you’re awake. Good to see you’re okay.”

The voice said before flipping on the light switch and revealing himself. A young man with gray almost white hair and dark skin too dark to be Spike though lighter than Sig’s, he barely seemed threatened by Sig’s ice.

“Who are you? Where am I? Why did you bring me here?!”

Sig asked rapidly eyeing Pip who hissed at the stranger in protection of his owner.

“Whoa whoa easy i’m not a threat kid.”

Jack told them with his hands raised in a submission attempt to try and get Sig to lower their guard some and know he meant no harm.

“Yeah right nobodies nice for no reason? What do you want? Are you trying to steal Pip or use me for my powers?!”

Sig growled with icy breath fogging despite the warmth of the room, Jack gave a monotone expression in return giving a glance to the pet and back to the stranger threatening him.

“If I wanted your pet don’tcha think I woulda taken it while you were passed out?”

Jack responded in a deadpan voice giving his words sincerity, he watched as Sig eased some.

“And I don’t need your powers, I mean it’s cute the threatening icicles but I can do better.”

Sig looked with confusion before realizing the boy had trapped them silently with their feet frozen to the ground. The lost traveler was shocked eyes widening as they realized they were face to face with another special human besides Spike for the first time since they could remember. Not just any special human either someone with ice manipulation like themself, it was almost comforting.

“Pft don’t look so terrified i’m just kidding.”

With a single wave of his hand Jack cracked the ice he’d created letting Sig go free, still the traveler was in awe at meeting another person with powers. Still Sig had little time to bask in the moment as Spike flashed in their mind again reminding them not to get comfortable.

“Thank you for your help but I have to go.”

Sig said grabbing their sweaters and putting them on quickly trying to push past Jack.

“Whoa what’s the rush kid.”

The confused boy questioned grabbing their arm lightly to stop them, Sig’s reaction off immediate retraction and practically toppling over scrambling for the door startled both the room occupants.

“ ...Are you okay?”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!!”

Sig shouted angrily but they were clearly trembling, Jack backed away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. Look I found you outside collapsed in the snow, I didn’t want you to freeze out there. It’s a blizzard right now nobodies getting through, you could die if you wander out and get lost.”

Jack explained concerned.

“I’ll be fine I got goggles to see through the wind and snow.”

“Goggles aren’t gonna keep you from freezing to death!”

He argued again.

“I can’t freeze to death, I don’t feel cold anymore. I don’t feel weather effects anymore.”

Sig explained hands in their pockets.

“I’ve never heard of powers doing that to someone, I mean even I still feel the cold after long periods of exposure.”

“Not me I don’t feel much of anything anymore.”

Sig picked up Pip who morphed himself into a mink and scurried into his friend’s hood.

“Well… Thanks for the… Room I guess.”

“Wait! I… I have food. If you’re gonna be out there you should eat something at least.”

Sig raised a brow pulling their hood down again and looking Jack up and down with suspicion.

“Why are you so intent on keeping me here?”

“...Because you look like you need help.”

He responded sitting at the small table in the motels room, he took out a box with pre-packed food that included soup, Jack laid it out splitting the food for the both of them.

“Please eat something so you’ll at least have strength through the crazy storm.”

Sig eyed the food stomach growling at the sight and scent.

“Fine but then i’m leaving.”

Jack smiled some as he watched Sig sit down and slowly start to eat, he purposely didn’t eat himself to allow Sig to consume as much as they needed. There was a silence between them as Sig focused on devouring as much food as was possible for the time, never knew when your next meal would come in aimless travels.

“...Can I ask you some questions? You don’t have to answer them if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Sig stopped as they were feeding Pip pieces of bread, they looked down at the food and away from Jack’s eye contact.

“I guess but only three, after that I’m leaving.”

Jack nodded in agreement.

“What’s your name?”

Sig crossed their legs in their seat anxious at even the simplest question.

“Call me Sig.”

Jack raised a brow but didn’t push further despite his curiosity on Sig’s response.

“Okay Sig, how did you end up passed out outside in practically the middle of nowhere?”

“...Got lost and I guess I pushed myself further than I thought.”

Sig answered still avoiding eye contact, Jack narrowed his eyes leaning forward.

“...Okay I guess this is my last question.”

“Yeah.”

“Sig who are you running away from?”

Sig’s eyes widened immediately springing out of their seat.

“I-I’m not running away! I’m trying to find my real home, he’s the one who thinks i’m running away!!”

The icey traveler hissed pacing back and forth to calm down again.

“Easy Sig… Come sit down.”

“ I can’t I have to go this blizzard isn’t gonna stop him, if I don’t keep going he’s gonna find me again.”

“Who is he? Who’s chasing you Sig?”

Jack asked resting a hand on anxious Sig to try and calm them down.

“Spike… My ex partner.”

“An ex-boyfriend?”

“No… Maybe… I don’t know I didn’t want the whole boyfriend thing or whatever. He’s just all I ever knew and he said he loved me, I tried to do the relationship thing but I-”

Sig sighed sitting on the bed again slumping down.

“I just want to find my real home and he… He was so controlling. The more I questioned the more angry he got I couldn’t take it anymore so I left.”

They explained with a sigh.

“He came after me trying to convince me to come back when I wouldn’t… Well he said he’d drag me back no matter what. The burns are just kinda collateral.”

Sig finally explained venting to Jack, the boy sat beside them giving a comforting shoulder.

“I have to go if he sees me with someone else he’s gonna hurt them. I don’t want him to hurt someone like you, you’re the first nice person i’ve met in a long time.”

Jack felt his heart break he immediately embraced the other for much needed comfort, Sig stiff and shocked at first slowly returned the embrace. The two sat for a few minutes in silence with the whistling of the wind picking up outside, when they finally separated Jack gave a soft smile.

“Alright tell you what i’ll help you navigate through the blizzard at least to the next town over. I’m a delivery boy I’m used to hiking through bad weather.”

Sig frowned.

“But you’re not immune to the cold and what if Spike finds us, he’ll try and hurt you too.”

Jack shrugged.

“I’m not scared of some flaming douche I’ve handled my fair share of threats. Besides with a storm like this you could end up lost again, I promise I’ll keep us safe and if you want me to leave after that then i’ll leave.”

Sig looked into the boys equally icy eyes and his smirking, confident expression. They sighed and nodded, Pip popped out from Sig’s hood.

“Alright travel buddy.”

Jack had a shocked expression.

“...I-It talked, Sig your pet talked.”

Sig chuckled some nervously.

“Oh yeah uh there’s a long story about that but we should probably get going.”

Jack stunned just nodded despite his remaining confusion, no time for questioning now he and Sig packed what they needed and Jack checked out the motel both ice users on their way through the snow and winds.

Not long after the room was vacated another face burst through the motel doors, snow on his exposed arms quickly melting. The man approached the front desk woman who looked shaken from his sudden entrance, watching as the drenched man walked up to her she gulped.

“Can I help you sir?”

His piercing red eyes glared with a intimidating aura.

“Yes… I’m looking for someone.”

He fumbled through his pocket and took out a slip.

“Have you seen this person pass by here recently?”

An old photo of Sig was held out.

“I.. Think so? It looks like the person Jack brought to his room.”

Spikes glare became even more frightening.

“What room?”

“R-Room 1121.”

Spike rushed out kicking through the door finding an empty room yet to be cleaned, messy bed and all. All sorts of ideas ran through the hot-headed boys mind, his flames began to glow melting the bit of ice and cold left in the room.

“Excuse me this room is reserved for Moonlight Delivery Company workers only.”

A cleaning maid scolded, Spike turned around with a scowl.

“I’m looking for someone named Jack.”

The maid felt fear from the look on his face and tone of voice.

“Jack Frost check out ten minutes ago, he went to take a friend to the next town over.”

Spike gave a grin and thanked the maid leaving burning footprints behind, the maid scrambled to put out the fire.

“Are we going to destroy that Jack Frost kid?”

Spike’s pet snake asked with a hiss and chuckle.

“Yup, I’m gonna melt his frosty ass for touching Sig and then i’m gonna drag their ass home.”

#Sig #Sigmund F. Pearce #Sig's Universe #Sig's Escape #Spike #Jack Frost #My Jack Frost OC #Jig #TW: Abuse Mention #TW: Stalking #TW: Gaslighting #My Writing

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jess-the-vampire · 7 years

Text

Freaks Of The Underworld

The carriage pulled over to the side of the elementary school in a fit of fire, drawing the attention of all the little demon students who were walking home or being picked up by their own parents today. It was a sight to see, but then again what else does one expect of the Lucitor's carriage? They were the designated royals after all, this only felt fitting for their arrival. The carriage door opened and an oddly normal look man in fancy clothing stepped out, adjusting his crown and scoping the scene in front of him. Demon children were walking past him, some giving him dirty looks, but Dave didn't care as he was only here for his son, Thomas. It was his turn to pick him up from school today after all. Most princes and princess learned from private tutors rather then go to any public school but Tom insisted, and well, his parents couldn't deny his wishes of wanting to make friends. He was only 8 years old and he needed to meet his citizens someday. Dave was cautious of course, making sure he was under guard 24/7 and making himself full clear to the school's staff that if they hurt a hair on his head he'd publicly take care of them himself. But it was about a week in and so far Tom seemed fine, he didn't seem happy per say, but he seemed decent enough. But it was immediately apparent something was wrong today, and Dave noticed it quickly when he looked around to not find Tom anywhere. He always told Tom to wait for him, because Dave had a small fear of him being kidnapped or harmed when he wasn't in his sight and his absence here only grew that fear as the school emptied even more much to his worry.

He relaxed, maybe tom was slightly late today? And he'd run out immediately to head home. A few minutes passed, the parking lot emptied out, and yet no sign of his son. "Tom? Tom!!", He called out, but with no answer. Then he heard footsteps and turned around to face Tom's personal bodyguards, who were both out of breath and utterly terrified, and Dave wasn't sure if they were scared of him or whatever was the reason for Tom's absence. Either way, something was wrong and they were at fault. "Your Majesty!" , said one, "You're here! W-we....w-we're uh....". The king's brows furrowed and he was trying not to show himself dying inside, "Where's Thomas... he's not out here to be picked up like he normally is? You two were supposed to be watching him...". The two guards gulped, "Sir, we have no idea! We got separated from him and we haven't seen him since!! Honest!!". "THEN GO FIND HIM!!", Dave barked at them, and the nodded yes and ran off as fast as they could to continue searching around the school. After they left, the anger on the man's face left and his face turned into one of deep worry and concern. He was jumping to conclusions, Tom could be in the bathroom, or maybe he forgot something inside, but if something happened to Tom Dave knew he'd never forgive himself. he ordered the skeleton horse to wait outside and he made his way inside the school to look for his son. His first instinct was to ask the staff for assistance, and they had no choice but to help anyway if hey knew what was good for them. However he found the teachers there were no help, and even when he made them search the entire school from top to bottom they couldn't find a little demon with three eyes, pink hair, and lilac skin. Tom wasn't here, and Dave's heart dropped more and more as every room was confirmed to not contain the missing boy. Dave was about to go home and call for a search of the underworld, before he walked past Tom's normal classroom, or rather his homeroom. His teacher was still there, working on grading some new homework in, and Dave strolled in suspiciously. Tom described this room for the last few days and he knew it had to be the same one, the teacher looked up to the mewman in surprise and then anger, whether for strolling in or for him being mewman Dave didn't care. "Oh, your highness, still haven't found your son?", she asked, continuing to work on her grading. Dave crossed his arms, and paced around the room scanning it thoroughly himself as another teacher had claimed to check it earlier. "No, i haven't, but considering you're his teacher, I'd like to ask you some questions if you don't mind?" She narrowed all her eyes, and Dave held his hands out, " I'm not accusing you of anything m'am, but I do want to know how long my son has been gone in your care so i have better chances of finding him...". The teacher remained calm in his presence, "He left the classroom to go home, just like all the other students, that's the last time i saw him...". He raised an eyebrow and continued to scope around the room more closely. A Glimpse of something pink could be seen peeking out from under a beanbag and Dave walked over to it immediately much to the Teacher's distress , the king pulled it out to find a pink rabbit backpack, his son's backpack in fact. Dave stared at it a really long time, someone had been poorly trying to hide this thing, and it looked as if they were in a rush to hide it too. What happened next, wasn't pleasant. Mostly for the teacher, as Dave stalked forward to her, holding up the pink backpack with a dark expression on his face. She shook in her seat, Dave wasn't a demon but he sure could make himself scary when he wanted to be. "Look....it's.." "Where's my son...?" She panicked, closing her eyes and spilling out everything, "He's been missing since recess, he never came back but no one could find him anywhere...that's all i know i swear!!". Dave grumbled, but he didn't interrogate her any further, although his anger and worry was only rising. "My lord, we can't find Thomas anywh-", one of the demon guards entered the room and paused, shivering at the king's expression. Dave pointed towards Tom's homeroom teacher, "Stay here and keep an eye on her, i'll be right back, I want to go check the playground myself...". "Sir, the fence surrounding that and the rest of the back of the school is locked-" "And that means no one's checked it yet...", Dave grumbled," If Tom was there last, then i'm going to look for any signs of him, someone...most likely some kid....tried to hide his backpack in this classroom....probably to draw less attention to his absence...a kidnapper would never do that....they wouldn't need to because making the effort to sneak into this classroom to hide this is a waste of time...". The demon guard looked surprised, "W-what are you saying?" Dave walked past him and out the classroom door, glaring at him,"Just stay here, some kid did something to my son and i'm gonna find out what..". - Dave wandered into the back of the school building alone, the demon janitor bowing to him as he walked past and closed the gate door behind him. The playground was empty, but it was a big area anyway, there had to be something here if this is where Tom was seen last. Dave started with the playground, looking on the ground and examining all the play gear, trying to find any trace he could of Tom. "Tom?! Tom!?", He called out for what felt like the 50th time since he arrived, he'd been here for a few hours and his heart only dropped more and more each minute. He held the backpack close to him, he couldn't give up on Tom just yet, he'd search every inch of the underworld if he had to. His search of the playground was very thorough, even if any logical person would know full well his attempts at examining the dirt for his son wouldn't do much. Footprints, a sign of a tussle, anything he could use to track his son. But there was nothing, it was almost as if Tom wasn't here at all, that or there was just no evidence here to help him. The playground was empty, void of any hope, this was his last chance to find his son! Why did he follow some desperate idea he had instead of calling some real investigators in? If he wasn't here.... Dave suddenly dropped to his knees, what if he couldn't find Tom? What would he tell Wrathmeloir? He knew allowing Tom to attend public school was a bad idea, he should've put his foot down the moment Tom suggested it! Or boosted the number of private guards! Or supervised Tom himself! Or anything he could possible have done to make sure this never happened!! He felt tears start to well up, ones he knew he'd been hiding behind anger as soon as he realized Tom was gone. He felt like screaming, and he was about to, when someone seemed to have beaten him too it. The king noticed there was a glow behind him and turned around to see some fire dispensing from another back part of the building, specifically where the dumpster was. Dave stood up, and he didn't hesitate to run as fast as possible to the location of the fire, where he found an extremely melted dumpster bin with a small and dirty demon crying inside of it. Dave felt himself start to cry again, but this time with a smile growing on his face, it was Tom. He found his son, he wasn't kidnapped or dead or- he was right here this whole time! Dave never felt so happy his son's fire powers tied into his emotions, if it weren't for his anger issues.....he might have never found his son. Thank Judas he was ok, Tom was ok.. He was almost about to reach out to Tom let out another cry and it made him stop in his tracks. Tom looked awful, he smelled awful, he looked bruised and hurt and oh god what happened to him? "Tom...?" Tom sniffled and finally seemed to notice his father's presence, the little boy looked as if he'd been crying here for hours. Dave didn't approach him, Tom didn't look as if he wanted to be approached at the moment, but he stared at his father a long time and then proceeded to jump out of what was left of the dumpster into his fathers arms. "D-Dad....." Dave sat and held him for a short him, relieved to see him ok but also scared to know what led to this, he petted Tom's head. "Tom, It'll be ok......i'm here ok?", Tom sniffled and cried into his shirt, sinking his nails into him and never wanting to let go, Dave felt a mix of joy for finding his son and anger at whoever was responsible for this. But right now, all he wanted to do was get Tom home, clean him up, and help him feel better. He picked the little boy up, he was getting kinda heavy but right now that didn't matter, "C'mon Tom, we're gonna head home ok?" Tom nodded softly, shoving his face into his father's shoulder, Dave carefully placed the small pink backpack on his son and carried the small boy to the carriage, pulling out his compact phone to call the guards and let them know Tom was found and they could stop searching. Dave kept Tom close to him as the carriage made it's way back home, letting Tom cry into his shirt. He could ask him about what happened later. - Tom was given a bubble bath and a change of clothes before heading back into his bedroom where Dave sat, holding a bowl of ice cream for him. Tom's eyes lit up and he immediately jumped on his bed and grabbed the bowl to begin shoving the delicious substance in his mouth. Dave grinned and messed up his hair, "Feeling better?". Tom nodded and kept eating, he still seemed slightly dismal but at least he wasn't crying anymore, he finished his ice cream and placed the bowl next to him on the bed. He leaned into his father, and Dave wrapped an arm around him which Tom seemed fine with. They sat in silence for a bit, Dave didn't want to push his son about what happened today, despite how angry he was at whatever happened. "I'm glad you're feeling better, you look better...and at least your injuries were minor....", He looked at the small animal print band-aids Tom had on his legs and arms as Tom's legs hung off the bed and kicked around. "Mommy is glad to hear you're alright too, she was so worried about you when I told her about today's events...", Tom bit his lip, "I'm sorry I made you and mommy scared, I didn't mean to...". His dad instincts kicked in and he kissed Tom's head, "It's ok Tom, we're just glad you're safe....we're always worried about you.." Tom's smile fully dropped, along with his pointed ears, a guilty expression upon his face. "Dad?", Dave raised an eyebrow and looked at his son who was looking off into the distance. "Yes Tom?", Tom shifted his eyes towards the floor and he started awkwardly playing with his hands, "Do you and mommy think i'm a.....freak?". "Tom....did someone tell you that today?", He bit his lip in concern as his son nodded slowly. Dave's hand that wasn't holding Tom clutched the bed sheet in anger, he knew this talk might come someday, but this being the reason for today's actions only seemed to make him more and more upset. "Tom, goodness no, you're absolutely wonderful and we love you very much just how you are.". Tom kept fiddling with his shirt collar, "No one else seems to....everywhere I go I feel l-like everyone looks at me funny, or w-wants me to go away...". Dave sighed, he hated seeing Tom feel like the world was against him, "Thomas, remember when I took you to visit your grandparents...my parents? And they were very mean to both of us?". Tom nodded, "You told me it didn't matter what they think...cause they didn't matter". "Yeah, I did....well i didn't exactly say they didn't matter but....then again as far as i'm concerned they are no family of ours anyway.", Dave took a deep breath, "Tom, i want you to remember that now. There are going to be mean people like that out there, like your grandparents, and like whoever hurt you today....they're going to try and hurt us....make us hate ourselves....but don't listen to them. They'd be lucky to have you around and it's their loss if they chose not to see it...". Dave bit his lip, his shoulders sinking, "And none of this is your fault...if any...it's mine....first non demon king of the underworld, who produced the first half-demon heir to it's throne, if it wasn't for me marrying into the throne you wouldn't be so sad and i wouldn't have to be so angry doing my job...". "b-but then you wouldn't have mommy, or me!", Tom commented, forcing a smile out of his father. "Yeah, that would really suck, you two are the light of my life down here. Daddy gets bullied too, but i feel a bit better every day just having you two around...", Tom wrapped his arms around his father, pulling him in for a hug. Dave smirked before wrapping his arms around his son and then proceeding to tickle him, first surprising the demon and then causing him to laugh happily. Tom tried to fight back with his little claws but to no avail, the tickle monster had defeated him. Dave stopped messing with the little boy and Tom had a genuine smile upon his face, he smiled at his father, but then shifted his eyes off to the side. Dave resumed petting the little demon's head, "You don't have to talk about today if you don't want to..I won't make you...". Tom bit his lip, "Well...w-we went to recess today, and the kids were whispering stuff about me...calling me a freak, and that i'm no prince to t-them...", Tom looked almost as if he was about to cry again. "I tried to ignore them.....but then one of them pushed me onto the ground and I h-hurt my knee and t-then.....", Dave put his hand on his son's shoulder, "Tom....you don't h-". Tom shook his head, "They kicked me, a-and said more mean things a-about me a-and you guys and then I-I.....", he looked at his hands. "You blew up....didn't you?", Dave finished, and Tom nodded, holding his head in his hands. "T-They called me a freak and r-ran away...a-and....I-I hid myself in the trash.....cause that's where all the other garbage goes....", Dave muttered curses under his breath before forcing himself to remain calm, "Tom, you are not trash, far from it.......I'm so sorry tom." "The other kids tricked m-my guards into thinking i was still in the classroom s-so they couldn't save me....they blinded them with spitballs...", Tom said through tears, "I-I just....". Dave kept a comforting hand on him, having him let it all out. "You w-were right about school...I-I...", Tom sniffled, and his father held him close, "No no no, I was keeping you from any chance of making friends with other kids....and this meant a whole lot to you, I'm just sorry this happened to you...I...I should have done more...". Tom sniffled, "I don't want to go back....all the kids hate me....they think i'm a freak and.....i scared them all away...". Dave held him close again, "I won't make you go back, from now on you can have a private tutor here at the castle...ok?". Tom nodded. A few minutes passed,The prince's cries softened, and it seemed like Tom was tired as his eyelids drooped, ready for a nap. Dave picked his son up and properly tucked him in his small bed, handing him one of his favorite stuffed animals, he then took a seat on the bed himself. Tom smiled and sniffled, and Dave helped wipe his tears away from all of his eyes. "You know Tom, you have an advantage over me down here....at least you look like a demon, you can always blend in the crowd. Me? I'm just a weird mewman, I'll never be able to fit in down here no matter how hard I want to.....", he was smiled but Tom could sense his sadness, "Sometimes I wish i could be a demon, like you and your mother....things would be so much easier that way for all of us....". Tom grabbed his father's hand, "But I like you how you are!", he protested. Dave hugged his son once more, "I like how you are too, no matter what people say I think you're wonderful Tom, now it's time for all the little demons to go to bed.....". Tom snorted, "Daaaddd! it's not even dinner time yet!", Dave put him back into his bed and tucked him in. "I know, but right now you seem tired and you should get some rest....your daddy is gonna handle the school situation ok?" "Ok.." "I'll wake you up just before dinner, then we'll eat together, but for now just rest up..", Dave planted a kiss on Tom's forehead, "Us freaks got to take care of each other ok?". Tom laughed and made himself comfortable, yawning, "Night daddy....". "I'll see you soon Thomas....", Dave stood up, stretching himself out and started to make his way out of Tom's room when he heard Tom mutter something. "I love you dad...", Dave almost felt like crying, he almost didn't want to leave and he probably wouldn't have if he didn't have other things to attend to today. "I Love you too...". He made his way out quietly and carefully. - Dave hunched himself over his work, paperwork, his favorite, but he needed to get it done whether he wanted to or not. A demon server came in and brought him his tea and as he took it off the tray and took a sip, the server noticed his expression and carefully chose to talk to him,"I heard Prince Thomas was harmed today...are you alright sir?", the server carefully asked. Dave ran a hand through his hair, and the demon almost regretted choosing to talk to him before he replied to his question. "No, i'm not alright....", the king's grumpiness returned, "There's no way i can ever be "Alright" with my son being treated like that.....". He took another sip and the server helped fill up more of his cup, "But....", The king went on, "I don't want to scare him....or make his day any worse, I can put up with my anger for one day for his sake....". Granted, Dave was happy whenever a demon around here at least tried to show some kindness and concern towards him and Tom, even if he was skeptic they only did it because they were the ones in charge of them. He only wished kids would at least have tried for Tom's sake The server smiled,"Even if that means hiding your angering feelings? You must really love him then Sir...". Dave eyed towards a picture he kept on his desk whenever he was forced to sit here and do paperwork, one of Tom, as a baby. Before he had his horns and when he hands were even tinnier then they were already, sleeping quietly and nestled into a stuffed animal. The king smiled meekly to myself, "I'm always angry, believe me....and those kids, the guards, and that school are going to be punished if i have any say in it....but Tom doesn't need it. I never want him to feel like he's...wrong.....". Dave clutched the pen he was holding harder, "I'm....angry.....beyond belief....but I love Tom more then all the rage i have in the world combined....". The demon server smiled sweetly, "You're a good dad your majesty..". fanDave huffed, "Well, I don't know if i'm good.....but I am trying.....and he deserves to feel safe and comfortable around here, even if I may never do so myself..", he took another sip of tea then he put it down immediately and turned to the server as if he just realized who he was. "Wait a second, what are you still doing here? You got a dozen other staff to bring tea to, Back to work!".

#star vs the forces of evil #svstfoe #svtfoe #Dave lucitor #tom the demon #tom lucitor #King Lucitor #my art #fanfiction #fanfic

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cloverhighfivewritestoo · 6 years

Text

Feline Fine - male reader version

👉 Read it on Ao3

Pairing – Dean x Male!Reader (they’re a couple) Go [here] for female!reader (has some smut, but under a cut, so it’s optional, not part of the story per se).

Characters – Reader, Sam, Dean, other characters not in the series (villains, victims and such).

Summary – Dean has gone missing. While Sam and [Y/N] are trying to figure out what’s happened, a panther turns up on the bunker’s doorstep. Meanwhile, bodies are turning up a few towns over. There seems to be all sorts of various villains working together (or not?). What the hell is going on?

Warnings – Fluff only. (For those who read the Female!Reader, this ending is different – yet still sweet... of course) (I think I prefer this ending lol)

Language – Like adults. With normal potty-mouthiness, i.e., sometimes.

A/N –This reads like a full case.

Word count – 16,409 (that’s about 30 pages in Word)

Extra/Prompt – This fanfic is actually @waywardbaby and @imma-winchester-addict’s fault. Something about comparing Dean to a cat. See [this post] for where it started. But don’t hold your breath while reading the fic. It’s different.

1. Missing

[Y/N] woke up late in the morning to an empty bed. Dean had probably woken up early and had even made his side of the bed. “Awww,” [Y/N] thought to himself lovingly, “he’s so sweet.”

[Y/N] went through his morning routine, dressed up in jeans and a t-shirt, and headed to the kitchen.

“Hey Sam, already deep in research?”

Sam didn’t look up. “Yeah, I found a probable case a few towns over. I’m getting more info.”

“Cool. It’ll be fun to kill something. I’m bored.”

Sam darted a concerned gaze at [Y/N]. [Y/N] shrugged.

[Y/N] shuffled to the fridge, took out some stuff, shuffled to the toaster, waited for the toast, put some stuff on the toast, poured a cup of coffee, shuffled to the table, sat down like he weighted a ton and started chewing on his toast.

Sam had looked at him the whole time, his expression unreadable.

“What?” [Y/N] enquired.

“Dean’s still sleeping? It’s pretty late. Is he OK?”

“I dunno where Dean is. He was gone when I got up. You didn’t see him?”

“No…” Sam looked annoyed. “Let’s call him.” He took his phone out and dialed.

[Y/N] slurped his coffee. “Don’t you think it’s a bit overdramatic to call him, like, right now? I mean, it’s just 10 a.m., he’s probably gone on a food run or something.”

The phone rang and nobody picked up. It went to voicemail. Sam looked at [Y/N] and let out an annoyed sigh just before leaving a message. He hung up and looked at [Y/N]. “A food run? The fridge is full.”

“I said: Or something. Come on. The guy is a freaking menace to just about anything that’s out there. He can handle a run in town.” [Y/N] smirked at Sam’s very annoyed frown.

Sam went back to his computer, [Y/N] went back to his breakfast. They sat in silence between [Y/N]’s chewing and slurping sounds, and Sam’s typing on the laptop.

While [Y/N] was cleaning his dishes, he turned to Sam, “Hey, I’m gonna head to town as well, I need new boots. Do you need something?”

“I need Dean to come back so we can head out for this case here. I have all the info we need.”

[Y/N] rolled his eyes. “Alright. Well, I won’t be long anyway, so maybe Dean and I will be back at the same time or maybe I’ll even bump into him. I’m taking the motorcycle.”

“OK. I’ll go for a little jog then. Since I have time.”

“Be my guest.”

[Y/N] got out of the bunker on the bike, passed the Impala that was parked outside in front of the bunker’s door, and…

Wait. What?

The Impala is here, that means Dean is back!

Sam got out of the bunker in jogging attire. “Hey, you’re still here?”

[Y/N] gestured to the car. “The Impala’s here. You saw Dean inside?”

“No…”

[Y/N] drove by the hood, put his hand on to feel it. “The car is cold. It must have been here the whole time. And no other car is missing from the garage.”

Sam’s gears were running. “Something’s off.”

[Y/N] turned off the bike and took his helmet off. They looked around. No one. He got his hand on his gun and called out. “DEAN?!!” No answer. They looked around again. Listened. Nothing.

“Call him again.”

Sam reached for his phone, and, while looking down at it while dialing, something caught his eye on the ground. He reached down and picked up “The keys. They were…”

Sam and [Y/N] looked at each other, panic rising in their eyes.

The call went to voicemail.

“Shit.”

Back in the bunker, Sam was trying to piece together what they knew, pacing about the room. “OK, so, when’s the last time you saw him?”

“Damn. So… That means, the last time you saw him is…?”

“Last night, we were all here in the library, he went out to fetch something in the car, remember?”

“Yeah, just as we were calling it a night.”

“Exactly.”

“You didn’t worry when he didn’t come back?”

“Well our training in the afternoon was a bit challenging. So I pretty much passed out.”

“Yeah… Me too. Went out like a light.”

“I’m going to look for more clues outside.” [Y/N] headed out, followed by Sam, who tried Dean’s phone again – to voicemail.

The day would be busy and stressful. They’d found tracks outside that didn’t match any of the vehicles from the bunker nor the car from the pizza boy, but couldn’t deduct much from it, except the brand of tires and about 30 types of cars they could be on. They’d found footprints that didn’t match any of the footwear from the boys nor [Y/N], but all they could figure out was they were from 3 different people.

Sam had gone into town to ask around while [Y/N] waited at the bunker, checking whatnots on the laptop. Every call to Dean’s phone invariably went to voicemail. Nothing turned up in town, nothing turned up on the computer.

2. Finding

Early the following afternoon, Sam came in from driving around the countryside. He called from the top of the stairs. “[Y/N]? YOU HERE?”

[Y/N] called from the kitchen, “YEAH! HEEERE!”

Sam called again. “COME HERE YOU GOTTA SEE THIS!”

“IS IT DEAN?” [Y/N] called, as he ran to the stairs.

“No,” Sam said, somewhere between anxious and surprised, while he climbed the stairs, “um… just… come out with me.” He opened the door, [Y/N] behind him. “Just… be calm, be careful, no sudden moves.”

[Y/N] raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Sam made an impatient gesture. “Just… Just… Trust me on this.” He opened the door to the outside.

They stepped out and stood there, right by the door, transfixed.

A magnificent panther was lying lazily in front of the Impala. When it saw Sam and [Y/N] come out, it quickly sat up, curled its tail around itself and fixed its gaze upon them. It seemed it had stopped moving. It seemed it had stopped breathing.

[Y/N] spoke softly to Sam, as if he didn’t want the panther to hear. “Should we call the nature rangers or what’s their name…”

Sam spoke the same way, trying to conceal his words. “Panthers are not endemic to Kansas, [Y/N].”

“So…?”

“So it’s not a wild animal. It’s either from a zoo or it’s someone’s pet.” They looked at the big cat in silence, who looked back at them, going from Sam, to [Y/N], and Sam. Sam added, “I don’t know… Look at it. It seems to be here for a reason… if that doesn’t sound too… weird.”

Again, some mutual staring.

[Y/N] whispered, “Did you notice the panther looking at me when I talk and then looking at you when you talk?”

“Yes…”

“It just did it again.”

“Yes…”

The panther took a deep breath, let it out, looked up, blinked, and fixed Sam and [Y/N] again.

“Did it… sigh at us?” Sam remarked.

The panther got up, paced in a circle, head low, throwing glances sideways at Sam and [Y/N], then resumed its sitting position. It let out another sigh.

“It can sigh all it wants, I don’t know what to do with a panther. Maybe we should call a veterinarian,” [Y/N] suggested, “they’ll know what to do.”

The panther growled.

Sam and [Y/N] took a step back, but bumped into the wall behind them.

The panther got up, walked deliberately, slowly towards Sam and [Y/N], its gaze going from one to the other. Stuck between surprise, curiosity and sheer panic, Sam and [Y/N] couldn’t move.

About halfway, the panther stopped dead in its tracks, eyes wide. Sam and [Y/N] didn’t move. The panther closed its eyes, shook its head. Sam and [Y/N] looked at each other sideways, and, seeing they both had no clue what was going on, quickly turned their attention back to the panther.

It was scratching the ground. It turned this way and that and seemed to have a purpose to its scratching. It took a minute or two.

It then looked at Sam and [Y/N], looked to the ground, stepped back a bit, did it again, and retreated a few meters away. It layed down and looked back and forth between the scratchings and Sam and [Y/N].

Sam was the first to catch on. “Um, I think we should go look at the scratches.”

“What?”

“Come on.”

“What??” But [Y/N] followed.

I’m Dean, dumbasses.

Sam’s first reaction was surprise, but one look at the panther and he made an annoyed frown and a sigh in no specific direction. He then looked at [Y/N].

[Y/N], on the other hand, had his mouth open in disbelief. He turned to the panther. “You… what??”

The panther looked at him and blinked. And it… purred? He turned to Sam. “Did you hear it purr?” He turned to the panther. “Are you purring?”

Sam looked at the panther. “So you’re Dean.” The panther nodded.

“OH FUCK IT NODDED.” [Y/N] screamed.

Sam jumped. He took [Y/N] by the shoulders. “Calm down! It’s DEAN.”

“But it nodded! The panther nodded!”

“Yes, because it’s Dean.”

“How can you be sure it’s Dean? Anybody could write ‘I’m Dean’. We just have to believe the cat?”

Sam couldn’t believe he just heard someone say ‘We just have to believe the cat’.

[Y/N] pressed on, talking too fast. “Well, a cat who knows how to write, sure, it’s weird, but we’re used to weird, so ok, I can get that, but then, the next logical thing – if we want to bother with logic – is we have to believe everything just because we accept that the cat maybe has a human inside?”

The panther growled. Sam shot a look at it and came back to [Y/N]. “Do you think anyone but Dean could call us dumbasses while trying to get us to help him?”

[Y/N] froze, thinking about what Sam said. He looked at the panther, who was lying down and looking calmly yet intensely at him. Then, suddenly, [Y/N] relaxed. Sam let go of his shoulders. The panther got up and walked towards him. He waited quietly. The panther sat right in front of him and looked up.

“Dean… is it really you…”

The cat made a soft nod, blinked, and purred. [Y/N] couldn’t help but run his hand in his fur on his head. He was so soft… Dean closed his eyes and pushed against [Y/N]’s hand so he’d continue, but he stopped. “Good lord. What happened?” Dean shook his head. He let out a sigh, looking in the distance. His face became angry and he growled at the horizon.

[Y/N] looked at him. The panther – Dean – was huge. Sitting straight, his head came almost chest high with [Y/N]. His fur was black, his eyes green, surprisingly close to the green of his own eyes. He licked his nose and his mouth, revealing impressive fangs. He cocked his head and waited. [Y/N] noticed the fur was matted on his neck. He approached a hand to check, but Dean, as a reflex, moved just out of reach. “You’re hurt…” Dean kept out of reach, looking at him sideways, flattening his ears. “Come on, let me look.” He slowly got closer. He bent down a little and, very gently, touched the fur where it was matted. “OK, it doesn’t look so bad. Come inside, we’ll take care of it.”

While [Y/N] was cleaning Dean’s wound, Sam was thinking out loud. “Of course, you can’t talk, but we really need to know what’s going on, cause… well, look at you.” Dean let out a huff. “Communicating with you is going to be a challenge.” Dean let out another huff.

“Alright, all clean.” [Y/N] announced, putting the wet cloth away. “I can’t do more than that. It’s not like I can put a band-aid on it or anything. So it’ll have to heal on its own. It’s not that bad, really.” Dean closed his eyes and rubbed his head against [Y/N], purring.

[Y/N] got up and went to the fridge. “I don’t know about you, Sam, but I need a drink.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Dean bounced his way to [Y/N], and leaned his weight against her. “Oh dear, you must be hungry.” Dean licked his mouth and looked up. “Alright, what do you want?” Dean cut in front of [Y/N] and stretched his panther body up on its hind legs. He surveyed the fridge and grabbed a few things – all meat. “Duh, of course,” [Y/N] said, laughing. He grabbed a beer.

3. Talking

Sam tried to find a way to communicate with Dean. It was frustrating for both of them. Sam tried to come up with yes/no questions, but invariably diverged with more complex ones. Meanwhile, [Y/N] thought it was a bit funny, what with Dean having sat his panther self on a chair – like a cat would – opposite Sam at the table. Sam was actually having a conversation with a cat, or trying to, at least. Dean did the best he could to be as expressive as possible, but still, they weren’t words.

“OK, we’ll go through the creatures. Yes or no.”

Blink.

“Was it a wendigo?”

Stare.

“Come on, we’ll be thorough, so we’ll know for sure.”

Stare.

“Dean… Wendigo?”

Eyes to the skies, shake of the head. No.

“Werewolf?”

Stare. Intense.

“Dean.”

He opened his eyes wide, made a point of looking at himself, and looked back at Sam with the same wide eyes, shaking his head once. No. Idiot. I’m a fucking cat.

“OK, I’ll go with the probably more obvious.”

Eyeroll. Repositioning. Straight, solid, ready.

“Witch?”

Teeth bared – which was more frightening than what Dean thought was a smile. A vigorous nod. Yes!

Watching them, [Y/N] remembered the potion the boys had told him about when they were on a case where the only witness was a dog, allowing Dean to understand the dog. It seemed strange Sam didn’t think of it. Probably the stress. He asked Sam where their father’s journal was and went off.

“So you escaped!”

Nod. Yes.

“They didn’t actually let you go.”

Shake. No.

“Where had they taken you?”

Nod. Yes.

“Yes???”

Eyes half closed, shoulders slumped. Idiot.

“Oh. Yeah. Um.”

Head turned to the side, sideways look. Yeah? And what now?

Sam got up. “Lemme get a map.”

[Y/N] came back to the table with 2 glasses filled halfway with a brownish red unappetizing liquid. He snipped some fur from Dean, who perked up. Dean smiled as he put fur in both glasses and stirred – he remembered the foul taste of the potion.

Sam came back with the map. He saw the glasses. “What’s this?”

“Remember when Dean had to mind-meld with a dog for a case?” [Y/N] smiled a big, proud smile.

Sam’s shoulders dropped. He made the most flat expression [Y/N] had ever seen. “I cannot believe I forgot that.”

[Y/N] raised his glass. “Cheers!” They drank and said the incantation.

Dean loved watching them wince and blergh at the taste. Pussies. He had just downed it like a man.

Dean purred, growled and looked bored until Sam and [Y/N] heard, “Sam likes to wax his legs. Sam has lady shampoo. Sam doesn’t watch porn cause he doesn’t understand the plot. Sam –“ “HEY!” Sam was not amused. [Y/N] was laughing. Dean brightened. “Oh, so the potion is working! Good.”

“So do tell us, Dean,” said [Y/N].

He didn’t know what the witches’ plan was, but, while the ritual was being prepared, he had heard a name: Brandon Hatley.

Sam drummed his fingers on the table. Everyone was deep in thought. Dean licked his paw.

[Y/N] looked at Dean, slightly surprised. “Um, I know you’re basically a cat, but… you feel the need to lick yourself?”

Dean’s eyes widened and he stopped his move, with his tongue still out, halfway through a lick. He looked up at [Y/N], put his paw down, licked his nose and let out a low huff. He looked up at [Y/N]. “You don’t? Cause when I did the mind-meld with the dog, I was acting a lot like a dog.”

Sam remembered. “It’s true. And yet… I don’t feel any feline urge.” “Me neither,” said [Y/N]. They turned to Dean. “Hey, don’t look at me, I don’t know.”

Sam suggested, “Maybe because his mind is not a cat’s mind… maybe because there’s the two of us on the same spell, so it kind of dilutes it… maybe…”

“Maybe we’re just not as receptive as Dean was,” said [Y/N]. He added, “Sam, do you feel like a beer? Pizza? Porn?”

Sam was confused. “No. What? No…. What?”

“Me neither,” [Y/N] said, “so that means we’re not mind-melding with Dean either.”

Sam let out a sigh. “Thanks for that.”

4. Researching

Sam got up, got the laptop and came back. “OK, Brandon Hatley…”

While he was typing, [Y/N] pulled the map to his side of the table. “Hey, Sam, where was the case you found yesterday morning?”

Sam crooked his neck and pointed to a town. [Y/N] and Dean looked down. “Uhn, it’s as far as where Dean was taken, but… right on the other side of us. Hmm… That’s weird.”

Dean interjected. “What? What are you saying? What case?”

[Y/N] just continued. “I don’t know… Seems too much of a coincidence, a case to work on in exactly the opposite direction, and about the same distance, the day Dean was taken. It’s too… clean. Too symmetrical.”

“Huh, weird indeed,” said Sam. “As for the info I gathered, the deaths were sudden. There were no previous open cases in the area or deaths that fit the pattern.”

Dean asked again. “What case?”

[Y/N] looked at him. “Yeah, he didn’t tell me either. Things kind of happened fast.”

Sam didn’t look up from the computer. “Something that looked like vampires. Sloppy ones. Or sloppy, just the one. We had yet to find out. OK. So now,

Hatley –”

Without any warning, Dean jumped off the table and walked towards the staircase. [Y/N] and Sam gave a start. “Dean!” cried Sam, “What are you doing?”

Dean stopped, turned around. “To go get the vampire! Come on!”

[Y/N] objected. “Dean! We have to work your case. We’re not going off on a vampire hunt right now!”

But Sam knew how Dean felt, from years of saving people. “No, [Y/N], he’s right. And if it’s a lone vampire, it’s a milk run. We’ll be in and out in a flash.”

“Plus,” Dean said, “since I’m stuck in this cat for a while, I wanna try it out. It’s really strong. I hear really good. And I can see in the dark!” He sat and smiled.

“Babe,” said [Y/N], “when you smile like that, you’re rather terrifying.”

“Oh, come on!”

“And,” he added, a slight panic in his voice, “what do you mean, ‘stuck in a cat for a while’? No, no, no! How can you talk about milk runs? We have to switch Dean back! What if he’s stuck in there forever?” He was really panicking now.

Sam and Dean looked at each other blankly. Dean got up and walked over to [Y/N], rubbing his head against his tummy. “Hey, sweetie, we’ll figure it out.” He looked up at him. “But we gotta save people, you know? I swear, it’s going to be real quick.”

“But… the Hatley dude… we have a lead…”

“Alright, alright,” said Sam. “Here, let me tell you what I’ve got on Hatley.” [Y/N] and Dean came back to the table.

“Hatley. Interesting. The man is the owner of about half the town where the vampire case is. He owns a lot of property and he is the chair of the local industry.”

“So… he’s killing off competition?” asked [Y/N].

“And you call that interesting,” said Dean, flatly.

“Well, not the fact that nothing stands out –”

“Except the deaths. Those stand out.”

Dean shook his head. “With us, it’s always related.”

“Yeah.”

[Y/N] was thinking out loud. “OK. It’s all related… 30 years, uhn?”

“Yeah.”

“So the man is, at bare minimum, 50.”

“He’s 62.”

“Hmm… What could a 62-year-old man with fortune and power in a quiet town want with witches? And,” he said, looking at the panther, “with Dean? And how does the vampire fit in?”

Dean offered, “Maybe he pissed off the witches and they sent the vampire to piss him off.”

Sam sat back in his chair. “Witches don’t do that. They’d curse him or something.”

“Then I have no idea where the vampire comes in,” said [Y/N].

“Me neither.”

They looked at Dean. He shook his head – he had no idea either.

Sam spoke up. “Well, at least we can take the opportunity to talk to Hatley while in town, so there’s that.”

They all agreed.

[Y/N] got in the bedroom, followed by a nonchalant Dean. [Y/N] sat on the bed, took his boots off. Dean hopped on the bed.

“What are you… You’re not thinking of sleeping on the bed.”

Dean cocked his head, looked around at the bed, then back at [Y/N].

“Come on, you’re too big. And you’re going to get cat hair all over the sheets. You know how you hate that.”

Dean squinted, and flopped down on the bed, his back to [Y/N]. He was taking up quite a bit of space indeed – and clearly made a point of taking up all the space he could.

[Y/N] shook his head, got under the sheets fully dressed, tried to get comfortable.

“Deaaaan… you’re really too big.”

He heard jerky huffs. “Are you… laughing?”

Dean lifted his head “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that…” He laughed again.

“Idiot. Come on, scoot…”

“Hey, don’t tell me you don’t want a piece of this fine feline ass…” He winked. “You know this tongue is rough, I could – “

“Oh my god, Dean! No!” He slapped him – which couldn’t hurt him. “Scoot, idiot!” He pushed him – not that it made him move at all.

Dean laughed and he obliged. [Y/N] tossed and turned a bit and, as soon as he quieted down, noticed the soft breathing from the panther next to him. He scooted over and put an arm around him, burrying his face in his fur. He fell asleep to the rhythm of Dean’s feline body taking the air in and out.

5. Hunting

As the sun was setting, they took off in the Impala.

[Y/N] was driving. “I can’t believe I’m driving.”

“Haha! Enjoy! I can’t believe I’m in the back seat,” Sam said, not without sarcasm.

“Ah, that’s what you get for being a giant,” said Dean.

Sam shook his head, amused. “I can’t believe Dean managed to call shotgun.”

“What, you’re surprised?” [Y/N] said, laughing, while Dean bared his fangs – again, in an attempt to smile. He was lounging comfortably, taking almost all the space left on the front seat.

“What do you mean, and so on? How many deaths were there?” asked [Y/N].

“Yesterday morning, there was 2. Now, there’s 4. Again, a pattern. So, tonight, we should be able to stop murders 5 and 6, hopefully.”

“It’s really a milk run,” [Y/N] reflected.

“From the reports, it seems like a vampire attack, but we’ll have to break into the morgue first to check and make sure.”

“Yippee.”

When they got to their destination, they headed for the morgue. Dean agreed to stay in the car while Sam and [Y/N] went it to check on the corpses. They came back out 10 minutes later with answers. Yes, it was a vampire, and just the one. The teeth marks were all identical.

They headed to the next address on Sam’s list of Hatley-owned apartment buildings. [Y/N] first passed by slowly. Everything was quiet. He turned and parked the car. The three of them surveyed the place.

“Which apartment is it?” [Y/N] asked.

“If it follows the pattern, it’s #5.”

He counted, pointing right to left and going up, “…#1, #2, #3, #4… #5 should be 3rd floor left, then.”

“Right.”

Three pairs of eyes fixed the dark patio door.

“Yeah… Maybe we should go inside and wait for the vamp?”

Sam grabbed the door handle. “Yep.”

“Wait… What about Dean?”

Dean put a paw on his door handle. “Oh, I’m coming.”

Sam frowned. “I’m not sure if you should come, Dean.”

“What?” said Dean. “You know I am stronger than you, I hear and see better than you. And…” Dean put a paw up and slowly revealed his claws. [Y/N]’s eyes widened. “Oh shit. Wow. That’s one hell of a good argument, too.”

“Alright.” [Y/N] got out and Sam let Dean out.

Once they were in front of apartment #5, Sam put his ear to the door.

[Y/N] whispered, “What are you listening for?”

“If I can hear snoring or something.”

“And?”

Sam held his breath. After a moment, he let it out. “Nothing.”

[Y/N] turned to Dean. “And?”

Dean’s head snapped around and his ears perked up.

Sam and [Y/N] looked around, but there was nothing to see – or hear. They looked at Dean enquiringly. Dean turned and got on the next stair landing in two bounds. [Y/N] let out a “Oh, shhhhhiii-” and both him and Sam followed.

The next minute they heard the front door open and footsteps coming up.

Dean had positioned himself in front of Sam and [Y/N]. Crouching on the floor, shoulder blades standing out, the tip of his tail wagging, he was observing below between the stairs.

The vampire was as much a predator as Dean. The surprise of being attacked by a panther didn’t phase it. It clawed, hit and bit Dean, trying to pin him down to finish him. Dean struck it with a swift blow with his claws out, ripping the vampire’s flesh on its chest. He clawed at its chest and face a few more times until it was gushing blood from every wound, then pinned it down and bent to rip its neck to finish it. [Y/N] screamed as he and Sam ran down : “NO! DON’T BITE!!”

Dean turned to them, squinting, ears flipped back. “What?” The vampire was too damaged to have the strength to push Dean off. It was bleeding out. It still hit him feebly.

[Y/N] said, as Sam got his machete ready, “Don’t bite him. He’s bit you and if you drink his blood, you’ll – “

Dean’s eyes widened. He looked at the vampire and took a step back.

Sam asked Dean, “Is it too damaged to talk?” Dean shook his head. “Yeah… I think I tore into it a little too much. Sorry.” Sam sighed. And he cut its head.

Behind a door, they heard a loud and panicked “OH MY GOD”. All three snapped their heads up, looked at each other and in the direction of either door.

Sam nodded at [Y/N] and Dean. “I got this.” And, a bit louder, “It’s fine. We’re FBI. We were tracking the killer responsible for the murders of the last 2 days.” He gestured at [Y/N]. They took their badges out, showed them towards one door, then the other.

“Is that a panther?” came from apartment #5.

“Holy fuck! You cut that guy’s head off!!”, came from apartment #6. All three sighed.

“Look, stay inside your apartments, we’re cleaning up and leaving. You’re safe now.”

Two weak “OK” came from behind both doors.

Back in the car, they regrouped.

[Y/N] started. “OK, so we have taken care of the vamp.”

“Yup,” said Dean, “and it was awesome!”

“And now we have to clean you, Dean,” he said, turning to him. He had his tongue half out, his paw stopped in mid-air. He darted a look at [Y/N]. “Dean, don’t lick that! The vampire blood!”

“Fuck!” He put his paw down.

“Look, [Y/N], I think it takes live blood. Dried-up blood won’t turn him.”

[Y/N] turned to face Sam, his eyes merely slits. “You want to take the chance?”

“Um, no.”

He turned to Dean. “You?”

Dean was looking down at his paws, turning them to inspect them better. “No, of course not.”

[Y/N] declared, “Alright. Off to the motel.”

6. Longing

The night, in fact, was still young – especially since they’d had a nap earlier. It was only 11:30. Sam had taken out his tablet while [Y/N] was in the bathroom with Dean.

Dean was in sitting the bathtub and [Y/N], kneeling on the floor, was using the shower head to drench his paws. They were both silent and calm, looking at the streaks of blood going to the drain.

“Gimme your paw”, he said softly. He took it in his hand and sprayed water between his toes. He turned the paw, sprayed thoroughly every furry nook.

“Get your claws out.” He was talking softly, like he was telling him what he’s going to do next. He cleaned his claws.

“The other paw.” And they repeated the gestures.

“Now, your face. Chin up.” Dean closed his eyes. Water running down his face, his neck. [Y/N] stroke Dean’s fur to make sure it got cleaned. Dean flinched. “Oh, the vampire bite. I’ll clean that too,” said [Y/N]. He gently ran some water on it.

“What about your belly?”

“I think it’s alright.” Dean sat up on his hind legs, balancing with a paw on the side of the tub. They both looked at his underside. [Y/N] ran his fingers through the fur. “No, you’re good. Let’s get you dried up then.”

Dean stepped out of the bathtub and [Y/N] dried his paws with a towel. He then dried his head, his neck. With the towel still around Dean’s shoulders, he stopped and looked in his eyes. “I know you’ve been a panther only a little over 2 days, and I know I can talk to you, but I miss you. Having half of you is… it’s weird. It’s worse than when we’re apart a few days. It’s like you’re here with me, but I can’t be with you. It’s you, but it’s not.” He looked at Dean’s body. “It’s you inside, I know, but it feels… off. Like you’re far away. I miss you, the whole you. I miss your touch.” He sighed, looking at the ground. “I miss you, Dean.”

Dean put his head in the crook of [Y/N]’s neck and gave little rubs, finally resting his head heavily, eyes closed. “I’m here, sweetie pie. But I know. I miss you too.”

[Y/N] put his arms around Dean and laid his cheek on his head. “Damn you’re soft, though.”

Dean made little huffs. He was laughing. Sadness tainted [Y/N]’s faint smile.

7. Enquiring

[Y/N] and Dean stepped out of the bathroom. Sam looked up. “Hey, I found more info on Hatley.”

“Oh? Interesting info… this time?” [Y/N] looked at Dean and giggled. Dean made laughy huffs and headed to the bed, on which he lied down like a sphinx. [Y/N] sat on the corner of the bed, rested a hand on a paw. Dean gave a tiny lick.

Sam sighed. “Very funny.” He raised his eyebrows. “It turns out, Hatley has a wife.”

“Ohhh! What a turn of events!” More giggles and huffs.

Sam sat back. “Really?”

“Sorry,” said [Y/N]. “Go on. Mrs Hatley.”

“That doesn’t make sense. It’s in his name.”

“She’s listed as co-owner on quite a few properties.”

“Oh. Right. So… Are you saying she’s got more money than him? Is the plant worth more than his real estate share?”

“Yes.”

“OK. So we have Hatley. He is the less fortunate of the two. Murders have been perpetrated on his property. Were they his buildings only, or shared ownership ones?”

“Um…” Sam looked something up. “Ah! He is the sole owner. Hmm…”

“Maybe she’s got something to do with this.”

“But what? She’s richer than him.”

“Power?”

“What power? She owns the workforce and part of the town. I’d say she’s powerful already.”

[Y/N] looked aimlessly at various spots on the carpet, lost in thought. Sam read up on his tablet.

“Then there’s only one thing left,” [Y/N] said. Dean and Sam looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “He cheated on her.”

“Hm, could be.”

“If it’s not money, if it’s not power, it’s sex. Or love. Either he cheated on her, or he wants a divorce or something. Either way, she’s unhappy with him and wants revenge.”

“Could be,” Sam said as he turned his tablet off. “Alright. That gives us some direction for tomorrow. Now I guess we should question them both. Which one first?”

[Y/N] folded his arms. “You know what? I think we do them at the same time, so they don’t know we’re also talking to the other when we see them. You do her, I do him. Maybe you could charm her into giving you info. Who knows?”

Sam got up. “That’s a bit twisted.”

“Thank you.”

8. Investigating

After a relatively good night’s sleep – [Y/N] cuddled against Dean, who was sleeping on top of the covers – Sam went to get some breakfast. He came back with a bit more than usual.

“That’s a big bag,” [Y/N] commented. Dean perked up. He hopped down and got closer. “What you got?”

“Probably not,” Dean said, “but I’ll take it.” He licked his nose.

The food was distributed and eaten in silence – in Dean’s case, wolfed down pretty fast.

FBI suits were donned, and they left a “Don’t disturb” on the door. Nobody wants to deal with a maid walking in on a panther.

Sam was driving. He pulled in the police station’s parking lot.

“And why are we here?”, [Y/N] asked.

“Cause we always hit the cops first…” Sam said, like it was standard procedure.

“Plus, they might tell us where to find Mr. and Mrs Hatley if they’re not at the plant. I figure she wouldn’t be, since she doesn’t sit on the committee, so I wonder where we’d find her.”

“I don’t know… home?”

“And if she’s not?”

“What, the police doesn’t keep tabs on every civilian.”

“Alright, then. Let’s do that.”

In the station, they were directed to a certain Wilson. After pleasantries and showing badges, Sam took the floor.

“So, you’re the one working on the multiple murders case.”

“Yes. I’m surprised the FBI got here that fast.”

“Oh, we didn’t only get here, we got the murderer.”

“What, you caught him?”

“Right as he was about to strike again. So you can add that to your file and tell your people.”

“I’m… wow. Seriously?”

[Y/N] interjected. “Sir, are you questioning the FBI’s efficiency?”

“No! No, no, no… It’s just… It’s like you came in and saved the day. The FBI never does that. Well, they didn’t last time.”

Sam and [Y/N] frowned, and Sam went, “Last time?”

“Yes. We had 3 murders on our hands within the same week, one in town and 2 on the outskirts. Never got solved. Never got any help either. Super weird case.”

“When was that?”

“Um, about 10 years ago?”

Sam and [Y/N] glanced at each other in surprise.

Sam turned to Wilson. “Do you have the reports?”

“Yes, I’ll get them for you.”

Wilson left the room. Sam and [Y/N] turned to each other.

[Y/N] whispered, “Oh my god, 10 years? A demon? What the hell?”

“That could be a completely different thing, though.”

[Y/N] looked at Sam with raised eyebrows, arms open in disbelief.

“No,” Sam said, “of course not. Those things always end up related.” Sam sighed. [Y/N] sighed.

“Plus, how come you didn’t find this case? I thought you could find everything and hack in any records.”

“But did I check. There was nothing.”

Wilson came back with a slim file. “I made you a copy. We didn’t have much, so here you are.”

Sam took the file, gave it to [Y/N], who started reading while Sam continued. “Thanks a lot. Could you tell me, why wasn’t this case in the system?”

Sam cut him. “Hey, it’s alright, we have a physical file, we have something we can work with, it’s OK.”

Wilson couldn’t believe what he just heard. “What, the FBI… will let this slide?”

[Y/N] took this one. “No, sir, the FBI will not let this… slide, as you say. You will get the file re-entered in the system. We will need it to be there when we fill the form to close the case.” Sam darted a look at [Y/N].

Wilson seemed to fall back in familiar territory. “Oh, right. Yes, right on it, sir.”

While [Y/N] leafed through the file, Sam got to what they had come in for.

“Before we leave, we have to ask you if you know where we could find Mr. and Mrs Hatley.”

“From Hatley Corp.?”

“Yes.”

Wilson was visibly taken aback by this request. “Um, Mr. Hatley is usually at the plant. He’s the boss there.”

“We know that.”

“No, it’s fine. And where would that charity event take place?”

“The Community Center. We had it built for events like this, ceremonies and various activities. It’s pretty big.”

“Thanks, Wilson,” Sam said, extending his hand, “we’ll be on ou-”

[Y/N] cut Sam. “Wait. Wilson, why do you say this case was weird? And why do you say they’re murders? All I see here are animal attacks. Even the photos are quite clear.” Sam leaned over to see while Wilson answered. The pictures showed bodies with clear lacerations, so many the victim quickly bled to death from the wounds. There were also bite marks on the necks. Sam and [Y/N] looked at each other, recognizing the type of wounds. But they wanted to hear it from Wilson.

[Y/N] cut in. “Maybe it wasn’t the same – “

But Wilson waved a finger. “No, no. They’re all from the same animal. All the marks were measured and they matched.”

[Y/N] flipped a few pages. “Ah, found it. ‘…indicate a single adult black jaguar.’” His eyes went up to Wilson. “Black jaguar?”

“Yeah, or, a panther.”

Back in the car, Sam took his tablet out.

“Whatcha looking up?”

“Black jaguar distribution. I’m pretty sure they’re not endemic to Kansas.”

“But you knew that when you saw Dean. You told me.”

“Yeah and I do confirm. They’re not.”

Sam turned his tablet off and set it down on the seat. Both Sam and [Y/N] had their eyes fixed on nothing in particular on the dash. Sam blinked. “So that means…”

“Yeah. That means it’s really Dean. Well, not Dean, but the same cat.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Sam took a deep breath. He started the car. “Did they find any big cat owner? Does the file say?”

“It specifies they didn’t find any. They checked.”

“Let’s go and ask the Hatleys if they like cats, then.”

Sam had dropped [Y/N] at the plant before heading to the Hatley’s domicile.

Mrs Hatley looked at him a moment, brows furrowed. “Your name again?”

“Agent Ridgeley.” Sam suddenly remembered, he should be a bit charming, because, like [Y/N] said, who knows? So he relaxed his composure and made a warm smile, looking Mrs Hatley in the eyes.

Mrs Hatley made a little smile. She gestured to him. “Do come in, agent Ridgeley.”

“Would you like some coffee, agent?”

“Yes, thank you. Very kind of you.”

“Just a splash, please. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Here.” She handed him his cup and sat down. “So, what is it you need to ask me?”

Sam flipped his notepad open. “We noticed that the, um, events took place in buildings owned by your husband.”

“’Us’? Aren’t those buildings your husband’s?”

“Oh, sorry. Force of habit. My husband owns a number of buildings, but there are quite a few we co-own. I manage all the buildings.”

“But you own the plant.”

“Yes, but he manages it. See, we’ve learned early on each of us had specific strengths. So we invest our money and let the best of us bring the endeavour to fruition.”

Sam raised an eyebrow in approval and looked around, nodding. “It seems you’ve found the right formula and your endeavours are, indeed, fruitful.”

“Why thank you.”

“I suppose Mr. Hatley spends a lot of time outside the home, though.”

“So, any children?”

Her smile faded, but she didn’t seem to mind the question. “No, unfortunately.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think –“

“Oh, it’s alright.”

“So… who is going to inherit everything?” And Sam realized how gloomy this was, so he added, “You know, a long time from now, in the future?” He attempted a smile.

She laughed. “Of course. Well, it’s all going back to the community.”

“How so?”

“The apartment buildings will all become co-ops – managed by the tenants – and the plant will be given to the employees through shares.”

“There must be someone who’s not happy with this.”

“Sure, like always. But it’s what we have planned. It’s all on paper already, all the legal aspects have been addressed. So whatever happens, it’s all locked anyway.”

“I mean, what I’m looking for, here, is someone who could be your enemy, or want to do you harm. You or your… endeavours.”

“Oh!! Good question.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “To be honest, I can’t see who. I’m very sorry.”

“Someone on the plant’s committee maybe?”

“No… Shares will be divided to keep the company running as is. Everyone will keep their current jobs.”

Sam wrote a few things down. Mrs Hatley looked at her watch and gasped. “My! Agent Ridgeley, I’m so sorry, but I really must go.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. Of course.”

Mrs Hatley and Sam got up. She led him along the hallway.

Once at the front door, Sam remembered the cat thing. “Just before we leave, I have one last question.”

“Yes, but please do make it quick.”

“Between you and Mr. Hatley, you must know a lot of people.”

“Oh, almost everyone in town!”

“Do you know of anyone who is fond of, or would own a big wild cat? Or has owned one in the past?”

Mrs Hatley looked like her brain had stopped working. “A …what?”

“Big wild cat. A black jaguar, to be exact.”

She stared at Sam a moment. “A black jaguar.”

“Yes, a panther, if you will. A big one, too.”

“But… aren’t those things dangerous?”

“Very.”

“Was it a panther that killed all those poor people?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss the details of the case, I’m sorry. But the murders have been stopped. We found the guilty party and proceeded. So, do you –“

Mrs Hatley blinked rapidly. “You caught them?”

“Yes. There is nothing to fear, now. All is back to normal.”

“Probably. Someone owning such a cat would probably be proud of it.”

“I suppose. And no, I don’t know anyone who has or had a panther.”

Sam wrote something down and put his notepad back in his pocket. “Thank you, Mrs Hatley. Sorry for the inconvenience. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.”

“Here’s my card if something comes up. Anything.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

Sam gave a nod and a smile, and left.

Sam picked up [Y/N] at the plant.

“So, how was it?”

“For one thing, he’s in love with his wife, so the whole cheating slash jealousy slash revenge thing is out the window.”

“Yeah, I got that feeling too. And for the panther, I got nothing.”

“Me neither. The very question seemed to scare him.”

“Mrs Hatley was quite shaken too. She thought the panther had killed her tenants.”

“…’her tenants’? Aren’t the buildings his?”

Sam explained the couple’s arrangements and their plans for their legacy. “What did you talk about?”

“Oh, plant and business stuff. He talks like everyone is happy. It’s eerie.”

“Maybe they are.”

[Y/N] turned to Sam and said flatly, “We have 3 murders 10 years ago and 4 this week. Woop-tee-doo, I’m dancing with joy.”

Sam pursed his lips. “I know.”

Sam and [Y/N] stopped to get some lunch and make a detour by the grocery store to get Dean a big piece of actual raw meat.

“You know, I’m used to Dean and his burgers,” Sam said, looking at the beef roast [Y/N] had in his hands, “but this is something else. It’s weird to think it’s Dean who is going to eat this.”

“Probably in one sitting, too.” He weighed the package in his hands. “Which is impressive.”

“I think we’ll have to look up a bit more on black jaguars to see what he needs. We can’t feed him a roast that big every meal.”

[Y/N] felt like he needed to protect Dean. “You should know, cats are obligate carnivores.”

Sam just sighed. “Yeah, I know that. But it’s a lot of food, even for a big cat.”

[Y/N] pouted. “But he’s going to be so happy.” He lifted the roast to accentuate his statement.

Sam shook his head.

Back at the motel, Dean was indeed happy about the meat. He chewed on it his eyes half-closed, licking his mouth and nose between each bite. Once he seemed more disposed to listening to Sam and [Y/N], they brought him up to speed on their investigations.

They gathered to throw ideas around.

A vampire was never a loner, but it was decided they wouldn’t go after its nest. Too time consuming, and the probability of the remaining vampires cooperating too low.

Sam turned his tablet on, trying to see if he could find something about a missing black jaguar or panther in the classifieds or anywhere, really.

9. Knowing

Sam was still looking up classifieds on his tablet. [Y/N]’s phone rang, he put it on speaker. “Agent Michael speaking.”

“Um, hi. This is Mr. Hatley from this morning.” He seemed stressed.

Sam and [Y/N] exchanged glances. [Y/N]’s tone was relaxed. “Yes, Mr. Hatley. Do you have something new for me?”

“Yes. I think we need to talk. Where can I meet you?”

[Y/N] gave him the address of the motel.

There was a faint knock at the door. Dean hid in the bathroom, sitting by the door, able to see and hear but not be seen, while [Y/N] opened. “Mr. Hatley, please come in.”

Hatley thanked him and walked in. As [Y/N] closed the door behind him, Mr. Hatley froze in place, looking at Sam.

Sam frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Hatley blinked and looked to the ground. He looked back at [Y/N]. “I didn’t know you had… You’re…”

[Y/N] tried to fill in. “He’s my partner, yes.”

Hatley turned to Sam. “Agent…?”

“Ridgeley.”

Hatley seemed surprised.

“I know, it’s not a common name.” He glared subtly at [Y/N], who had a smirk on his face. “Please, sir, have a seat. Coffee?”

Hatley sat. “Um, no, thanks.”

[Y/N] sat by Sam, facing Hatley. Hatley’s leg was restless. His shoulders gave little jolts. He fumbled with his tie.

[Y/N] tried to make him comfortable. “It’s alright, you can talk to us.”

Sam added, “Even if you think it might be a bit… strange.”

Hatley turned to Sam, suddenly still and calm. He looked Sam in the eye. “I know.”

Sam and [Y/N] looked at each other, than Sam slowly turned to Hatley. “What do you mean, you know?”

Hatley flattened his tie, sat up, a resigned look in his eye. “Look. I came here to see if I could trick agent Michael here in telling me more about what he knows on the case and tell him the panther is in fact mine, so when he’d find it he’d tell me so I could collect it.”

Sam and [Y/N] sat back, eyes wide. [Y/N] spoke up. “Wait. The panther is yours?”

“Kind of. Yes. I mean… No, it’s not. It’s complicated.”

Sam’s brows were furrowed. He squinted. “But you said, ‘I know.’ You know… who the black jaguar belongs to? I’m lost here.”

Hatley sighed loudly. “No. Yes, but it’s not that. I know you’re not agent Ridgeley. You’re Sam Winchester.”

Sam and [Y/N] almost fell off their chairs. They echoed, “What?”

“We know who you are, Mr. Winchester. We’ve been informed. We’ve seen a picture of you and your brother. We don’t know who he is,” he pointed his chin at [Y/N], “but we know who you are and what you do. So yeah, I know I can tell you about strange stuff. I came to try to get the panther back. Which, by the way, we have no idea how you know about, because, as we all know, the murders in my blocks were carried out by a vampire. Which you took out. That almost went according to plan, but we’re missing a panther, so it’s a damn mess now. So fuck it. I really hope you can help us.”

Sam and [Y/N] stared at Hatley, mouths opened. Sam was the first to shake the surprise off. “Who informed you of who we are? What do you mean, we can help you?”

[Y/N] added, “Yeah, and about the panther, too. Is it yours or is it not?” He instinctively looked towards the bathroom. Dean had opened the door a little and was watching through the crack. You could only see one eye, and it was fixing intensely the back of Hatley’s head.

Hatley took a deep breath, looked at Sam. “The demon told us about you guys. That’s who.”

Sam leaned over the table, resting on his arms. “The demon?”

“Though you gotta admit, Dean is worth a lot for demons,” [Y/N] said, “so I guess they still try.”

Sam looked at [Y/N]. “Ah, the tattoo.” [Y/N] nodded.

“What?” Hatley was the one confused now.

Sam and [Y/N] undid a few buttons of their shirts and pulled at their collars. Sam explained. “It’s a warding against demon possession.”

Hatley was impressed. “I should have gotten something like that.”

“Well it depends,” Sam explained, “if you think you need to be guarded against demon possession. Do you?”

“No, actually, no.” Hatley lowered his head. “It’s hellhounds I’m worried about.”

[Y/N] raised his eyebrows. “Ahhh… So that’s where you think we could help you.”

“Hopefully.”

“Boy, hellhounds… That’s a hard one. When are you due?”

“Tonight, midnight.”

[Y/N] looked at Sam. “That should explain the other murders. 10 years… the cat…”

Hatley just looked at [Y/N] under his eyebrows.

Sam crossed his arms. “Better start from the top, then. We’ll need to know everything.”

“Let me guess,” [Y/N] said, “it’s been doing really great, but your luck ran out exactly 10 years later.”

“Yes. The way he worded his advice, he’d gotten us to sell him our souls. We just didn’t believe it until we heard the hellhounds coming.”

“And how did you get out of that one? Nobody ever gets out of that. No civilian, at least.”

“I killed it.”

Sam and [Y/N] gasped. Sam spoke. “What? How?”

“Wow.”

[Y/N] nodded. “Voilà! We got our 3 murders solved.”

“Yeah. How d’you know about that? We had the data erased from the system.”

“Shit.”

Sam smiled and nodded.

[Y/N] perked up. “But wait. The hunters were killed by the panther, weren’t they? The very same panther you’re looking for.”

“Oh, so that’s where you learned about the panther.”

Sam made a half-smile and returned to his neutral expression just as fast.

Hatley thought about it. “Yes, it’s the same panther. At least, I think.”

[Y/N] pressed on. “Don’t just think. Talk.”

Hatley took a deep breath. “Well, as it turns out, we have witches in town…”

[Y/N] said, under his breath, “It’s a fucking freak show, this place.” Sam glared at her, but talked to Hatley. “Sorry. Carry on.”

“Yeah, I agree with him. We didn’t know about the witches, but they’d picked up on the demon and hellhound activity, and when they realized we were still alive, they showed up on our doorstep. Now, we had witches in our house asking us how we’d gotten out of the demon deal – we quickly learned that it was very valuable information – and meanwhile we had the hunter-killing problem. We had 3 days to carry out the murders. The least I could say was, we were quite overwhelmed. My wife tried to find ways to not kill the hunters, just fake it. The witches explained we couldn’t do that.”

“And the panther in all this?” [Y/N]’s patience was running out.

[Y/N] was thinking out loud. “They must have done more than just unleash the panther. Hunters are usually good enough to get out of a panther attack. I mean, we fight vampires, werewolves, wendigos…”

Hatley’s eyes were wide. “Werewolves? And… what is a wendigo?” He looked at [Y/N], then Sam, who opened his mouth to answer, but Hatley cut him. “No. I shouldn’t be surprised. And… Wendigos, I don’t want to know.”

Sam sat back. “Oh you really don’t.”

“I can’t wait to see how you got out of that one,” [Y/N] muttered.

“With a lot of money,” Hatley said, flatly.

“Like witches can’t get a lot of money by themselves,” [Y/N] said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well not a lot of legal money all at once,” Hatley answered, on the same tone.

Both Sam and [Y/N] went “Oh.”

“So that was 10 years ago,” [Y/N] said, “and your problem got solved. For another 10 years. Which brings us to today. Well… this week.”

“Indeed,” Hatley said with a sigh, “but this time, the demon showed up without his hellhound. He’s the one who came to us with an offer.”

“Let me guess,” Sam said, “he wanted Dean.”

“Yes. In exchange for another 10 years.”

[Y/N] looked at Sam. He frowned, and turned to Hatley. “Only Dean? They usually want both Sam and Dean.”

“Well they know you boys,” Hatley said, looking at Sam. “They know if we get one, the other will go looking for him. All we needed to do was to get you where we wanted.”

“But we didn’t go to where Dean was taken.”

“Because that’s not where the witches wanted you. They said they’d rather deal with you separately, cause if you were in the same room, they’d probably all end up dead.”

[Y/N] smiled proudly and looked at Sam. “It’s fair.”

“So they put a spell on a vampire to do our bidding, and we arranged for some murders to catch your attention.”

[Y/N]’s smile quickly turned into an air of disgust. “You say that so matter-of-factly I’m going to be sick.”

“Wow, we’re lucky this organization is sloppy,” said [Y/N].

Sam added, “And it’s interesting how they can locate a demon and a hellhound, but not a panther.”

“They’d hidden it magically from you guys. And their spell backfired on them, they couldn’t locate it.”

[Y/N]’s expression brightened. He looked at Sam. “Now, that’s hilarious.”

But just as fast, he got serious and squinted at Hatley. “Now, all I see is that you want us to get you out of your demon deal and avoid going to hell. But you can’t give us Dean.”

“I can tell you where his body is and introduce you to the witches, maybe you can work something out.”

“Do give the address.” he did and [Y/N] wrote it down. “But you seriously don’t think this is enough. We need Dean, not just his body.”

Hatley started fidgeting. “You really can’t help me? Maybe you could talk to the demon?”

“And say what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re the pros, aren’t you? Maybe you can get us out of this.”

Sam sighed. Of course, he wasn’t about to let a human be dragged to hell, whatever he may have done. Even murder. Even premeditated, cold-blooded murder. Humans were humans.

“Look. We’ll help you,” he said.

“Oh thanks! Thank you thank you thank you! …how?”

“We’ll trap and kill the demon.”

“You can do that?”

“Yes. And then, we’ll work from there to sort out the rest.”

“I have one last question,” [Y/N] said, “What about your wife? Is she going to cooperate?”

“Oh because you do?”

“Someone has to carry the guilt.”

Sam got up. “Alright. You’re supposed to deliver Dean to the demon tonight, right?”

“Right.”

“I suppose, at the address where his body is – and where his soul, trapped in the black jaguar, was supposed to be.”

“Right.”

“OK. We leave right now. Call Mrs Hatley, we’re picking her up.”

“What?”

“You’re coming with us.”

“Why?”

“Cause we need to protect you. We can’t do that if you’re here.”

“But isn’t it more dangerous to get us close to the demon?”

[Y/N] winked. “Don’t worry. We’re the pros.”

Sam started gathering their belongings. [Y/N] turned and nodded at Dean to come out. He opened the door with his paw and gracefully trotted into the room.

Hatley gave a start. “AH! You have the panther?!”

Dean sat in front of Hatley, who tried to back up in his chair. Sam and [Y/N] looked at the scene, amused. “Why didn’t you say you had the panther?”

“Oh,” [Y/N] added, “and it’s not ‘the panther’. It’s Dean.” Dean slowly blinked at Hatley. Hatley nodded.

10. Preparing

They picked up Mrs Hatley and headed to the bunker, the Hatleys in the backseat with Sam. Mr. Hatley brought his wife up to speed on everything the best he could. After the initial shock of seeing Sam and [Y/N] had the panther – um, Dean – she was mostly relieved and grateful for the help getting rid of the demon problem. She assured Sam and [Y/N] that they never wanted to sell their souls in the first place and she’d been doing every good deed she could think of all those years in the hopes it would erase the deal and get her a place in heaven instead.

“Unfortunately, that’s not how it works,” Sam explained, “a deal is a deal. And one with a demon is, to our knowledge, pretty much unbreakable. Unless you kill the demon.”

“And you know how to do that,” Mrs Hatley enquired.

[Y/N] looked at her in the rearview mirror. “Yes, we do. It’s the plan.”

“I guess there’s a reason the demon wanted you.”

“Oh you bet there is. A lot of reasons.”

Back at the bunker, they ate, and Sam checked something on the computer. “Ha. It was hard to pinpoint, but I see why the demon wanted the hunters dead.”

“Don’t they all do? Want hunters dead? As a general rule?” Mr. Hatley asked.

“Except you and your brother.”

“There are not that many rich people in town. What do you mean?”

“My, that’s… grim.”

“My guess is those hunters knew how to get rid of demons. Because there is virtually nothing that fits the pattern for a very long time before the hunters died.”

[Y/N] cleaned up after everyone was done eating. “So, those witches. Do tell. Cause we’re about to head out and meet up with them.”

There wasn’t much to tell, to Sam and [Y/N]’s disappointment. Three women in their thirties. Or so they said. The Hatleys didn’t know if they’d be any helpful, because they seemed happy to help getting the demon’s deed done. That’s what got them rich and what would get them richer this time again. And if they lost the deal with the Hatleys, they just might turn around and cut a deal with the demon instead.

“That’s why we’re killing the demon,” [Y/N] said.

[Y/N] laid out a plan. “OK. So we go to the address you gave me. Then… um… We stall until the demon gets there. We kill the demon. Then, the Hatleys offer a load of money to the witches so they put Dean back in his body. How’s that?”

“I’m not sure,” said Sam. “They’re already paying them to carry out the demon’s demands. It will make the witches very nervous to see us try and kill the demon.”

“OK,” [Y/N] continued, “Then the Hatleys give them the money upfront for their word they’re not going to hurt Dean, then the same amount after Dean is safe and sound.”

“HEY!” Mr. Hatley protested.

[Y/N] raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry? You’d rather rot in hell? Cause, you should know, you’re just postponing the inevitable with your deals.”

“No, you’re right.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Sam was pensive. “Yeah, that might work.”

Mrs Hatley was visibly nervous. “You’re really taking us with you to the witches’ place?”

Sam took his phone out. “No. The bunker is more secure, so you’ll stay here. I’ll record your offer to the witches to show them.”

11. Saving

The trio was back on the road in the Impala, with, again, Sam in the back and Dean by [Y/N] in the front.

[Y/N] glanced at Dean. “How are you doing? Sorry for all the human conversations, but we needed to get to the bottom of this.” “It’s fine,” Dean said, “I had time to… lick myself.” Sam and [Y/N] made a disgusted sound. Dean laughed.

The place they were sent to was, of course, a house along a dirt road outside of a town. It was quite hidden in the forest, but it was in good shape. It was already dark and the porch light shone dimly down on the stairs. “Why do we always get to the places in the middle of nowhere?” [Y/N] reflected, as he parked the car beside an old Toyota. Sam craned his neck to take it all in. “The upside is if we have to fight, we won’t have to deal with neighbours or the police”, adding, “especially since we have a black jaguar with us.” Dean made a “what-he-said” head nod towards Sam. [Y/N] turned to look at Sam. “If we have to fight? IF?” Dean made a “what-he-said” head nod towards him.

They got some things from the trunk and headed to the door. As [Y/N] and Sam were wondering whether they should knock, ring or just barge in, Dean’s ears perked up and he suddenly looked around, moving his ears to catch some sound. [Y/N] whispered, “I didn’t hear anything.” Sam just looked at him, shrugging. They all looked around.

Without any warning sign, Dean took off. He was in the forest in an instant – you wouldn’t have heard him run, but only remembered the sound of the leaves after he’d passed, your brain mesmerized by the sheer force it took the massive cat to reach such speed so quickly and smoothly. Sam and [Y/N] didn’t really have time to realize what had happened when they heard some rustling of leaves, a muffled human sound, a branch snap, then nothing. Sam and [Y/N] tried to see in the dark in the general direction Dean had gone. “Dean!” Sam called in a loud whisper. “Dean!”

“HEY! Get back here!” [Y/N] called.

“I’m not that stupid, dear, so no!” the voice answered from farther.

Sam jumped in. “But we have an offer from the Hatleys! We came to talk!”

The rustling stopped. The voice came from right in front of them, a few paces from the stairs. “Sam, you have a machete. And you, whoever you are, you have a gun, probably loaded with something you invented that could hurt us. And you got more things hidden in your pockets.” They could see her in the shadow. She was fairly tall, of strong build, wearing normal jeans and a red hoodie. She had long blonde hair. [Y/N] had raised his gun, aiming at her, but the witch merely took the information in and turned back to Sam. “So, no, Sam. I’m not stupid. Congrats on trying to save the Hatleys, but this thing has to go down. And, need I remind you, we already have a deal with them.” [Y/N] aimed at the witch’s leg and shot. The sound of the gunshot resonated in the forest as the figure in front of them vanished in a wisp of smoke. “Damn astral projections.” [Y/N] was furious he’d lost a bullet for that.

Sam and [Y/N] strained their ears to try to hear something, anything. But the forest had fallen silent again. Sam took his lockpicking kit out of his pocket. The best solution: barge in, but silently.

[Y/N] protested, in a barely audible whisper. “What’s the point? She went into the forest! And Dean told us he had escaped from a kind of shack, not a proper house.”

Sam was firm. “But this is the address the demon is going to come to. We can set traps for the demon. He’ll come after us anyway.”

“Are you nuts? He’ll come after us after he’s done with Dean!”

They were about to give up on finding clues in the house when they heard a kind of breathing in a corner. Whipping their flashlights around, they only saw a big, low wooden casket. They looked at each other and listened again. Yes. Breathing, coming from inside the casket. Sam got by the lid, unlatched the lock, ready to open, [Y/N] in position to shoot should anything jump out. Sam lifted the lid.

[Y/N] covered his mouth as he screamed. “DEAN!”

Sam just as soon put a hand in front of him to stop him from running towards the casket. “It’s not Dean! It’s not Dean! It’s his body.”

[Y/N]’s eyes went from Dean’s body to Sam and back again. He let his hand down as he spoke. “I know… my god… we have his body… That means it’s the panther inside. Is he tied up in some way?”

Sam looked. “Yes. His hands are tied. His feet too.”

They both looked at Dean’s sleeping body in silence, taking in the damages. Most of the exposed skin was either bruised or scratched. There was a fair amount of caked blood yet some wounds seemed fresh. [Y/N] couldn’t help but step closer. “My god, his hands…”

Sam was more used to urgency than [Y/N]. “Look, he’s sound asleep. This is probably the best way still to contain him,” he said, as he closed and latched the lid, as [Y/N] looked at him in confused horror. “If we put him in the car, he’ll trash about, break the windows, and hurt himself more.”

“We can tie him down with the seatbelts.”

Sam seemed to think it was a good idea but decided against it. “We need demon traps and salt the windows. We need to protect the body from the demon coming in and taking him.”

[Y/N] looked at Sam blankly. “The witches can come in and take him elsewhere.”

“Well at least we won’t have to deal with the demon and the witches at the same time.” Sam took his paint spray can out. “Come on. While he’s still sleeping.”

He took his spray can out slowly, thinking. “But why don’t we draw a trap on the pavement and park the car in it with the body in it?”

Sam took a deep, impatient breath. “Because it would be too obvious. If we keep the body here and demon-proof the house, it gives us an advantage.”

[Y/N] looked up at Sam, a sad look in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I have not hunted for long, I’m not used to the fine details of…” He gestured vaguely.

Sam softened. “It’s alright. It was a good idea, but we need stealth. Come on.”

After they’d done the demon-proofing, they checked on Dean’s body again. [Y/N] had taken some decorative cushions from the couch upstairs and fitted them around him, hoping the panther won’t hurt Dean’s body too much if it wakes up.

“Oh, I see you’ve found the body.” Sam and [Y/N] whipped their head around at the voice, their flashlights on the witch. “No need for that.” She flicked the switch and the lights came on. It was the same witch as outside earlier. “Nice salting of the windows by the way. I suppose there are demon traps all over the place. Thanks for the vandalism. I’ll send you the cleaning bill.”

Sam was confused. “This is… your house?”

“Yes. Why? Had you known, you wouldn’t have spray-painted my hardwood floors?”

Sam was still confused. “What? No… I mean…”

“That’s what I thought.” She gestured to them. “Step aside.”

“No, wait,” Sam said, “I told you we can do this differently. Let me explain.”

The witch looked at the sheathed machete. “Yes, of course.” She raised an eyebrow. “I said, step aside.”

Sam put a hand up. “Please, please, hear us out.”

Neither Sam nor [Y/N] moved.

“Look, from the bulge in your coat pockets, I know you have brought something to protect yourselves against magic. But I am not above physical violence.” She took out a gun. She saw [Y/N] raise his. “Ah, yes. So you do have bullets that can hurt me. So it’s true.”

“Yes, it’s true. Witch-killing bullets.”

Sam showed the witch the video from the Hatleys.

“Not good enough,” she said, as Sam was putting his phone back in his pocket.

“What?” said Sam, in surprise.

“What you fail to see,” [Y/N] interjected, “is that after the demon has delivered Dean and Sam to hell, he’ll have no use for the Hatleys. He’ll collect their souls next time their number comes up. So this deal here? It’s double what you would have should you carry out the initial plan.”

Sam and [Y/N] knew their time was up. Sam put his hands in the air and [Y/N] put his gun back in his belt and did the same. Sam broke the silence. “Hi… um… We were just talking.”

The blonde witch turned to her twin sisters. “They have witch-killing bullets. I agreed to listen.” She turned to Sam and [Y/N]. “You wait here. We’ll be back. And don’t try to escape. We took care of the exits.” She went upstairs and out with her sisters.

The witches came back after a while. The blonde talked. “OK, Sam Winchester. As much as I hate to see you boys live, we’ve decided the new deal is better.”

Sam and [Y/N] let out a relieved sigh.

“But,” she continued, “you get to deal with the demon first. And alone. We’re not getting our hands dirty. If you survive the demon, fine. Otherwise, we go back to the original plan.”

Sam let out an annoyed sigh. “You’re not going to help? At all?”

The three sisters shook their heads. The blonde one added, “The demon will be here shortly. He will be coming to the shack in the back, where we keep the actual Dean.”

[Y/N] asked, a tone of sadness in his voice, “Does he wake up often like this?”

***

The witch gestured to her sisters. “Come on, let’s bring the body to the shack.” She turned to Sam and [Y/N]. “You, follow us. We’ll leave you with Dean and his body, and the demon. We’ll wait in the house.”

[Y/N] protested, “What, you’ll leave all of Dean within the demon’s reach? What kind of deal is this?”

“And here I thought you were good hunters. Well, good luck. Come on, now.”

***

“No need, Dean. I know you’re awake,” said a male voice. Dean managed to stay still. The voice said, “Doesn’t matter. Let me introduce myself. My name is Brentley, demon, and I’m here to collect you.” Dean opened an eye and saw the demon looking around. “Where is your body? I need both parts. You know,” and he looked at Dean, “to ensure you don’t come back this time.” Dean stayed lying down, trying to look pitiful in the cage. “I know I’m a little early – I said I’d be here at midnight – but seriously, where is the rest? Your body, the witches, the Hatleys…” Anthony put his hands in his pockets, turned to Dean. “Ah, doesn’t matter! Tonight, I get souls. If it’s not yours, it’ll be the Hatleys’. Today’s a good day for business.” He took one hand out and patted the air beside him. Dean heard a low growl. His eyes widened and he backed up in a flash, cowering against the cage. Oh, fuck.

Brentley pointed at [Y/N]. “He’s a Winchester?”

The blonde witch answered, “Don’t know, don’t care.”

“Me neither, quite frankly,” Brentley said, as he gestured circles in the air. “Tie them up!”

In the commotion of handling [Y/N] to tie him up – he was not giving in – Dean caught Sam’s eye. He warned him, “there’s a hellhound by the demon’s side.” But Sam looked confused. Dean repeated. Sam looked a bit panicked. Shit, the spell had worn off. Dean changed tactics. He made a head nod in the witches’ direction, trying to ask Sam if the deal with the Hatleys had gone down. Sam nodded and tapped his phone in his pocket to tell Dean he’d shown them the video. Somehow the brothers understood each other. Dean then looked around and understood what he had to do. And fast.

But Brentley was not having it. He patted the air beside him. “Get him girl!”

Brentley was visibly in shock. And angry. He was looking at his dead hellhound and grinding his teeth as he looked at Dean. Sam looked at the twins holding [Y/N]. The twins and [Y/N] showed Sam [Y/N] was not tied up. Sam mouthed “water” to [Y/N], who lightened up. He reached for the bottle in his jacket and, before the demon had time to form his next thought, splashed him. As the demon was screaming and writhing in pain, the witches nodded at each other. They chanted fast and the blonde witch, with her finger pointing to the ground, etched a demon trap in the floor. Dean bounced around the demon and pushed him inside.

Brentley regained his composure and saw the trap. “Ah, fuck! Really?” He looked at the witches. “What the hell is going on?”

The blonde one answered, “The Hatleys gave us a better deal. You’re out.”

She nodded at Sam. Sam took out his demon knife – but had a moment of hesitation, knowing that if he stepped into the demon trap, the demon would take him. Dean caught Sam’s hesitation and jumped the demon from behind, pinning him face down to the ground. Sam understood Dean’s intention the moment he moved a muscle, so he was on the demon the instant he hit the ground and stabbed him, sending yellow sparks about.

12. Homecoming

The Hatleys had transferred all the promised money and were told they could go home.

On the ride back to the bunker, Sam was driving. Dean and [Y/N] were in the back, silent, numb, leaning on each other.

“I think it’s my first real big big hunt with an actual big dangerous fight. I’m more spent than I thought I’d be. I didn’t even do much,” said [Y/N], half to himself.

Sam looked at him in the rearview mirror, “It’s normal. It’s the nerves. With more hunts you’ll be able to understand situations better, and it’ll be easier.”

“You don’t get nervous anymore?”

“No, I still do. Danger is danger. But it’s different.”

The rest of the ride home was quiet. Dean had dozed off on [Y/N]’s shoulder. [Y/N] was relaxing, the low rumble of the Impala almost putting him to sleep. The street lights were coming at regular intervals. He gave the softest kiss on Dean’s cheek. Dean didn’t wake up.

Back at the bunker, everyone sleepily shuffled to their room, wishing each other goodnight. By then, it must have been 1 a.m.

But Dean was too wounded and bloodied to go straight to bed. [Y/N] took their bathrobes from the bedroom, and brought a chair in the bathroom. “Strip, babe, I’m gonna help you clean up.” Dean didn’t say a word, he simply slowly and painfully took his clothes off, starting with his shirts. [Y/N] helped him with his boots. Dean finally sat there in his undies, slouched a bit. [Y/N] slowly and gently cleaned off the blood, slowing down when Dean winced.

“Are you bruised… everywhere?”

“It feels like it. But I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry babe.”

“It’s alright. It feels good, what you’re doing.” His tired green eyes slowly blinked as he smiled softly. He sat up and reached for a kiss.

After cleaning Dean up from the blood, they both hopped in the shower. Dean’s shoulders were hurting quite a bit, so [Y/N] helped him wash his hair. As Dean stood tall and moved his head to rinse, it hit [Y/N]. Dean had been a panther for a few days. He’d missed him. And now he’s here, all of him. They won the fight. He didn’t lose him. It overwhelmed him. He wrapped his arms around Dean, his face against his chest, water running down their bodies. Dean leaned down a bit to rest his cheek against his forehead and wrapped his arms around him. “It’s alright, sweetie, I’m here,” he said. [Y/N] looked up at Dean. He couldn’t help but get lost in his green eyes. He got on his tippy toes and kissed him gently. Dean leaned down and pressed his lips harder. Soon they were kissing hard and strong, their tongues searching and finding each other.

“Ouch!” Dean winced. [Y/N] stepped back.

“Oh I’m sorry babe… what did I do?”

“Nothing… It’s my ribs… I think one or two might be badly bruised. And…” He moved his shoulders and winced. “Anyway. Don’t worry. Come back here. You make me forget the pain.”

“Actually, I think we should move our… activities to bed. You’re bruised enough as it is.”

“Good call,” he laughed lightly, “shower sex is complicated enough as it is, no need to make it worse.”

They got out of the shower, [Y/N] put a few bandages on Dean’s wounds, and they went to their bedroom. They slipped into the sheets naked and cuddled close. They laid there, [Y/N] on his left side, his nose smooched against Dean’s jaw, Dean on his back, his free arm loosely reaching to touch [Y/N]’s arm. They stayed quiet for a moment, the little lamp on the bedside table still on. Their eyes were closed, their breathing slow.

[Y/N] took a deeper breath. “Mmm… Are you still up for it or are you too comfy?” He felt Dean’s jaw muscles move – he was smiling.

Dean took [Y/N]’s hand in his and said in a low voice, “That kiss in the shower… I missed those.”

“Mmm…”

A few moments passed again. Dean tried to reach around [Y/N]’s back to pull him closer. He groaned in pain. “Sweetie, seriously, I… I can’t. Give me a day or two. That panther fucked me up good.”

[Y/N] propped himself on an elbow and looked down at Dean, who blinked slowly, pain and sleep taking him slowly over. “Yup. You look like shit.”

Dean laughed. And winced. He took a deep breath. “Yeah. And I feel like it too.”

[Y/N] took a moment to get lost in Dean’s green eyes. “I’m just happy to have you back, babe.” And he kissed him, a sweet, soft, lingering kiss. He looked at him again a moment, reached to turn off the little lamp, and cuddled back into place close to him. Soon, in each other’s arms, their breathing slowed and they fell asleep.

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