#smurfs of the round table

[zanysmurf]

some memes i made 2018-2019

[nogutsnogloria]

summary: smurf leaves lena alone at a party. good thing you’re there.

andrew pope cody x reader (eventually)

warnings: animal kingdom spoilers, suggestive language, pope has a big fat crush, reader has a big fat crush, writer has absolutely no idea how old lena is.

you honestly have no idea why you came back here. craig was a teenage fling in your younger years before he got into everything he’s into now. he was the boy who pissed your parents off when you were being an edgy teen, you did manage to stay on good terms and when you ran into him at the beach this morning he told you to stop by at the house for a little party that was happening.

that is why you find yourself at a party hosted by his mother “it will be fun! just like old times”

except you have cleaned up your act since your teenaged years and this definitely wasn’t your crowd anymore.

currently out for summer break from your teaching job you are surrounded by many things that if you somehow were caught with them you would probably lose your teaching license.

you’re thinking about getting out of there as soon as possible when your eyes scan and you spot a very out of place little girl who can’t be older than 8 left alone at this party. you go into child preservation mode as soon as you see her. walking up to the picnic bench you crouch to her eye level.

“is it okay if i sit here?” she looks at you with some of the saddest eyes you have ever seen a child have and just nods at you so you take a seat on the picnic table right beside her. you tell her your name trying to convey that even though you are a stranger you are in no way a threat. “and what’s your name?” now deciding you’ll stick around so that you can give some shitty parent the business when they come back for this poor thing. she sits swinging her legs, her shoes scuffing the ground beneath her. “im lena”

you cant believe someone has left poor lena at a cody party of all places. so you see if there is something you can do to at least get her out of the cloud of weed smoke you are currently sitting in.

“are you hungry? i think there is usually ice cream at the parties here, should we go find it?” you turn to her because if it’s one thing you know about kids is that ice cream works 99 percent of the time. your math proves correct when her eyes light up and she nods excitedly. even the saddest children still love ice cream. you hold out your hand for your to take and she’s practically dragging you into the kitchen. you get her situated at the stool on the island and you open the freezer and dig around a bit. “ah-ha look at this, we found the jackpot” you pull out a container of vanilla and chocolate. she gives you a little timid smile and you just want to grab her and the ice cream and make a run for it.

“hmm i am going to have a scoop of both i think. what about you?” you say as you grab a couple of bowls down from the cupboard. lena nods like that’s a good plan before she’s pointing and saying. “grandma smurf keeps the sprinkles up in that cupboard, could we have those too?”

that about knocks the air out of your lungs when you register what she just said to you, but you keep your composure for her sake. “that sounds perfect”

ice cream with extra sprinkles seems to have gained her trust because after she’s all finished with hers and you’ve washed and dried both bowls lena is turning to you and going. “can i show you my toys in my room” and you are internally jumping for joy that you have somewhere away from the main party to take her. “i would love that, show me the way”

that is how you find yourself sitting in a crouched position at a little round plastic table in lena’s room acting out a tea party as she’s digging through her toy chest looking for something. she pulls out two princess tiaras and hands you one. you happily oblige her and let her lead the way on some play time. you are however a childcare provider first so as your sipping your pretend tea you have to ask. “so lena do you stay here, at grandma smurfs?” she’s busy getting the bears and dolls all situated. “sometimes i stay here. usually i stay at my house with uncle pope. my mommy and daddy are gone” your heart sinks at that. “is uncle pope at this party?” she looks up to you and shakes her head “no he had things to do so he left me with grandma smurf, and then she invited all of these people over, uncle pope said he would be back for me later though” that has you thinking to yourself well that’s good at least she won’t be sleeping here tonight.

you let lena show you all her toys and play any game she wants when the door to her room is suddenly opening. you look up with wide eyes to a man at the door staring down at you with what you think might be an amused expression, or maybe not but you think you saw the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. he’s very intimidating. “hey lena clean up your toys, it’s time to go” you realize how silly you must look as a grown woman in a princess tiara sitting having tea with a teddy bear. so you quickly stand up and whip off the crown.

you wave your hand at the mess. “i can clean up here it’s getting late” the man you are just assuming is lena’s uncle pope just nods with a thanks and is opening the door wider so that lena can get out. before she leaves she gives you a hug and says “thank you for playing with me, this has been the best party” and if that didn’t melt your heart. “thank you for letting me play i had the best time. have a goodnight lena” after that she’s leaving with a wave to you. you wave back and get to cleaning up her bedroom, once that is all finished you slide out of the house and head for your own home.

a couple of days later pope is at smurf’s house for a meeting with the family. once business is wrapped up he has question for his nephew and brothers. “does anyone know the girl who lena was with the other night?” the boys stare at him blankly telling him that they were not paying attention to what lena was up to while this party was happening. so he explains what you look like and your name that he got from lena hoping one of them has an idea. “oh she’s a friend of mine from high school, why are you asking?” craig realizes who pope is looking for.

“lena won’t stop talking about her. i was hoping i could get a hold of her and maybe get her to spend the day with her one of these days if she would be up to it.” craig is pulling out his phone to look for your number. “well i know you probably don’t want my recommendation, but for what it’s worth she grew up to be an elementary school teacher. out of good influences she’s probably up there on the list. if i remember correctly she may have also been a freak in the sheets too, not sure i had a lot of girlfriends in high school”. pope gives him an unimpressed look “dude” because he was already obsessively thinking about the beautiful girl with the adorable blush when she was caught with a plastic crown on, in the sundress with the yellow bikini strings showing off just enough to make his brain go blank. not to mention you were good with lena - that was also a new turn on for him apparently. and now he has just been given the tidbit that you were an apparent freak in the sheets - what was he even supposed to do with that information? “do you have her number or not?” craig sends your contact to his phone. pope thanks him and heads back to baz’s house where lena was with the neighbour for the hour he was gone.

he internally wrestles with himself and your contact information. should he call? should he text? should he just leave you alone all together? is that fair to lena? he thinks if he plays this right he could finally get her a good influence in her life.

he decides on a text that way you can just ignore it if you want to, there should be no pressure to answer. hey sorry to bother you i got your contact info from craig. this is lena’s uncle pope. she can’t stop talking about the fun she had with you the other day. i was hoping i could somehow convince you to spend a day with her? i think it would really make her summer.

he’s thankful that you don’t leave him to overthink the whole thing responding back fairly quickly. hi uncle pope. i would love to spend the day with lena if that is all good with you. i am free basically any day so whenever works for you. something about you calling him uncle pope has him fighting a rare grin from showing on his face. i have some work coming up in a couple of days in santa monica, is that okay? it would probably be a full day. again you don’t make him wait long. sounds like a plan to me just send me the address and time that works for me to come over.

it is the day of the job and you have shown up to a little house on the beach just like you’ve been told. you lightly knock on the door when you are greeted by uncle pope. it was a bit dark at the party so you didn’t get a good look at him last time, but standing at the door letting you in you see how handsome he is. broody stare that you always find attractive, auburn curls, and his arms… wow is all you have to say about those in his button down shirt. “come in, i thought lena would be awake by now but she’s still sleeping. she hasn’t been sleeping well so i just let her when she does” you give a little frown. the more you learn about lena the more you have a deep down desire to make sure nothing bad ever happens to her again. you follow him inside and look around. you don’t really think it’s uncle pope’s style - this place was decorated most likely by lena’s mom and dad but you spot clear clues that a child does live here. toys scattered in the living room, art hanging proudly on the fridge. it makes you smile. “i have to get going to work. is there anything you need before i go? you have my number and craig’s if anything comes up and i don’t answer. you nod at him. “yeah that should be good, nothing i need here. being this close to the beach i think i might take lena there for a bit today if that’s okay? pope nods back “she loves the beach, that would be great.”

he packs up all his things and gets ready to head out the door “have a good day at work uncle pope” you say to him. he turns back with an amused smile on his face. “you know you can just call me pope or even andrew, that’s my real name.” you give him a bit of a cheeky grin “well we never actually formally got introduced to one another so i was just going off the name i had been told” he smiles at how literal you are. “well i have to get going but you have a good day with lena also - i can’t thank you enough she’s so excited.” and with that he heads out for the day.

when lena wakes up you feed her some breakfast with what you can find and get her ready for the beach. you make sure to grab some toys, towels, water, sunscreen to reapply later and pack a quick lunch for you both to eat too. once your all ready to go you look down at lena ready to go with her bucket hat on and say “should we head to the beach?” she nods excitedly.

you honestly are having the best time with her when you think it’s been enough time in the direct sun you start to pack up with a promise of stopping by the ice cream truck on the way home.

once home you think it’s fine just to get her cleaned up and into pajamas - possibly a little early for her but you promise a movie and popcorn after she gets cleaned up and has some dinner that you made - just a simple stir fry from the ingredients you could find in the fridge.

just before you’re about to get the movie started lena turns to you “do you know how to paint nails? i haven’t had mine painted since mommy went away” ugh you were having such a good time without the dull ache of knowing how hard her life must be as smurf’s grandchild. “yes of course i can paint your nails where do you keep your polish?” she runs down the hall to grab some.

pope’s day has been so long at this job that he hasn’t had a chance to even glance at his phone. when he does he’s he sees he has some missed messages from you and panics a bit as he goes to open them but his mind is put at ease when he opens the message thread to find picture updates of your day together. lena in her bathing suit and hat next to a huge sandcastle smiling wider then he thinks he’s ever seen from her, lena all covered in sand eating a sandwich and strawberries, a candid of lena splashing around in a tide pool, another of her on the swings, one of her showing off sparkly purple finger nails, and his personal favorite a selfie of you with lena on your lap showing off your ice cream cones cheek to cheek with big grins on your faces, as if you were both in the middle of saying cheese. that’s the one he wants to make his new home screen but picks the one of lena and the sandcastle and makes the switch from his boring out of the package background.

hey sorry work took a bit longer than expected. looks like you have had a way better day than me. i should be home in a couple of hours, sorry for taking up so much of your day. he finds himself flipping through the photos you sent once more and he can’t help the smile growing on is face wondering if it was possible for a kids and adults to be soulmates. he thinks in this case it might be true. that’s when a banner notification pulls him from his thoughts. please don’t apologize at all. we had a great day. see you when you get here and drive careful! something about you telling him to drive carefully makes his stomach do little flips, because you really just are that caring that you can put that in passing like it is nothing at all to you.

pope enters the house quietly as he knows it’s late and he doesn’t want to disturb lena. he thinks she must have been able to fall asleep after the busy day she had. what he wasn’t expecting was the sight he got when he walked in the door. you have one arm on the arm rest of the couch holding your head up. your other hand has its fingers running soothing motions in lena’s hair as she sleeps with her head in your lap. the tv is off and you have tucked the blanket left on the couch around lena as she slept. “hey” he says in a low whisper as to not startle you or wake lena. “hi andrew” you say equally as quiet. “im sorry, i should have moved her into her room as soon as she started closing her eyes but i didn’t know she would fall asleep that fast”

“don’t worry about it” pope crouches down and goes to pick up lena. she immediately curls into him and rests her head on his shoulder as he brings her into her room. he gets her all tucked in, turns her night light on and slowly closes the door. he heads back into the living room and stops short watching you stand up to fold the blanket and put it back where it belongs. you turn to start to pick up the crayons left on the coffee table when he stops you “hey you don’t need to clean those i got it - it already looks better in here than when i left.” he says assessing the room, all the toys had been picked up and put away for once. you only had to pick up a few more crayons so you don’t listen to him. you put them in the case and neatly place them back on the counter where they belong. you turn to smile at him “if you’re hungry there is some dinner for you in the fridge” he nods “thanks.”

that’s when you go to start collecting your things and putting them into the bag that you brought. “well you had a long day i should get out of your hair, have a good night andrew” you look up at him with a smile. “hey hold on a second” pope is pulling out his wallet from his back pocket looking for some cash to give you. “oh you really don’t need to pay me i had a blast today. i am happy to spend time with lena any time you need.” he’s still holding the money out to you. “andrew i really appreciate it but im not a babysitter think of me as a friend, you don’t pay friends to hang out with you” he huffs a defeated sigh and sticks the money back in his wallet. “fine but next time i get to come along on you and lena’s big fun day” you giggle at that. “i would really like that actually” with that you grab your keys and feel a bit bold so you stand on your tiptoes and kiss andrew on the cheek as you head out the door. “have a good night andrew.” he stands there a bit stunned. “yeah you too. thanks again” he watches you get in your car safe and drive away before he closes the door and blows a breath out of his cheeks. maybe lena and him can share a soulmate? at least he hopes they can.

[grayandthyme]

˚ ୨୧ ⋆ ｡ ˚ thinking about lazy mornings with Tommy... poor thing never gets a day off. Sundays though? That's your day.

Fingers moved with purpose, each stroke of the pen slow and deliberate. The ink bled methodically into the crumbly white paper, curling into floral patterns—delicate bursts of peppered blue blooming at the corners.

Wedding invitations. Not for you, unfortunately.

For a couple in Jackson.

Someone whose joy you'd come to care about simply because this town had made a home in your heart. You’d do just about anything for it. Including this—drawing up invitations to tack onto bulletin boards, to slip under doors, and place into mailboxes. To make love feel a little more official.

Sundays were the quietest kind of sacred. Tommy’s only true day off—no patrol routes, no strategy sessions with Maria, no drawn-out talks about crop yields or expansion plans.

Sundays belonged to the two of you.

Usually, that meant sleeping in, tucked beneath sun-warmed knitted blankets. The world kept out by soft sheets and heavy eyelids, secret kisses and naked curled bodies.

"You’re up before me?" His voice hummed at the doorway, rough with sleep, his drawl still honey-thick. His curls were a mess, flattened on one side, the rest hanging low over freckled skin flushed from sleep.

Silly side-sleeper.

You leaned back in your chair, a soft smile, “Had to start these. Figured I’d let you sleep.”

His feet rounded the corner, the soft pats of bareness against wooden floorboards. “You tryin’ to become a Smurf or is that just a new beauty routine?”

“What?” Your hand had lifted from the paper, blue ink smearing against your palm.

He stepped deeper into the kitchen, light sprinkled in bright soft lines from the window, crossing his arms. “You’ve got blue paint on your face. Right there.” He tapped his own cheek in the mirror of yours. “Honestly, it’s a strong look. Very high fashion. Little apocalyptic war paint meets wedding planner.”

You touched your cheek, smearing the paint further. “Shit—"

Tommy just laughed, a few steps, then crouched beside you. “No, leave it. It says, ‘I’m emotionally available and artsy tortured.’ Town’ll eat it up.”

You narrowed your eyes, but the smile broke through anyway. “You know you're an ass?"

"Guilty." He leaned in closer, his face softening despite the grin. Those lovely brown eyes that don't hesitate to puppydog, even in the early mornings.

“You know you don’t have to do all this, right? People’ll still fall in love without you decoratin' their announcements.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “But they’ll look better doing it.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek—paint and all—standing up with a mock salute. “Well, Picasso, while you beautify Jackson one lovebird at a time, I’m gon' go burn breakfast. You in for eggs or the mystery leftovers from last week?”

You leaned back in your chair, pen still in hand, and grinned. “Surprise me.”

He pointed a finger at you. Finger gun. “Dangerous words in this house. You may get mystery meat pancakes.”

You laughed, deep and giggly from your stomach. “Sounds like a man who wants to sleep on the couch.”

Tommy glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous spark in his eyes. “Joke’s on you, sweetheart. I like the couch. It don't steal the blanket or elbow me half to death."

Your eyes followed him as he turned back to the kitchen, the morning light catching on the curve of his shoulders. Taut back muscles shifted beneath the thin fabric of his shirt as he reached overhead, rummaging through cabinets like a man on a mission—if that mission involved mismatched cookware and half a loaf of bread.

“You call it ‘elbowing,’ I call it unconscious justice,” you murmured, smirking to yourself as you wiped a bit of dried paint from your palm.

He paused dramatically, one hand holding a skillet, “And I call it exhaustin’ but sure, let’s romanticize it.”

You snorted, leaning your chin on the back of your hand, elbows balanced on the table. “If you cook half as good as you complain, we might actually get breakfast today.”

Tommy opened the can with a flourish and peered in, eyebrows raised. “Well, well, well. Look who’s getting questionable peaches with her eggs. Nothing but the finest for my war-paint-covered lover.”

You shook your head, still smiling, letting the sound of his playful commentary fill the space between you.

Silly.

The room smelled like paper and ink, a faint trace of coffee, and the slow build of something frying in the pan.

“Hey, Tommy?” you mused, leaning further onto the table, elbow propped as you rested your chin in your palm. A soft smear of blue dragged across your cheek, unnoticed.

He looked up from the stove, spatula in hand, one brow quirking as he caught the shift in your voice. “Yeah?”

You smiled, the kind that didn’t need a reason—soft and sure.

“I love you.”

For a second, the kitchen was quiet. Just the faint sizzle of the pan and the whistle of the breeze slipping in through the cracked window.

Tommy didn’t miss a beat. “Well, damn.” He flipped the eggs with exaggerated care. “Guess I better put the peaches on the nice plate then.”

You rolled your eyes, but he turned toward you fully this time, and the usual grin he wore had softened—still crooked, still full of life.

He wiped his hands on a towel and crossed the small space between you, reaching down to run his thumb gently over the paint on your cheek, not bothering to clean it, just to touch. His hand lingered there, warm against your skin.

“I love you too,” he said, not as a joke, not as a punchline—just truth, spoken like it was written in stone. “More than I know what to do with most days.”

You tilted your head into his hand, catching the corner of his palm with a kiss. “Then let’s just start with breakfast.”

˚ ୨୧ ⋆ ｡ ˚

[insufferablemonsters]

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔲𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 @smurfdemon.

spike  knew  no  matter  what  he  said  or  how  he  said  it,  she'd  never  take  his  violent  threats  seriously.  she  was  under  the  impression  she  was  above  all  that  roamed  this  world,  even  though  she's  been  dethroned  from  her  rule,  but  it  didn't  matter  what  spike  said  or  did,  she'd  never  think  otherwise  or  never  let  go  of  the  idea  that  she  could  reclaim  her  royalty,  her  ruling  over  all  creatures  and  wipe  out  humanity.  spike  knew  she  couldn't.  he  wouldn't  let  her,  anyway.  he'd  do  whatever  he  needed  to  do  to  keep  her  under  control.  he  cocked  a  single  brow  at  her  response  and  scoffed  under  his  breath,  ❝  pish  posh.  i'd  give  you  a  run  for  your  money,  and  you  know  it,  blue  bird  ❞  he  replied  and  pointed  a  finger  directly  in  her  face.

spike  did  not  hesitate  to  shoot  her  a  sarcastic  remark  in  response  to  her  first  words,  ❝  yes,  i'd  think  so.  you  are  walkin'  'round  in  the  bird's  body,  aren't  you?  i'd  say  that  makes  you  more  responsible  than  anyone  ❞  he  stated  firmly  and  confidently.  but  then  she  turns  to  face  him  and  her  cold  eyes  cause  the  vampire  to  freeze  in  the  seat  he  sat  in.  he  swallowed  thickly  and  stayed  quiet  while  she  continued  to  point  out  plain,  simple  facts  that  he  never  thought  about  until  now.  on  some  level,  a  level  he  didn't  want  to  admit  out  loud  (  let  alone  himself  ),  he  knew  she  was  right,  at  the  very  least  partially.  charles,  himself,  angel,  even  the  ex-watcher  ...  they  were  all  to  blame  for  something  when  it  came  to  fred's  death  and  possession  from  illyria.  everything  happens  for  a  reason   —   spike  knew  that  better  than  most  people,  living  or  dead.  he  stood  up  abruptly  when  she  finished  and  threw  the  remote  controller  onto  the  sofa  next  to  her,  pointing  his  index  finger  at  her  again,  ❝  her  name  was  fred  ❞  he  stated  angrily,  eyes  flared  with  vex.  ❝  you  think  you're  tired  from  hearin'  how  you  ruined  our  lives?  imagine  how  tiresome  it  must  be  to  hear  'bout  the  almighty  smurf  demon  who  can't  even  beat  a  bloody  turtle  on  the  bloody  video  game  !!  ❞  he  finished,  exclaiming  and  tossing  an  empty  beer  bottle  from  the  coffee  table  to  the  wall  behind  the  television,  smashing  it  into  pieces.  he  stood  with  his  back  turned  to  her,  forcing  himself  to  find  some  composure.  ❝  no  matter  which  way  you  slice  it,  luv,  no  matter  who  you  try  t'  blame,  it  is  still  her  face  you're  wearin'  ❞  he  finally  said  softly,  looking  over  his  shoulder  to  peer  at  her.  ❝  why  else  do  y'think  headboy  can't  stand  lookin'  at  you?  ❞

[ulyflynn]

"Because I'm a fucking idiot, clearly," Uly says with a beat of annoyance, almost all of it aimed at himself though some of it stemmed from Madison. He wonders to himself when it is he was going to learn his lesson and know better when it came to getting mixed up with girls who clearly had a screw loose, but that was his type.

( Wrong was always going to be appealing when he couldn't figure his shit out with who he knew was right. )

"I don't know, I wanted to fuck her, you never done something you knows going to shoot you in the foot for a fuck you know's good?"

He's starting to think maybe his approach to these things isn't a universal one as he asks that question while he takes up two pool cues, passing one of them over to Asher as they take command of the pool table just before three college aged looking guys could place their beers down on the top rail and stake the same claim.

If there was going to be an attempt to verbalise the intent, it seemed to die under the weight of the look that Uly shot the tallest of the trio, an unspoken try it as he chalked the tip of his pool cue.

"I'll rack up," He says to Asher before he's blowing away excess blue chalk, placing the small square smurf-side up on the top rail as he feels around his pocket for change, "Get us some shots, whatever's strong. I'll get the next round."

@heyits-asher

Asher keeps his mouth shut in the form of a wide, guilty grin. The location of his phone is as much a mystery to him as it is Uly, and Ash can’t be sure he even brought it to the festival to begin with. He can’t lie so he won’t. 

“Just let her know I’m with you and we’re bouncing.” 

So she doesn’t try to hunt him down in these endless-seeming gardens.

There is something funny about the way the ride to the Reef does become an opportunity for a vent session. Ash doesn’t mind, he will happily be Uly’s soundboard whenever he needs it for whatever it might be.

He also doesn’t bother trying to poke holes in the logic. He feels what he feels, no matter what he insists otherwise, and it only leaves Ash experiencing the slow light of a dim light bulb in that head of his.

Always, more than it should switch on. The last time it did, Asher signed Uly up for a blind date, and that should be enough of a sign to not entertain any ideas.

“Why’d you take the picture? She’s going to post it, we both know this.” He pauses only after entering the Reef to give Uly a knowing glance, but he does want to know the answer.

There’s the silent thought of Madison passing the picture around her friend group just to show them, then the added idea his brain-to-mouth filter can’t seem to stop from coming out, “Maybe it’s for bragging rights. You know, because you’re hot, dude.”

@ulyflynn

[trapperisbestboi]

The Stubborn Narrator™

A MenWritingWomen parody

Chapter 1

This is the story of a man named John.

John worked in a coffee shop.

His job was simple: he stood behind the counter and he pushed buttons on a coffee machine.

Orders came to him through notes left by the waitresses on the counter telling him what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order.

John liked his job before, but since the pandemic precautions had to be taken and they made his work unbearable.

He was trapped behind that cold and lonely counter, he couldn't chat with the clients as they were allowed to stay at the tables outside exclusively and the face of the gorgeous young students working as waitresses were to be covered with hideous handkerchief-like masks.

The days had become monotonous, lonely and boring.

He had even tried to call back a few exes, in the hope of at least scratching a certain "itch" at least, but none were willing to risk their health for a couple of rides.

Such is the mistery of women.

They ask for handsome young men, with a humongous butternut squash and abs like King Bowser's carapace...but won't get close in fear of a simple flu.

And yet they should all thank the Lord just for being acknowledged by such an Apollonian beauty.

His skin was of the same colour as an F4 coffee that was smooth like silk, his eyes were like Italy roast beans, his lips soft and plump like pandoro and his voice was deep and powerful like thunder. His curly hair were the colour of the Hershey's Cookies & Chocolate bar and they flowed down like a natural frame around his clavicles.

Alas, what good is a Cupid without a Psyche?

Luckily one day, something unexpected happened.

Something that would forever change John;

Something he would never quite forget.

He came in an hour before the opening hours to prepare the supplies like he did everyday.

While he was putting the glasses in their place, Taylor Swift's Shake it off started blasting at full volume.

John tripped but managed to not break anything and answered his phone.

It was his boss, warning him about a new waitress starting that morning.

John thanked him with a smile, even though he couldn't see him anyway and ended the call before swearing at him.

J : "That dumbass couldn't just send a message like everyone else? And who cares, I probably wouldn't have noticed anyways!"

The rest of the hour passed with no other inconveniences.

The waitresses arrived and the day started like usual.

Around midday a loud crash was heard nor far from the café accompanied by a couple of curses and a young woman came running in the shop accompanied by the sound of her ass cheeks clapping.

Her skin was of the same colour as hazelnut ice-cream, her eyes were like smurf gummies, her lips thins and glossy and her voice was soft and clear like water slime. Her straight hair were the colour as the muzzle of newborn piglets and were pulled up in an adorably messy tall braid. She wore a purple sundress short and translucent enough to feed the imagination, but covering the amount needed to leave you hungry. She obviously wasn't used to run as could be vouched by her wide, round hips and the two huge pastry puffs hanging on her chest that moved in perfect harmony with her lungs that were trying desperately to recover.

M : "I...I'm sorry, there was a...a protest at the bus station and it wa...it was really far so I had to come with the...the bike..."

J : "It's ok...you're the new waitress right? Do you need to sit down?"

M : "Yh-heah"

The woman took the nearest chair and fell on it like the apple on Newton making her watermelons jump like a cat surprised by a cucumber.

M : "Hi...I'm-John?!"

The Venus accidentally said his name instead of hers, what an endearing silly rabbit.

J : "Do we know each other?"

She lowered her mask showing a smug smile under her tiny freckled nose.

J : "MARIE EFFING SMITH???

The flat, skinny idiot that was always late and constantly picked up fight with the buffest people in the gym that I had to rescue constantly??"

Marie got up and stood in the sassiest pose possible.

M : "One I'm not an idiot, if it wasn't for ME you'd still be in elementary school buster!

Two I was only picking up fight with them so you could show off in front of da girlz.

I will not address the rest."

Am I doing this correctly?

Feel free to give constructive criticism.

List of chapters + plot in link below

https://www.tumblr.com/trapperisbestboi/692758068194377728/i-think-by-now-we-all-know-the-literary-horror

[slvtforswift]

pool party: j cody

about: you’re j’s best friend and there’s a party at the cody house. he invites you and you’re partying with his uncles and a bunch of other randos at this party, but what happens when something unexpected happens?

warning: inappropriate language, drinking, smoking, slight smut

You entered the yard of the Cody house to see at least 70 people around the yard and in the house.

You look around and bump into someone behind you.

“Ooh.”

You turn around to see J’s uncle Deran.

“Hey, Y/N. Walk much?” Deran asked.

“Fuck off, Deran.” You gave him the finger.

“Ah, she’s feisty and she hasn’t even drank yet!” Craig’s voice boomed as he walked over to you and Deran.

You shook your head at him.

“Well, we can change that. Let’s do a round of shots.” Craig smirked.

“Thanks, but I have to find J.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do. Come on drinks are this way.” Deran nodded in your direction.

Craig grabbed your arm and dragged you as Deran led the way.

They poured three shots of tequila for the three of you.

“Guys, are you trying to get me drunk? You know tequila fucks me up!” You exclaimed.

“Oh, just drink it.” Craig waved you off.

Sighing, you picked up the shot glass, the other two mimicking your actions, and you downed your shots all at the same time.

You made a face and you put your shot glass down, feeling someone brush against you.

You looked and saw J.

“J.” You smiled.

“Hey.” He smiled back.

You gave him a small hug.

“J! Do a round with us!” Craig exclaimed.

“Yeah, come on! Y/N just did one with us. Join!”

“Uh, sure.” J shrugged.

Deran got another shot glass and poured the four drinks. They clanked their glasses together, yelling, “cheers” and downed them.

“Alright. That’s enough for me. J, would you grab me a beer while I go join that game of beer pong?” You asked.

“Anything for you.”

You kissed him on the cheek and skipped your way to the beer pong table.

J brought you your beer and watched as you played game after game of beer pong. He loved how intense and feisty you got, but also how you got so excited every time you got one in.

After a while, you were bored of beer pong and took of your top and shorts, revealing your black bikini, and jumped into the pool.

There was a game of volleyball going on, except for the net, and you joined in, J still watching you.

“You like her, don’t you, baby?”

J looked over to see Smurf, his grandmother, sitting next to him.

He just took a sip of his beer.

“Well, if you don’t do something about it, I think your uncle Craig might.”

Smurf pat the boy and walked away.

J came over to the side of the pool where you were.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hey.” You smiled.

“Having fun?” He asked.

“Yeah. I am. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Yeah.”

There was a silence in between you two.

“Help me out.” You reached your arm up.

He grabbed your hand and you pulled him into the pool.

You were laughing hysterically, but J clearly wasn’t.

He grabbed you by the waist and lifted you up.

“What’re you doing?” You asked.

He placed you on the edge of the pool and reached up to kiss you.

You immediately kissed back and his hands found the string of your bikini bottoms where it was tied and he began untying it.

“J!” You pulled away. “Not here.”

“Then come with me.”

He pulled you into the garage and closed the door behind you guys and you allowed your bikini bottom’s to fall.

You smiled and he kissed your lips again, giving you the best night of your life, even if it was unexpected.

[illusiondixon]

Meeting

“So here’s to Sam and his awesome LSAT victory”

“Alright, alright. It’s not that big of a deal”

“He acts all humble, but he scored a 174”

“Is that good?

“Scary good”

You were sitting with your best friends Jessica and Sam along with another friend at a halloween party. You got into Stanford while in your senior year of high school

“You are a first-round draft pick. You can go to any law school you want”

“Actually, I got an interview here Monday. If it goes okay, I think I got a shot at a full ride next year”

I said “Hey, it’s gonna go great” “It better”

“How does it feel to be the golden boy in your family”

“Ah they don’t know”

“Oh no, I would be gloating”

Me and Jess looked at Sam. You both knew that he didn’t have a good history with his family, especially you. You grew up in the hunting life as well as Sam. You both found out when there was a werewolf on campus and you both killed it together. The most surprising part was that you both found out your mothers died the same way, a fire on the ceiling when you were both six months old. After that, you and Sam became close and was best friends. Every time one of you had a problem when it came to home, you would run to each other since you both understood. It both killed you how you had to keep it from Jess, but it was for her own safety. 

“Why not?”

“Cause we’re not exactly The Brady’s”

“I’m not exactly The Huxtable's. More shots?”

“No, No”

“Hey, Y/N”

One of your friends called over from another table. You got up and said “I’ll be back”

After the party, you decided to crash at Sam and Jessica’s dorm since yours was farther away. You heard rustling and grabbed your pocket knife. You saw what seemed to be Sam standing in front of another figure. You turned on the light switch and said “What the hell?”

“y/n/n”

“Dean this is my friend y/n, y/n this is my brother Dean”

Dean said in a flirty tone “So just a friend huh? Lucky me”

You looked over at him and said “yeah lucky you”

You went over to the mini fridge to grab a beer. 

Sam said “Whats wrong? Is there a hunt nearby or something?”

“Yeah i was just gonna catch some deer”

You laughed to yourself and Sam said “Dean she’s a hunter, your good”

Dean looked over to you and said surprisingly “wait really?”

“Yup, grew up in the life and came here”

He kept looking at you with almost lust.

“Sam, y/n/n?”

“Jess, hey”

“And Dean, this is my girlfriend Jessica”

“Wait your brother Dean?”

“I love the smurfs”

“Just let me put something on” 

“No no its fine, I just need to borrow your boyfriend here to talk about some private family business but it was nice meeting you.”

“No" Sam said moving towards Jessica

“No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her”

“Okay um, Dad hasn’t been home in a few days”

“So he’s working overtime on a miller time shift. He’ll stumble in sooner or later.”

Me and Dean looked at each other, reading his mail.

“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

“Jess, y/n excuse us” 

Sam and Dean left the dorm

Me and Jess looked at each other and she says “Well that was weird”

I shrugged my shoulders and said “I don’t know” 

She shrugged her shoulders as well and left the room. I went over to the kitchen to raid their fridge, as I always do

Time passed by and Sam was passing through the kitchen with a bag in his hand. I said “Sam, if you need backup just call me. I may be rusty but only if you need an extra hand” 

He smiled and nodded saying “Thanks y/n/n” 

You nodded and went back to bed

~The next day~

You knocked on the door and it revealed Jess

She smiled and let me in.

We sat down on her couch drinking wine and talking about anything, mostly gossiping. 

She looked over to me and said “So..Dean?”

“What about him?”

“What do you think of him?”

“He seems nice”

She looked over me then gasped “You like him”

“Jess-“

“No no, you do. I can see it in you. Come on this is a chance”

“A chance for what?”

“To be with a guy”

“Yeah my best friends brother. I’m not doing that it’s just wrong”

“Oh come on I’m sure Sam wouldn’t mind”

“No I don’t play that route”

“Okay fine but you definitely like him don’t you?”

“I mean he’s cute”

She gave me a look and I said “Okay he is very attractive”

She smiled and squealed

I said pointing my finger “You don’t tell anybody this, especially Sam”

“Well what about Dean”

“God no”

“Okay okay, I won’t tell anybody. I promise”

“Thank you” and we both clicked our drinks together taking a sip of our wine

~

“Hey, you want breakfast?”

“No thanks. So how’d you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?”

“Yeah well, hunting ain’t exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply. It’s not our fault they send us the cards.”

“Yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?”

Dean said getting in the car “Uh…Bert Aframian and his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal”

“Sounds about right. I swear man, you got to update your cassette tape collection.”

“Why?”

“Well for one, they’re cassette tapes. And two, Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica?” 

Dean grabbed the cassette tape from Sam’s hand

“It’s the greatest hits of the mullet rock” Sam said

“House rules Sammy,-Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole”

Dean started the car and turned on the music

“You know Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It’s Sam, okay?”

“Sorry I can’t hear you, the musics too loud” 

Dean thought for a moment and shut off the car

Sam said “What are you doing?”

Dean said “So y/n?”

“Dude-“

“What? She seems like a cool chick and very hot”

“Look if you’re just gonna hook up with her, I don’t even want you near her.”

“Who says it’s just a hookup?”

“Well last time I checked, that all you do and I don’t want her to just be one of them”

Dean said “Whatever dude” and he started the car and drove.

The truth was that Dean really liked her and wanted something with her. He didn’t know why he felt that way, but he just did. But he knew that with the different lives they both have, it wouldn’t work out.

~

You were sleeping in your dorm when your phone rang. You put on your reading glasses and looked at the phone seeing Sam’s name. You answered it and said “Hey what’s up?”

“Jessica’s dead”

You sat up and said “What?”

“It was the thing that killed our moms”

“I’m on my way” and you hung up the phone

You grabbed a hoodie and put on your shoes. You ran to your car and drove over to their dorm. You saw fire trucks outside with smoke coming out of their dorm and parked the car. 

You got out of your car and saw Sam by an Impala holding a gun. You ran over to him and said “Sam”

He looked over with his eyes filled with tears.

You pulled him in a hug and his arms were around your back.

He said “The thing came after her”

Tears coming out of your eyes and you said “I know” 

You both pulled apart and he picked up the gun again. You leaned against the opened trunk staring at the road in front of you, blaming myself. 

For weeks, you've been having the same nightmare of Jessica dying the same way as your mother. You didn’t want to tell Sam because you didn’t want to make things worse for him. You knew that it was horrible to keep this a secret but you couldn’t. Since you grew up constantly losing people, you always figured that it was just a nightmare of losing your best friend. You felt that you should’ve protected her.

Dean walked over to us looking at us both

He said calm “So what now”

You said “I’m dropping out”

Sam looked up and said “What?”

“I’m hunting this son of a bitch down. First my mom, now my best friend. I’m not just gonna let it walk anymore. Sam I’m sorry I just can’t” 

“I’m leaving too”

Dean said “Wait so you both are dropping out now?”

I said “What’s the point anymore”

Sam said “Look the thing is after one of us, or the both of us. We have to be prepared. I say Dean we find Dad then go after this thing.” 

Dean said “Okay, y/n you coming with us?”

“No I’m gonna try to get a start on this thing but it might take me a while. You guys go find your dad”

Dean said “Take your time”

I said “I’ll call you if I have a lead”

Sam said “We will too”

I smiled and walked away to my car

[mermaidenisaacs]

isaac is a soft warm husband

it’s the night of lydia and malia’s bachelorette party and isaac is concerned by his wife’s drunken texts and questionable appearances on other people’s snapchat stories.  

romance/humor, married au, isaac is very fond of his wife 

warnings: graphic sexual language

To clarify, going to Dildopolis was Lydia’s idea, not mine. 

Lydia’s bachelorette party turned out to be a pretty wild night. After dinner and drinks, Kira surprised us with a party bus. She also invited the men from the strip club to join us, so we all piled in, and danced and drank as we were driven around the city. 

We figured Malia wouldn’t mind that her bride-to-be would be grinding with oily, shirtless men with perfectly sculpted six packs the night before she got married; after all, she was the one who pulled the youngest dancer, Lito, between her and Lydia and made a human gyrating sandwich.

Isaac texted me around 1 am, right after I’d downed another shot of fireball whiskey. 

Isaac (1:10 am): Looks like you’re having a good time

I was confused by his text and showed it to Erica, who explained that it was probably because she had posted a video of me on her Snapchat story licking salt off of one of the stripper’s abs. If she kept this up, I’d be divorced by the time Lydia got married. With blurry vision and sloppy fingers, I texted him back, determined to make actual words happen. 

me (1:13 am): hhe was hot butt uknoww I like your soft tummmy mre

Dildopolis was a sex store at the corner of Baker Street and Cedar Drive. Lydia noticed its bright flashy neon sign and pointed out that it wouldn’t be a bachelorette party without stopping at the local sex shop. She had a fair point. 

I tried to my best not to let on that I’d never been to a sex store, but all the alcohol was breaking down my cool exterior. Stumbling into one of the aisles, I came across a jar of multicolored circular rubbery things, which turned out to be flavored condoms. It was Kira who found me, doubled over in laughter with tears in my eyes.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, rubbing my back. 

I held up a blue condom that purported to be mint flavored. Wheezing through breaths of laughter, I slurred, “It’s a blue condom, Kira. Why would anyone want to turn their dick blue? Who is trying to have sex with smurf dick? Also, does this mean people are putting on condoms to give head?” Kira and I held on to each other while we sobbed from giggling so hard. 

“You should get one of these for Isaac,” she drunkenly suggested. I finally managed to calm down, but after hearing her recommendation, another round of giggles ensued. 

“Oh my god, can you imagine me going up to Isaac being like, ‘Honey, I think my breath smells bad. Mind if I have a taste of that minty dick before work?” Kira doubled over in laughter. Another condom caught my eye, an orange one that looked surprisingly appealing. “Hey look, this is citrus! I like this flavor. You know what, screw it, I’m getting it. I think Lahey might be a little mad at me, so I’m gonna get him a present. The gift of blowjob!” I declared with bright hopes. 

“You totally should! No guy’s gonna turn down an enthusiastic, flavored blowjob. Trust me,” Kira said like she was relaying classified government information. 

I paused. “Wait, have you and Scott…?” 

“...chocolate is our favorite flavor.” 

“Oh my god, they have chocolate?!”

~*~*~*~

My first visit to Dildopolis was not a frugal excursion. I ended up buying two twelve packs of flavored condoms, and nearly skipped out of the store with my tiny gift bag, eager to show Isaac my latest investment.

An hour later, the party bus dropped me off at my house. Malia and Lydia walked me to my front door and I hugged them for a little too long, probably. 

“You guys are the best, the best! I loooove you, and I love love, and I love the lesbians, I love your hair, Lydia--” Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me and saved Lydia from my rambling. I was hugged from behind into someone’s warm chest. I looked up to see a tuft of curly hair blowing in the wind. It was Isaac, smiling down at me. 

“Hi baby,” he said warmly. “Did you have something to drink?” 

“My husband!” I exclaimed in drunken thrill. “My husband, I love you so dearly, you’re so tall and good, babyyy you smell so good, how do you always smell like cinnamon buns…” Turning around, I stood on my tip toes and sponged open-mouthed kisses along Isaac’s throat. He lovingly stroked my hair and awkwardly bid Lydia and Malia goodnight. 

“Thanks so much for dropping her off,” he said. “Congratulations on everything. I’m so happy for you two,” Isaac sweetly intoned, then walked us inside our home. 

I stumbled into our living room, set down the gift bag, and began what my inebriated brain firmly believed was a perfect seduction process. While I wasn’t as wasted as I had been earlier, I was still slightly tipsy, and very excited to give Isaac his present. 

If only I could remember how to take off my clothes. I fiddled uselessly with the buttons of my coat. Isaac watched me struggle with an amused twinkle in his eyes. After many failed attempts, I pouted at him. “Isaaaac,” I whined. “Can you help me take my clothes off?” 

He chuckled and relented. He took off my coat and helped me out of my heels, all the while steadying me as I teetered every which way. 

“What’s that?” he asked curiously. He was looking at the small silver bag I’d brought home that was on the coffee table. He reached over to retrieve it. 

I slapped his hand. “No! It’s a surprise,” I said with a grin. 

“A surprise? I’m surprised you had time to stop somewhere and buy something. Didn’t it get in the way of all the stripper licking fun?” he said grumpily.

“Aw, babyyy,” I cooed and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Were you jealous? I’m sorry, I was really drunk, but you know it didn’t mean anything. And you know I’m not lying, wolfie,” I said, tapping his ear. 

Isaac sighed. “I know. I just didn’t know there would be strippers.” 

I nodded and apologized again. “I know you’re upset, but not to worry! That’s what the present is for. Come on, husband, let’s go to the bedroom!” 

He should have been used to this behavior by now; I was always a happy and horny drunk. I grabbed the gift bag and tugged on Isaac’s hand, pulling him behind me. When we reached our bed, I lightly shoved him so he fell back on the mattress. 

“Feeling a little aggressive, Mrs. Lahey?” Isaac teased. He leaned up on his elbows and grinned at me. I shivered. He knew I liked it when he called me that. 

“Just… excited to show you the present,” I said bashfully, throwing a smile over my shoulder. “Now take off your pants, Mr. Lahey.” 

Isaac’s pupils dilated and his smile disappeared, replaced with a look of longing and lust. He obeyed wordlessly. I unzipped my dress, pulling it over my head. When I finished undressing, I was left in a set of matching black lacy lingerie. (Lydia had hand picked the party favors, and she decided I looked best in black.) Isaac was laying on our bed, completely naked, smirking with sinful intentions. 

His eyes raked hungrily over my body, and all of a sudden, I remembered what I intended to do, and I felt really, really silly. And very embarrassed. 

“I bought flavored condoms,” I suddenly blurted out. The sexy mood I’d successfully cultivated came to a screeching halt. 

Isaac blinked. “What?” 

I sighed and pulled out the contraceptives. “They’re flavored condoms. That’s the surprise. It seemed like such a good idea at the sex store--”

“You went to a sex store?” Isaac interrupted. He was biting back a grin. “Was this your first time at a sex store?”

“Yes,” I said sadly. “And I got a whole bunch of these condoms, but I was also really wasted. And now that I’m not as wasted, I just feel really dumb,” I finished lamely. I plopped down on the bed beside Isaac and looked down. “I’m sorry. I ruined the sexiness.”

Isaac chuckled affectionately. “Baby, it’s okay. You didn’t ruin anything. Here, let me see those.” He took the condoms from me and inspected each one. “Holy shit, I had no idea this was a thing.” 

“Neither did I! That orange one looks the least gross.” 

“Yeah?” Isaac looked up, eyes wide with surprise. He grinned wickedly. “Wanna try it?” 

I gaped. “Really? You want to?” I asked shyly. 

“Yeah, why not. Not about to turn down a blowjob from my gorgeous wife,” he said smirking. He kissed the corner of my mouth. 

I laughed and kissed him back. Fisting his curls, I laid on top of Isaac while we made out. He squeezed my ass and pulled me closer, and his tongue lightly swiped across my bottom lip. I felt him, hard and ready, and pressed against my thigh. I licked my palm and rubbed him, and he hissed at the initial contact. 

“Mr. Lahey?” 

“Hm?”

“I’m like weirdly excited for this.”

Isaac chuckled fondly. “Cute.”

Sitting up, I tore open the condom wrapper and licked the rubber. The taste settled on my tongue. It was vaguely citrusy. 

“Hm, not terrible,” I described. I rolled the rubber onto Isaac’s erect shaft. Once more, the sexiness came to an abrupt stop. 

One look at Isaac’s bright orange dick, and I fell backwards laughing. 

“Oh my god,” I gasped between fits of laughter. “Honey, that looks so ridiculous! It’s just so, oh god, it’s just so dumb.” I was crying now, wiping away tears before they ruined my makeup. 

Isaac stared at it, transfixed with disbelief. There was so much confusion and horror in his expression. 

“It’s… orange,” he said, bewildered at the surprisingly bright apricot hue. “Babe, my dick is orange. They should’ve called this condom The Donald Trump.” 

Laughter bubbled in my throat again and I fell into his side, laughing into his shoulder. This time, he joined me. 

“I still maintain this is better than the blue ones,” I said. “At least you don’t have smurf dick.” 

Isaac looked at me confused, then erupted into giggles. “Yikes. Well, what should we do?” he asked, frowning at his erection. He looked so annoyed at his own body. My original intent was to ease his annoyance, and I was going to see this through, dammit. 

“We’re gonna do what we came here to do,” I replied, biting back another laugh. 

“You don’t have to--” I shushed Isaac’s protests with a kiss, and straddled his legs. I wrapped my fist around his cock, which had shriveled slightly during our laughing fit. Leaning down, I tried to ignore the bright tangerine color and gave it some experimental licks. 

The unpleasant color was easy to ignore once I heard Isaac’s groan of pleasure. I closed my mouth around the head and swirled my tongue around him, trying to extract more of the slightly sweet orange taste. I didn’t actually expect the flavor to be enticing, but it did actually motivate me to keep going. Slowly, I moved my mouth lower down his shaft, taking him inch by inch. 

“Fuck, baby,” Isaac groaned. “That feels so good, just like that…” His hand came down and sweetly brushed away strands of loose hair from my face. He collected all my hair into a makeshift ponytail and tugged. The pressure felt so good on my scalp that it urged me to take him deeper. 

It would be expected that being married to him would let me get used to Isaac’s size. He wasn’t the biggest I’d ever seen, but he was still considerable, and I had to take him just as slowly each time (unless it was one of those nights where we wanted it rough and hard and fast and the sex was on the good side of painful). 

I had taken nearly all of Isaac when he reached the back of my throat. My eyes involuntarily stung with tears, but no part of me wanted to stop. Isaac helped me. He held me down with one hand, and combed his fingers through my scalp with the other. 

“That’s good baby, that feels so fucking perfect. You take me so good,” Isaac grunted. 

He finally let go, finally let me move away to breathe. I didn’t wait long to take him back in, suctioning my lips around his shaft as I bobbed my head up and down. I knew he was about to come because I could hear him panting, could see him white-knuckling the bedspread and clenching his stomach. 

I released him with a tiny pop. “Come on baby, are you gonna come for me?” I purred encouragingly and vigorously pumped his shaft with my fist. “That’s it, you’re so close, you’re so fucking close…” 

“I can’t, I can’t hold on, I’m coming,” Isaac harshly whispered. He grunted my name and I made fast work rolling off the condom. Isaac firmly cupped my chin and entered my mouth again. He quivered on my tongue, then released down my throat, coating my mouth. 

Isaac stared at me, dazed and fucked out, and fondly stroked my cheek. He tugged on my arms and pulled me next to him, cradling me against his chest. 

“How was that for you?” he asked a little nervously. 

“Good, actually. You?”

“I liked it,” he said quietly.

I smiled victoriously. “Then it’s a good thing we have twenty three more condoms.” Isaac snorted. “We can always borrow some from Scott and Kira if we run out.” 

Isaac gaped. “I’m sorry, what? They’ve used these too?” 

I nodded. “Where do you think I got the idea?” 

Isaac smiled into another kiss. “You’re incredible, Mrs. Lahey.” 

*

another’s note: i found another isaac fic from my old blog. thank god for google docs. pls let me know what you think or interact with me bc i love talking about isaac and the world is on fire ahaa <3

[pixie88]

The Bribe

Chapter 10 - Together - Adam & Ellie.

A/N: Once again thanks for brainstorming ideas lovely @aussieez​ ​you are a star! I’m thinking of finishing this series soon, when I finally published it a few months ago after it being sat on my laptop for almost 10 months I didn’t think anyone would read it let alone actually enjoy it! So thank you for sticking with this A&E series I always love your lovely comments they make my day! This chapter is from both F!MC & M!MC POV. I’m so nervous about this chapter you’ll ever love it or hate it! ATM I am typing with only 8 fingers so I’m hoping I removed the mistakes!🤦‍♀️ I hope you like it! 😘

If you like it let me know or if you don’t still tell me why I won’t be offended!

I am only tagging those who have asked to be tagged in this series from now on as I don’t want to annoying people with tags. So Let me know if you would like to be tagged and if I missed anyone sorry just let me  know!  

Find previous chapters HERE under Together - Adam & Ellie.

Song: Alicia Keys - In Common The chorus in this reminds me of A&E’s blackmailing ways.

Word count: 2234

WARNINGS: ⚠️ Fluffy fluff, Angst & adult language.

Pairings: Adam x Ellie.

Enjoy!

F!MC POV

He hangs up the phone before putting the phone to his ear again, I jump down off the counter "Adam, what is it?"

He turns away from me "Nan, I just got your message"

"Adam?"

"One minute beautiful" he mouths to me.

"WHAT! You have got to be joking! I don't think so. I'll ask her hang on, Ellie have the police called you?"

I pull out my phone "I forgot to take it off silent, I have a missed call"

"Call them back and ask for an update on your case. Nan I've got to go. Will do bye"

I redial the number that called me "Hi, It's Ellie Barlow. I had a missed call from you. OK, thank you....Oh, so you've dropped the charges against her altogether?" Adam's face turns to stormy, I feel like my legs turn to jelly"Right, OK, well, thanks for letting me know" I hang up, my mind is trying to process what just happened, I don't hear Adam until he grasps my shoulders.

"Ellie? What do you mean dropped the charges?"

"Adam, they dropped the charges against her due to not enough evidence, some story she's given them about me being jealous because she's your ex, she....she even has an alibi saying she was nowhere near your office" my chest becomes tight "Adam, I can't breathe!"

"Hey Ellie let's sit down and take some deep breaths OK. Come on," He walks me over to the kitchen table "Now deep breaths in 1...2...3...4 and out 1...2...3...4" we repeat this until I've calmed down.

"What do I do now? They made me feel like I was lying!"

He lifts my chin to look up at him "Hey, we will sort this when we get home, I promise you. For now there isn't anything we can do so let's just enjoy our time away forget about it"

I smile softly "You're right, Do you think your parents will mind if we stay one more day I don't want to go back yet. I know you have work..."

He pulls me towards his chest "Hey! I'm call Rob explain he won't mind. If you need another day then that's what you will get. Plus I think mum will be over the moon we're staying an extra day" I hear him chuckle.

~*~*~*~

"Ellie, Wakey-wakey!"

I stir "Hmm?"

"There's my beautiful wife, come on we're going to bed late," I look at him confused "While you've been snoring me, Mum and Dad came up with something to do today. Something you said you've wanted to do in the past"

"What? Go back to sleep a little while longer?!" I put the duvet over my head blocking out the light.

I feel his knees sink into the mattress either side of me "Hey Come on, get up" he pulls the duvet away.

I look up at him hovering over me "Can't we just spend the day in bed?"

He leans in to kiss my cheek "As much as I would love that, no, not today. Now get up lazy bones before I make you?"

Before I can ask what he means he starts tickling me, "Ahhh!" I shriek "OK, OK I'll get up"

"Thought you might" he smirks.

~*~*~*~

"ARCHERY? We are doing archery? Is it safe to do?"

"Hey, do you really think I would let my pregnant wife do something that wasn't safe?"

"I suppose not" I roll my eyes.

"Its safe as long as you don't step in front the fired arrows"

I snort "Well, duh. But I say let's make this interesting"

He raises his brows "How?"

"The loser is at mercy to the winner?"

"OK, if I win I want you to wear nothing to bed tonight"

I chuckle "Shh! Your patents will hear!"

He looks over at them "Their busy talking to the instructor. Chosen your prize?"

I pretend to think for a minute "Yours is just obvious, but mine will be you have to say yes to anything I ask you to do today!"

His smile drops "What?!"

I wink "What? You wish you had thought of that? Or are you scared"

"Nope! Bring it on beautiful!"

We are on our second rounds Adam has 7 points I got 9 and just scored another 10 "I thought you said you haven't done this before Ellie?"

He takes his second go and scores an 8 "I haven't! I've only done it on the Wii sports!"

He laughs, "You're telling me that I am losing to someone who learned to play on a computer game?!"

"Well you can give up now"

"Not over until it's over baby"

I take my turn and score a 10 "There isn't any point of taking my last go. I've lost!"

"Aww, come on Adam you might win" I laugh. He takes his go and hits a 10 "Well done! Mister"

His arms wrap around me "Looks like I'm your Yes man for the day. What's your first request?"

"Hmm, let me think....kiss me?"

He doesn't answer instead his lips crash to mine "If your request are like this I'm going to have as much fun as you"

"Hey you two have you finished?" Al calls over.

Adam pulls his lips away from mine, his gaze still on mine giving me butterflies "Yes, Dad, we are done"

"Who won?" Nina calls over as they make their way over to us.

I turn in their direction "I did!"

"Yes, well done Ellie! I won too!" Nina hand slaps against mine as we high five.

"We have a cocktail making at home Ellie I found some alcohol free cocktail recipes for you," she pulls me along with her towards the car.

~*~*~*~

"Ellie, I am not drinking that!" he pushes the glass back towards me.

"Oh, come on I made it especially for you. and I'm asking you to. You have to say yes"

"But it looks like vomit! What is it?"

I push it back towards him "It raspberry mojito. The floaty bits in there are raspberries I crushed as we didn't have raspberry puree. Now drink"

He rolls his eyes "Fine" he takes a sip "It's not to bad actually"

"Told you! Now let me make you a blue lagoon!" 

"Be careful Adam it looks like she's trying to get you drunk to have her wicked way with you" Nina is very tipsy.

"Nina!!" Al laughs.

"Hate to tell you but she doesn't need to get me drunk for that!" he winks at me.

"Adam!!" I blush, I end up making a jug for the 3 of them then another.

Nina is giggling to herself "What's so funny mum?"

"In the toilet I noticed something stick your tongue out" Al and Adam pokes their tongues out she laughs harder.

I'm so confused "What's so funny Nina?"

"Our tongues are blue. We look like we've given a Smurf a blowjob!" She howls, I snort with laughter.

"OK Nina, I think it's time we got you to bed!" Al starts lifting her up from her seat.

"Ooo Al are you taking me to bed?" she says with a flirty tone.

"Mum!"

"Oh come on Adam like you two haven't been at it like rabbits since you got here" Nina giggles.

"Nina, lets get you to bed" Al leads her towards the stairs. "Night guys" Al calls over his shoulders as he's ushering Nina up the stairs.

"Your mum is hilarious when she's drunk" I wrap my arms around his neck as he's sat on the bar stool.

"It's funny when it isn't your parents! But she is right about being at it like rabbits" he picks me up and pulls me onto his lap wrapping my legs around him.

I feel his beard tickles my neck followed by his lip "Not here Adam"

"They won't be back down" 

"Take me to bed"

He sighs pulling away to look at me "Yes beautiful"

~*~*~*~

M!MC POV

"Rob I'm just going to grab some lunch I'll see you in an hour"

"OK, mate" He calls back from the office. As I walk pass Bridezillas I spot it (I wonder if you can see it from the office?) I walk back to the office and you can still see it but just about!

I make my way back over to Bridezillas "Adam, Ellie isn't here today she's meeting with a supplier"

"Yeah, I know. Jess that CCTV on the corner is that Bridezillas?"

"Oh, what the one at the front of the alley? Yeah Ellie had them putting a few weeks after she moved in there one covering the entrance and there is another down the alley"

"Can I take a look at the footage?"

"Yeah of course" she does something on the laptop then hands it to me.

I take it to Ellie's office, I look through the video clips until I find the day it happened.

12.50 PM

I watch Laura walk through the door of the office in the top left corner.

1.03 PM

I see Ellie do the same.

1.08 PM

Laura leaves in a rush.

1.10 PM

Rob walks into the office.

1.19 PM

I watch myself arrive.

1.22 PM

The ambulance arrive.

"GOTCHA!" I send the clip to my email and save a copy onto the USB I have on my keys before closing down the program and handling the laptop back to Jess. "Quick question, have the police been in touch to look at the CCTV?"

"Erm..no they haven't, but to be honest its for the flat entrance not the shop so we kinda forget it's there"

"OK, thanks" I leave the shop and send a text.

[Meet me at the cafe in 10 minutes!]

I sit out the front of the cafe waiting with a coffee, I don't know what I spot first her pixie cut or the smell of her cheap perfume. "Adam, I was surprised to hear from you, have you've realized what a liar your wife is!" My blood boils (Keep calm) "You didn't get me a coffee?"

"I'll warn you once do not talk about my wife like that! Why would I get you a coffee?"

"OK, I see she still has her crawls firmly in you. What is it you want?" she hiss hurt.

"You to leave Manchester for good"

She cackles "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because if you don't, not only will you go down and you'll drag your mum with you. How do you think a 65 year old woman will survive in prison?" she looks at me confused "Giving a false alibi is a criminal offence"

"Still trying to pin Ellie's fall on me? Guess what! I wasn't there when it happened"

"But you had an appointment at five to one?"

"I did, but I was late by the time I got there, there was an ambulance there"

"I have proof to prove otherwise" I load up the CCTV footage as it's playing her face goes pale.

"Where did you get that?"

"My pregnant wife forgot about the CCTV she had installed. I guess she didn't realize it covers my office door"

Her face turns to fury "Why haven't you taken it to the police?"

"Well, we tried to do it the right way, and they let you go. Plus, if I take it to the police you'll get anything from 3 to 7 years but I want you out of our lives for good"

"So I'm suppose to up and leave because you say so?"

"No, but if you don't this goes to the police. Both you and your mum will go down"

"Then I'll tell them about this conversation and how you tried to blackmail me to leave"

I laugh, "I have no idea what she's talking about officer, I simply brought her to the cafe to ask her to say away from me and my wife, I knew nothing about the CCTV footage until my wife sent it me via email asking if it were enough evidence to prove she had attacked her. You see the thing about the police once you lie they don't trust a word you say after that"

"How can I trust you won't go to the police even if I do leave?"

"You don't! You just have to believe the fact I want you out of our lives forever is motive enough not to"

"But what if I need to come back for a family emergency?"

"Not my problem, but if you do step foot back here for any reason this goes straight to the police"

"Fine, I'll be gone by the end of the week" she hisses.

"No! Tonight!"

"But I can't just up and leave. Not with just a few hours notice"

"I couldn't care less. Tonight or tomorrow you'll get taken away in cuffs" I stand to leave, I bend down and lean in close enough so only she can hear "Your choice!" I hear my phone as I leave.

*1 New Message from Beautiful*

[Hey can you meet me at the house? x]

[Hi, yep see you in a few. Hope everything is ok? xx]

I head home once inside I see Ellie on the sofa "Hey beautiful, What's up?"

She looks up at me with a blank stare "I saw you," she doesn't look at me, her words are almost a whisper.

"Saw me?"

She huffs "I saw you with her outside the cafe. Why were you with her?"

"It's not what it looks like I promise. I wanted to keep you out of this, but we promised no secrets. Ellie I've sorted it she won't be bothering us anymore"

"What? How?"

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 11

@lem-20​ @khoicesbyk​ @aussieez​ @txemrn​ @irisofpurple​ @shewillreadyou​

[smolbeandrabbles]

Everybody Gonna Talk - Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader (Animal Kingdom)

GIF Credit: X

Author’s Note: ‘Scene’s We’d Like To See’ idea by Ms.@mandy23b​ - Sorry sweetie, I kinda twisted the idea a little so it’s not exactly as requested - but I hope you’ll forgive me!

Thank you for requesting 😘❤

Everybody Gonna Talk - Carly Pearce  Disclaimer: Animal Kingdom characters not mine / Idea not mine / gifs not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: PDA is not Andrew’s strong point, this you know for certain. But every so often, even Andrew Cody can’t help wanting you... 

Words: 3589

Warnings: Swearing

__________ You got the bad, I got the honey Got the whole town putting their money on you Breaking my heart and running, You got the goods, know how flaunt it Whatever you're doing is making me want it Baby, I'm falling If they got the time, we got the business If they can't stay on their side of the fence then, oh Let's give 'em a show now, whoa Kiss me underneath the streetlight glow Make sure they got a good view through them windows And watch the word get around Hey, people always gonna say anything they wanna say They don't know your touch could start a riot Be anywhere you wanna be, just as long as you're with me Ain't no need for us to keep this quiet Everybody gonna talk Everybody gonna talk anyways Just give me all you got No, don't you ever stop People always gonna talk Go ahead and let 'em talk Let 'em talk ---

The phone on the table beeped, to alert its owner to a text. It was just a burner phone, like all the rest had been – but there was one consistent number that showed up in all of them. Two, now. Andrew Cody corrected himself as he wandered across the room to it, picking it up slowly. Considering that the first number was Baz’s, and he was sitting in this room – the person on the other end of that text could only have been you. “What’s up Pope?” Andrew stared at the mobile for a moment before putting it down again, stifling a smile. He didn’t answer his brother, and Craig muttered something from the couch. Which Andrew also didn’t hear, heading outside. Darren, Jay, Craig and Baz all gave each other the same look – but the youngest three were the ones who scrambled upstairs fastest. What the hell could be going on? Andrew wandered around the side of the house cautiously, looking this way and that. No car and no person escaped the dart of his eyes – these days the police could be anywhere, and everything was unmarked. And he wasn’t just risking this, but risking you. And only when he thought it was safe, did he proceed down the road. His walk was slow, as if he was doing nothing more than passing the time of day – a leisurely stroll that just about anyone could be on. In the hope that maybe to other people he was exactly that – just anyone. Until he rounded the corner. You were sitting on the hood of your car, swinging your legs gently – smile on your face. “Hey stranger!” His lips twitched but he didn’t quite smile; “What are you doing here?” “Well I figured if you weren’t going to let me meet your family, I’d take matters into my own hands!” His eyes shifted from you again, down both streets, and along the parked cars. You’d already done all these checks – but Andrew could never be too careful. There wasn’t a soul in sight on this summer afternoon apart from the two of you, and yet he still had to confirm that for himself. “That’s never going to be a good idea.” You gave a shrug; “You gonna stop me?” Though you had no doubt it would be easy for him. “Here is close enough.” Andrew stopped that lazy walk of his just in front of you, legs brushing yours; “For now.” “I really don’t see what you’re hiding this for.” “When you meet them, I think you’ll understand perfectly.” He placed his hands either side of you, leaning in. You had to arch your body back a little to keep your eyes on his. His stare was always intense and haunting; even when it was gentle – dare you say loving – it saw right through you. You didn’t have secrets between you, you didn’t see how it was plausible to keep anything from a man like this. But then you were the secret, so there was that. Eventually you stopped leaning, smile almost teasing; “But I have to meet them first.” His body remained close to yours, and your tease didn’t make him pull away; “Don’t expect it any time soon.” You supposed that would mean suggesting something else, considering you’d driven all the way up here; “…So you want to take my car around the block?” His blink was slow, and his face scrunched a little, in what could only be described as confusion. But you supposed he really meant ‘now, why would that be a good idea?!’ There was something nearly electric about the buzz of his body this close to yours. Andrew wasn’t as emotionless as he looked – at least not behind closed doors. It had taken you a little while, but no holds barred intimacy - where you literally bared and gave each other everything – proved this man could feel nearly anything. And with him not even inches from you now – foreheads almost touching, all you could think about was the feel of his skin against yours – and it was driving you wild. “Heck – or we could just make out here?” The chuckle came out as more of an exhale, but it was Andrew Cody that was confident enough to initiate the kiss. And you tangled your hands in his hair as he lay you back against your car. “Who the hell is that-!?” Craig was nearly at full volume as the three of them peered out of the window (open window no less, considering the outside temperature) – crowding around for the best view. “SHHHH!!! They’ll hear us-!” Baz almost rolled his eyes as he also ascended the stairs; “What are you doing-!?” “Yo! Baz, you’ll know, does Pope have a girlfriend-!?” “What are you…?” Of course Baz was about the only one that knew you existed, but he hadn’t actually met you yet, and he was curious. Peaking around the window frame he indeed was faced with the scene of a woman sitting on a car talking to Andrew; that must have been you, just by how close he was getting. And you weren’t afraid of him – Baz could tell by your body language. In fact, anything but, you wanted him closer. It was when Andrew leant in to kiss you that the other three almost started screaming. Which attracted the unwanted attention of Smurf. “What on earth is going ON up there-!?” “Pope’s got a fucking girlfriend!!!” Craig cackled disbelievingly, making Baz give him a shove; “Well if you can get one Craig, I’m sure anyone can!” “Yeah – but POPE!?” “What!?” Smurf, who of course wanted to know exactly what they were all hollering about, pushed through them, to watch her eldest making out with a woman on the hood of a car. Baz very nearly cringed at the look that began to set in on her face, because livid didn’t even cover it. But, being Andrew’s best friend – and wanting to significantly lighten the mood… knowing if everyone was on side, the argument now bound to happen wouldn’t be so bad as expected - Baz wanted to take this into his own hands, and encouragingly whistled; Craig joined in “DAMN MAN! GET IT!” Andrew couldn’t have pulled away any faster if he’d have tried; hissing. “Fuck!” You wanted to laugh, but as usual he’d made you breathless. His blue eyes were wide, and he tilted his head away from the house, scowling at the tarmac instead, this time voice a little louder - “Fuck!” You sat up, and pulled him back to you; placing a kiss to his forehead and temple, before catching his lips to catch him of guard; “Don’t worry baby, I’m sure nothing like this ever goes as planned.” And you didn’t let him protest that. Pulling him even closer to you than he was before. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smirk against his lips as the cheering intensified. And if you pissed some people off in the meantime, so be it. *** It was always obvious to you that Andrew was not a PDA guy. He never would be, and that was always fine with you. His occasional touches, the way he would brush his hand over your shoulders, or accidently link his fingers with yours for five seconds when you walked together, grazing his cheek against yours – occasionally it’d be his lips and your heart would virtually skip - sometimes it would be the proximity within which he stood. Comfortable with you in his space – or protecting you by being in yours. Because Andrew had to know you were safe, it was about the only thing he really cared about. Or, his personal favourite, which was what he was doing this morning, just staring at you. You wondered how many could handle that. Sometimes it made you nervous, sometimes it made you smile so much your cheeks hurt. You wondered what it was; if he just liked watching you, if he was curious, if he was trying to figure you all out in his mind. All three? You’d reckon so. Sometimes you liked helping Smurf out in the kitchen, you weren’t sure how much she enjoyed this, but you decided that if you were helpful and sweet and gave her no reason to hate you (besides stealing Andrew – and she made enough jabs to let you know you were certainly stealing him) then it was on her. And by this point all the boys loved you; so she wasn’t about to get rid of you easily either. You thought she might never say it, but sometimes you thought she was happy to have another girl around – because it wasn’t like Baz and Cath lived here. So with everyone already gathered around the kitchen table, you were finishing up, smiling at their ridiculous morning chatter, when Andrew appeared. He stood at the far end of the kitchen counter, observant as ever. Those blue eyes never missed anything. It was a couple of minutes before he moved, slow steps down the counter – you’d already noticed him, but turned like you hadn’t. He made a motion with his hand to enquire whether or not you would like a drink, and you smiled gently with a nod. Again, the movement of his mouth wasn’t a smile, but it was something – and he brushed his arm across your back as he passed you, fingertips grazing across your waistline and making you bite your lip. You turned, and watched him pour you and himself a glass before he returned to you. Stopping just short of being too in your personal space, before sliding the glass to you. “Thank you.” He nodded, leaning against the counter, head tipping again. “What?” Although by the way Andrew’s hand moved across the surface and took yours, fingers overlapping one at a time, before he laced them together, you knew the answer to your question. His other hand reached out, tucking back stray strands of hair. He noticed it was something you did when he watched you often, whether a cute habit or nervous tick, but he sometimes liked doing it himself. You waited for him to come to you, and he did, slowly. There were mere inches between you, but Andrew made it feel like miles, before his lips touched yours. Everyone else was too involved in their conversations; as your grip on his hand tightened, your other hand winding around his waist to pull him closer. Eyes closed, he had the same idea, drawing you to him. The chatter ground to a halt, starting with Craig – who shut everyone else up. And soon cutlery was clattering to the floor or the table. Andrew!? PDA!?.... ANDREW!? They all turned to each other, as Andrew unlinked your hands to wind his other arm around you, to check everyone else was also seeing this. The kiss didn’t break, and he was the one to initiate the pressure changes, soft to rough and back again, how deep he wanted to go – you’d let Andrew break it too. And usually he did – then he’d pull away as if nothing happened. That’s the way he was. But when his lips were on yours, like this, you savoured every second of it – you wanted him closer, you wanted him so close that you didn’t know where you ended and he begun anymore. Though – preferably not in the kitchen of his mother’s house. And Andrew wasn’t that kind of man. Which only made you yearn for it more. “What the hell-!?!” Was the cry you heard from the table, but you didn’t bother paying attention to it. All that was running through your head was ‘Hell YES this is happening – and you’re gonna sit down, shut up and fucking witness it!’ Which came across as the smug smirk on your face. But it didn’t stop Andrew from kissing you. And you were proud of him for that. Smurf was probably sitting there freaking out once again but you also didn’t care about that. Liking or hating you was her decision. But Andrew was yours, and you were his. You moved your hand from the counter, raising it to them with a middle finger – directed as Craig specifically. Which raised a clamour from the table that you were satisfied with. This was thrilling and fast going to your head, and Andrew caught that – breaking from your lips, he kept his eyes on you – placing his forehead to yours. You closed your eyes once more, linking all your fingers with his. Sometimes, even this man could make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. How many others could there possibly have been?

You reckoned you already knew the answer to that. You. Only you. *** Months Later…

 He was still asleep when you woke. Andrew’s sleep was usually broken by strange dreams, so if he was sleeping soundly or sleeping straight, you liked leaving him to it. God knows he needed it. You pressed a gentle kiss into his bare shoulder and left the bed – gathering your clothes and wandering on through into the bathroom. The house was quiet – but already opened up, light and airy meant someone was up. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was Smurf, you knew she didn’t exactly like the sway you had over her oldest, because it broke her hold on him, but she tolerated you – maybe had even secretly warmed to you. And for now, you’d take it. Besides, you’d been on her bad side enough to know that Andrew would defend you if necessary. You showered quickly, singing quietly to yourself, and dressed in a soft vest top and shorts. You’d seen the weather earlier, and it was going to get hot. Maybe you’d get to chill with him on the back patio today… maybe you’d all have a barbeque - you’d like that. Something quiet and peaceful, things like that were rare in this family. You were just finishing up in the mirror, letting your hair airdry, when the door creaked open. That was another thing about getting up before all the boys in this house; that lock was damn faulty. Not that the man behind the door really gave a damn about things like that, whether that be you or any of his brothers. Andrew blinked against the light, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. And making you wonder why he’d even bothered to get up yet. “Mornin’ babe.” “Mornin’.” His return of your greeting was groggy and he rubbed his eyes, pushing the door closed with his foot. “Did you sleep well?” Though awake he didn’t look like it “Mhm.” He shrugged, walking forward to place his head on your shoulder. You were happy enough to receive any kind of affection from him, and you ran a hand through his hair; “Honey, why did you wake up?” “Can’t sleep.” can’t go back to sleep more like. But then he pulled back, head tipped, look inquisitive “…Were you singing?” You very nearly blushed, “I was.” “…I was listening.” He kept staring at you like he was going to continue the sentence, but he didn’t. Not quite all the way to a compliment, but the sentiment was there. “Thank you.” You said it anyway, kissing his cheek. His face was scratchy against your clean, smooth skin – making your rub your cheek as you pulled back. But Andrew didn’t let you pull very far – you smelt clean, like your brand of body spray, but like all his shower products too. You smelt like him, like his things, and that did make him smile – which only made you smile to see one on his face. Before you giggled; “You need a shave!” “Oh? Yeah?” “Mhm!” You turned back to the sink, running the tap – and then rifling through the medicine cupboard for his razor. “Mm.” Andrew repeated the sound you had made, as if he’d just remembered something. He reached into the cupboard himself, for a little orange bottle clearly marked Andrew Cody - you raised a curious eyebrow as you watched him unscrew the cap and then dry swallow one, but said nothing else. It was like proving he’d done it and he felt better to do it with you. All you did was give him a gentle nudge of appreciation as you shut the tap off, but he knew exactly what that meant. “Alright…” You sat up on the bathroom sink, tipping your head to him, and tugging him a little closer to you; “Come here and I’ll sort this mess…” “This mess!?” To be honest he didn’t look too bad, but if you got to tease him and he was going to respond to you positively, then of course you were going to say something like that. This was the Andrew you knew, playful wasn’t the right word – but he was reaching for it. He was so close, and trying. You didn’t mind what Andrew was, as long as he was trying. He placed his hands on the side of the sink and leant forward, blue eyes still calculating – still trying to figure out what exactly was in your head. You ran a hand through his hair, with a little nod, biting your lips together. Andrew closed his eyes to the feeling for a moment – letting it run through him – he wasn’t so much touch starved as unaccustomed to having someone like you touch him. Affection still played out like a foreign term to him, and it certainly did to the rest of his family they still watched the two of you together like it was a mirage. But then there was you. And there was something even Andrew Cody couldn’t explain about you. You made him hold still as you evenly distributed shaving cream over his face, allowing him to once again savour the feeling of your fingertips over his skin. He’d never admit that out loud. He would certainly never ever act like this in front of anyone else – possibly not even Baz. But when you were alone together – you didn’t dare say he was a different person - but for a moment you were sometimes able to forget what he did for a living, and that the word psychopath was sometimes a little too liberally floated around. You took a deep breath, and Andrew went from subdued to completely motionless as you took a razor to his face; “Look I know some out there would like to take a blade to my throat, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do the job for them.” You very nearly laughed; “Was that humour, Mr.Cody?” “No.” And you thought that was pretty true. The razor moved smoothly over his skin, and with a little help from the warm water you had him nearly done. Except he decided to tip his head to look in the mirror and judge that for himself; “No! Don’t move, I’m going to cut you! Keep still…!” Then he did smile, nearly a smirk; “Shouldn’t let you near me with sharp objects if you have that little faith in yourself.” “Carful or I’ll do the job for them.” “You’ll probably do it better. At least you know what you’re doing. Just make it a quick cut.” Then he squinted slightly, “Could be a bit messy. And my mother would never forgive you.” “Ooh- Cold! I don’t think she forgive me anyway.” “You’re growing on her.” You grimaced, thinking that wasn’t what you’d call it, and retrieved a towel to dry his face. You stared at each other for a moment longer, and you placed your forehead to his; “Andrew, I love you.” You didn’t expect an answer, you hadn’t ever been given one yet. Maybe he’d never tell you those three words – but Andrew had his own way of doing so. He closed his eyes again, pushing his head a little firmer against yours, hands slid up your arms to frame your face. Then he leant in, lips to yours – and softly. That only made you pull him closer to you, arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. You weren’t about to let this moment go to waste; but Andrew had the same idea. He let you deepen the kiss; slow and gentle, but needy. The kind of make out session that would usually lead elsewhere, hands tangled in each other’s hair – but right now you were sitting on the edge of a sink. And the moment may well have passed. Andrew pulled your body flush to his; kiss becoming fervent, passionate – the kind that was going to leave you short of breath. Darren didn’t get the memo, and the bathroom door swung open again. You broke apart – facial expressions varying levels of annoyed. Darren didn’t fancy his chances with either – covering his face “OH, SHIT! THIS AGAIN-!?!” Andrew’s face was suddenly back to what you were used to around his family, that vacant coldness that scared nearly everyone. His hands had dropped to your sides, but he hadn’t left you. “You wanna get the fuck out.” “Y-Yeah-!” Darren backed away and took off down the corridor, only making Andrew sigh angrily; “Close the FUCKING DOOR why don’t ya-!?” You stifled a laugh as he sighed angrily. “Good morning Cody household.” Andrew huffed, picking you up off the sink, - not willing to share you with anyone just yet - and carrying you back towards his bedroom, which had you internally ecstatic; “Not on my watch.”

---

@menndelsohn​ @3134045126​​ @happyskywhale​ @wltz-bby​ #MendoTagSquad

[spn-safeandsound]

01. The Beginning

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x01; Pilot

Word Count: 10,001

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, dirty thoughts

Author’s Note: Here is the first chapter of my Supernatural rewrite! I hope you like Julia! Just know that more of her personality is shown the further we go along. Let me know what you think. Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

Throwing the damp motel towel on the dresser, Dean wandered over to the bed he didn't plan on using to zip open his duffel of clothes. He quickly pulled on one of the last clean pairs of jeans he had and a black t-shirt that he sniffed to make sure didn't stink. He had only managed to slip the necklace Sam gave him years ago over his head when there was a knock at the door.

Dean paused, narrowing his eyes over at the door covered in chipped red paint. He had just paid for the room and didn't plan on staying more than a couple of hours. He didn't think that gave anyone much time to know that he was in town. Besides, the only two people he knew in Palo Alto didn't even know he was there.

He grabbed his gun and held it cautiously behind his back, peeking through the peephole. He didn't see much, just the top of a girl's head. And then the girl stepped onto her tip toes and waved at him, knowing that he was watching her.

"Trick or treat!"

Dean pressed his lips together and set his gun back down on the table. He opened the door and set his unimpressed expression on the younger woman, who smiled sweetly at him.

"What are you doing here, Julia?"

Julia Petersen didn't drop her smile as she slipped past him into the motel room. Dean rolled his eyes, already exasperated with her, and shut the door. He looked her up and down as she paced around the room, studying the furniture with a curious gaze.

She was dressed in a black t-shirt with a ridiculous cartoon ghost on it and khaki shorts that made her legs seem longer than they actually looked. When she turned toward the bathroom, he got a look at her ass and almost groaned before controlling himself.

This is Julia, he reminded himself, cute little Julia who is six fucking years younger than you.

"Julia."

"Right," Julia shook her head to focus and turned back to Dean. "I was looking for some candy but I guess someone's not in the mood for Halloween."

"Halloween's stupid."

"Yeah, I know," Julia rolled her eyes and wandered over to his duffle bag. "All you Winchesters are the same."

"Woah, hey," Dean rushed toward her and pulled her hands away from his clothes. "Keep your hands to yourself, Junior."

"Sorry, I forgot about the weird boundaries you have," Julia gave him an innocent smile and sat on the bed.

"They're not weird. Everyone has them."

"Not me."

"That's cause you're crazy," Dean playfully snapped at her

"That's true," she conceded. "Uh, what was your question again?"

Dean sighed impatiently. It had been almost a year since he had seen Julia and he was already getting annoyed with her. He wouldn't say that she was annoying all the time but she was a kid. A kid who never stopped talking, was always distracted, and the human embodiment of sunshine.

"What are you doing here," he repeated. "and how the hell did you find me?"

"Oh, I tracked your phone," Julia informed him. "and I'm here because Dad left me a message to find you."

"Luke told you to find me?" Dean asked thoughtfully.

If Luke had asked his youngest daughter to find Dean, he probably knew about his dad being missing. Why else would he want Julia to find him? She was already with Sam so it wasn't like she needed protection.

"Yup."

"Well, what'd he say?"

"He said that John was missing and that you needed my help to find him," Julia informed him, scratching her cheek nervously. He caught her tell, having experience from over the years.

"You're lying," he pointed out; she pouted. "Seriously, Julia. Come on."

"I'm not lying about that," Julia stated honestly. "but...I did kind of have a bad feeling."

"What kind of bad feeling? Like you ate something bad for lunch or you forgot to do your taxes?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

Julia's smile slipped from her face. "The kind of feeling where I knew I needed to find you. My dad's message just confirmed it."

Dean appraised her, pressing his lips together. When she was growing up, Julia had bad feelings all the time. There was one time that she knew that her older sister, Beth, had broken her arm and when he used to indulge Sam and Julia and play hide and seek with them, she would find him every time without fail. It was common knowledge that she had some kind of sixth sense but no one really talked about it.

"Okay," he accepted her answer. "Is that it?"

"That's it," Julia nodded, a smile back on her face. "What time were you going to talk to Sam? I wouldn't wait long because we're going out tonight. Well, maybe it would be best if you waited to talk to him until after he was drunk. He might be more likely to hear you out. It's gonna be hard to convince him to go with us but—"

"Hold your horses, Junior," Dean cut her off. "I already had a plan."

"And that is?"

"Private."

Julia fixed him with an unimpressed stare. "If you break into my apartment I'm gonna kill you."

"I won't break into your apartment," Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not a heathen."

Julia hummed, giving him a doubtful look.

"Okay, anything else you needed?" Dean sighed.

"Nope," Julia jumped up from the bed walked toward the door. "I'll be packed and ready by the time you come to get us."

"Sure thing," Dean nodded sarcastically. "Now leave."

"Oh, one more thing—"

"Nope. Bye," Dean gently pushed her out of the room and shut the door before she could finish what she was going to say.

"Dean!"

-

-

Julia heard the crash out in the living room and sighed, shaking her head as she finished shoving a pair of boots into one of her duffle bags. She had warned Dean not to break into the apartment and he had said he wouldn't but he lied to her face. She had to start getting better at detecting lies, especially if she was gonna be trained to be a hunter.

She was actually excited to go on the road with Dean. She had wanted to be a hunter for a long time. It had been years and her father still hadn't trained her like he trained her older sister, Abby. He had told her to get an education, which she did, and then they'd see. Well, it was now that time and she was itching to learn everything.

Her family had always been in the business of hunting supernatural creatures. Her father's side, the Alexanders, was a well-known family in the world of the supernatural as they had a special talent for getting rid of demons. Her mother's side of the family—the Petersens—were famous, too, though not for the same reason.

Her mother's family owned Petersen Sports Co., a sports store that catered to regular citizens who needed soccer balls and football pads but also to hunters who needed salt rounds, holy water, and all the guns and knives they could buy. The secret hunter part of the store also provided ways to get ahold of other hunters and provided lawyers in case something went south during a hunt. It was a family business, with her older brother Levi as head of sales, Beth and her husband—Taylor—as lawyers for the company, and her Aunt Maggie as CEO.

Either way, she was a bit of a legacy. And, since Abby was the only child out of the four who had gone into the hunting business so far, Julia had to step up.

Julia finished packing by setting her backpack on top of her other bags and left the room. As soon as she entered the hallway, she ran into Jess, Sam's girlfriend and one of her closest friends.

"Jules, I think Sam's fighting off a robber," Jess said hurriedly, cheeks flushed. "Should we call the police?"

"No, no, it's fine," Julia hurried to assure her. "Sam and I were expecting someone."

"At one in the morning?"

"...Yes," Julia laughed awkwardly. "Come on, I'll show you."

Jess nodded and by the time they entered the living room, the fighting between Sam and Dean had stopped. Julia flipped on the lights in the living room, illuminating the Winchester brothers so she and Jess could see them clearly.

"Sam?" Jess called her boyfriend's name, looking wearily between him and his older brother.

"Jess, hey," Sam sighed and introduced her to Dean. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

"Wait," Jess paused, giving Julia a curious look; Julia nodded. "your brother, Dean?"

Dean grinned sleazily at her, his eyes flitting up and down Jess' model figure. She wasn't dressed the most modestly but it was nighttime and Julia's usual pajamas showed just as much skin.

"I love the Smurfs," Dean complimented her, gesturing to the low-cut top Jess was wearing. "You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league."

Julia rolled her eyes while Jess gave him an unimpressed smile. "Just let me put something on."

"No, no, I wouldn't dream of it," Dean shook his head coyly. "Seriously."

"Dean, stop being a creep," Julia sighed, smirking at the annoyed look he sent her.

"Mind your own, Junior," he snarked at her and then addressed Jess again. "Anyway, I've gotta borrow my brother and this dwarf here—" Julia scoffed in offense. "—to talk about some private family business. Nice meeting you."

"No," Sam objected, walking over to Jess' other side, wrapping an arm around her. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

Dean looked over to Julia and she shrugged, giving him the choice of whether or not he would divulge what was going on. He must have decided that he would just tell Sam anyway because he gave in.

"Okay," he nodded. "Um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So, he's working overtime on a Miller-Time shift," Sam shrugged, not worried about his estranged father. "He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean pressed his lips together and looked at his feet for a brief second before looking back at Sam. "Dad's on a hunting trip," he elaborated. "and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam's face went blank like it usually did when Julia brought up their families and what they did for a living.

"Jess, excuse us."

-

"What did Dean mean by his dad being on a hunting trip?" Jess asked as Julia tied her hair up in a messy bun and packed her toiletries that she had almost forgotten. "Sam seemed pretty upset about it."

"Well, John Winchester had always been a fan of hunting," Julia sighed, scratching her cheek. "Big game, as far as I know. Usually he gets drunk and passes out for a few days before heading back home."

Jess made an indignant noise. "Charming."

"Yeah, no kidding," Julia agreed, giving her an amused smile. "That's John, all right."

"Poor Sam," Jess sighed as they moved back to Julia's room; Julia made a noise of agreement. "So, why do you have to go with them again?"

"My dad called earlier and asked me to," Julia informed her. "I found Dean earlier today and it seems like he's really concerned."

"Well, how long are you gonna be gone?" Jess' eyes scoured over Julia's two duffle bags and backpack. "You're packed for a long time."

"I'll be back by Christmas," she assured the blonde. "and Sam will be home in time to make his interview. I'll make sure of it."

Jessica sighed heavily but nodded, knowing that Sam would probably give in and go with his brother and Julia for the weekend.

"Just be safe, okay?" she requested. "For me?"

"Course I will," Julia gave her a quick hug and grabbed one of her duffle bags, along with her backpack. "I'll send Sam up, okay?"

"Okay," Jess nodded. "Bye, Jules."

"See you later, Jess."

Julia left the apartment and made her way down the stairs, through the gate, and to the parking lot where she assumed Dean parked. She spotted the two giants across the lot and quickly approached them just as Dean was convincing Sam to listen about the case John was hunting.

Dean nodded at her in greeting and grabbed her bag, dropping it onto the concrete before unlocking his trunk. He pulled up the flap that hid the weapons underneath and began rummaging through the various guns, spell ingredients, knives, and other things necessary for hunting.

"Where the fuck did I put that thing?" Dean mumbled, looking for something.

Julia and Sam exchanged a pointed look, knowing that Dean was a slob for the most part, and waited patiently for Dean to grab whatever he was looking for.

"So, when your dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Julia asked him curiously.

"I was working my own gig," Dean answered. "Some voodoo thing down in New Orleans."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"

Dean gave him a pointed look. "I'm twenty-six, dude," he located a manila folder and pulled it out of the trunk, grabbing some papers that he had printed off. "All right, here we go. So, Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California."

"About a month ago, this guy went missing," he continued, handing some of the articles to Sam and the rest to Julia. "They found his car but he vanished, completely M.I.A.."

Sam scanned the article on top of his pile. "So maybe he was kidnapped."

"This article is from April," Julia spoke up, showing Sam the articles she had been going through. "And this one is from December of '04."

"There's one for '03, '98, '92," Dean added. "ten of them over the past twenty years. All men, all same five mile stretch of road. It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough, but," he pulled a recording device out of the trunk. "then I get this voicemail yesterday."

He pressed play and John Winchester's voice came out of the small speaker. "Dean...something big is starting to happen.  I think it's serious. I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may...Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger."

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam looked to Dean.

Dean smiled, pleased. "Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?"

Sam shook his head while Julia chuckled.

"All right, I slowed the message down, ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got..." he pressed play again.

It was a woman's voice this time. "I can never go home."

Julia shivered at the creepy voice while Dean looked at Sam expectantly.

"Never go home," Sam repeated thoughtfully.

Dean nodded and set the recording device back into the trunk, along with the articles he had collected. He threw Julia's bag in, shut the trunk, and leaned on it, giving Sam his version of a guilt trip and puppy-dog eyes.

"You know, in almost two years, I've never bothered you or asked you for a thing."

Sam sighed, quickly giving in. "All right, I'll go. I'll help you find him."

Dean smiled happily.

"But I have to get back first thing Monday," Sam informed him, turning away to walk back to his apartment. "Just wait here."

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean called after him

"I have an interview," Sam told him.

"What, a job interview?" Dean shrugged. "Skip it."

"It's a law school interview," Sam said proudly. "and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Julia saw that Dean looked a little impressed.

Sam nodded. "So, we got a deal or not?"

Dean didn't say anything but Sam got the gist that he agreed with him. Julia told him to bring down her last bag as he ran off to the apartment stairs, getting a wave of confirmation in return.

"How many damn bags do you need, anyway?" Dean asked Julia as she turned toward him with a happy smile.

"Three," she told him simply. "Clothes, shoes, toiletries, books, schoolwork, computer."

"Jesus Christ," Dean sighed as he stood from his position against the Impala's trunk and started walking to the driver's seat. "You're in the back, shortcake."

Julia grumbled, already annoyed with the short jokes, and slipped into the backseat. She pulled her pillow into her chest and snuggled into it, getting ready for the long drive to Jericho.

-

The breeze was cool and welcoming as they stopped at a gas station, just outside of Jericho, California. It was still early in the morning, around seven, but all three of them were already up. Dean was inside, getting some things to eat and drink while Sam went through Dean's cassette collection and Julia read through her emails.

"Did you see these, J?" Sam asked her, sorting through the cardboard box the cassettes were kept in. "He's got cassettes. I don't think he's heard of a CD before."

"Uh, Dean doesn't like change, remember?" Julia shrugged. "It's not really surprising he has every old white man's collection of music."

Sam laughed and continued his search. Eventually, Dean came out of the gas station, carrying a plastic bag of goodies he had scored.

"Want breakfast?" he asked them as he started pumping gas.

"No, thanks," Sam mumbled.

"Oh, did you get the—?"

"Cherry cheese Danish and apple juice," Dean cut Julia off, slipping them through her open window.

"Thanks!" Julia immediately tore open the Danish, taking a large bite out of it.

"So, how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam asked cautiously. "You and Dad still running credit card scams."

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career," Dean excused himself, finishing with the gas. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah and what names did you write on the application this time?"

"Uh," Dean slipped into his seat. "Burt Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."

Sam scoffed. "Sounds about right," he shook his head. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?"

"Because they're cassette tapes," Julia spoke up, finished her breakfast with a sip of apple juice. "And then there's the music itself."

"Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica," Sam listed the tapes he had been through. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Ooh, good one," Julia giggled.

Dean gave them annoyed looks, not liking the fact that they were gaining up on him, and grabbed the Metallica tape from the box. "Well, house rules, Sammy," he put the tape in the stereo. "Driver picks the music, shotgun—and backseat—shut their cakeholes."

Julia rolled her eyes while Sam gave Dean an exasperated look.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," he reminded Dean as the tape started, not fond of his childhood nickname. "It's Sam, okay?"

"Sorry, I can't hear you!" Dean said loudly, a cheeky smile on his face. "The music's too loud!"

Julia laughed and leaned forward so her chin rested on the seat between the brothers. "Don't worry, Sam, you weren't chubby when you were twelve."

Sam gave her a flat look. "Thanks, J."

Julia winked at him and leaned back in her seat. While Dean drove closer to Jericho, Sam took the time to call the hospital and the morgue in town to see if there was anyone matching John's description. It was only when they were five miles out of town that he got off the phone.

"All right," he sighed. "so, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or the morgue. So, that's something, I guess."

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded. Julia shut her Bible, as she had started to reread Romans for her New Testament class, when they came upon the bridge that went into Jericho. There was what looked to be an abandoned car, a cop car ahead with its lights on, and a couple of police officers milling about.

"Check it out," Dean pointed the scene out to Sam and Julia.

He pulled to a stop at the side of the road and leaned over to the passenger side of the car, opening the glovebox and pulling out a box. The box contained numerous fake FBI badges with Dean and John's names on them; Dean picked a federal marshal badge out of the box and smirked at Sam and Julia.

"Let's go."

Julia didn't think that plaid and jeans—and in her case, a t-shirt and shorts—were the best clothing they could be wearing while they pretended that they were agents of the law. She didn't even have a badge, nor did Sam, and they were all kind of young to be federal marshals. Nevertheless, she got out of the car and followed Sam and Dean over to the police officers on the bridge.

"All right, first lesson," Dean quickly looked back at Julia. "Stay quiet and observe."

Julia fought the urge to roll her eyes and smiled brightly at him, acting like she was zipping her lips. Dean sighed heavily and continued on, giving Sam a pointed look that Julia caught but didn't react to.

As they got closer to the bridge, they saw that the officers had search and rescue down in the river, looking for the missing man.

"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints," one of the officers told his partner. "Spotless. It's almost too clean."

The other officer nodded. "So, this kid, Troy, he's dating your daughter, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"How's Amy doing?"

"She's putting up missing posters downtown," the first officer informed him, shaking his head.

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean announced their presence, raising his voice so the officers could hear him.

The second officer looked toward them, straightening up so he stood taller. "And who are you?"

Dean held up his badge and quickly closed it before the officer had a good look. "Federal marshals," he gestured between himself and Sam before pointing back at Julia. "Intern."

"You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?" the officer asked suspiciously.

Ha! Julia thought. I knew it.

Dean chuckled. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you," he walked over to the victim's car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right," the officer confirmed. "about a mile up the road. There have been others before that."

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asked him.

The officer nodded. "A town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Julia noticed Dean gesturing for her; she left Sam's side and walked around the car where he was standing. He pointed into the car, mumbling for her to take a look to see if she found anything.

She did as she was told, searching the front seats and dashboard of the car as best as she could while not touching anything. She didn't see anything particular; no blood, scratches in the leather, or dirt on the floorboards. Like the officer said, it was spotless.

"Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?" Dean spoke up.

"No, not as far as we can tell."

"So, what's the theory?" Sam wondered.

"Honestly, we don't know," the officer shrugged. "Serial murder, kidnapping ring..."

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys," Dean commented with a scoff. Julia looked over at him in shock while he winced, Sam having stomped painfully on his foot.

"Thank you for your time," Sam told the police officer with a gracious nod.

Julia hurried to his side as the three of them started walking hurrying off the bridge. Once they were a few feet away from the Impala, Dean took the opportunity to slap the back of Sam's head.

"Ow!" Sam hissed. "What was that for?"

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?" Dean retorted.

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam and stepped forward, cutting him and Julia off so they couldn't walk any further. "Come on, they don't really know what's going on," he stated. "We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

Julia's eyes swept past the brothers, wincing when she saw three older men walking toward them. She cleared her throat loudly, getting Dean and Sam's attention; Dean whipped around to face the men himself.

"Can I help you three?" the man who looked to be the sheriff asked them sternly.

"No, sir, we were just leaving," Julia shot them a dazzling smile. The sheriff almost melted in her presence while the FBI agents walked past Sam and Dean to go question the police themselves.

"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully," Dean nodded at the agents as he grabbed Julia's arm and pulled her past the sheriff; Sam followed them. "Nice work, shortcake."

"I have one of those smiles, I guess," Julia shrugged sheepishly as she slid into her seat.

Dean scoffed. "I guess you do."

-

-

Dean, Sam, and Julia walked through the town square, searching for the girl they overheard the police officers talk about. Amy was her name and she was the victim's girlfriend who was hanging missing posters up over town.

It wasn't hard to find the girl, especially in a town this small. The police officer had been telling the truth when he said that they knew everyone around here.

"I bet that's her," Dean pointed to a young brunette hanging up posters outside of a post office. They approached her carefully, trying not to scare her off. "You must be Amy."

Amy had to be only a couple years younger than Julia and around the same height. She was dressed in dark clothing and had dark make-up on like she was taking grieving to a whole other level.

"Yeah," the girl confirmed.

"Troy told us about you," Dean went with the easiest story he could come up with and introduced himself, Sam, and Julia. "We're his uncles—I'm Dean, this is Sammy—and our little sister, Julia."

Amy gave him a skeptical look and started walking away. "He never mentioned you."

Dean quickly followed her. "Yeah, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"So, we're looking for him, too," Sam took over; Amy stopped walking to look up at him. "and we're kinda asking around."

"Hey," a girl Amy's age walked up to her. "are you okay?"

"Yeah," Amy assured her.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam asked her politely.

It wasn't hard to say yes to Sam's puppy-dog eyes so Amy agreed to answer some questions for them. They settled at a nearby diner and on the walk over, Dean quietly answered some of the questions Julia had for him. He informed her about what kind of questions to ask people—like whether they noticed any cold spots or anything strange that occurred around them.

He had to admit, despite her ADHD, Julia was a quick learner. She soaked the information in like a sponge and it impressed him a little bit.

"I was on the phone with Troy," Amy informed them once she and her friend were settled at a table with Dean, Sam, and Julia. "He was driving home. He said he could call me right back and..." she hesitated sadly. "He never did."

"He didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam took over the questioning, seeming to have a better response than Dean did.

"No," Amy shook her head. "Nothing that I can remember."

"I like your necklace," Julia suddenly spoke up, pointing to the pentagram around Amy's neck.

Amy sadly smiled down at the charm. "Troy gave it to me," she sniffled and laughed a little. "Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff."

Julia grinned at her. "Actually, it means the opposite," she corrected her, recalling some of the information she had learned in one of her classes. "A pentagram is protection against evil. It's really powerful if you believe in that kind of thing."

Dean pursed his lips at her, unimpressed with her change of discussion. "Okay, thanks, Unsolved Mysteries," he snapped at her, earning a frown in return, before addressing the girls, "Here's the deal, ladies, the way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So, if you heard anything..."

Amy and her friend exchanged hesitant looks that Dean caught.

"What is it?"

"Well, it's just—" Amy's friend, Rachel, started. "I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean asked at the same time.

"It's kind of this local legend," Rachel sighed. "This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes and whoever picks her up—well, they disappear forever."

Dean and Sam exchanged knowing looks. Not all myths were based on fact, but most of them were. If there was a local legend around town, there had to be some truth to it—even if some of the details were blurred.

-

-

It was nighttime by the time Julia, Dean, and Sam headed back to the bridge on Centennial Highway. After getting some information at the library about the so-called hitchhiker the girl was talking about at the diner, they headed there to take a look around. The bridge was much spookier at night, especially once they found out about this mysterious hitchhiker.

The article they had found was about Constance Welch, who committed suicide at the bridge in the eighties. She took a dive into the river and drowned only an hour or so after both of her kids died in the bathtub. Her husband had said that she just couldn't handle her grief.

After Dean parked the impala on one side of the bridge, the three of them walked the length of it. Julia bit her lip nervously as she looked around, hoping that this spirit wouldn't just appear out of nowhere. Then again, she wanted the training, so some of her nerves were from anticipation.

"So," Dean walked over to the ledge of the bridge, looking down at the black river below. "this is where Constance took the swan dive."

Sam nodded and leaned against the railing beside him. "So, you think Dad would have been here?"

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

Julia wasn't assured by Dean's statement. "What now?"

"Now we keep digging until we find him," Dean informed her, his eyes darting toward Sam. "It might take a while."

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by—" Sam started to remind him but Dean cut him off with a nod.

"Monday," he recalled somewhat sourly. "Right, the interview."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot," Dean lied. "You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer and marry your girl?"

"Maybe," Sam shrugged. "Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you?" Dean started to goad him, irritated and a little jealous that Sam could leave hunting so easily. "I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

"No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy," Dean's tone was dripping with sarcasm. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

Dean turned and started walking away, knowing that he pushed his little brother's buttons. He was right; Sam started following him at an angry pace while Julia hovered nervously at the same spot by the railing. The conversation was none of her business and even though she was definitely going to eavesdrop, that didn't mean she was going to interrupt.

"And who's that?" Sam stomped after Dean.

"You're one of us."

"No," Sam's voice was sharp as he caught up with his brother, staring down at him with a glare. "I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

Dean paused to confront him. "You have a responsibility to—"

"To Dad and his crusade?" Sam scoffed. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like and what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone and she isn't coming back."

Dean lunged at Sam, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him against the railing on the other side of the bridge. Julia gasped softly and started to rush over, practically feeling the rage in Dean's veins.

"Dean!"

There was a long pause as Julia gently touched his elbow. Dean calmed down a little bit and quietly warned Sam, "Don't talk about her like that."

He roughly let go of Sam's collar and brushed off Julia's hand, turning to walk back to the Impala. He stopped in his tracks, seeing a woman dressed in a white dress standing on top of the railing of the bridge, her skirt blowing in the wind.

"Sam, Jules..."

Julia gawked at the woman as she looked over, made direct eye contact with both of the Winchesters, and jumped down into the river. Dean, Sam, and Julia took off running to where the woman jumped, hearing no splash and seeing no one down in the river.

"Where is she?" Julia asked loudly, her nerves wracked.

"I don't know," Sam shook his head, his eyes still searching the water below them.

The sound of an engine roaring caught their attention. Julia looked over, her eyes widening in horror when she saw that the Impala had started up with no help. She looked over at Dean in confusion, sincerely hoping that it was just a carjacker and not the spirit messing with them.

"What the fuck?"

'Who's driving your car?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean simply reached into his jeans and pulled out his car keys.

"Oh, no," Julia whimpered.

Whoever—or whatever—was in the Impala pressed on the gas. The car sped forward, going way too quickly, and started driving toward them. Sam grabbed Julia's arm and urged her to run as he and Dean took off running.

Julia ran sometimes when she had the time but that was nothing like running for your life. She had adrenaline pumping through her veins as she sped up to keep up with the brothers, almost overtaking Dean. The car was too fast, however, and they had to jump.

Dean vaulted over the railing and dove into the river. As Sam jumped, too, Julia ran behind him and, before she could even process what she was doing, grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.

Sam looked up at her in surprise as she grunted, half of her body practically hanging off the railing so she could keep him from dropping into the water below.

"Oh, my God, you're so heavy!"

Sam scrambled to reach up, grabbing the bottom of the railing so some of his weight was relieved from her. He easily climbed up with Julia's help; once he was back on his feet and Julia was wincing at the strain in her muscles, they looked into the river to see if Dean was okay.

"Dean?"

"Dean, are you alive?"

"Dean!"

"Are you okay?"

"Dean?" Sam and Julia chorused together.

They heard an annoyed groan before, "What?"

"Hey, are you all right?" Sam called down to him, relieved that his brother hadn't drowned in the nasty-looking river.

Dean crawled onto the muddy bank and made an 'okay' gesture. "I'm fucking super."

Julia broke into a relieved snicker and Sam chuckled, growing amused and joining in

They didn't stay at the bridge long after Dean pulled himself off the bank and walked back up to the highway. He didn't waste time waving the other two into the car so they could drive back to town and get a motel room for the night.

Once at the closest motel, Dean took a few minutes to check out the Impala for any damage.

"Everything okay with Baby?" Julia asked him tentatively, wrinkling at the horrible smell wafting off his muddy hair and clothes.

"Yeah, whatever she did to it seems fine now," Dean sighed and shut the hood. "That Constance chick, what a bitch!"

Sam smiled at him, amused. "Well, I guess she doesn't want us digging around," he commented; Dean scoffed in agreement. "So, where's the job gonna take us now?"

Dean huffed and threw his arms into the air, frustrated. At the same time, Julia gagged, the smell coming from the mud covering Dean making her feel nauseous.

The brothers looked at her expectantly and she shrugged, covering her nose. "You should take a shower," she advised Dean. "You really stink."

Dean glared at her. "Thanks for that, Junior."

Julia gave him a sweet smile as he rolled his eyes and Sam chuckled. Dean pulled out his wallet and started toward the motel office, Sam and Julia dutifully following after him. Once at the front desk, he threw his credit card on the counter.

"One room, please."

The old man working the desk gave Dean a reluctant look-over and then grabbed the card, reading the name on the front. "You guys having a reunion or something?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian," the man informed them. "He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

Julia looked at Sam and Dean, surprised, while Dean made an expression that told her that he was thinking he should have known his dad would rent out a room. Sam quickly made an excuse that they were coming to check on their father while Dean paid for another room.

Once they had their room key, the three of them went straight to the room that John rented out, picking the lock. Sam yanked Dean into the room after him and Julia and firmly shut the door.

Julia looked around the room, her eyes wide. The room was an absolute mess that made her skin itch; there were clothes all over the place, numerous papers taped to the walls, and old food sitting around. Dean turned on the lamp closest to him so they'd have more light to look around, picking up a half-eaten burger on the table below it.

He sniffed it curiously and silently gagged at the rank smell while Sam and Julia stepped over the salt ring on the floor to get a better look at the walls. "I don't think he's been here for a couple of days."

"Salt, cat's-eye shells," Sam listed as he looked at the salt on the floor. "He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."

In the back of her mind, Julia remembered that salt was like a barrier for all sorts of supernatural creatures, but at the moment her focus was on the papers taped to the wall. There were a bunch of articles about the disappearances over the last decade, as well as some local lore that he dug up.

"What have you got here?" Sam walked over to her.

Julia wrinkled her nose as Dean came over to take a closer look as well, and said, "Centennial Highway victims."

"I don't get it," Dean mumbled. "I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities...There's always a connection, right?"

Julia gave him a questioning look. "So, what do these guys have in common?"

Dean shrugged at her and Julia frowned, looking back at the profiles John had made for the victims.

"Dad figured it out," Sam spoke up, having moved across the room where more papers were taped on the wall.

"What do you mean?"

"He found the same article we did," Sam gestured to the wall where the article about Constance Welch was taped. "Constance Welch, she's a woman in white."

Dean smirked as he looked back at the victims. "You sly dogs."

"What's a woman in white?" Julia wondered, her eyes darting between Sam and Dean.

"It's a sort of phenomenon," Sam explained to her. "They're spirits that have been sighted for hundreds of years in dozens of places. They're women who had husbands who were unfaithful so they suffered from temporary insanity and murdered their children. They take their own lives afterwards and become cursed, killing any unfaithful man they find."

Julia winced but mentally stored the information in her head until she could write it down in the journal she brought with her. She'd been cheated on before but she was never angry enough that she would take a life—let alone a child, if she had one.

"Wow," she breathed; Sam nodded in agreement.

"All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it," Dean spoke up.

"She might have another weakness," Sam suggested.

"Well, Dad would want to make sure," Dean insisted, crossing the room to stand next to Sam. "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell," Sam's eyes brushed over the article on the wall. "If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband if he's still alive."

"All right," Dean nodded in approval. "Why don't you, uh, you guys go to the room and see if can find the address. I'm gonna get cleaned up in here."

Dean started toward the bathroom but Sam soon stopped him. "Hey, Dean?"

Dean looked at him expectantly.

"What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad," Sam said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Dean held his hand in the air, stopping Sam from speaking further. "No chick-flick moments."

Sam laughed and nodded. "All right, jerk."

"Bitch," Dean mumbled in reply before heading into the bathroom.

Julia furrowed her eyebrows and walked over to Sam. "Your brother has some serious issues dealing with emotions."

Sam scoffed. "No kidding. Come on, let's go."

He turned to leave but paused when he saw a picture stuck in the full-length mirror. He pulled it out of the frame and smiled softly when he saw that it was him, Dean, and his dad more than a decade ago, sitting on the hood of the Impala.

Julia took a peek at it. "Were you born in plaid?" she joked, sensing that he needed a little cheering up; it worked and he smiled slightly. "You look happy."

"We were," Sam sighed as he pocked the picture.

-

It was noon the next day when Dean finally woke up and started moving, having caught more than his usual four hours of sleep. He went straight into the bathroom, ignoring the happy greeting Julia sent him, and got ready for the day.

Julia rolled her eyes at the grumpy man and went back to her laptop, reading the website that Sam had showed her. There was a lot of information about women in white that Sam hadn't touched on earlier and she made sure to record it in her journal so she could look back on it later if she needed to.

It was while Sam was listening to a message from Jess he had missed earlier that Dean came out of the bathroom.

"Hey, I'm starving," he informed them as he slipped on his hand-me-down leather jacket that was a little bit too big for him. "I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You guys want anything?"

"Nah," Sam declined, continuing to listen to the message.

"Aframian's buying," Dean tried to tempt him but Sam shook his head. Dean sighed and turned to Julia with raised eyebrows. "What about you, shortcake?"

Julia bit her lip, thinking about what she wanted to eat. Dean subtly checked her out while she decided, enjoying the pajama shorts and cotton tank-top that she was lounging around in.

"A turkey club?" she smiled up at him.

Dean winked at her. "Coming right up."

Julia's heart raced and her smile fell as he left the room. That man was just too gorgeous for his own good. Dean was attractive, everyone knew that, but Julia had a crush on him when she was five years old and he was an awkward-looking preteen going through puberty. Luckily the crush went away by the time she was in high-school and Dean was a very legal adult. If she wasn't careful, though, she'd be sucked in again.

Her phone rang only seconds later. It was Dean.

"Yeah?"

"Five-oh," Dean warned her quietly; she stiffened nervously. "You and Sammy take off."

"What about you?" she asked worriedly.

"They kinda spotted me. Go find my dad, all right?"

He hung up and Julia stood up, quickly grabbing a pair of joggers to pull up over her shorts. "Sam, the police are here," she informed him hurriedly, grabbing her laptop and sliding into her backpack. "Let's go."

"All right," Sam nodded and stood up. "Come on, there's a window in the bathroom."

Out in the parking lot, Dean smiled charmingly at the police officers approaching him. "Problem, officers?"

"Where are your partners?" one of the officers—the one they spoke to the day before—asked.

"Partners?" he played it cool. "What partners?"

The officer nodded over at his partner and gestured to John's room and their room. The partner made his way over to John's room first, which relieved Dean. It'd give Julia and Sam more time to get away without being noticed.

"So," the first officer looked back at him. "Fake US Marshal, fake credit cards...You got anything that's real?"

"My boobs," Dean stated matter-of-factly, flashing the officer a cheeky grin.

The officer didn't like that very much. He called over his partner and grabbed Dean, hauling him over to their cruiser. He was slammed down on the hood and cuffed behind his back but he didn't care. Sam and Julia got away and he hadn't committed any crimes—yet—so they didn't have anything on him.

He was processed quickly when they got to the station and sat in an interrogation room while the officers gathered evidence from John's room. It was an hour later that the sheriff came in, holding a box of things they had taken.

"So," the man grumped, sitting the box on the table in front of Dean. "you want to give us your real name?"

"I told you. It's Nugent," Dean insisted cockily. "Ted Nugent."

The sheriff gave him a flat look. "I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."

"Are you talking like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or squeal-like-a-pig trouble?" Dean asked smartly.

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo," the sheriff informed him needlessly. "Boy, you are officially a suspect."

Dean scoffed; this guy was an idiot. There was no way that Dean was gonna go down for these murders since all they had were a bunch of printed out pictures of the victims. That's not actually enough evidence to do anything.

"That makes sense," he snarked at the man. "cause when the first one went missing in '82, I was three."

"I know you got partners," the sheriff was deterred. "One of them is an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So, tell me, Dean—"

Dean paused when the sheriff said his name, a cocky look on his face. The older man grabbed a book out of the box and threw it on the table in front of him. It was his dad's journal.

"—is this his?"

Dean's heart sank in his chest at the sight of the familiar, leather bound journal. His dad never went anywhere without it. Everything they knew about the supernatural creatures they've come across was recorded in those pages, along with a lot of personal information that Dean didn't like to be shared. Information about his mom's death and the way he grew up wasn't something he wanted random strangers to know about.

The sheriff recognized the look on Dean's face. "I thought that might be your name," he acknowledged, walking around the table so he could open the journal. "See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out—I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy."

Dean stared passively down at the pages he flipped through, the pictures of his ancestors, his mom, him, Sam, and their hunter friends filling some of the plastic sleeves inside.

Finally, the sheriff stopped on a page toward the back. "I found this, too," he pointed at a page with Dean's name and coordinates. "Now, you're staying right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

"It's my locker combination," Dean lied easily.

"Bullshit."

"I'm not lying," he insisted. "It's from years ago, when I was in high school."

The sheriff, rightfully, didn't believe him but Dean wasn't budging. He didn't know where the coordinates led to, but it had to be something important. Something that police officers or anyone who didn't know about John or the things that go bump in the night needed to see.

He questioned Dean for an hour, asking about many things. After a while, he veered the interrogation away from the coordinates and asked about his dad. He asked about Sam and Julia, too, but Dean insisted adamantly that he was alone. The sheriff didn't believe him but he didn't give a flying fuck—he wasn't a snitch. He enjoyed riling the old man up, too, seeing his face turn red with frustration and anger.

"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you," Dean sighed when the sheriff asked him about the coordinates again. "It's my high school locker combo."

"We gonna do this all night long?" the sheriff asked him grumpily.

A deputy poked his head into the room. "We just got a 9-1-1," he informed his superior. "Shots fired over at Whiteford Road."

The sheriff looked over at Dean. "Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

Dean gave him a weird look. "No."

"Good," the sheriff pulled handcuffs out of his belt and locked Dean to the table before leaving the room, the door shut firmly behind him.

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled the paperclip he had been eyeing from his dad's journal. He quickly set himself free and grabbed the journal, slipping it into his jacket. He waited until all the police officers left and then escaped, having the time to whistle a little tune.

"Finally," he heard a sigh as he walked out of the building. "I'm been waiting for ever."

Dean gave Julia an impressed look as she walked over to him, her arms folding across her ample chest. "You did that?" he pointed back at the station with his thumb; she nodded with a grin. "A fake 9-1-1 call. Impressive and very illegal."

"You're welcome," Julia beamed at him, pleased with his praise. "Come on, Sam went to question Joseph Welch."

"Ah," Dean nodded and walked by her side as she lead them to a car parked on the curb a block down. "Did you steal the car, too?"

"Sam taught me."

"He taught you?" he gave her a skeptical look. Even he had a couple lessons before he was successfully jacking cars. Julia was good but she wasn't that good.

"Okay, he stole it for me before taking off," Julia admitted. "but I paid attention."

Dean hummed and slid into the driver's seat, starting up the car. He asked Julia to call Sam as he started driving toward Joseph Welch's house and she did it without protesting.

"Hey," Sam answered quickly.

"You taught Jules the fake 9-1-1 call?" Dean greeted him. "I'm proud, Sammy."

Sam laughed. "Well, you're welcome."

"Listen, we gotta talk."

"Tell me about it," Sam sighed. "So, the husband was unfaithful. We are definitely dealing with a woman in white and she's buried behind her old house. That should have been Dad's next stop."

Dean sighed in frustration. "Sammy, could you shut up for a second?"

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you," Dean stated. "He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What?" Sam's voice stiffened while Julia looked at Dean in shock. "How do you know?"

"I got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

"Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?"

"Ah, same old ex-Marine shit," Dean grumbled. "when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates. Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet," Dean admitted.

"I don't understand," Sam said, frustrated. "I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?"

Dean stiffened when they heard the tires screech on the other line. It sounded like Sam had stopped very quickly.

"Sam? Sam?" Dean asked frantically.

Sam didn't answer, though, and the call quickly died out. Dean tossed Julia her phone and stepped on the gas, speeding up toward the address listed on the article about Constance Welch's suicide.

"Do you think he's okay?" Julia asked him nervously.

She was worried to death about her best friend and from Dean's reaction, he could be in seriously danger. She knew Sam was faithful to Jess but maybe the spirit didn't care. Apparently some of them didn't follow rules.

"I don't know," Dean said tightly. "We just got to get there fast."

"Okay."

"You know how to shoot a gun?"

"Of course."

"Good."

They pulled up to the old Welch residence, spotting the Impala parked right out in front. Dean and Julia jumped out of the car they stole and ran toward it; Dean handed her one of the spare guns he kept in his jacket—thankful that the police didn't do a body search—and used his own to shoot out the driver's window where the woman in white was straddling Sam.

The woman in white disappeared but promptly became visible again. Julia shot without thinking, her bullet disturbing the spirit. Sam took the opportunity to start the car and speed into the house, going through the front wall.

"Oh, my God!"

"Jesus Christ, I hope he didn't hurt my car," Dean mumbled furiously as he and Julia ran into the destroyed house.

"Sam?"

"Here!"

Julia ran over to the driver's door. "You okay?" she asked, ripping the door open; Sam nodded. "Can you move?"

"Yeah," Sam breathed as Dean rushed over to them. "Can you help me?"

Dean reached in and practically pulled Sam out of the Impala, getting him to his feet. Julia wrapped one of Sam's arms around her shoulders and allowed him to settle his very heavy weight on her as Dean stepped in front of them in case Constance came back.

Constance sure didn't look very happy with them. She threw down the portrait that she was looking at and waved her hand. A heavy dresser flew toward them, painfully pinning them to the wall.

Julia squeaked in pain as she was pressed against the wall. She was officially unable to move and unable to get away from the pain that the furniture inflicted on her stomach. Dean and Sam tried pushing the dresser away from them but it wouldn't budge.

Then the lights in the house started flickering and water started pouring down the staircase. Two creepy-looking child-ghosts appeared, getting Constance's attention. She stared at them in horror and a deep sadness.

"You've come home to us, Mommy," they whispered in unison.

Julia shivered, creeped out.

The children appeared behind Constance and promptly hugged her, causing her to scream. Her body flickered for a few seconds before all three of them burst into a weird fire that had Julia turning away and disappeared.

With Constance's spirit gone, Dean and Sam were able to move the dresser away from the three of them. Julia sighed in relief now that the pressure was gone and wrapped an arm around her torso. She was pretty sure she had bruised a couple of ribs.

My first hunting injury, she thought proudly.

"So, this is where she drowned her kids," Dean assumed, looking at the spot where the three spirits appeared.

Sam nodded. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"But I fought we had to burn her corpse to kill her?" Julia spoke up, kind of confused.

There was only so much she knew about hunting but she thought you got rid of ghosts by salting and burning their corpse. That didn't happen here.

"Sometimes you can find a spirit's weakness and that can take care of them," Sam informed her.

"In this case it just happened to be her kids," Dean added, clapping Sam on the shoulder. "Nice work, Sammy."

Sam laughed loudly and grinned at his brother. "Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you," he mocked him. "Where were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

Dean gave him an offended look.

"By the way, J, nice aim," Sam added, just to tease Dean further.

"Thanks, S," Julia grinned at him before sticking her tongue out at Dean.

"Children," Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm working with children. And another thing," he warned Sam. "If you fucked up my car, I'll kill you."

-

It was almost midnight by the time they arrived back at Stanford. Sam had successfully found where the coordinates that John left them led, a place in Colorado, and had turned Dean down when he offered to drive there now, wanting to go to his interview. Dean was visibly upset but he didn't argue.

Dean pulled up the apartment and parked in the lot. Sam slid out of the car and grabbed his bag from the back before leaning down to talk to Julia and Dean through the window.

"Be careful, J," Sam poked her in the forehead. "Listen to Dean, all right?"

"I will."

"And call me."

"Yes, Dad," Julia playfully rolled her eyes at him. "Say hello to Jess, would you? Love ya."

Sam winked at her and then turned to Dean, his face falling when he saw the sullen look on his brother's face. "Call me if you find him?"

Dean nodded.

"And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," Dean agreed easily. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

Sam smiled, his dimples popping out. "Yeah. Be careful."

Dean nodded and pulled out of the spot he had parked in. He quickly drove away from the apartment building and Julia assumed it was because he didn't want to dally and be sad about Sam's departure.

"You all right?" she asked Dean.

"I'm fine," Dean answered gruffly and changed the subject. "So, you survived your first hunt. How do you feel?"

"Good," Julia grinned. "Yeah, it was—"

She paused, scrunching up her nose as she got a bad feeling. She couldn't explain it and it felt different from the one she had about Dean but she knew something was wrong.

Dean gave her a worried look when she stopped talking. "You okay?"

"No," she shook her head. "I have a bad feeling."

As if the universe was agreeing to her statement, the radio glitched out. Dean looked at the dash, noticing that the clock had stopped working. He quickly turned the vehicle, his heart starting to race, and started driving back to Sam.

By the time they got there, the apartment was in flames and Jess was dead.

(Gif is not mine)

[agarariddle-andhernachos]

EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED

Tom Riddle x Hermione Granger

Summary : Everything was planned, the spring wedding, the house, the children. But not Tom. Tom was not part of the plan. Unplanned things happen after all.

Azkaban was mostly renowned for its game night each Tuesday. Hermione had the habit of going there with her girlfriends on those nights. Tonight she was late. She saw the pub from afar and picked up the pace to reach the door. Once inside, she felt the warmth of the fireplace and the smell of the beer.

Luna noticed her from where she was sitting and rose her hand. Hermione smiled as she saw her friend and approached the table.

“Finally !” Ginny whined. “We’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

“Oh come on Ginny, she’s just ten minutes late.” Fleur smiled.

“Sorry girls, the tube was packed and I had to wait for the next one. When are those strikes going to end ?” Hermione wondered as she took off her winter coat and put it on the back of her chair.

She gestured to the bartender to order a beer and turned back to her friends.

“Please tell me you’ve gone to the florist.” Fleur told her.

“Oh fuck.” Hermione exhaled and put her head in her hands.

“Hermione ! The wedding is in 2 months.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go there tomorrow. I promise.”

 The bartender put the beer in front of her and Hermione smiled at him.

“Hello everyone.” The voice of Lee Jordan resonated in the small pub. “Welcome back for game night. You all know the rules, each team gives a fiver and the winning team wins one meter of shots.”

The crowd cheered at this. Hermione put her hair in a ponytail, readying herself for what was about to happen. She had always loved a little competition and in the past few months she had taken those quiz games quite seriously. One of the waitresses put one buzzer on their table as Angelina Jonson gave her a fiver.

 “Everyone has a buzzer ?” Lee Jordan asked. “Good, let’s get started then. Question 1 : When you flush the toilet, in which direction does the water drain away ? A. Is there even a direction ? B. Counter-clockwise. C. Clockwise. D. In whichever way, the water does whatever it wants.”

 Hermione almost spilled her own drink trying to get to the buzzer. “B. Counter-Clockwise.” She answered. Her friends looked at her, wondering how she even knew the answer to this question.

“One point to the red team. Nice to see you Hermione.” Lee Jordan smirked.

 “Question 2 : How many squares are there on a chessboard ? A. It depends on the size of the squares. B. It depends on the size of the chessboard. C. It depends on the pieces. D. 64 squares.”

 The five girls looked at each other and laughed at the absurdity. Hermione went to press the buzzer but she heard someone being faster at the back of the room.

Hermione eagerly turned around and saw a tall man standing by his table a beer in his hand. His hair was perfectly styled and he had a shit eating grin on his lips.

“D. 64 squares.” The man answered. His mates all clapped as he found the right answer.

“One point to the green team.” Lee announced.

“This question was too easy anyway.” Hermione mumbled. “A child could have answered that.” Luna and Ginny shared a knowing glance at their friend's attitude.

“Question 3 : One of those superheroes is made up. Which one ? A. Spiderman. B. Sandman. C. Elastic man. D.Mashed Potato Man.”

 The sound of two buzzers could be heard and both of the players speaking up the same answer at the same time. Hermione, her hand still on the buzzer, turned around once more and glared at the man, his hand still on the buzzer too.

 “I pressed it before you.” Hermione told him.

“No, I did.” He shot back.

Hermione turned towards Lee Jordan and asked him “Lee, I was the one to buzz first, right ?”

“Oh of course, ask your friend !” The man snickered behind her.

“It doesn’t mean anything that he’s my friend because I’m right.” Hermione snapped.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Calm down guys, it’s just a game.” Lee tried to defuse the tension. “Actually, green you didn’t really press the buzzer and the yellow team did. Hermione, you buzzed last. So it’s the yellow team that has to say the answer.”

“D ? Mashed potato man ?” A shy girl said.

“One point to the yellow team.” Lee cheered.

 Hermione was still looking at the man, a small smirk on her lips as he lost the point.

“You lost too, you know ?” He finally told her.

“I don’t talk to other teams.” Hermione mumbled before turning back on her chair.

Her four friends were all snickering, clearly making fun of her highly competitive self. Hermione mouthed the word “what ?” then waited for the next question.

“Question 4 : Among those Smurfs, one doesn’t exist. A. The purple smurf. B. The astro-smurf. C. The smurfette. D. The smurf who doesn’t exist.”

 Hermione hadn’t had the time to laugh at the question that she was already shouting the answer, her left arm colliding with her beer, and the latter ending up on the floor. “D. The smurf who doesn’t exist.”

“Hermione, you really need to calm down.” Lee Jordan laughed. “It’s only a silly game.”

Hermione felt her cheeks heating and slowly lowered her head, a little embarrassed.

“Ok, a second point to the red team. It’s time for the theme round. As you all know, I’ll give you a theme and some clues. Tonight’s team is Monsters. Let’s get started. Which monster has a zip on its face and was created by a mad scientist ?”

“Frankenstein !” The man almost yelled, apparently as much competitive as Hermione was.

“Good answer ! 1 point to the green team.” Lee Jordan smiled.

“Excuse me ?” Hermione snapped. “That is not the right answer.” She faced the man and got up. “Frankenstein is the name of the said-scientist, not of the monster.”

The man put his beer down and took a step forward. “What would you call it then ?” He sneered.

“Frankenstein's monster.” Hermione replied as if the was the most evident answer.

“Come on ! It’s the fucking same.”

“No it is not. Check your facts.”

 They were both only a couple of meters away, the entire bar could feel the tension rising up. This small argument rapidly turned into something nastier. Slurs were thrown. Suddenly, Hermione felt a light pressure on her arm and saw Oliver Wood, the owner of the bar, taking her outside.

“Oliver ?” She asked, quite shocked. The door opened just a moment later and Hermione saw the man being escorted by Cormac McLaggen, the bartender.

“You two stay here until you’re calm.” Oliver said before getting back inside.

 A silence settled. As the man lit up a cigarette, Hermione took out her phone. She mumbled something.

“Come again ?” He asked.

“I was right. It is the monster of Frankenstein and not just Frankenstein.”

“Are you seriously still on that ?

 Hermione pouted and crossed her arms on her chest. She started shivering from the cold. The man secured his cigarette around his lips, sighed and took off his coat. He approached her and draped it over her shoulders. She rose her head to meet his eyes and took a step back.

“Let me stop you right there. I found mine.” She simply told him.

“And ?” He genuinely asked.

“I can see where you’re going with your coat and all of that.” She moved her hand close to his face. “I’m not single. I already found mine.”

“Good for you, so did I. But can’t you just say thank you like a normal person ?”

She looked at him and said “thank you” under her breath.

 The door to the bar opened and two people came out of it, one being Ginny.

“Hermione, the game is over. We won. You can get back inside.” She told her.

Hermione gave back his coat to the man standing and went to join her friend when the other person spoke up.

“Tom, let’s hit Dolohov’s party.”

She looked at the man, Tom. He nodded at his friend and stared at her for a couple of seconds, before Ginny pushed her back into the bar.

 **********

 “How’s your chicken ?” Ron asked her.

“Quite dry.” She laughed. “Come on taste it, and tell me this isn’t dry.” She shoved her fork in front of his face and looked at him in adoration as he took a bite.

“Tastes fine to me.” He smirked.

“Everything tastes fine to you. I’m starting to wonder if you have functioning taste buds.” She teased him.

 He only laughed at that. The waiter went by their side and asked them if they wanted more wine. Ron shook his head and took Hermione’s hand.

“Are we still going to my parents this weekend ?” He wondered out loud.

“Of course we are. When haven’t we spend our anniversary anywhere else ?” Hermione smiled. “Eleven years.”

“Eleven years.” He repeated. “Who would have thought my Complete to be the annoying know-it-all in middle school.”

 Hermione playfully got her hand back and leaned in her chair. “You know what you got into the first time you touched me.”

“And I wouldn’t change that for the world. However, when I think about it, it was quite weird for an eleven-year-old boy to see his all future ahead. The house, the children, you…”

Hermione gently smiled at that. Something began vibrating on their table. Ron took a quick glance at his pager and exhaled.

“I’m sorry honey. I have to go.” He told her as he rose from his seat.

“What ? Right now ?”

“Yes, there is another demonstration near Piccadilly. I am sorry.”

“When is it going to stop ?”

“I don’t know. I hope soon. You know the Incomplete-” Ron got interrupted by another buzzing sound. “I’m sorry again.” He craned his head to press his lips against hers. A minute later, he was out of the restaurant.

Hermione wondered if she should finish eating or just head back early to work. The dryness of her meal answered for her. She picked up her bag, put on her coat and approached the counter to pay.

 She waited behind the woman already paying when someone lightly poked her shoulder. She turned around and saw him.

“Excuse me, may I go before you ? I’m already late to work.” He said without looking at her.

“No you may not.”

He lowered his gaze and met her eyes.

“Oh. It’s you.” He flatly said.

She rolled her eyes and faced the back of the woman paying.

“You don’t want to talk about Frankenstein today ?” She could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Shut it.”

“Come on Hermione.”

She turned around and saw his shit-eating grin.

“Oh pardon me.” He scoffed and stopped smiling. “I shouldn’t smile or you’ll interpret that as flirting.”

“You think you’re funny right ? Well you’re not.” They looked at each other for a while before Hermione exhaled and took a step back. “I’m in a good mood. Go ahead.” She showed with her hand the spot where she was before. He nodded his head a thank you and approached the counter.

  **********

 Monday night was always an almost all-nighter for Hermione. Her internship in this law-firm had started three months ago and apparently her clients liked keeping her busy on the first day of the week. She looked around her and the office was completely empty. She checked her inbox one last time before leaving the building. She stopped before the front door, a horrified look on her face as she saw the heavy rain pouring from the night sky. As the British girl she was, she took out her umbrella and faced the weather. The tube was not that far, but knowing the current social climate she knew it would be packed, she then decided on taking a taxi. She put her left hand in the air, trying to call one. A dozen passed in front of her, all already busy with a customer.

 After ten minutes of long waiting, one stopped in front of her and the passenger window lowered revealing him. Tom.

“How are you ?” He smirked.

“Just go away.” She replied.

“Where are you going ?”

“Chelsea.”

“You’re lucky, it’s on my way. Hop in.”

 She furrowed her brows, wondering if he was making fun of her or not. She decided on getting inside the taxi as she was currently freezing and drenched. She told the taxi driver her address then lounged back.

“Why did you help me ?” She asked him.

“I owe you one. You let me go before you the other day at the restaurant.”

“Well, I guess you’re not as bad as I thought.”

 He smirked. The ride back to Chelsea was not as long as Hermione thought it would be when she saw Tom’s face. They began to talk, about nothing in particular. She found out he was a little shit, but a nice little shit. What was refreshing was that they never talked once about their Complete. Usually, this was the first subject when you meet a new person, they would ask you if you had already met yours, how long it would have been, how many children you would have seen when touching him for the first time.

They didn’t speak about that in this taxi. Actually, they laughed.

 **********

 She was late for game night. Again. However, not ten minutes late like last week but thirty-five minutes late. So when Hermione entered Azkaban, she directly went to the bar, well aware that the girls were currently playing. Cormac poured her usual and smiled as he put it in front of her. She brought it to her lips and rose her head to look at the small TV behind the counter. As usual, Sky News was on loop.

 6 weeks of strikes - Government lost in front of thousands of Incomplete.

Violent demonstration in Westminster.

Prime Minister Fudge - ‘I am well aware of the difficulties the Incompletes are facing’-

 “They’re not wrong though.” She heard from beside her. She startled and saw a tall man standing in front of her. She took a good look at him.

“Taxi guy.” She said.

“Usually people call me Tom.” He smirked. She blinked and smiled.

“Of course Tom.” She remembered.

“Hermione, your team is losing.” Cormac joked. She looked behind the counter and saw Ginny currently pulling at her hair. She laughed at the sight.

“They’re totally lost without me.” She told Cormac.

“Yet, they won without you last week.” Tom intervened.

“I gave them a head start.” She winked.

“Sure you did.” He laughed.

 Tom simply put his beer on the counter and silently joined her in watching the news. The demonstration had started slowly at first, only a dozen of people throughout London. In the next few weeks, the movement had taken great breadth. Thousands of Incomplete marching in the streets, in front of the Parliament and Buckingham, by the riverbanks. Hermione could understand what the Incomplete were trying to tell the government, but seeing Ron leaving every morning in his police uniform to contain the demonstration and meeting him at night, all bloodied, she couldn’t stand this anymore.

“They’re not wrong, you are right.” She spoke up, picking up on what he said before. “I just wouldn’t do it that way.”

He looked at her from the corner of his eye and analyzed the situation before replying. “How long has it been for you ?”

“Eleven years.”

“And you are what ? Twenty-two at most ? You don’t know what those people are going through. You’ve never lived your adult life being an Incomplete.”

 She looked at him and pursed her lips. “Did you ?”

“I did. I only met mine three years ago.”

“But you found yours. They could all find theirs.” She said while pointing her finger at the screen showing videos of the demonstrations.

He let out a somber laugh. “You don’t know that. Maybe their Complete are dead or not living on the same continent. You’re one of the lucky ones Hermione. Not everyone is like you.”

 She didn’t know what to answer. Hermione had never really thought about the Incomplete in that way. They stopped talking after that, they were not even looking at each other anymore. Hermione heard someone talking to her but didn’t register before Luna told her name twice.

“Hermione !” Luna shook her shoulder.

“Hey.” Hermione turned around to face her friend.

“We’re losing because you arrived late.”

 A cheeky grin grew on her face and she looked at Tom. “Told ya.” He laughed at that.

“Hello. I’m Luna Lovegood.” The blond girl extended a hand towards Tom, he shook it. “No Luna Scamander.” She let out a small laugh, she had only been married for a few months and was not used to giving her bridal name yet.

“Hi, I’m Tom. Tom Riddle.”

“You were the one Hermione fought with last week, aren’t you ?”

“Let’s not get back on that.” He smirked. “She’s going to talk about Frankenstein again after that.”

Hermione lightly shoved him in the ribs and laughed.

“See you. The second round is about to start.” Luna concluded before glancing at Hermione, inviting her to join.

“I’ll finish my beer first.” Hermione answered. Luna smiled at both of them and went back to sit at their usual table.

“You don’t want to play ?” Tom teased.

“I don’t want to be linked to a defeat.”

“You’re clinically crazy.” He laughed.

 Both took their beer at the same time and began drinking, their eyes still glued to each other. One sip turned into two, then without even speaking about it, Hermione, alone, started competing for who could finish their beer first. Tom stopped after the second sip and just stared at her.

“You’re fucking insane.” He couldn’t help but laugh.

“But I won.” She replied as she finished her entire pinte.

“It was not even a competition.”

“Says the loser.”

 Tom kept looking at her, something in his eyes Hermione had never seen before. Time felt as if it has stopped for a second. Only two people in a pub, all alone, looking at each other, enjoying a beer.

“And the blue team is the winner !” Lee Jordan shouted, bringing both of them to reality. Tom cleared his voice and turned towards the TV. Hermione left to join her friends.

 **********

 On their anniversary, Hermione and Ron had the habit of spending it with Ron’s family, at the Burrows. Molly was behind the stove, preparing the meal for a dozen people in the kitchen. The others were all gathered in the living room, chatting over a flute of champagne about the current political climate and the strikes. Angelina and Fred were sharing a love seat by the chimney, George and Veracity not far. As usual Ginny was on Harry’s lap.

Since they found out they were Complete, Hermione had gotten along well with the Weasley. She felt good with them, as if she had always been part of the family.

 “Ginny told me you’ve been late for two weeks in a row to games nights. What happened to our Hermione ?” Harry joked as he went by her side.

“Not my fault. I don’t control the tube yet Harry.” She smiled at her friend and soon to be brother in law.

“You must have been quite disappointed not being able to play with the girls.”

“Losing you mean.” Hermione chuckled. “Actually I had a great time. I drank my beer, I talked to.. to someone. I had fun.”

“Someone ?”

“Yeah, a guy at the bar. I don’t really remember. Maybe I drank too much.” She laughed. Hermione looked at Molly and whispered to Harry. “How is she ?”

“You know how hard it is for her when the entire family gathers.”

 Hermione took a step towards Harry to keep the conversation confidential. “Are we ever going to know what really happened ?”

“I don’t dare to bring up the subject with Ginny.”

“It’s been eight years since he left. I remember that day. Molly had set up the table for thirteen, then suddenly she took one out. It has always been twelve plates ever since.”

“But you remember how he was. Always secretive, sneaking out, always writing in his little notebook. Percy was hiding something, he was lying to his family. To us.”

“I know, but what I find weird is that he left without his Complete. Without Penelope.”

Molly called everyone for lunch.

“Let’s not talk about that anymore.” Harry finished.

 **********

 Ginny had invited her shopping on Regent’s street this afternoon. Hermione got out of Green Park station and saw from afar a Cafe Nero. A cappuccino sounded nice so she entered the coffee and placed her order. The small place was quite packed and Hermione settled next to the counter.

“Excuse-me.” Someone bumped into her shoulder to get to the counter.

“An americano for Tom.” The barista spoke up. The man took the coffee and Hermione opened her eyes widely.

“Tom.” She smiled. He turned around and took a good look at her. She could see in his eyes that he couldn’t place her.

“Hermione.” She offered and saw the realisation in his eyes.

“Of course Hermione. How could I not remember ?” He looked at his drink. “You want to compete over coffee this time ?”

She faked being offended and open her hand to show him she had no coffee yet.

“Oh, let me buy you one.” He offered.

“I placed my order already. But thanks.”

“Do you have time to sit down ?” He shot her a beautiful smile. Hermione looked at the time and nodded.

 The waitress called her name and Tom went to pick it up.

“One cappuccino.” He said while putting the cup in front of her.

“What a gentleman.” She laughed.

“Please keep this image of me and try to forget about the arsehole you met the first time.”

 They exchanged a smile and took a sip. “So Frankenstein. You like literature ?” He started.

“Frankenstein’s monster.” She corrected him cheekily.

“Of course, Frankenstein’s monster.”

“I liked the book, but I prefer French literature. Have you read Boris Vian ?”

“The Froth of Days ?”

“Yes, The Froth of Days.”

“I do enjoy Vian, the absurdity of the story mixed with humour and deep subjects. But I really enjoy his songs. Le Déserteur.”

 Hermione lounged back in her chair, a smile on her lips. She was not often taken aback, but on this day, in this coffee place, she was.

“Did you know that the ending was changed ? The French government obliged him to change the lyrics.” He kept going.

“Who would have thought Azkaban’s arsehole to be educated.” Hermione teased him.

“I asked you to forget about that. I am a gentleman from now on.” He whined.

 They talked about literature, their favourite books and their hidden meaning. The way finishing a good book felt like breaking up with the characters, the way turning a page was satisfactory and the way old books smelled like. They disagreed on a lot, but they could agree on that. He was easy to talk to, easy to laugh with, and easy on the eyes.

 Hermione’s phone rang on the table and she quickly picked up.

“Where the hell are you ?” Ginny asked her.

Hermione looked through the window and could see the ginger her back facing her.

“Ginny, I’m in the coffee. I can see you from here.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Give me two minutes.”

“Well, it was nice talking to you Tom.” Hermione greeted him goodbye. They both rose from their seats at the same time.

“I'll see you around Hermione.”

 Before leaving, Hermione threw away her empty cup in the bin, her mind still on the conversation she just had. On her way out, someone bumped into her, making her snap out of her thoughts.

“Was that the guy from game night ?” Ginny asked her as she looked through the window.

“Who ?”

Ginny pointed her finger at a tall man sitting alone at a table, a grin on his face.

“Oh. Maybe.” Hermione shrugged.

 **********

 Bank station at 8:30 AM was a nightmare. On top of the never ending corridors, people were all rushing, pushing each other to reach the exit as quickly as possible. People leaving the Central Line and the others trying to reach this Tube line were facing each other, only separated by a small iron bar.

Someone caught her eyes. Someone wearing a perfectly fitting dark blue suit, his dark hair perfectly styled. Someone she felt as if she knew from somewhere. Hermione just kept walking.

 Arrived at her office, she said a quick ‘hi’ to Lavender, the receptionist then reached her desk.

“What’s wrong with you ?” Lavender asked her, her elbows on the top of her cubicle.

“What ?” Hermione rose her head.

“You seem weird. You didn’t stop for our usual trash talk this morning. What’s going on ?”

“Nothing. I just feel a little spaced out.” Hermione thought about stopping there, but she kept talking. “Do you know the feeling where you feel something bothering you but you don’t know what ? It keeps nudging you and you can’t put your finger on it.”

“Have you turned off the lights this morning ? It happens to me when I think I forgot to do that.” Lavender smiled.

“No, it has nothing to do with that. I don’t know it’s weird. Forget about that.��

 Lavender sat next to her and start picking at her nails.

“So when he is going to pop the question ?” Brown smirked.

 Hermione had seen the proposal. She had seen it when she was eleven years old, the first time she had touched Ron’s hand. It was at the Burrows, in the little garden behind the house. Just the two of them and candles. It was romantic and Hermione smiled just thinking about it. She also remembered how she looked like, how Ron looked like. They were in their twenties.

 “I think soon.” Hermione replied with a small smile on her lips.

“You’re so lucky.” Lavender grinned putting her hand on top of her fists. “Cormac is not going to do his before ten years. It will be at breakfast, and he will just ask me without a ring. I don’t mind. It’s meant to be.”

 The firm’s main partner, Minerva McGonagall stopped by her desk and rose an eyebrow at the receptionist.

“Miss Brown, if I remember correctly your desk is not here.” She said in a stern voice. Lavender lowered her head and quickly left Hermione to join her station.

 **********

 Hermione had finally gone to the florist. Two weeks late but still she went. The little shop was charming and Hermione wandered around. She heard the small bell on the door ringing, announcing someone’s arrival.

“Hermione ?” She heard the florist, Miss Sprout, calling her. “Could you please check if the bouquet is in the right shade of blue ?”

 Hermione turned around and approached the counter. A tall man was looking at her, his mouth slightly agape.

“Hermione ?” He tentatively said.

“Do I know you ?” She genuinely asked.

“It’s me, Tom.”

 At that Hermione cocked her head.

“Tom.” She smiled. “Of course. How could I not remember you. Remember your name.”

“Yeah, it seems to happen a lot.” Tom nodded. Hermione could see that he was preoccupied with something.

 Miss Sprout brought a huge bouquet of blue peonies. The flowers were perfect, the exact shade of Fleur’s eyes.

“That’s beautiful, Miss Sprout. She will love it.” Hermione grinned.

The florist finally acknowledged Tom’s presence.

“Mister Riddle ! The flowers are ready, I just need a little signature and we will send them to Miss Hornby.”

 Tom shook his head to get back to reality and did as ordered. He then turned to Hermione. “Do you have time for coffee ?” He pressed.

“Hum, sure.”

 Tom opened the door and let her get out first. On the corner of the street was a little coffee shop, entirely empty. They sat down and ordered two espressos. They didn’t talk at first, they both had something to say but didn’t know how to broach the subject. Tom finally broke the silence. “Why can’t I remember your name ? We’ve met five times now. And I still can’t remember it on my own.”

Hermione looked at him, as if she was asking for his permission to talk.

“Say it.” He told her.

“I don’t remember you at all.” She stopped abruptly. “Do you take the Central Line ?”

“Pardon ?”

“Around 8:30AM, do you take the Central Line ?” She repeated.

“I do. Everyday.”

 Hermione let out a small laugh. “That was you. I saw you the other day. Well, I couldn’t remember you, but I saw that man, in a dark navy suit, and I felt as if I knew him from somewhere. It was you. But I couldn’t remember. Why can’t I remember ?” Hermione stared at her hands. “When you told me your name at the florist, everything came back. So clearly. The bar, the restaurant, the taxi, the coffee shop. Everything.”

 Tom was staring at her, feeling as lost as she currently was.

“Ginny, my friend, she remembered you. She asked me if you were the guy from game night. She remembered you. Why can’t I ?” She finally met his gaze.

“I don’t know.”

“Does it mean we’re going to forget each other after this coffee ?” She realised.

  **********

 “Hermione, are you alright ?” McGonagall asked her.

 Hermione was currently sitting in one of the leather chairs in her boss’s office. Hermione had a great relationship with her. Minerva McGonagall had been her professor at law school, then her mentor. She trusted her with her life.

 “You’ve been off lately. Is everything alright ? Do you have too much work ?” Minerva pressed.

“No it’s not about work.” Hermione finally answered. “Can I talk to you about something ?”

“You can always talk to me.” The older woman gently smiled.

“Something has been happening for a while now. I feel like something is missing. Something doesn’t feel right. I have this nudge, constantly.” She emphasised the “constantly”.

 McGonagall got up and went to lock the door. Hermione shot her an interrogating glance.

“Do you feel like you’re forgetting something ?” Her mentor asked her in a small voice.

“Exactly ! Yes.”

“Do you have lapses of memory ? Like certain memories are incomplete ? Like you remember going to the movies, but not with who ?”

“Yes…” Hermione felt her heart beat faster in her chest. “Do you know what’s going on ?”

 Minerva only looked at her. “Did you know my current husband was not my Complete ?” She finally asked Hermione.

“I thought he was.”

“My first husband was, Elphistone. He died twenty-five years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. I met Dougal. His Complete was still alive at the time. When we were meeting, I could remember him, our first encounter, our first laugh. Everything. He couldn’t though. But I soon as I told him my name, everything came back to him. Years later, after the death of his Complete he explained this to me. He had the feeling of something missing. Something didn’t feel right.”

“And you think this is happening to me ?” Hermione barely whispered.

“Maybe. Maybe I’m wrong. It sure looks like it.”

“But it is impossible !” Hermione got up. “I’m Ron’s Complete. I love him, we’re going to get engaged soon. I’ve seen the kids, the house. I’ve seen everything, our entire life !”

“Hermione, calm down.” Minerva gently told her. “Unplanned things happen.”

“No they don’t.”

 Minerva went by Hermione’s side and put her hand on her shoulder. “Who is he ?”

“I don’t know.” Hermione felt the tears of frustration in her eyes. “No one ! There is no one.”

“When did it start ?”

“I don’t know… One month ago ?”

“Have you told anyone else ?”

“No. Only you.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” She led Hermione back to her chair and kneeled in front of her. “I am going to tell you something Hermione. You are not going to believe me. But the next time you see him, because you will see him again, you are going to ask him one question.”

 **********

 She had arrived on time this Tuesday. Ginny even applauded when she saw Hermione coming through the door. As usual, she sat down with the girls and gestured to Cormac for a beer.

“Why do you have to tell over and over again about your future proposal to Lavender ?” He snapped as he brought her the beer.

“She asked me Cormac.” Hermione shrugged.

“For fuck sakes Hermione !” McLaggen stormed off. The five girls looked at each other and burst out laughing. She took a sip of her beer and looked around the room. Sitting at a table near the bar, she saw a man. A tall man with perfectly styled hair, elbowing at his friend. “Say my name.” He was whispering loudly. His friend was not obeying so he gave him a hard shove in the ribs.

“Tom ! What the fuck !”

 Everything came back.

 She froze. They were looking at each other, remembering every minute they had spent together.

“I-I need to go, I have a phone call to make.” Hermione mumbled before leaving the pub. Once outside she took a deep breath and looked at the sky. She felt the panic rising in her chest.

“What the fuck is going on ?” Tom snapped.

Hermione turned around and saw him not far from her, his chest quickly rising.

“Do you have feelings for me ?” She blurted out, vaguely remembering her conversation with Minerva.

“What ?”

“Do you have feelings for me Tom ?”

“I already have a Complete.” He tried to change the subject.

“That is not the question. Do you have feelings for me ?”

 He froze, his gaze stuck on her.

“Yes. I do.” He finally let out.

“I know what is happening.” She whispered. Hermione put both of her hands in her hair and pulled. “It’s fucked up Tom. It’s really fucked up.”

 The first time they met, they were almost yelling at each other. Nothing but the physical attraction between them. So they remembered a bit when they met the second time at the restaurant. Still, nothing more than physical attraction. But the third time, in the taxi, they laughed. He had looked at her in the way he was supposed to look at his Complete, and she had given a smile that was only reserved for Ron.

There was more than physical attraction, and faith couldn’t allow that. So they started forgetting. Their memory started failing them, but not entirely. There was always something bothering them. Like something was missing.

However, there is always a loophole. The names. Once they heard each other names, bright flashes came back. The memories of their encounters, the sound of their laughter, the feeling in their chest when the other smiled.

But as soon as the parted ways, they forgot again. It was an endless loop.

 The pub’s door opened and they both turned around in surprise.

“Let’s get somewhere else.” Tom took her hand. As predicted, nothing happened, not flashforward of their lives, no house, no children, nothing. Unplanned things happen. She squeezed his hand.

 They went to a small restaurant and ordered too much wine. He told her about his childhood, his drunken stories and every embarrassing thing that happened to him. And she smiled, she smiled so much that night that her cheeks began hurting.

Because tonight was the first time she learned things about someone she had feelings for instead of already knowing.

They kissed at the end of the night. Not because they knew their first kiss would happen in this dark alley near Soho, but only because they wanted to.

 They forgot that night when they went their separate ways. Hermione wondered why she was smiling and Tom why his heart was beating this fast.

 But every time they met, because they would meet again and again, they would look at each other, not knowing who the other person was but still feeling a pull towards each other. Sometimes they would not hear their names and just went their own way, other times, the good times as Hermione liked to call them, they would hear their names. She would laugh as her memory came back, the first encounter, the restaurant, the taxi, their first kiss. Then she would want to cry, because how could the universe do that to them ? Take their free-will away ? Tom would simply hug her and whisper sweet nothings in her ears. And just like that, she would laugh again.

 **********

 “Maybe we should leave.” Tom whispered against her naked shoulder.

“What ?” She smiled, not taking him seriously.

“I think we should leave. I think I’m forgetting more and more about you. Actually not only about you, but about where I was when we met, about what I was feeling on that day. We’re beginning to forget about things that are not directly linked to each other. I couldn’t remember what I did last tuesday. I forgot an entire day. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let you go. I can’t forget about you no more.”

 Her smile faltered. He put back a strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear.

“Nothing compares to you. No one compares to you Hermione. Can’t you see ?”

“Tom…”

“Everyday,” He cut her. “I wake up next to a woman faith gave me. Someone I didn’t chose. Someone I learned to love because I knew I would love her in the future. What kind of love is that ? If this is love, I don’t want it.” When Tom spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. The whisper of a love confession in the late night, only meant for her to hear. “I want you, I want what we have. I want to wake up each morning without knowing what we will do, will we get married one day ? Will we have children ? Maybe we will fight on their names or on the apartment we would like to move into. We will laugh, and fight, and love. And the best part of it will be that we won’t have any idea of what’s coming next.”

 Hermione brushed his face with her fingers adoringly.

“Tom,” She murmured. “Every morning I will wake up without knowing who you are.”

“And every morning I will tell you my name.”

 **********

 When she arrived at the Burrows with Ron, Harry was standing by the door, looking at their car. She got out and felt Harry’s gaze on her. Ron went inside after clapping one of Harry’s shoulders, leaving her alone with her friend.

“We need to talk.” He harshly said.

“Well, hello to you too.” Hermione tried to joke. “Let me say hello to everyone and I’ll be with you.”

“No, we are going to talk right now.”

 Harry took her by the arm and led her to the garden, far from potential eavesdroppers.

“What the fuck was that ?” Harry snapped.

“What are you talking about ?” Hermione was completely lost.

“About last night !” He barked. “What you told me on the phone.”

“I didn’t call you last night. I was… I was with… I-” She couldn’t remember.

“You were with him.” He looked at her. “You told me that you needed to talk to me. That you were in love. That you were just with him, that you had spent the fucking night with him. You were crying on the phone, begging the universe to let you keep this only memory of him. You asked me to talk today. To tell you-” Harry stopped.

“Tell you what ?” Hermione snapped.

 Hermione took a step back and turned around. She put all of her efforts into remembering something. Anything. A little conversation with McGonagall came back to mind, just a small part of it. Something about her second husband.

 “I’m in love.” She realised. She felt it, the warmth in her chest, the flutter of her heart. “I’m in love Harry.” She faced her friend.

“You love him but you can’t even tell me his name.”

“I’ve told you his name, didn’t I ? Tell me.”

“I won’t Hermione.”

“Just tell me his fucking name !” She almost yelled, her eyes wet with tears.

“Open your eyes Hermione. You know what you’re up to with Ron, you saw the house, your beautiful children. You’ve seen everything. You’ve got everything. You feel like you’re in love with someone else right now but you are not. It’s just a lie, a big lie. You’re in love with Ron. You will have a spring wedding, you will live in this big white house on the hill. You will have two children, Rose and Hugo. Everything you ever wanted, ev-”

“But if I don’t want that ? What if I don’t want to know everything ? What if I want more ?” She cut him. “What if I just want to live every day without knowing what tomorrow will be made of ?”

“You’re just like Percy.” He shot at her like an insult. “Yes, Ginny told me.”

 Hermione stopped talking. Suddenly, it all made sense. What happened, why he left.

“Are you ready to give up on everyone for a man you fucked twice in your life ?” Harry kept going.

“But I love him.” Hermione cried.

“No, you love Ron.” Harry took her by the shoulders and kept repeating the same sentence. “You love Ron, you love Ron.”

“Shut up.” She yelled. “Please shut up.”

“You love Ron Hermione.”

 She closed her eyes, the world was spinning around her. Her brain was about to go off, her heart was panicking in her chest, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think.

 “Calm down Hermione.” Harry said to her in a soothing voice. He took her in his arms and patted her back. “Everything is alright.”

“What is going on ? I don’t feel well.”

“You just fainted. We were talking about Ginny. I think you are tired. You should take a nap.”

“Yes, I think I should.”

 Harry kissed her forehead and led her inside. The last thing she remembered that night, before falling asleep, was loving Ron.

 **********

 “Ron, it’s a mess over here. I think it’s going to get violent soon.” Hermione said on the phone, panic evident in her voice.

“Where are you ?” Ron quickly asked.

“Westminster.”

“Do not move, I coming to get you.”

 He hung up the phone and Hermione looked around her. The protesters were all getting angry by the minutes. The signs they were brandish were not as peaceful as they were when the strikes began 8 months ago. The Incomplete were mad, mad at the government for not letting them buy a house because they had not had the vision yet, so this house could not be theirs. They were mad at the Complete for having the privilege of living a perfect life just because they had met the right person at the right time.

 “Hermione !” She could hear from somewhere behind. She tried to look around her to find Ron, but Westminster Square was packed.

A tall man with perfectly styled hair was running towards her. He took her face between his hand and simply said his name.

 Everything came back.

 “We need to leave. It’s going to get violent here.” Tom said in a hurry. He took her by the hand and led her through the crowd.

“Tom, Tom wait.” Hermione pulled her back. “I’m engaged.”

“What ? I can’t hear. We need to get you somewhere safe.” He kept moving forward.

“Tom !” She yelled. He stopped and turned around. “I got engaged.”

 Tom stared at her, his heart slowly breaking in his chest. “You need to make the choice right now Hermione.”

“So do you.”

“I already made it.”

 People were pushing, stomping on her feet, screaming slurs at the politicians, and she could hear her name being called by Ron from afar.

“You, always you.” She said in a hurry, feeling like time was collapsing. She didn’t have to think, it was a foregone conclusion.

“We leave tonight. No. Right now.”

“I can’t do that, I need to say goodbye.”

“You’re going to forget about me Hermione. I won’t let you do that. Something is wrong, I keep forgetting you more and more Hermione, and I think you do too. I feel like if I leave with you right now, I will lose you forever.”

 Hermione could only agree with what he was saying. She opened her bag, her hands shaking, and took out a pen.

“Write your name on my hand. Quick do it.” She ordered him.

“What ?”

“Write your name !” She shouted.

 Tom took it and started writing.

“You’re here.” Hermione saw Ron coming her way, her stomach was in knots, her eyes were wide open in panic. Her Complete took her by the arm and pulled her back. She felt the pen leaving her hand and Tom’s face. He tried to reach for her but people were blocking the way.

“Hermione ! Hermione !” Tom kept yelling as he saw her being taken away. He ran after her, trying to find a way through the crowd.

“I won’t forget your name. Hermione. Hermione.” Tom pushed people, without caring about anything else but her. “Hermione, Hermione. Your name is Hermi-”

 Someone violently pushed him on the ground. His head violently collided with the ground, leaving him unconscious for a couple of seconds. When he woke up and rose to his feet, he searched in the crowd.

“No, no, no. What’s her name ? No, no, no.” Tom could feel the memories slowly slipping away.

   He first forgot about the feeling of her hand in his. He forgot about how she chose him you, always you. He forgot about the way she looked at him when they were laying in bed. He could see the memories of their first time together slipping away, the softness of her skin under his fingers tips. He forgot about the dozen of restaurants they tested throughout London. He forgot about the day they rode bikes in Hyde Park. He forgot about all the small bookshop he took her to. He forgot about their dates, their jokes, their constant banter, her clothes, her perfume, her smile.

He forgot about how he tried to talk to his friends about her, getting frustrated as he couldn’t recall a thing. How his friends looked at him as if he was crazy. Then their first kiss, the taste of her. He forgot about the florist, when they realised something was wrong. He forgot when they first talked about literature in a coffee place near the Ritz, how her eyes glowed when he talked about Boris Vian. He then forgot about how he teased her at the restaurant and when she let him go first because he was already late for work. He slowly forgot about the first time he met her, the way she shouted at him, or when he draped his coat on her shoulders. Finally, he forgot about her. He forgot everything concerning her.

 “What am I doing here ?” He wondered out loud.

  **********

 “Easy, easy.” Ron soothed her. Hermione slowly opened her eyes and found herself sitting on her couch, in her house. She couldn’t remember how she got here, why Ron was kneeling in front of her, a worried expression on his face.

“What happened ?” She slowly slurred.

“Don’t move, I’ll make you some tea, love. Do you need anything else ?”

“No, I have everything I ever wanted.” She smiled lovingly at him.

 He kissed her forehead and left for the kitchen. Hermione slowly rose and went to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror and put her hair in a bun. As she lowered her hands, she caught a glimpse of her engagement ring. She smiled at the memory of the Burrow’s garden, the candles, and Ron.

 She turned her hand around and saw something written on the palm.

 I love you. T

 She furrowed her brows trying to find out where this came from. She couldn’t remember. She simply washed it away.

 _____________________________________________________________________

For those who read DDM, we didn't abandoned it. We are current writing Chp 16 BUT it's a pain in the arse (not going to lie). We'll try to post it as soon as possible.

[lesbianspn]

1x01 “Pilot”: SPN With Lesbians

Changed from men to women:

- Dana Winchester - Samantha Winchester aka “Sammie”/“Sam” - Jean Winchester - Azazel(’s vessel) - Josie Welch - Others: Tammy Squire, Deputy Jaffe, Luisa, Motel Clerk, Deputy Hein

Stayed as women:

- Mary Winchester - Jessica Moore - Constance Welch - Amy Hein

Original transcript

PROLOGUE

EXT. HOUSE – NIGHT

 Lawrence, Kansas

22 years ago

 Crickets chirp. A large deciduous tree with no leaves stands outside one of several suburban homes.

 INT. NURSERY – NIGHT

 A WOMAN, MARY WINCHESTER, wearing a white nightgown, carries a SMALL CHILD, her daughter DANA, into a dark room.

 MARY

Come on, let's say good night to your sister.

MARY turns on the lights: it's the nursery of a BABY, SAMANTHA, who is lying in her crib and looking over at MARY and DANA. MARY sets DANA down. DANA leans over the side of the crib and kisses SAMANTHA on the forehead.

 DANA

'Night, Sam.

 MARY leans over SAMANTHA as well.

 MARY

Good night, love.

 MARY brushes SAMANTHA's hair back and kisses her forehead.

 WOMAN

Hey, Dana.

 DANA turns. The WOMAN in the doorway wearing a USMC T-shirt is JEAN. DANA rushes over to her.

 DANA

Mommy!

 JEAN

Hey, darlin’.

 JEAN scoops DANA up.

 JEAN

So what do you think? You think Sammie's ready to toss around a football yet?

 DANA shakes her head, laughing.

 DANA

No, Mommy.

 JEAN laughs.

 JEAN

No.

 MARY passes JEAN and DANA on the way out of the room.

 MARY

You got her?

 JEAN

I got her.

 JEAN hugs DANA closer.

 JEAN

Sweet dreams, Sammie.

 JEAN carries DANA out of the room, flipping off the lights. SAMANTHA watches them go, gurgling, then tries to reach her toes.

 The baseball-themed mobile above SAMANTHA's crib begins to spin on its own while SAMANTHA watches. The transportation-themed clock on the wall ticks, ticks, stops. The moon-shaped nightlight flickers.

 INT. MASTER BEDROOM – NIGHT

 Lights flicker on a baby monitor sitting on a nightstand next to a photo of MARY and JEAN. Strange noises come through the monitor. MARY, asleep in bed, stirs. She turns on the light on the nightstand.

 MARY

Jean?

 MARY turns: she's alone. She gets up.

 INT. HALLWAY – NIGHT

 MARY walks down the hall to SAMANTHA's nursery. JEAN, seen only in silhouette, stands over SAMANTHA's crib.

 MARY

Jean? Is she hungry?

 JEAN turns her head.

 WOMAN

Shhh.

 MARY

All right.

 MARY heads back down the hallway. The light by the stairs is flickering. MARY frowns and goes to tap at it till the light steadies.

 MARY

Hm.

 More flickering light is coming from downstairs: MARY investigates. A war movie is on TV and JEAN has fallen asleep watching it. If JEAN is here, MARY realizes, then the WOMAN upstairs cannot be JEAN and must be a danger. She runs back upstairs.

 MARY

Sammie! Sammie!

 MARY enters SAMANTHA's nursery and stops short.

 INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

 Upstairs, MARY screams. JEAN wakes up.

 JEAN

Mary?

 JEAN scrambles out of the chair.

 JEAN

Mary!

 JEAN runs upstairs.

 INT. NURSERY – NIGHT

 JEAN bursts through the closed door of the nursery.

 JEAN

Mary.

 The room is quiet and appears empty except for SAMANTHA awake in her crib and JEAN. JEAN glances around and pushes down the side of SAMANTHA's crib.

 JEAN

Hey, Sammie. You okay?

 Something dark drips next to SAMANTHA. JEAN touches it. Two more drops land on the back of JEAN's hand. It looks like blood. JEAN looks up. MARY is sprawled across the ceiling, the stomach of her nightgown red with blood, staring at JEAN and struggling to breathe. JEAN collapses onto the floor, staring at MARY.

 JEAN

No! Mary!

 MARY bursts into flame. The fire spreads over the ceiling. JEAN stares, frozen. SAMANTHA wails. JEAN, reminded she's not alone, gets up and scoops SAMANTHA out of her crib and rushes out of the room.

 INT. HALLWAY – NIGHT

 DANA is awake and coming to investigate.

 DANA

Mommy!

 JEAN shoves SAMANTHA at DANA.

 JEAN

Take your sister outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dana, go!

 DANA turns and runs. JEAN turns back to the nursery.

 JEAN

Mary!

 The entire room is on fire. MARY herself can barely be seen.

 JEAN

No!

 EXT. HOUSE – NIGHT

 DANA runs outside, holding SAMANTHA.

 DANA

It's okay, Sammie.

 DANA turns to look up at SAMANTHA's window, which is lit with gold.

 JEAN runs outside, scoops up DANA and SAMANTHA, and carries them both away.

 JEAN

I gotcha.

 Fire explodes out of SAMANTHA's nursery window.

 EXT. HOUSE – NIGHT, LATER

 The Lawrence fire department has arrived. A FIREFIGHTER gets out of a fire truck and takes over at the gauges for another firefighter.

 FIREFIGHTER

I got it. You go hold the line up.

 The second firefighter goes to the back of the truck and takes a hose from a third firefighter. That firefighter takes the hose towards the house where a fourth firefighter is spraying through SAMANTHA's nursery window. A paramedic opens the back of an ambulance. A POLICE OFFICER waves some neighbors back.

 OFFICER

Stay back. You have to stay back.

 Across the street from the house, JEAN and DANA sit on the hood of JEAN's Impala, JEAN holding SAMANTHA. JEAN looks up at the remnants of the fire.

 ACT ONE

Stanford University

Present Day

 It is 31 Oct 2005.

 "Gasoline" by Ginger begins to play.

 APARTMENT

INT. BEDROOM – DAY

 YOUNG WOMAN

Sam!

 The YOUNG WOMAN, JESS, comes around a corner; she is wearing a sexy-nurse costume and adjusting her hat. The photo of MARY and JEAN from earlier is on the dresser.

 JESS

Get a move on, would you?

 MUSIC

I've been shot from a cannon

 JESS

We were supposed to be there like fifteen minutes ago.

 JESS walks off.

 JESS

Sam!

 MUSIC

I'm a human cannonball

 JESS

You coming or what?

 A YOUNG WOMAN pokes her head around the corner; this is SAMANTHA. She's wearing jeans and three shirts, not a costume.

 SAMANTHA

Do I have to?

 JESS

Yes!

 MUSIC

I'm gonna fly high

 JESS

It'll be fun.

 SAMANTHA comes into the room.

 JESS

And where's your costume?

 MUSIC

I'm gonna fall fall fall

 SAMANTHA laughs and ducks her head.

 SAMANTHA

You know how I feel about Halloween.

 PARTY

INT. BAR – NIGHT

 Classic's "What Cha Gonna Do" begins to play.

 MUSIC

Show me whatcha gonna do

Yeah whatcha gonna do

Are you trying to get in

Yeah whatcha gonna do

 The bar is decorated for Halloween (including a gargoyle with cobwebs and a baseball hat that says "GET NAKED"). Someone pours someone else a shot. Everyone is in costume.

 MUSIC

Are you gonna ride

 JESS raises a glass as a YOUNG WOMAN in a ghoul costume, LUISA, comes up to the table where SAMANTHA and JESS are. SAMANTHA is still not in costume.

 JESS

So here's to Sam—

 MUSIC

Baby

 JESS

—and her awesome LSAT victory.

 SAMANTHA

All right, all right, it's not that big a deal.

 JESS, SAMANTHA, and LUISA clink glasses.

 JESS

Yeah, she acts all humble.

 JESS

But she scored a one seventy-four.

 LUISA drinks her shot and so does SAMANTHA.

 LUISA

Is that good?

 JESS

Scary good.

 JESS drinks.

 LUISA

So there you go. You are a first-round draft pick. You can go to any law school you want!

 LUISA sits next to SAMANTHA.

 R.D. CALL

 SAMANTHA

Actually, I got an interview here. Monday. If it goes okay I think I got a shot at a full ride next year.

 JESS

Hey. It's gonna go great.

 SAMANTHA

It better.

 LUISA

How does it feel to be the golden boy of your family?

 SAMANTHA

Ah, they don't know.

 LUISA

Oh, no, I would be gloating! Why not?

 SAMANTHA

Because we're not exactly the Bradys.

 LUISA

And I'm not exactly the Huxtables. More shots?

 JESS and SAMANTHA speak in chorus.

 JESS and SAMANTHA

No. No.

 SAMANTHA

No.

 LUISA goes up to the bar anyway.

 JESS

No, seriously. I'm proud of you. And you're gonna knock 'em dead on Monday—

 JESS

—and you're gonna get that full ride. I know it.

 SAMANTHA

What would I do without you?

 JESS

Crash and burn.

 JESS smiles and pulls SAMANTHA in for a kiss.

 MUSIC

Are you trying to get in

Yeah whatcha gonna do

 APARTMENT

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

 MUSIC

Are you gonna ride baby

 SAMANTHA and JESS lie in bed, asleep back to back. JESS shifts position.

 A sound outside the room, like a window opening. SAMANTHA opens her eyes.

 INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT

 SAMANTHA leaves the bedroom and looks around the apartment.

 Executive Producer

DAVID NUTTER

 A window is open; earlier it must have been closed. Footsteps. A WOMAN walks past the strings of beads at the far end of the hall. SAMANTHA moves to another part of the apartment and waits. The WOMAN enters the room. SAMANTHA lunges forward and grabs the WOMAN at the shoulder. The WOMAN knocks SAMANTHA's arm away and aims a strike at SAMANTHA, who ducks. The WOMAN grabs SAMANTHA's arm, swings her around, and shoves her back. SAMANTHA kicks and is blocked, then pushed back into another room. If the WOMAN hadn't seen SAMANTHA's face before, she sees it now; SAMANTHA gets her first glimpse of the WOMAN. The WOMAN elbows SAMANTHA in the face; SAMANTHA kicks at her head. The WOMAN ducks and swings and SAMANTHA blocks. The WOMAN knocks SAMANTHA down and pins her to the floor, one hand at SAMANTHA's neck and the other holding SAMANTHA's wrist.

 WOMAN

Whoa, easy, tiger.

 SAMANTHA breathes hard.

 SAMANTHA

Dana?

 DANA laughs.

 SAMANTHA

You scared the crap out of me!

 DANA

That's 'cause you're out of practice.

 SAMANTHA grabs DANA's hand and yanks, slamming her heel into DANA's back and DANA to the floor.

 DANA

Or not.

 SAMANTHA taps DANA twice where SAMANTHA is holding her.

 DANA

Get off of me.

 SAMANTHA rolls to her feet and pulls DANA up.

 SAMANTHA

What the hell are you doing here?

 DANA

Well, I was looking for a beer.

 DANA puts her hands on SAMANTHA's shoulders, shakes once, and lets go.

 SAMANTHA

What the hell are you doing here?

 DANA

Okay. All right. We gotta talk.

 SAMANTHA

Uh, the phone?

 DANA

If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?

 JESS turns the light on. She is wearing very short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt.

 JESS

Sam?

 SAMANTHA and DANA turn their heads in unison.

 SAMANTHA

Jess. Hey. Dana, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.

 DANA looks at her appreciatively.

 JESS

Wait, your sister Dana?

 JESS smiles. SAMANTHA nods. DANA grins at her and moves closer.

 DANA

Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my sister's league.

 JESS

Just let me put something on.

 JESS turns to go. DANA's voice stops her.

 DANA

No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously.

 DANA goes back over to SAMANTHA without taking her eyes off JESS. SAMANTHA watches her, her expression stony.

 DANA

Anyway, I gotta borrow your girlfriend here, talk about some private family business.

 DANA

But, uh, nice meeting you.

 SAMANTHA

No.

 SAMANTHA goes over to JESS and puts an arm around her.

 SAMANTHA

No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.

 DANA

Okay.

 DANA turns to look at them both straight on.

 DANA

Um. Mom hasn't been home in a few days.

 SAMANTHA

So she's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. She'll stumble back in sooner or later.

 DANA ducks her head and looks back up.

 DANA

Mother's on a hunting trip. And she hasn't been home in a few days.

 SAMANTHA's expression doesn't change while she takes this in. JESS glances up at her.

 SAMANTHA

Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside.

 OUTSIDE APARTMENT

INT. STAIRWELL – NIGHT

 SAMANTHA and DANA head downstairs. SAMANTHA has put on jeans and a hoodie.

 SAMANTHA

I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you.

 DANA

You're not hearing me, Sammie. Mother's missing. I need you to help me find her.

 SAMANTHA

You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? She was missing then, too. She's always missing, and she's always fine.

 DANA stops and turns around. SAMANTHA stops too.

 DANA

Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with me or not?

 SAMANTHA

I'm not.

 DANA

Why not?

 SAMANTHA

I swore I was done hunting. For good.

 DANA

Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad.

 DANA starts downstairs again. SAMANTHA follows.

 SAMANTHA

Yeah? When I told Jean I was scared of the thing in my closet, she gave me a .45.

 DANA stops at the door to the outside.

 DANA

Well, what was she supposed to do?

 SAMANTHA

I was nine years old! She was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.

 DANA

Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there.

 SAMANTHA

Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Jean's obsession to find the thing that killed her.

 DANA glances outside.

 SAMANTHA

But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find.

 DANA

We save a lot of people doing it, too.

 A pause.

 SAMANTHA

You think Mom would have wanted this for us?

 DANA rolls her eyes and slams the door open.

 EXT. PARKING LOT – NIGHT

 There's a short flight of stairs from the door to the parking lot. DANA and SAMANTHA climb it.

 SAMANTHA

The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dana, we were raised like warriors.

 They cross the parking lot to the Impala from the prologue.

 DANA

So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?

 SAMANTHA

No. Not normal. Safe.

 DANA

And that's why you ran away.

 DANA looks away.

 SAMANTHA

I was just going to college. It was Jean who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.

 DANA

Yeah, well, Mother's in real trouble right now. If she's not dead already. I can feel it.

 SAMANTHA is silent.

 DANA

I can't do this alone.

 SAMANTHA

Yes you can.

 DANA looks down.

 DANA

Yeah, well, I don't want to.

 SAMANTHA sighs and looks down, thinking, then up.

 SAMANTHA

What was she hunting?

 DANA opens the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment. It's an arsenal. She props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.

 DANA

All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?

 SAMANTHA

So when Jean left, why didn't you go with her?

 DANA

I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans.

 SAMANTHA

Jean let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?

 DANA looks over at SAMANTHA.

 DANA

I'm twenty-six, dude.

 DANA pulls some papers out of a folder.

 DANA

All right, here we go. So Mother was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this chick.

 DANA hands one of the papers to SAMANTHA.

 DANA

They found her car, but she vanished. Completely MIA.

 The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined "Centennial Highway Disappearance" and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a woman's picture, captioned "Andrea Carey MISSING". SAMANTHA reads it and glances up.

 SAMANTHA

So maybe she was kidnapped.

 DANA

Yeah. Well, here's another one in April.

 DANA tosses down another Jericho Herald article for each date she mentions.

 DANA

Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years.

 DANA takes the article back from SAMANTHA and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder.

 DANA

All women, all the same five-mile stretch of road.

 DANA pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal.

 DANA

It started happening more and more, so Mother went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from her since, which is bad enough.

 DANA grabs a handheld tape recorder.

 DANA

Then I get this voicemail yesterday.

 She presses play. The recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.

 JEAN

Dana...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dana. We're all in danger.

 DANA presses stop.

 SAMANTHA

You know there's EVP on that?

 DANA

Not bad, Sammie. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?

 SAMANTHA shakes her head.

 DANA

All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.

 She presses play again.

 WOMAN

I can never go home...

 DANA presses stop.

 SAMANTHA

Never go home.

 DANA drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it.

 DANA

You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.

 SAMANTHA looks away and sighs, then looks back.

 SAMANTHA

All right. I'll go. I'll help you find her.

 DANA nods.

 SAMANTHA

But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.

 SAMANTHA turns to go back to the apartment. She turns back when DANA speaks.

 DANA

What's first thing Monday?

 SAMANTHA

I have this...I have an interview.

 DANA

What, a job interview? Skip it.

 SAMANTHA

It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.

 DANA

Law school?

 DANA smirks.

 SAMANTHA

So we got a deal or not?

 DANA says nothing.

 APARTMENT

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

 SAMANTHA is packing a duffel bag. She pulls out a large hook-shaped knife and slides it inside. JESS comes into the room.

 JESS

Wait, you're taking off?

 SAMANTHA looks up.

 JESS

Is this about your mother? Is she all right?

 SAMANTHA

Yeah. You know, just a little family drama.

 SAMANTHA goes over to the dresser and turns on the lamp atop it.

 JESS

Your sister said she was on some kind of hunting trip.

 JESS sits on the bed. SAMANTHA rummages in one of the drawers and comes out with a couple shirts, which go in the duffel.

 SAMANTHA

Oh, yeah, she's just deer hunting up at the cabin, she's probably got Jamie, Jane, and Josefa along with her. I'm just going to go bring her back.

 JESS

What about the interview?

 SAMANTHA

I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days.

 SAMANTHA goes around the bed. JESS gets up and follows.

 JESS

Sam, I mean, please.

 SAMANTHA stops and turns.

 JESS

Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?

 SAMANTHA laughs a little.

 SAMANTHA

I'm fine.

 JESS

It's just...you won't even talk about your family. And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? And with Monday coming up, which is kind of a huge deal.

 SAMANTHA

Hey. Everything's going to be okay. I will be back in time, I promise.

 She kisses her on the cheek and leaves.

 JESS

At least tell me where you're going.

 CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY

EXT. CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY – NIGHT

 Jericho, California

 The Eagles of Death Metal's "Speaking in Tongues" plays. A YOUNG WOMAN, TAMMY, is driving down the highway, talking on her cell phone.

 TAMMY

Amy, I can't come over tonight. Because I've got work in the morning, that's why. ...Yeah, okay, I miss it and my mom's gonna have my ass.

 A high-pitched whine. TAMMY looks over and sees a WOMAN in a white dress on the side of the road. She's moving as though dancing; she flickers, and for a moment she's gone.

 TAMMY

Hey, ah, Amy, let me call you back?

 MUSIC

I got this feeling and it's deep in my bah-tay

It gives me wiggles and it makes my rump shake

I said ho!

 TAMMY tries several times to turn off the radio, which is flickering. Nothing happens.

 MUSIC

If I should touch you

Might be electrocuted

I said ho!

Deep in your body

 TAMMY pulls up next to the WOMAN, whose dress is torn in several places, and stops, leaning across the shotgun seat.

 TAMMY

Car trouble or something?

 A long pause.

 WOMAN

Take me home?

 The voice is the same one from the altered voicemail. TAMMY opens the passenger door.

 TAMMY

Sure, get in.

 The WOMAN, who is barefoot, climbs in and closes the door.

 TAMMY

So, where do you live?

 WOMAN

At the end of Breckenridge Road.

 TAMMY nods.

 TAMMY

You coming from a Halloween party or something?

 The WOMAN's dress is very low-cut. TAMMY notices, stares, and looks away, laughing nervously.

 TAMMY

You know, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here.

 She looks at Tammy mournfully, seductively, and pulls her skirt up over her thigh.

 WOMAN

I'm with you.

 TAMMY looks away. The WOMAN takes TAMMY's chin and turns her face towards her.

 WOMAN

Do you think I'm pretty?

 TAMMY nods, eyes stuck on her cleavage.

 TAMMY

Uh...huh.

 WOMAN

Will you come home with me?

 TAMMY

Um. Hell yeah.

 She drives off.

 EXT. ABANDONED HOUSE – NIGHT

 They pull up to an old abandoned house at the end of a road. The WOMAN stares at it sadly.

 TAMMY

Come on. You don't live here.

 WOMAN

I can never go home.

 TAMMY

What are you talking about? Nobody even lives here. Where do you live?

 She turns, and the WOMAN has gone. She checks the back seat, also empty, and gets out of the car, nervous.

 TAMMY

That's good. Joke's over, okay? You want me to leave?

 TAMMY looks around: no signs of life except crickets. She walks towards the house.

 TAMMY

Hello? Hello?

 There's a picture of the WOMAN and two CHILDREN inside the house; the picture is covered in dust.

 TAMMY peers through the hole in the screen door. A bird flies at her face, scaring her into falling over. She yells, leaps to her feet, and runs back to the car. She gets in and drives off.

 EXT. CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY – NIGHT

 TAMMY looks behind her—no one's there—then in the rearview mirror. The WOMAN is in the back seat. TAMMY yells again and drives straight through a "Bridge Closed" sign, stopping about halfway across the bridge. She screams. Blood spatters the windows.

 ACT TWO

GAS STATION

EXT. GAS STATION – DAY

 It is 1 Nov 2005.

 The Impala is parked in front of a pump. "Ramblin' Man" by the Allman Brothers plays.

 MUSIC

Lord, I was born a ramblin' woman

 DANA comes out of the convenience mart carrying junk food.

 MUSIC

Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can

 SAMANTHA is sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes.

 DANA

Hey!

 SAMANTHA leans out and looks at her.

 DANA

You want breakfast?

 SAMANTHA

No, thanks.

 MUSIC

And when it's time for leavin'

 SAMANTHA

So how'd you pay for that stuff?

 MUSIC

I hope you'll understand

 SAMANTHA

You and Jean still running credit card scams?

 MUSIC

That I was born a ramblin' woman

 DANA

Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career.

 DANA puts the nozzle back on the pump.

 DANA

Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards.

 SAMANTHA

Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?

 SAMANTHA swings her legs back inside the car and closes the door.

 DANA

Uh, Betty Aframian.

 DANA gets into the driver seat and puts her soda and chips down.

 DANA

And her daughter Harriet. Scored two cards out of the deal.

 DANA closes the door.

 SAMANTHA

That sounds about right. I swear, woman, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection.

 There are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on SAMANTHA's lap; some have album art, others are hand-labeled.

 DANA

Why?

 SAMANTHA

Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two.

 SAMANTHA holds up a tape for every band she names.

 SAMANTHA

Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?

 DANA takes the box labeled Metallica from SAMANTHA.

 SAMANTHA

It's the greatest hits of mullet rock.

 DANA

Well, house rules, Sammie.

 DANA pops the tape in the player.

 DANA

Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts her cakehole.

 DANA drops the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and starts the engine.

 SAMANTHA

You know, Sammie is a chubby twelve-year-old.

 AC/DC's "Back in Black" begins to play.

 SAMANTHA

It's Sam, okay?

 DANA

Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud.

 DANA drives off.

 CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY

EXT. CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY – DAY

 MUSIC

Back in black

I hit the sack

I've been too long

I'm glad to be back

Yes I'm let loose

 They drive past a sign that says "JERICHO 7".

 MUSIC

From the noose

That's kept me hanging about

 Sam is talking on her cell phone.

 SAMANTHA

Thank you.

 SAMANTHA closes her phone.

 MUSIC

Lookin' at the sky

'Cause it's gettin' me high

 SAMANTHA

All right. So, there's no one matching Jean at the hospital or morgue.

 MUSIC

Forget the hearse 'cause I'll never die

 SAMANTHA

So that's something, I guess.

 DANA glances over at SAMANTHA, then back at the road. At a bridge ahead of them, there are two police cars and several officers.

 MUSIC

I got nine lives

Cat's eyes

Abusin' every one of them and running wild

 DANA

Check it out.

 SAMANTHA leans forward for a closer look.

 MUSIC

'Cause I'm back

Yes I'm back

 DANA pulls over. They take a long look before DANA turns off the engine. Kid Gloves Music's "My Cheatin' Ways" begins to play. DANA opens the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of ID cards with her and JEAN's faces: visible ones include FBI and DEA. She picks one out and grins at SAMANTHA, who stares.

 DANA

Let's go.

 DANA gets out of the car.

 On the bridge, the lead DEPUTY, DEPUTY JAFFE, leans over the railing to yell down to two WOMEN in wetsuits who were poking around the river.

 JAFFE

You ladies find anything?

 WOMAN

No! Nothing!

 JAFFE turns back to the car in the middle of the bridge. It's familiar: it's TAMMY's, the blood gone. Another DEPUTY, DEPUTY HEIN, is at the driver's side looking around inside the car.

 HEIN

No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean.

 DANA and SAMANTHA walk into the crime scene like they belong there.

 JAFFE

So, this kid Tammy. She's dating your daughter, isn't she?

 HEIN

Yeah.

 JAFFE

How's Amy doing?

 HEIN

She's putting up missing posters downtown.

 DANA

You gals had another one like this just last month, didn't you?

 JAFFE looks up when DANA starts talking and straightens up to talk to her.

 JAFFE

And who are you?

 DANA flashes her badge.

 DANA

Federal marshals.

 JAFFE

You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?

 DANA laughs.

 DANA

Thanks, that's awfully kind of you.

 DANA goes over to the car.

 DANA

You did have another one just like this, correct?

 JAFFE

Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.

 SAMANTHA

So, this victim, you knew her?

 JAFFE nods.

 JAFFE

Town like this, everybody knows everybody.

 DANA circles the car, looking around.

 DANA

Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all women?

 JAFFE

No. Not so far as we can tell.

 SAMANTHA

So what's the theory?

 SAMANTHA goes over to DANA.

 JAFFE

Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?

 DANA

Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys.

 SAMANTHA stomps on DANA's foot.

 SAMANTHA

Thank you for your time.

 SAMANTHA starts to walk away. DANA follows.

 SAMANTHA

Ladies.

 JAFFE watches them go. DANA smacks SAMANTHA on the head.

 SAMANTHA

Ow! What was that for?

 DANA

Why'd you have to step on my foot?

 SAMANTHA

Why do you have to talk to the police like that?

 DANA looks at SAMANTHA and moves in front of her, forcing SAMANTHA to stop walking.

 DANA

Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Mother we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves.

 SAMANTHA clears her throat and looks over DANA's shoulder. DANA turns. It's SHERIFF PIERCE and two FBI AGENTS.

 SHERIFF

Can I help you gals?

 DANA

No, ma’am, we were just leaving.

 As the FBI AGENTS walk past DANA, she nods at each of them.

 DANA

Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.

 DANA and SAMANTHA head past the SHERIFF, who turns to watch them go.

 JERICHO

EXT. STREET – DAY

 The marquee on the Highland Movie Theater reads:

 EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING

SUNDAY 8 PM

BE SAFE OUT THERE

 A YOUNG WOMAN is tacking up posters with TAMMY's face and the caption "MISSING TAMMY SQUIRE". DANA and SAMANTHA approach.

 DANA

I'll bet you that's her.

 SAMANTHA

Yeah.

 DANA and SAMANTHA walk up to the YOUNG WOMAN.

 DANA

You must be Amy.

 AMY

Yeah.

 DANA

Yeah, Tammy told us about you. We're her aunts. I'm Dana, this is Samantha.

 AMY

She never mentioned you to me.

 AMY walks away. DANA and SAMANTHA walk with her.

 DANA

Well, that's Tammy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto.

 SAMANTHA

So, we're looking for her too, and we're kinda asking around.

 Another YOUNG WOMAN, RACHEL, comes up to AMY and puts a hand on her arm.

 RACHEL

Hey, are you okay?

 AMY

Yeah.

 SAMANTHA

You mind if we ask you a couple questions?

 Another poster that says MISSING TAMMY SQUIRE flaps in the breeze.

 INT. DINER – DAY

 The four of them are sitting in a booth, DANA and SAMANTHA opposite AMY and RACHEL.

 AMY

I was on the phone with Tammy. She was driving home. She said she would call me right back, and...she never did.

 SAMANTHA

She didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?

 AMY shakes her head.

 AMY

No. Nothing I can remember.

 SAMANTHA

I like your necklace.

 AMY holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it.

 AMY

Tammy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—

 AMY laughs.

 AMY

—with all that devil stuff.

 SAMANTHA laughs a little and looks down, then up. DANA looks over.

 SAMANTHA

Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.

 DANA

Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries.

 DANA takes her arm off the back of SAMANTHA's seat and leans forward.

 DANA

Here's the deal, ladies. The way Tammy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything...

 AMY and RACHEL look at each other.

 DANA

What is it?

 RACHEL

Well, it's just... I mean, with all these girls going missing, people talk.

 DANA and SAMANTHA speak in chorus.

 DANA and SAMANTHA

What do they talk about?

 RACHEL

It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago.

 DANA looks at SAMANTHA, who watches RACHEL attentively, nodding.

 RACHEL

Well, supposedly she's still out there.

 SAMANTHA nods.

 RACHEL

She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.

 SAMANTHA and DANA look at each other.

 LIBRARY

INT. LIBRARY – DAY

 A web browser is open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. The words "Female Murder Hitchhiking" are typed into the search box. DANA clicks GO; the screen tells her there are "(0) Result". DANA replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway" with the same response. SAMANTHA is sitting next to her, watching.

 SAMANTHA

Let me try.

 DANA smacks SAMANTHA's hand.

 DANA

I got it.

 SAMANTHA shoves DANA's chair out of the way and takes over.

 DANA

Dude!

 DANA hits SAMANTHA in the shoulder.

 DANA

You're such a control freak.

 SAMANTHA

So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?

 DANA

Yeah.

 SAMANTHA

Well, maybe it's not murder.

 SAMANTHA replaces "Murder" with "Suicide" and finds an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". DANA glances at SAMANTHA. SAMANTHA opens the article, dated April 25, 1981.

 A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night.

Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several [minutes]. She reported that their complex-[...]

What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for Constance. Our babies were gone, and she just couldn't bear it," said wife Josie Welch. "Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time."

At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Josie Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where she works the graveyard shift as associate manager.

"Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew," said Dean Kripke, a neighbor. "She just doted on those children."

SAMANTHA

This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.

 There's a picture of CONSTANCE; it's the WOMAN who killed TAMMY.

 DANA

Does it say why she did it?

 SAMANTHA

Yeah.

 DANA

What?

 SAMANTHA

An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die.

 DANA raises her eyebrows.

 DANA

Hm.

 The article has a picture of Josie next to a picture of Sylvania Bridge; it's the place TAMMY died.

 SAMANTHA

"'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said wife Josie Welch."

 DANA

The bridge look familiar to you?

 SYLVANIA BRIDGE

EXT. SYLVANIA BRIDGE – NIGHT

 DANA and SAMANTHA walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river.

 DANA

So this is where Constance took the swan dive.

 SAMANTHA

So you think Jean would have been here?

 SAMANTHA looks over at DANA.

 DANA

Well, she's chasing the same story and we're chasing her.

 DANA continues walking. SAMANTHA follows.

 SAMANTHA

Okay, so now what?

 DANA

Now we keep digging until we find her. Might take a while.

 SAMANTHA stops.

 SAMANTHA

Dana, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—

 DANA turns around.

 DANA

Monday. Right. The interview.

 SAMANTHA

Yeah.

 DANA

Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?

 SAMANTHA

Maybe. Why not?

 DANA

Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?

 SAMANTHA steps closer.

 SAMANTHA

No, and she's not ever going to know.

 DANA

Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammie. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.

 DANA turns around and keeps walking. SAMANTHA follows.

 SAMANTHA

And who's that?

 DANA

You're one of us.

 SAMANTHA hurries to get in front of DANA.

 SAMANTHA

No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.

 DANA

You have a responsibility to—

 SAMANTHA

To Jean? And her crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.

 DANA grabs SAMANTHA by the collar and shoves her up against the railing of the bridge. A long pause.

 DANA

Don't talk about her like that.

 DANA releases SAMANTHA and walks away. She sees CONSTANCE standing at the edge of the bridge.

 DANA

Sam.

 SAMANTHA comes to stand next to DANA. CONSTANCE looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge. SAMANTHA and DANA run to the railing and look over.

 DANA

Where'd she go?

 SAMANTHA

I don't know.

 Behind them, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. DANA and SAMANTHA turn to look.

 DANA

What the—

 SAMANTHA

Who's driving your car?

 DANA pulls the keys out of her pocket and jingles them. SAMANTHA glances at them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them. They turn and run.

 SAMANTHA

Dana? Go! Go!

 The car is moving faster than they are; when it gets too close, SAMANTHA and DANA dive over the railing. The car comes to a halt.

 ACT THREE

SYLVANIA BRIDGE

EXT. SYLVANIA BRIDGE – NIGHT

 Establishing shot of the bridge.

 SAMANTHA has caught herself on the edge of the bridge and is hanging on. She pulls herself up onto the bridge and looks around.

 SAMANTHA

Dana? Dana!

 Below, a filthy and annoyed DANA crawls out of the water and onto the mud, panting.

 DANA

What?

 SAMANTHA

Hey! Are you all right?

 DANA holds up one hand in an A-OK sign.

 DANA

I'm super.

 SAMANTHA laughs, relieved, and scoots away from the edge.

 EXT. SYLVANIA BRIDGE – NIGHT, LATER

 DANA shuts the hood of her car and leans on it.

 SAMANTHA

Your car all right?

 DANA

Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!

 SAMANTHA

Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?

 SAMANTHA settles on the hood next to DANA. DANA throws up her arms in frustration, then flicks mud off her hands. SAMANTHA sniffs, then looks at DANA.

 SAMANTHA

You smell like a toilet.

 DANA looks down.

 MOTEL

INT. MOTEL LOBBY – DAY

 It is 2 Nov 2005.

 A VersaBank MasterCard in the name of Harriet Aframian lands on a handwritten guest ledger.

 DANA

One room, please.

 DANA is standing at the motel check-in desk, still filthy, with SAMANTHA right behind her. The CLERK picks up the card and looks at it.

 CLERK

You girls having a reunion or something?

 SAMANTHA

What do you mean?

 CLERK

I had another woman, Betty Aframian. She came and bought out a room for the whole month.

 DANA looks back at SAMANTHA.

 JEAN'S ROOM

INT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY

 The motel door swings open. SAMANTHA is on the other side, having just picked the lock. SAMANTHA hides the picks and stands up. DANA is just outside, playing lookout, until SAMANTHA reaches out of the room to grab her shoulder and yank her inside. SAMANTHA closes the door behind them. They look around—every vertical surface has papers pinned to it: maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, notes. There are books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol.

 SAMANTHA

Whoa.

 DANA turns on a light by the bed and picks up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there. SAMANTHA steps over a line of salt on the floor. DANA sniffs the burger and recoils.

 DANA

I don't think she's been here for a couple days at least.

 SAMANTHA fingers the salt on the floor and looks up.

 SAMANTHA

Salt, cats-eye shells...she was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.

 DANA looks at the papers covering one wall.

 SAMANTHA

What have you got here?

 DANA

Centennial Highway victims.

 SAMANTHA nods. The victims seen on the wall include Martha somebody, Billie Durrell, Scarlet Nifong who disappeared in 1987 at age 25, and somebody Parks. Martha, Durrell, and Nifong are all white males, judging by the photos.

 DANA

I don't get it. I mean, different women, different jobs—

 SAMANTHA crosses the room.

 DANA

—ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these chicks have in common?

 While DANA talks, SAMANTHA looks at the papers taped to the other walls. There's something about the Bell Witch, two people being burned alive, a skeletal person blowing a horn at several scared people with the note "MORTIS DANSE", a column about "Devils + Demons", another about "Sirens, Witches, the possessed", a wooden pentacle, and a note that says "Woman in White" above a printout of the Jericho Herald article on CONSTANCE's suicide.

 SAMANTHA turns on another lamp.

 SAMANTHA

Jean figured it out.

 DANA turns to look.

 DANA

What do you mean?

 SAMANTHA

She found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white.

 DANA looks at the photos of CONSTANCE's victims.

 DANA

You sly dogs.

 DANA turns back to SAMANTHA.

 DANA

All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Mother would have found the corpse and destroyed it.

 SAMANTHA

She might have another weakness.

 DANA

Well, Mother would want to make sure.

 DANA crosses to SAMANTHA.

 DANA

She'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?

 SAMANTHA

No, not that I can tell. If I were Jean, though, I'd go ask her wife.

 SAMANTHA taps the picture of JOSIE WELCH. The caption says she's thirty; the article dates to 1981, so she must be sixty-four.

 SAMANTHA

If she's still alive.

 SAMANTHA goes to look at something else. DANA looks at the picture below the Herald article, of a woman in a white dress.

 DANA

All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up.

 DANA starts to walk away. SAMANTHA turns.

 SAMANTHA

Hey, Dana?

 DANA stops and turns back.

 SAMANTHA

What I said earlier, about Mom and Jean, I'm sorry.

 DANA holds up a hand.

 DANA

No chick-flick moments.

 SAMANTHA laughs and nods.

 SAMANTHA

All right. Jerk.

 DANA

Asshole.

 SAMANTHA laughs again. DANA disappears, presumably into the bathroom. SAMANTHA notices something, her smile disappearing, and crosses over for a closer look. A rosary hangs in front of a large mirror, and stuck into the mirror frame is a photo of JEAN sitting on the hood of the Impala, next to a GIRL in a baseball cap who is presumably DANA and with a YOUNGER GIRL, presumably SAMANTHA, on JEAN's lap. SAMANTHA takes the photo off the mirror and holds it, smiling sadly.

 MOTEL

INT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY, LATER

 SAMANTHA paces, holding her phone, and sits down on the bed. A voicemail message is playing.

 JESS

Hey, it's me, it's about ten-twenty Saturday night—

 DANA, clean again, comes out of the bathroom and grabs her jacket. She shrugs it on one shoulder as she crosses the room.

 DANA

Hey, woman. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?

 SAMANTHA

No.

 DANA

Aframian's buying.

 SAMANTHA shakes her head.

 SAMANTHA

Mm-mm.

 EXT. PARKING LOT – DAY

 DANA leaves the motel room. She gets the jacket the rest of the way on as she crosses the lot. She looks over and sees a police car, where the MOTEL CLERK is talking to DEPUTY JAFFE and DEPUTY HEIN. The CLERK points at DANA, who turns away and pulls out her cell phone.

 INT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY and EXT. PARKING LOT – DAY, alternating

 SAMANTHA is sitting on the bed, still listening to the message.

 JESS

So come home soon, okay? I love you.

 The phone beeps. SAMANTHA looks at it and presses a button, then puts it back to her ear.

 SAMANTHA

What?

 Outside, the DEPUTIES are approaching DANA.

 DANA

Dude, five-oh, take off.

 SAMANTHA stands up.

 SAMANTHA

What about you?

 DANA

Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Mother.

 DANA hangs up the phone as the DEPUTIES approach. She turns and grins at them.

 DANA

Problem, officers?

 JAFFE

Where's your partner?

 DANA

Partner? What, what partner?

 JAFFE glances over her shoulder and jerks her thumb towards the motel room. HEIN heads over there. DANA fidgets.

 SAMANTHA sees HEIN approaching and darts away from the window.

 JAFFE

So. Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?

 DANA

My tits.

 DANA grins.

 HEIN slams Dana over the hood of the cop car.

 JAFFE

You have the right to remain silent—

 ACT FOUR

SHERIFF'S OFFICE

INT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE – DAY

 SHERIFF PIERCE enters the room, carrying a box. She sets the box on the table at which DANA sits and goes around the table to face DANA across it.

 SHERIFF

So you want to give us your real name?

 DANA

I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent.

 SHERIFF

I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here.

 DANA

We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?

 SHERIFF

You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall.

 DANA looks away.

 SHERIFF

Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Lady, you are officially a suspect.

 DANA

That makes sense. Because when the first one went missing in '82 I was three.

 SHERIFF

I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older lady. Maybe she started the whole thing. So tell me. Dana.

 The SHERIFF tosses a brown leather-covered journal on the table.

 SHERIFF

This her?

 DANA stares at it. The SHERIFF sits on the edge of the table. She flips through the journal: it's filled with newspaper clippings, notes, and pictures, just like what's on the walls of JEAN's motel room.

 SHERIFF

I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out—I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy.

 DANA leans forward for a closer look.

 SHERIFF

But I found this, too.

 She opens the journal to a page that reads "DANA 35-111", circled, with nothing else on that page.

 SHERIFF

Now. You're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means.

 DANA stares down at the page, then looks up.

 WELCH HOUSE

INT. HOUSE – DAY

 SAMANTHA, seen through the chain-link covering a grimy glass window, knocks on the door the window is in. An OLD WOMAN opens it: it's recognizably JOSIE WELCH.

 SAMANTHA

Hi. Are you Josie Welch?

 JOSIE

Yeah.

 EXT. DRIVEWAY – DAY

 SAMANTHA and JOSIE are walking down the junk-filled driveway, JOSIE holding the photo SAMANTHA found on JEAN's motel room mirror.

 JOSIE

Yeah, she was older, but that's her.

 JOSIE hands the photo back to SAMANTHA.

 JOSIE

She came by three or four days ago. Said she was a reporter.

 SAMANTHA

That's right. We're working on a story together.

 JOSIE

Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions she asked me?

 SAMANTHA

About your wife Constance?

 JOSIE

She asked me where Connie was buried.

 SAMANTHA

And where is that again?

 JOSIE

What, I gotta go through this twice?

 SAMANTHA

It's fact-checking. If you don't mind.

 JOSIE

In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.

 SAMANTHA

And why did you move?

 JOSIE

I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died.

 SAMANTHA stops walking. JOSIE stops too.

 SAMANTHA

Ms. Welch, did you ever marry again?

 JOSIE

No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known.

 SAMANTHA

So you had a happy marriage?

 JOSIE hesitates.

 JOSIE

Definitely.

 SAMANTHA

Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time.

 SAMANTHA turns toward the Impala. JOSIE walks away. SAMANTHA waits a moment, then looks back up at JOSIE.

 SAMANTHA

Ms. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?

 JOSIE turns around.

 JOSIE

A what?

 SAMANTHA

A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?

 JOSIE just looks.

 SAMANTHA

It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really.

 SAMANTHA starts back toward JOSIE.

 SAMANTHA

Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women.

 SAMANTHA stops in front of JOSIE.

 SAMANTHA

You understand. But all share the same story.

 JOSIE

Young lady, I don't care much for nonsense.

 JOSIE walks away. SAMANTHA follows.

 SAMANTHA

See, when they were alive, their wives were unfaithful to them.

 JOSIE stops.

 SAMANTHA

And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.

 JOSIE turns around.

 SAMANTHA

Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful woman, they kill her. And that woman is never seen again.

 JOSIE

You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!

 SAMANTHA

You tell me.

 JOSIE

I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!

 JOSIE's face shakes, whether from anger or grief it's impossible to tell. After a long moment, she turns away. SAMANTHA sighs.

 SHERIFF'S OFFICE

INT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE – NIGHT

 DANA

I don't know how many times I gotta tell you. It's my high school locker combo.

 SHERIFF PIERCE is still interrogating DANA over the "DANA 35-111" page.

 SHERIFF

We gonna do this all night long?

 A DEPUTY leans into the room.

 DEPUTY

We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road.

 SHERIFF

You have to go to the bathroom?

 DANA

No.

 SHERIFF

Good.

 The SHERIFF handcuffs Dana to the table and leaves. DANA sees a paper clip poking out of the journal, pulls it out, and looks at it. Moments later, as the SHERIFF and DEPUTY are gearing up to leave, she is out of the cuffs. DANA watches through the window in the door, ducks out of sight as the DEPUTY approaches the door, and waits.

 EXT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE – NIGHT

 DANA climbs down the fire escape, carrying JEAN's journal.

 HIGHWAY

EXT. HIGHWAY – NIGHT and EXT. STREET – NIGHT, alternating

 SAMANTHA is driving the IMPALA when her phone rings. She pulls it out and answers it. DANA is in a phone booth; apparently her phone was confiscated and she didn't take the time to steal it back.

 DANA

Fake 911 phone call? Sammie, I don't know, that's pretty illegal.

 SAMANTHA

You're welcome.

 SAMANTHA grins.

 DANA

Listen, we gotta talk.

 SAMANTHA

Tell me about it. So the wife was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Jean's next stop.

 DANA

Sammie, would you shut up for a second?

 SAMANTHA

I just can't figure out why Jean hasn't destroyed the corpse yet.

 DANA

Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. She's gone. Mother left Jericho.

 SAMANTHA

What? How do you know?

 DANA

I've got her journal.

 SAMANTHA

She doesn't go anywhere without that thing.

 DANA

Yeah, well, she did this time.

 SAMANTHA

What's it say?

 DANA

Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when she wants to let us know where she's going.

 SAMANTHA

Coordinates. Where to?

 DANA

I'm not sure yet.

 SAMANTHA

I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Jean would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dana, what the hell is going on?

 SAMANTHA looks up and slams the brake, dropping the phone: CONSTANCE appeared on the road in front of her. The car goes right through her as SAMANTHA brings it to a halt.

 DANA

Sam? Sam!

 Inside the car, SAMANTHA breathes hard. CONSTANCE is sitting in the back seat.

 CONSTANCE

Take me home.

 ACT FIVE

HIGHWAY

EXT. HIGHWAY – NIGHT

 CONSTANCE

Take me home!

 SAMANTHA

No.

 CONSTANCE glares and the doors lock themselves. SAMANTHA struggles to reopen them. The gas pedal presses down and the car begins to drive itself. SAMANTHA tries to steer, but CONSTANCE is doing that too. SAMANTHA continues to try to get the door open. In the back seat, CONSTANCE flickers.

 BRECKENRIDGE ROAD

EXT. ABANDONED HOUSE – NIGHT

 The car pulls up in front of CONSTANCE's house and stops. The engine shuts off and so do the lights.

 SAMANTHA

Don't do this.

 CONSTANCE flickers. Her voice is sad.

 CONSTANCE

I can never go home.

 SAMANTHA

You're scared to go home.

 SAMANTHA looks back and CONSTANCE isn't there. She glances around and back and sees CONSTANCE in the shotgun seat. CONSTANCE climbs into her lap, shoving her back against the seat hard enough to recline the seat. SAMANTHA struggles.

 CONSTANCE

Hold me. I'm so cold.

 SAMANTHA

You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!

 CONSTANCE

You will be. Just hold me.

 CONSTANCE kisses SAMANTHA as she continues to struggle, reaching for the keys. CONSTANCE pulls back and disappears, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanishes. SAMANTHA looks around for a moment, then yells in pain and yanks her hoodie open. There are five new holes burned through the fabric, matching to CONSTANCE's fingers: CONSTANCE flickers in front of her, her hand reaching into SAMANTHA’S chest. A gunshot goes off, shattering the window and startling CONSTANCE. DANA approaches, still firing at CONSTANCE. CONSTANCE glares at her and vanishes, then reappears, and DANA keeps firing until CONSTANCE disappears again. SAMANTHA manages to sit up and start the car.

 SAMANTHA

I'm taking you home.

 SAMANTHA drives forward. DANA stares after the car. SAMANTHA smashes through the side of the house. DANA hurries through the wreckage to the passenger side of the car.

 DANA

Sam! Sam! You okay?

 SAMANTHA

I think...

 DANA

Can you move?

 SAMANTHA

Yeah. Help me?

 DANA leans through the window to give SAMANTHA a hand.

 CONSTANCE picks up a large framed photograph seen when she brought TAMMY here: the WOMAN is CONSTANCE and the children are presumably hers.

 DANA helps SAMANTHA out of the car.

 DANA

There you go.

 DANA closes the car door. They look around and see CONSTANCE; she looks up. She glares at them and throws the picture down. A bureau scoots towards SAMANTHA and DANA, pinning them against the car. The lights flicker; CONSTANCE looks around, scared. Water begins to pour down the staircase. She goes over. At the top are the CHILDREN from the photograph. They hold hands and speak in chorus.

 CHILDREN

You've come home to us, Mommy.

 CONSTANCE looks at them, distraught. Suddenly they are behind her; they embrace her tightly and she screams, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, CONSTANCE and the two CHILDREN melt into a puddle in the floor. SAMANTHA and DANA shove the bureau over and go look at the spot where CONSTANCE and her CHILDREN vanished.

 DANA

So this is where she drowned her daughters.

 SAMANTHA nods.

 SAMANTHA

That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.

 DANA

You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammie.

 DANA slaps SAMANTHA on the chest where she's been injured and walks away. SAMANTHA laughs through the pain.

 SAMANTHA

Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?

 DANA

Hey. Saved your ass.

 "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC begins to play.

 DANA leans over to look at the car.

 DANA

I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?

 DANA twists around to look at SAMANTHA.

 DANA

I'll kill you.

 SAMANTHA laughs.

 HIGHWAY

EXT. HIGHWAY – NIGHT

 The Impala tears down the road; the right headlight is out.

 MUSIC

Living easy, loving free

Season ticket on a one-way ride

 SAMANTHA has the journal open to "DANA 35-111" and a map open on her lap and is finding coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between chin and shoulder.

 MUSIC

Asking nothing

 SAMANTHA

Okay, here's where Jean went.

 MUSIC

Leave me be

 SAMANTHA

It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.

 MUSIC

Taking everythin' in my stride

 DANA nods.

 DANA

Sounds charming. How far?

 MUSIC

Don't need reason

 SAMANTHA

About six hundred miles.

 MUSIC

Don't need rhyme

 DANA

Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning.

 MUSIC

Ain't nothing I would rather do

 SAMANTHA looks at her, hesitating.

 SAMANTHA

Dana, I, um...

 MUSIC

Going down

 DANA glances at the road and back.

 MUSIC

Party time

 DANA

You're not going.

 MUSIC

My friends are gonna be there too

 SAMANTHA

The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there.

 Dana nods, disappointed, and returns her attention to the road.

 DANA

Yeah. Yeah, whatever.

 DANA glances at SAMANTHA.

 DANA

I'll take you home.

 SAMANTHA turns the flashlight off. They drive on.

 MUSIC

Highway to hell

 APARTMENT

EXT. SAMANTHA'S APARTMENT BUILDING – NIGHT

 MUSIC

I'm on the highway to hell

 They pull up in front of the apartment, DANA still frowning. SAMANTHA gets out and leans over to look through the window.

 SAMANTHA

Call me if you find her?

 DANA nods.

 SAMANTHA

And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?

 DANA

Yeah, all right.

 SAMANTHA pats the car door twice and turns away. DANA leans toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat.

 DANA

Sam?

 SAMANTHA turns back.

 DANA

You know, we made a hell of a team back there.

 SAMANTHA

Yeah.

 DANA drives off. SAMANTHA watches her go and sighs.

 INT. SAMANTHA'S APARTMENT – NIGHT

 SAMANTHA lets herself in. Everything is dark and quiet.

 SAMANTHA

Jess?

 SAMANTHA closes the door.

 SAMANTHA

You home?

 SAMANTHA notices a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, with a note that reads "Missed you! Love you!", next to a National Geographic. SAMANTHA picks one up and eats it as she sneaks into the bedroom, smiling. The shower is audibly running. SAMANTHA sits on the bed, shuts her eyes, and flops onto her back.

 Blood drips onto SAMANTHA's forehead, one drop, then another; she flinches and opens her eyes. She gasps in horror: JESS is pinned to the ceiling, staring down at her and bleeding from the belly.

 SAMANTHA

No!

 JESS bursts into flame; the fire spreads across the ceiling.

 DANA kicks the front door open.

 DANA

Sam!

 SAMANTHA raises one arm to shield her face.

 SAMANTHA

Jess!

 DANA comes running into the bedroom.

 DANA

Sam! Sam!

 DANA looks up and sees JESS.

 SAMANTHA

No! No!

 DANA grabs SAMANTHA off the bed and bodily shoves her out the door, SAMANTHA struggling all the way.

 SAMANTHA

Jess! Jess! No!

 Flames engulf the apartment.

 AFTER THE FIRE

EXT. SAMANTHA'S APARTMENT – NIGHT

 In a scene much like the end of the flashback, a fire truck is parked outside the building, firefighters and police keeping back gawkers. DANA looks on, then turns and walks back to her car. SAMANTHA is standing behind the open trunk, loading a shotgun. DANA looks at the trunk, then at SAMANTHA, whose face is set in a mask of desperate anger. SAMANTHA looks up, then sighs, nods, and tosses the shotgun into the trunk.

 SAMANTHA

We got work to do.

 SAMANTHA shuts the trunk.

[iamthegaysmurf]

SMURF!!! Hi :) Prompt: “I’m seriously not that drunk.”

Both of these prompts were pretty similar, so I worked them into the same story together.

So, uh…  This one sort of got away from me.  It’s…  a lot longer than these little prompt fills are supposed to be.  >.>

Also, I know this probably isn’t what @haught0pocket and anon might have originally had in mind when they gave me these prompts, but I hope it’s still okay…  : /  

And, uh…  there might accidentally be some Feelings™ involved.  #whoops

((Set roughly a month after the events of 3x03, but before the beginning of 3x04.))

———-

Dolls has been gone for almost a month.  Alice has been gone for nearly six.  They haven’t seen hide nor hair of Bulshar since that day up on the cliff.  Everyone is on edge, and they’re all dealing with it in their own ways.

Some of them more predictably than others.

“Can you get that for me, Nic?” Waverly mumbles when her phone rings, not even looking up from the dusty tome she’s been squinting at for the past three hours.

“Sure, baby.”  Nicole rubs at the back of her neck as she pushes away from the table where she’s finishing up the day’s reports, rolling it until it cracks.  “Waverly’s phone,” she answers, unable to keep the weariness out of her voice.

“…Officer Haught?”  Doc sounds confused on the other end of the line.  “I was not expecting to speak with you this evening.”

“I’m here with Waverly, Doc,” Nicole says, slightly amused at how the new technology still trips him up sometimes.  “Is everything okay?” she asks, concern slipping back into her voice.

“Ahhh…  Well… I believe that might depend on your definition of ‘okay’.”

“What did she do now?”  Nicole groans and pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to fight off the migraine that’s been building all day.

“I am afraid to say that it might be time for Miss Waverly to come and collect her sister.”

Nicole glances over at Waverly, who’s still hunched over the grimoire, scribbling furiously in her notebook every few seconds.  Looks like she just drew the short straw for the babysitting tonight.

“Gimme ten minutes, Doc.”

“Officer Haught?”  Doc pauses, and Nicole can hear shouting in the background.  “I think it would be best if you made that five.”

Nicole ends the call and slumps back against the table.  It’s been a long fucking day and this is definitely not what she had in mind for tonight, but after watching Waverly for another minute, it’s pretty clear they won’t be heading home any time soon anyway, so she guesses a rowdy Wynonna it is.

“Hey, baby,” she says quietly, not wanting to startle Waverly.  She leans forward and presses a kiss to her temple, waiting for any indication that Waverly has heard her.  After rubbing a few soothing circles along her back, Waverly finally turns, fully focusing on Nicole for the first time in over an hour.

“Hey,” she says, almost like she forgot Nicole was even there.  Her eyes crinkle up around the edges as she smiles and leans into another kiss.  “What did I miss?” she asks, rubbing at her tired eyes.

“That was Doc on the phone,” Nicole says, rolling her eyes.  “Looks like I’ve gotta go and pour your sister into my backseat before she ends up in my holding cell again.”

“Oh…”  She glances back at the book and her notes, chewing on the end of her pencil for a moment.  “I guess I can work on this again later…”

“No, baby.  Don’t worry about it,” Nicole says, rubbing her back again.  “You keep doing…  whatever it is you’re doing.  I’ve got this.”

“Are you sure?” Waverly asks, plainly feeling guilty that Nicole is shouldering the burden of Wynonna for her.

“Of course,” Nicole answers simply.  “We all have our parts to play in this thing together, and this is something I can do.”  She leans forward and kisses Waverly’s forehead.  “Maybe I can stop by Mama Lou’s on my way back and pick us up something for Dark Lunch.  How does that sound?”

Waverly giggles at their nickname for middle-of-the-night meals when they can’t afford to sleep, but her eyes go wide when her stomach growls loudly enough to echo in the empty office.

“Uhh… yeah.  I guess that sounds pretty good,” she admits sheepishly.

“Done.”  Nicole grins and steals a proper kiss this time, then gathers up her jacket and gloves and secures the door behind her, locking Waverly safely in and the rest of the world out.

There’s no snow at the moment, but a thick layer of frost covers the ground, normally undisturbed at an hour like this, and it crunches loudly under Nicole’s boots as she makes her way across to her cruiser.  She knows that this is hitting Wynonna the hardest out of any of them, but watching her sink back into the whiskey-soaked recklessness from before, after having been sober for so long, makes the piece of her heart that’s now permanently reserved for her reluctant new sister ache like someone’s squeezing it just a little too tightly.

She wishes there was something more she could do.  But if routinely picking her up from the various local bars and making sure she gets home safe is what she needs right now, then that’s what Nicole will do.  Anything to prove that she’s here for her, and that she’s not going anywhere.

The commotion is already spilling out into the parking lot when Nicole pulls up outside Shorty’s.  Luckily, the regulars don’t seem to be in the mood for much trouble tonight, and the majority of them scatter as soon as she steps out of the cruiser and they catch sight of her uniform.  She shakes her head and rolls her eyes as she heads for the door.  In a small town like this, some things will never change.

“Ossifer Haughtie!” Wynonna slurs from atop one of the tables in the corner the second Nicole sets foot inside the saloon.  “Getchyer Haughtpants up here an’ help me show ‘em how it’s done!”

Oh, boy.  So it’s gonna be like that tonight.

Nicole glances over at Doc, who raises an eyebrow and shrugs a shoulder and tips his hat like she’s your problem now.  Nicole massages her temples against the inbound migraine, but nods at him and starts shuffling toward Wynonna’s makeshift stage.

“Time to go, Wynonna,” she says calmly, holding out a hand to help Wynonna down off the table.  Wynonna bats it away and continues to dance with her whiskey bottle in hand.  She keeps going until she stumbles, nearly toppling off the table altogether if Nicole hadn’t been there to catch her.

“I might be slightly drunk…” she admits with a snort as Nicole takes the whiskey bottle from her hand and throws Wynonna’s arm around her own shoulders so she can hold Wynonna up.  Her other arm goes around Wynonna’s waist, trying to keep her on her feet.

“Understatement of the year,” Nicole mumbles as she begins half-dragging Wynonna toward the door.

“It’s gettin’ Haught in herre…  so take off all your clothes!” Wynonna starts singing at the top of her lungs, drawing forth a round of cheers from the patrons still remaining in the bar.

Nicole looks back over her shoulder and nods at Doc as she pulls Wynonna out into the street.  The rabble from earlier has completely cleared out, and they have the entire sidewalk to themselves now.

“I am gettin’ so Haught,” Wynonna continues singing, her voice ringing out through the empty streets.  “I wanna take my clothes off!”  She starts trying to shed her leather jacket.

“If you do that,” Nicole interrupts, grabbing the jacket and sliding it back up over Wynonna’s shoulders, “you’re just going to give yourself pneumonia.”

“So what?” Wynonna mutters darkly, pulling free from Nicole’s grasp.  “It already hurts to breathe.”

That hits Nicole like a knife to the ribs, and Wynonna stomps away a few paces into the alley next to Shorty’s, suddenly much more steady on her feet.  She takes out her frustration on the nearby dumpster and then leans back against the cold bricks that line the side of the building.

“Come on, Wynonna,” Nicole says, her brow furrowed as she follows after her.  “You’re drunk.  Let’s get you out of here.”

“I’m not drunk!” Wynonna bites back, punching the dumpster again, and Nicole is surprised to see a slight dent left behind in the metal from the impact.

“Wynonna…” Nicole admonishes.  “You smell like a distillery.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t have a few drinks, Officer Fun Police.”  She lays the sarcasm on thicker than usual, but Nicole notes that the slur is completely gone from her speech.  “But most of that,” she gestures at herself, “is from Cecil Wright spilling a bottle of Varmint all over me when I was trying to get to the jukebox.”

Nicole folds her arms, raising a skeptical eyebrow.  To her credit, Wynonna doesn’t flinch under the inspection.

“I’m seriously not that drunk, Nicole,” she says, her tone serious as she straightens up.

The use of her first name rather than another Haught pun drops some of the tension out of Nicole’s stance.  She thinks Wynonna might be telling the truth.  Which makes this whole thing even more confusing.

“Then…  then why?” she asks, waving her hand and gesturing from Wynonna to the bar and back.  “Why the big show?”

Wynonna’s shoulders drop and she slumps back against the bricks.  She’s silent for a moment, but then she looks back up at Nicole, and Nicole can see the cracks spreading across Wynonna’s carefully constructed façade.

“Sometimes it’s just easier that way,” Wynonna shrugs.  “If people think I’m shitfaced, then they don’t try to talk to me about…  about…”

She can visibly see the lump forming in Wynonna’s throat.  Wynonna wipes hastily at her eyes and turns away, picking at the cut on the back of her knuckles from when she punched the dumpster a minute ago.

Nicole reaches out and takes Wynonna’s hand in her own.  Wynonna starts to jerk away, but Nicole doesn’t let her.  She turns her hand over and examines the cut and the bruise that’s quickly forming around it.  Reaching into one of the cargo pockets of her uniform pants, Nicole pulls out an antiseptic wipe and some gauze and begins cleaning up the laceration.

Wynonna hisses at the sting, but she doesn’t pull away, and together they stand there in silence, alone in the alley while Nicole shows off her first-aid skills.  It’s the way their friendship has always been.  A little unorthodox, but it works for them, and Nicole would never give up this strange bond they share.

“I’m still giving you a ride home,” Nicole finally says when she finishes, tossing the used gauze in the dumpster.  “I believe you,” she adds quickly, before Wynonna can argue again.  “But you still don’t need to be driving tonight.  Especially on your bike.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Wynonna protests.

“Wynonna…” Nicole sighs.  “You can’t go back in there.”

“I didn’t say that,” Wynonna snaps.  It comes out a bit sharper than perhaps shemeant for it to.  “I just…”  She kicks an empty beer bottle and they both watch as it skitters down the alleyway before shattering against the far wall.  “I just don’t want to go home.”

“Did something happen, Wynonna?” Nicole frowns, wondering if she needs to gather up the crew for some demon ass-kicking.

“No…” Wynonna mutters, looking anywhere but at Nicole.

“Hey.”  She reaches out and places a hand on Wynonna’s shoulder.  “Talk to me, Earp,” she adds softly, with a gentle squeeze.

“The ghosts,” is all Wynonna says.  

It’s non-sequitur, to say the least, but it’s the thread that Wynonna has chosen to pick up, and Nicole is patient enough to wait and see where it will lead them.

“Sometimes they’re louder than the voices in my own head.”  She looks down at her boots awkwardly.  “Sometimes even the whiskey can’t drown them out.   Daddy and Willa.  Curtis and Shorty.  Fish.  …Dolls.”  She nearly chokes on a sob, and Nicole feels the pieces of her heart shattering, the shards slicing into her lungs and stealing her breath.  “Alice.”

“Oh, Wynonna…”  Nicole can’t help but pull Wynonna into a hug, and to her surprise, Wynonna doesn’t fight it.  Instead she collapses into her arms, here in this dirty alley with no one else around to see her.  “Alice isn’t…  She’s safe, Wynonna.”

“She isn’t dead, Nicole.  But she’s gone.  And it’s all my fault.  Just like the rest of them.”

Nicole doesn’t know what to say, so she just stands there, holding Wynonna in her moment of vulnerability, until the sobs die out into sniffles and she suddenly pulls away like she’s just been burnt.

“Haught, I swear to god if you—”

“I know nothing,” Nicole cuts her off, holding up her hands in mock surrender.  Wynonna narrows her eyes, but Nicole doesn’t shrink away from the scrutiny.  “You can trust me,” she says, pouring every ounce of earnesty she has into the simple statement.  She’s surprised when Wynonna nods once in her direction.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”  That was not the response she was expecting.

“Okay.”

“So, uh…”  Nicole clears her throat as they both start pretending like none of that ever happened.  “Why don’t you stay with us at my place tonight?  The guest bedroom is already made up.  You’re welcome to it.”

She’s half expecting an argument, but Wynonna seems to mull it over for a few seconds and then shrugs.

“Probably wouldn’t hurt to have someone keep an eye on you two.”  She pats Peacemaker where it’s nestled against her hip and dares Nicole to tease her about any of this.

Nicole snorts, but slings an arm around Wynonna’s shoulder anyway.

“Sure, Earp.  Whatever you say.”

They head back to the cruiser, the banter flowing freely between them now, and Nicole is rather relieved that she can open the front passenger-side door for Wynonna rather than having to wrestle her into the back seat.

“Oh.  I, uh…  I promised Waverly some Dark Lunch from Mama Lou’s before I left to come and get you,” she says as she climbs into the driver’s seat.  “That alright with you?”

“Shit, Haughtshot.  I could murder a stack of pancakes right now.”

[winchester-ofthe-lord]

Classic Winchester Adventures - Chapter 3

Square Filled: Cassette Collection

Rating: gen

Warnings: Dean’s interesting eating habits, all da feels?

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: What do unicorn-clouds, the Smurfs and a giant ball pit have in common?

read on ao3     read from the beginning

A/N:  hiya guys, this is chapter 3 of the Classic Winchester Adventures, filling the bingo square "Cassette Collection" of @spnclassicbingo 's challenge. I had an absolute blast writing this chapter, I laughed, I cried, I puked in my mouth a little. I hope you like it, please let me know what you think and stay tuned for the next chapters :)

The clattering of crockery and cutlery mixes with the cheerful, nevertheless serene voices in the well-patronized diner. It's just after eight in the morning and Dean gives a tired yawn. He tries to cover it with his palm though, before shoving a bite of his blueberry pancake into his mouth, moaning contentedly around the fork, his eyes closed.

“Should I give you two a little privacy?” Sam takes a sip of his coffee and grins over the rim of his steaming cup. He places it next to his plate with avocado toast with egg, of which he takes a generous bite.

“You’re just jealous because your food looks like someone already ate and then threw it back up again,” Dean scoffs and moans once again around a mouthful of his delicious pancake. He waves the fork around, pointing vaguely at the remains of his dish and, mouth still full and split into a wide smile, says “This tastes friggin’ awesome, man.”

Sam heaves a slightly frustrated sigh and looks at the amused grin on his brother’s face, swallows politely before he answers, “Y’know Dean, if you gave it a try you’d realize it actually tastes pretty good.” The taller man eyes the unappetizing mess of squished blueberries in batter, drowning in syrup on Deans plate and adds, “And well… my food is, in contrast to your…’awesome’ pancake, at least healthy.”

“Uh-huh,” the older brother huffs disapprovingly and shoves the next, maybe a little too big forkful into his mouth, smearing syrup all over his right cheek in the process. A drop of sticky golden liquid sugar slowly travels down his jaw, pauses at his chin for a brief moment and leaves Dean’s face. It splashes onto the front of his flannel where it creates a dark stain, syrup slowly seeping into the fabric, diameter growing by the minute.

Sam observes his brother in awe - his pleased grin, stuffed round cheeks, the way he’s chewing contentedly on his pancake while humming in enjoyment, happy crinkles around his closed eyes, completely oblivious to the mess on his face and shirt… it’s official, he’s an actual squirrel.

The younger brother snorts a laugh through his nose and shakes his head before he turns his eyes back to the laptop screen next to his plate, and takes another bite of his avocado toast.

“Hey Dean,” Sam clears his throat and swipes toast crumbs off his mouth with a napkin, “Before we’re driving to that ‘Haunted Motel’... y’know, it’s still more than two weeks until the thirteenth, so technically we’d have time for another case.” He glances up to his brother who just finished the last remnants of his pancake, now washing it down with a gulp of his, most likely cold, coffee. His brows knit into a deprecating frown as he puts his empty cup back on the table.

“Uh… yeah, sure,” Dean scrubs a hand over his face, a little surprised at his fingers sticking to his cheek. He holds his syrupy hand in front of his face, apparently contemplating whether he should wipe the gluey sugar on a napkin or rather lick it from his fingers. When he sees Sam’s judgingly raised eyebrows, he decides on the former, cleaning both his hand and his face thoroughly. “So-” he puts down the napkin and devotes all his attention back to Sam- “the case?”

“Right...” Sam thrusts his plate aside and pulls the laptop in front of him instead, eyes quickly skimming the screen. “So, there’s been a few articles in the local newspaper. Relating… weird stuff.”

“Weird stuff? Uh… can you be a little more precise, maybe?”

The taller man purses his lips into a tight smile when the waitress appears at their table to refill their empty mugs, and throws a muttered ‘thank-you’ at her retreating back.

He turns to face Dean again and starts, “So get this. There are reports about things like… the sky being green and the grass blue on one day. Or clouds in the most ridiculous shapes. There was a witness who mentioned a-” He reads the next part right from the screen, quoting the witness word for word- “a ‘unicorn-cloud bouncing across the sky’.”

Dean snorts into his coffee, shoots his brother an amused, curious grin, “A what now?”

“‘Unicorn-cloud’” Sam repeats, suppressing a smile. “Another day all the cars in that town were replaced by toy cars, few weeks later the school looked like a castle in a fairy tale and some houses were turned into some really interesting shapes.” He turns the laptop screen towards Dean to show him tiny pictures of the colorful, bulbous houses and receives an irritated frown.

“One day the lake was covered in foam, like a giant bubble bath. Then another day there was the-” This time not even Sam has the self-restraint to stifle his laugh- “smurf gang and apparently they were running around the town and told everyone they’re trying to escape a giant cat called Azrael and his owner Gargamel.

“Another day, about a month later, every time somebody clapped their hands it became dark as night, and when they clapped again it was day again.” Sam pauses to take a swig of his coffee, his tongue poking out between his teeth afterwards as he chuckles slightly.

“Welp, sure does sound like our kind of weird,” Dean says and snatches the laptop from Sam to read through the articles himself. Maybe his brother’s just messing with him again.

Still cradling the cup in his hands, Sam adds, “Thing is, these... incidents don’t follow a particular pattern, there’s no recognizable structure. They seem to happen arbitrarily. Completely at random intervals.”

“How come we only hear about that stuff now?” the older Winchester wants to know, looking up from the screen and absentmindedly taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, nobody’s been hurt yet. So far it’s only been pretty innocuous and-” Sam points at the picture of a panicky, tiny blue gnome with a white hat on the laptop and snickers- “to be honest, rather funny things. Also, these, let’s call them phenomena last, as far as I got it right, only one day each.”

Dean flips the laptop shut and empties his coffee in one go. He fishes a few dollar bills out of his wallet and jams them between the empty cup and the tabletop as he pushes himself up, “Well, let's just be on the safe side then. What’d you say where this town was?”

Two days later, Sam and Dean are standing in front of a big, although sort of inconspicuous house. There’s a huge wooden sign in the front yard, colorful and elegantly curved letters saying ‘Nancy’s Home for Children’.

They walk past the sign, gravel crunching under their feet, as Dean straightens the cuff on his dress shirt sleeve that’s peeking out of his FBI jacket.

They’d spent the time since their arrival investigating the previous phenomena, questioning witnesses and even talked to the mayor, until they found out that all incidents are somehow related to one single place - the town’s foster home.

“As it’s most probably a witch... you got your ring?” Sam asks when they reach the door, already holding up his fist to knock.

Dean raises his right hand and wiggles his fingers, showing off the silvery shining iron ring he put on for this very purpose, “Yep.” What is it with monsters and their aversion for iron anyway? He nods towards the sign in the yard as his brother knocks on the door, “So, you think this is some kind of Mary Poppins or Nanny McPhee thing?”

“I don’t know, Dean. That’s why we’re here and we’ll just ask politely,” Sam deadpans and clothes his face in his typical fake courtesy FBI agent smile, before he turns back to the door, waiting for it to open.

“Oh God, no. Please no clowns!!!” Sam shakes his head frantically and waves his hands around in a defensive gesture. Desperately seeking help he looks at Nancy and shakes his head once more for emphasis, sheer panic in his eyes.

Nancy, the foster mother and part-time witch as they found out about an hour ago, reaches out with a soothing hand and places it on Sam’s arm, “No clowns, don’t worry.” She smiles fondly at the man on her couch and glances over to his brother, one of her eyebrows raised in question.

“Naw dammit, why not, Nancy?” one of the two kids in the room complains loudly as he throws both his arms exaggeratedly into the air and sinks down onto his seat with a sulky sigh, before he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Hey,” the brunette woman cautions with a raised finger, “I said no swearing, Tim, you know that.” She pats his knee and strokes his cheek with her index finger in a quick motion, “Because you already made your wish, and I think Sam here-” Nancy cocks her head towards the taller Winchester who still looks a little frightened- “doesn’t seem too happy about clowns. You said you wanted both of them to be here tomorrow, so we gotta accept his request and leave the clowns out.”

Dean clears his throat to drag the boy’s attention and leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees while he starts talking, “Y’know Tim, Sammy here ain’t a big fan of clowns, but I’m sure we’re gonna have fun even without ‘em, okay?” He puts on a wide grin and winks at the now also smiling boy in front of him.

“Ugh, fine,” Tim says, gets up and points at Sam. “But you’re coming tomorrow, aren’t you?!” he adds in a demanding tone, causing the younger Winchester to nod in response and smile as well. Tim leaves the living room in a haste, now that he’s got what he wanted, and drags the other kid, Ella as she told them earlier, along with him.

“Sorry, he can be a little difficult sometimes.” Nancy turns back to face Sam and Dean again, her beaming blue eyes focussing on the latter as the corners of her mouth curl upwards.

“No problem, really,” Dean reassures her and licks over his bottom lip, mirroring her flirting smirk.

They realized that Nancy was the witch as soon as they entered her house and she reacted to Dean’s iron ring when they shook hands. That’s why they immediately dropped their FBI fassade and did some straight talking instead.

That’s why they also realized that Nancy was by no means one of the evil, obnoxious representatives of her kind, but actually quite the opposite. That she’s nothing but friendly and warm-hearted, loving and caring towards her foster children.

Nancy explained how she’d always had magical abilities, that her family had taught her how to use them, but that they wanted her to harm other people, to do black magic. She, however, didn’t want to hurt anyone, so she left her coven and started a new family, in a new town - with her foster kids. She wanted to be good.

Despite his usual reluctance regarding witches, Dean couldn’t help but sympathize with her. The beautiful long brown hair, the errand strands that fall into her pretty face whenever she cocks her head in that adorable way, her radiant, bright blue eyes, her athletic figure and her mesmerizing smile might have played a crucial role in his decision making process. A fact he’d never admit to his brother though.

Nancy only ever uses her witchcraft for the sole purpose of birthday presents, she explained further. Whenever it’s one of her fosterling’s birthdays, the kid can make one wish for this special day, on condition that it serves other people in equal measure.

Which might be the reason why the whole town’s been affected more often than not.

“Nancy, I’m afraid you gotta stop this,” Sam told her earnestly when she finished talking. “Someday someone might get hurt. Or other hunters will find you, and I’m not sure if they are as reasonable and-” he stopped to glare at his brother who was currently balancing a tiny basketball on his forehead, while three overly excited children applauded at his remarkable trick and laughed hysterically- “mature as we are...”

In the end, they agree that Nancy could keep using her magic, but should restrict it to a small area around the foster home and shield it from the rest of the town, so as not to drag even more attention to the untypical spectacles.

They also agree, at the children’s urgent entreaty, that the Winchesters will stay and celebrate Paul’s birthday with the whole foster family the next day - much to Dean’s delight.

Nobody wants to tell Dean or Sam what Tim had actually wished for. “It’s a surprise,” the boy declares proudly, showing off his toothy grin. Well… at this very moment it isn’t that toothy, as two of his front teeth are missing, but still he seems exceedingly happy. At least it gives him an adorable lisp.

The brothers say goodbye to the lively gang and drive back to their motel, both equally full of anticipation and perhaps even a little fear at the same time.

It’s almost ten am the next day as the Impala pulls up in front of ‘Nancy’s Home for Children’ and comes to a stop. Dean turns the ignition, he and his brother open their respective doors at the same time. Both their faces lighten up when they already hear children screaming and laughing in excitement, even though they’re still on the other side of the road.

Once again they walk past the big sign and knock on the door. When nobody opens after several minutes of waiting, they decide to round the building to get to the backyard where all the happy noises seem to come from.

“C’mon Sam, Nancy promised not to get any clowns, I think you’re safe,” Dean says with a chuckle when Sam hesitates for a second in front of the garden gate.

As soon as they reach the back porch they’re greeted by three kids almost running right into them, followed by Nancy’s warning voice about someone named Tyler being responsible that nobody gets hurt.

“Kids,” she mutters under her breath, shaking her head, giggling to herself. “Oh hey, Sam, Dean, glad you could make it!” Nancy offers them a warm smile and gives both men a brief once over, “What, no fake FBI suits today?”

Before either of the brothers can answer, they get interrupted by a loud announcement of Tim who sprints past them, taking a speedy run-up, “CANNONBALL!” and jumps into the giant ball pit that replaced the creek that usually passes through the backyard. Small plastic balls in all colors of the rainbow explode into the air as his small body gets devoured by the colorful hole in the floor. He bursts through the surface with a high-pitched, excited shriek and climbs out of the pit, running straight towards the grown ups on the porch.

“Hey there, Tim.” Sam says and emits a dull ‘hmmpf’ when the little boy crashes into him, throwing both his arms around the taller Winchester’s waist in pure delight. Sam ruffles a large hand through the boy’s auburn hair, coaxing a joyful laughter from him.

“Did you see my super duper cannonball?” All three adults nod excessively in affirmation, wide smiles on every of their faces.

Tim turns to Dean and hugs him as well, although not as racily as he did with Sam, now that he’s not running anymore.

“Happy Birthday, Tim,” Dean congratulates and scoops the squeaking boy up into his arms, “How old are you now?”

The kid holds up both hands, showing six fingers to the two men. “I’m six!” Tim states, lisp strong on the first and last letter of the word, and he thrashes around in Dean’s arms, struggling to get down on the floor again.

The second his feet meet the floor, he grabs Sam’s hand and drags him through the back door and into the house, “I gotta show you-” The rest of the sentence gets swallowed as the door falls closed, causing both Dean and Nancy to chuckle slightly.

“So, a giant bouce house, huh?” Dean asks, peaking through one of the windows to watch several kids jumping around the living room. He huffs a laugh when he sees Sam being pulled into their middle, surrounded by two toddlers, Tim, one kid around the age of ten and two teenagers who shoot him an apologetic grin.

“Yeah, he wished for the whole house to be turned into a bouncer castle. The ball pit creek was just a little addition I thought might be fun for the kids too,” Nancy says and walks over to a small table with cake and muffins, “Want one?”

Dean gladly takes one of the chocolate covered pastries with sprinkles on top and takes a generous bite, “Nothing like muffins for breakfast,” he mumbles with a contented smile.

He stands next to Nancy who has a worried frown on her face as she looks towards the far end of the back porch. A little girl, the one they met the day before Dean thinks, is sitting on the floorboards, hugging her own knees, while absentmindedly gazing across the yard.

“What’s up with her?” Dean asks Nancy in a calm voice, so the little girl won’t hear him.

“Ella’s only been with us two weeks… She lost her parents in a car accident, and I can’t really get through to her.” Nancy bites down on her bottom lip, her concern about the little girl obviously written in her blue eyes.

Dean swallows the last bite of his muffin and crumples the paper in his hand. “Would it be okay if I tried talking to her?”

“Uhm,” she gives him a irritated look in response. She must see the sincerity and gentleness in his eyes though, because after a few moments of consideration she says, “Yeah, sure. I’m gonna be inside and make sure the mob lets your brother live.”

Dean crosses the porch. “Ella right? Okay if I sit with you?” She nods, the movement only barely noticeable, and the man takes a seat right next to her, letting his eyes roam the beautiful garden.

“How old are you, Ella?” he wants to know. Not the best conversation starter, but it does the job.

“Five.” The little girl turns her head towards Dean and adds, “And a half.”

“Five and a half, wow, so you’re basically almost a grown up, right?” He nudges against her arm, causing a shy giggle into her knees.

“Wanna tell me why you’re not playing with the others?” he asks her with a fond smile.

Ella stops giggling and hugs her knees even more tightly. Several seconds pass until she mumbles, “It’s my mommy’s birthday, too.”

Oh great. Well done, Winchester. Making a small girl even more miserable than she already is.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know that,” he tries to appease, “You miss your parents, huh?” He puts an arm around her shoulders when she, once again, nods into her knees. “Y’know, I lost my mom too.” He doesn’t even know why he’s telling her this, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

She lifts her head and looks at him, teary-eyes, blinking her long lashes repeatedly, “Really?”

“Yeah, I was four,” he says, rubbing soothing circles into her shoulder, “My brother Sammy was only six months old, so he doesn’t really remember her. But I do. And I miss her every single day.”

Ella leans against him, relaxes into his tender embrace, not even looking up. “Every day?” Her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Every day,” Dean repeats. “You never forget your parents. And it’ll always hurt to think about them. But, the thing is, I’ve always had my brother, y’know. He’s my family. And even though your mom and dad can’t be here with you right now, you got a family too. You’ve got Nancy, and Tim, and Tyler, and Jessie... and all the others whose names I can’t remember.”

He can feel Ella’s chuckle against his ribs and goes on, “But Ella, that doesn’t mean you don’t love your parents anymore. Or that you have to forget them. It just means that there are people who care about you, who are there for you when you need them.”

Dean pushes himself off the porch and stretches a hand out for the slightly confused looking little girl, “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

Dean opens the passenger door for Ella to climb into the car, and then rounds the Impala to get behind her wheel. He quickly rummages through his cassette collection, decides for a Led Zeppelin tape and puts it into the deck.

For a few minutes they just sit and listen to quiet classic rock, until Dean starts talking again. “This was my parent’s car. For my brother and me this is home,” he says. “Whenever I miss them, or I think I might forget them, I just sit in here and remember the time when we were still all together. It’s not the same, I know, but… it’s our home.”

He turns his head towards Ella on the passenger seat, “Do you have something that belonged to your parents?”

Ella nods and fishes a silver necklace out of her shirt collar with careful fingers, “This was my mommy’s.” She holds the little round pendant out for Dean, before her eyes get stuck on the tape deck, a small grin ghosting over her lips, “And my Daddy had a cassette collection like you. I’ve got it under my bed in my room.”

Dean darts her a wide smile in response, “See? They’re always here. Whenever you listen to your dad’s music, he’s right there with you. And-” he points at her necklace- “so is your mom.”

He fumbles for his wallet, flips it open and pulls out the picture of his mom, along with a small piece of paper. It’s slightly crinkled and a little rough and even torn on some places around the edges. “Here.” Dean offers Ella the photo, “This is my mom.”

She takes it, mirrors the smile Mary has on the picture, and runs her fingers gently over the photo, “She’s very pretty.”

“Yeah, she was,” Dean answers. He unfolds the small piece of paper and grins.

“What’s that?” Ella wants to know and leans across the front seat.

“Sammy, my brother, gave this to me when we were teenagers. He said he’d seen the quote and had to think of me, so he wrote it down. I always have it with me. It’s from a guy called Cicero, he said: ‘The life of the dead is placed on the memories of the living. The love you gave in life keeps people alive beyond their time. Anyone who was given love will always live on in another's heart’.”

Dean chuckles at the puzzled expression on Ella’s face, “It means that, as long as we keep thinking of the people we lost, they’re never completely dead.” He points a finger at her chest, “Because they still live inside our hearts.”

They spend the rest of the day jumping around in the bounce house and drowning in the ball pit, eating tons of amazing birthday cake, playing tag and flirting with Nancy - the latter only on the part of Dean.

When they’re about to leave the foster home after dinner - pizza for everyone - Ella tugs on Dean’s flannel sleeve.

Nancy’s smile is even wider than usual as she’s beaming at Dean with a knowing expression. He crouches down to Ella and she hands him a cassette, shyly glancing down at the floor. He takes it from her and reads the heading: ‘Bruce Springsteen - ‘84’.

“That one of your dad’s?” Dean asks her with a broad grin.

Ella’s gaze is still focused on the floor as she hums her response, “Mhm.” She slowly looks up at him and gives him a smile that makes his chest ache, “I want you to have it… so you don’t forget me.”

“Oh geez, thank you, sweetheart.” He pulls her into his arms and hugs her tightly, whispering in her ear, “Your Dad had a great taste in music, y’know.”

“Thank you for talking to her,” Nancy says to Dean when they’re out on the street, standing next to the Impala, “She seems… I don’t know, lighter somehow. I think you actually helped her a lot, so, thank you.” The brunette woman stands up on her tiptoes and cranes her head to place a soft kiss on Dean’s cheek.

The Impala heads off, Sam holding the Springsteen cassette in his hands, “Seems like someone’s got a new girlfriend,” and wiggles his eyebrows to tease his brother.

Dean snatches the cassette from Sam’s hands and glares at him in feigned offendedness. “You’re just jealous because she likes me better than you. And because I got a present and a peck on the cheek and you didn’t.” He briefly contemplates whether he should stick out his tongue at his younger brother, but then decides against it. He’s a mature, grown up man after all.

“Well, yeah. I mean, while you were flirting with the ladies, I almost threw up, because the kids made me eat like five pieces of cake and then wanted me to jump all around the house.” Sam chuckles to himself, however, which means he’s not really as pissed as he pretends to be.

A few minutes pass in companionable silence until the younger brother speaks up again, “Y’know, I get why she’s doing this. Nancy, I mean. Did you see how happy the kids were? It’s absolutely worth the risk.”

Dean simply nods in response, eyes focused on the street, as they’re headed towards the next motel for the night.

read the next chapter

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