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hockeylvr59 · 3 years

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What Ifs, Part 3 || Jeff Skinner

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: I’ve been trying to write this part for at least six months so it feels good to finally get it finished. Hope you’re ready for some fluffy Christmas content in April, and a boatload of sexual tension and some idiocy. Set Fri/Sat Dec. 13th/14th. See next post & 010 tag for Jeff’s apartment inspiration and the Christmas tree inspiration.

For a quick recap: You met Jeff at a spillway in northern PA and met up with him at a beach in Erie a few days later. After that daily conversation ensued and he visited you to go to a college football game before you surprised him at a Pens/Sabres game he didn’t think you were coming to. He kissed you postgame and murmured that he would very much like to fuck you after you teased him as he headed to the team bus.

Warnings: sexual tension || Word Count: 5,472

~~~~~~

Light snowflakes were falling, landing on your car’s windshield and then quickly melting. Christmas music played softly over the radio, while you followed your phone’s navigation through the streets of Buffalo, New York. There was just something about Christmastime that caused little bubbles of joy and excitement to course through your entire body. Those bubbles grew two sizes larger when you thought about the week ahead.

It had been a month and a half since you’d seen Jeff in the bowels of PPG Paints Arena, had felt his arms wrapped around you, felt the press of his lips against yours. Since then, you hadn’t been able to get those brief moments out of your head. Though you talked with Jeff basically every day, and your conversations had become more intimate, you hadn’t talked about the fact that he’d kissed you and you certainly hadn’t talked about his declaration that he would indeed like to fuck you. Finally though, after a month and a half, you were less than 12 hours away from seeing him face-to-face once more.

Pulling into his apartment’s parking garage, you gathered the trash you’d accumulated during the six-hour drive before climbing out of the car, stretching out your body. You’d finished your last final this morning and per Jeff’s request had immediately packed up before hitting the road. You’d be asleep when he got in from tonight’s road game, but when you woke he’d be there and that was more than enough motivation to not delay your trip until tomorrow.

Throwing your trash into your purse to take inside, you gathered the rest of your bags and locked your car. Stepping into the apartment complex’s lobby, you stopped at the doorman/security officer’s desk. Two minutes later, you had a key in hand along with a note and were directed to press the button for the fifteenth floor in the elevator. Stepping off the elevator, you searched for the right apartment, stopping in front of it with a sigh. Setting your bag down, you fumbled with the key for a moment but as soon as the door swung open you couldn’t help but smile. Though it was clearly a bachelor’s apartment, the atmosphere was immediately calming, something you very much needed after a long day.

Setting your bags down, you slipped your shoes off and made your way into the kitchen where you leaned yourself against the counter to read Jeff’s note. His scratchy script urged you to make yourself at home, rambled about how excited he was to see you, insisted that you use the money he’d left on the counter to order dinner, and left channel information for the television so that you could watch the game. Just above the scrawled Jeff, his final sentence brought a warm flush to your cheeks.

The guest bedroom is all yours if you want...but I’d love nothing more than to come home to you in my bed.

You’d shared a bed before, but that was prior to the not so innocent encounter you’d had in Pittsburgh. Still, something pushed you to carry your things down the hall, past what you assumed was the guest room and into what was clearly the master suite. Leaving them on the bed to deal with later, you returned to the main living space of the apartment, taking a few minutes just to wander around. Jeff had pictures of his family on shelves by the tv which was hung on the wall above a gas fireplace. Looking out the window, you could see the arena just a few blocks away and couldn’t help but laugh knowing Jeff hated long commutes. Turning back to the apartment’s interior, you noted that his large sofa looked warm and comfortable, and he certainly had a chef’s kitchen even if he was no chef. As promised, there were a pair of twenty-dollar bills tucked under a fruit bowl on the island and you decided maybe it was time for dinner since it was nearly seven o’clock.

After searching for local restaurants you decided that game food sounded good and so you placed an order for chicken strips, mozzarella sticks, pretzel sticks, and deep-fried cheesecake for dessert. Since Jeff had threatened you not to even think about paying for the food yourself you complied and noted that you were paying with cash. With food on its way, you moved to try and figure out Jeff’s tv, settling it onto the channel for the game, pregame programming already playing.

It wasn’t long before Jeff’s face came across the screen and immediately your heart fluttered. It was silly because you watched Jeff’s games all the time (at least when they didn’t conflict with the Penguins), but for some reason watching it while sitting in Jeff’s apartment felt different. Just before puck drop, you got the alert that your food was downstairs so after slipping on some shoes, you grabbed the cash and key and made your way down to get it.

With dinner spread out across the coffee table, you got yourself a glass of water and settled in on Jeff’s couch. About midway through the first period, he snuck the puck through the goalie’s legs and into the back of the net causing you to let out a cheer. Just before the end of the second, he buried another puck past the goalie to give the Sabres a two-goal lead. Watching Jeff play so well made a content smile settle onto your face as you cleaned up your leftovers and trash before snuggling under the blanket that was tossed over the back of the couch. With your eyes occasionally fluttering shut, you missed what preceded the tussle Jeff was currently in with a player on the opposing team. Immediately anxiety filled your body, but soon you watched as Jeff was led to the penalty box appearing no worse for wear as he continued to chatter away.

By the time the game ended, you had already started to fall asleep on the couch, so you decided it was time to head to bed, tidying up before locking the front door and retreating to Jeff’s bedroom. There you changed into pajamas before setting your suitcase on a chair in the corner. Brushing your teeth and washing your face was all you needed to do in the bathroom and after plugging your phone in, you flipped off the lights and tugged the covers back climbing into bed. Soon, with your body sinking into the comfortable mattress, you were out like a light.

___

“Shh, it’s just me…go back to sleep.” You heard whispered as you stirred. You had no idea what time it was, but as the bed shifted beside you, part of you realized that Jeff had arrived home. Unconsciously, you shifted toward him and a warm set of arms draped around your waist as you settled your head against his shoulder and dozed right back off.

When you actually awoke, the room was filled with the faintest morning light. It was only then that you processed the fact that your entire body was tangled with Jeff’s, pressed tightly against him. Your head was still on his shoulder, your bodies touching from your chests to your hips, and your legs were entwined with his. Your mind raced to figure out how to best extract yourself when you felt Jeff’s chest vibrate under you.

“Morning.” He murmured, his voice groggy. Lifting your head, you glanced up to see that his eyes were still filled with sleep and he had a sleepy smile on his face as he gazed right back down at you.

“Morning…” You whispered back, shifting the hand that had been curled against Jeff’s chest to run through your hair.

“Sorry if I woke you coming in last night…” Jeff said, yawning softly.

“I don’t think you did…” You whispered. “I don’t actually remember you climbing into bed.”

“Then it was just your body that noticed.” Jeff teased. “Because you shifted to cuddle me immediately.” A warmth crept over your cheeks but Jeff’s smile only grew, still lazy and soft due to the early morning hour. “Was kinda nice,” Jeff explained with a small shrug. “Told you I wasn’t going to complain if you chose my bed.” He continued, his lips dropping to press gently against your forehead.

After stretching slightly, you finally dropped your arm back to Jeff’s torso, your fingers grazing against his abdomen. A low groan slipped from his lips and he moved his hand to lace his fingers with yours.

“As much as I wanna stay here…” He mumbled. “Want you to keep touching me.” He added under his breath. “We should probably get up before I have an even bigger problem.” This time when your eyes met his, they were a shade darker than just a minute ago and your saliva caught in your throat at what he was implying.

“Mmmm...yeah…” You agreed, working to extract your body from his. “I um...I’m gonna use the guest bathroom real quick...do you have stuff for breakfast in your fridge?” Jeff’s expression was unreadable as he watched you climb from bed, making your way towards the hallway door.

“I’m sure we can find something.”

___

By the time Jeff made his way out into the kitchen, you had managed to find a package of pancake mix and some bacon and eggs in his fridge and were hard at work making breakfast. Without saying a word, Jeff moved to start some coffee before taking over the skillet with the eggs from your hands.

“Let me help.” He chided. With the two of you working side by side, it didn’t take long to have breakfast made and once it had been served onto plates, Jeff paused, pulling you into his arms. “I haven’t had a proper hug yet.” He explained, almost whiny about it. Settling your arms around his waist, you returned his hug, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. “So glad you’re here.” Jeff declared, kissing your head once more before pulling away.

Settled at his kitchen island you ate breakfast in comfortable silence. When you were finished, Jeff took your dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. As he did so your eyes raked over his body, dressed only in sweats and a t-shirt. He was so attractive that you had to force yourself to look away before he caught you staring.

“So what’s the plan for today?” You murmured, not sure what exactly he had in mind since you’d let him plan pretty much everything. “Or I guess I should ask about today and the rest of this week?” You added, realizing that beyond the fact that he had one home and one away game, you had no idea what his schedule was like.

Jeff turned to lean against the counter across from you as he responded, his smile bright and eyes twinkling.

“I thought maybe today you could help me decorate?” He suggested. “We have the day off so I’m all yours. Then tomorrow we just have practice so I was thinking you could play tourist for a bit and then we could go out for dinner, maybe introduce you to Jack or some of the other guys.” After laying out his thoughts for weekend plans, Jeff paused for a moment to let you respond, and when you simply nodded he continued. “Monday we play at home, I already have your game ticket. Tuesday is a quick up and back to Toronto, we’re literally flying up in the morning and back after the game. I think a few of the guy’s girls are going if you have your passport on you and would be interested, but no pressure there if you want to stay here and veg for a day.” Warmth flooded through you at Jeff’s acknowledgement that this trip could be a lot and that if you needed some quiet time during it that was more than okay. At the same time though you couldn’t help but feel slightly overwhelmed at fact that he wanted you to meet his teammates and their significant others.

Jeff pulled his lower lip between his teeth and his fingers rubbed at his neck before he spoke once more. “And then uh...Wednesday we have our team Christmas stuff, an official organization family skate in the morning and then Jack is hosting just the team and dates to his place for the evening…”

“Oh uh…” You breathed, having no idea that all of that was going on while you’d be here. Sensing that your brain was spinning away from you, Jeff rounded the island.

“But uh...we can talk about that later. I don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Let’s just see how things play out okay?” He offered and when his fingers laced with yours you found yourself nodding. “Good…” Jeff breathed. “I just want you to enjoy being here.” His concern, the way his eyes spilled over you, it all made you want to shiver in the best way.

“So...decorating?” You mused, bringing your mind back to focus on the day ahead instead of dwelling on everything else and the weight all of it held.

“Yep...go get dressed.” Jeff prodded, lifting you off of the stool with ease and placing you on your feet. His show of strength sent a spark through you and you nodded, retreating back to the bedroom to dig through your bag for clothes. Fifteen minutes later, you had pulled on a pair of jeans, a snuggly sweater, warm socks, and had done a really light coat of makeup before sliding into your tennis shoes and grabbing your coat.

“Ready?” Jeff inquired from his spot on the couch in the living room.

“Yep.” You replied, taking in Jeff’s similar outfit and the way it clung to his form. Sliding your phone into your pocket and grabbing your wallet, you followed him down to the garage, sliding into the passenger seat of his SUV with just a little help. Once he had pulled the car out onto the downtown Buffalo streets, his hand fell to rest over yours and you looked over at him, biting your lip at how natural the warmth of his palm felt.

With Christmas music playing over his car’s speakers, the drive was quiet and almost a bit stifling. Then Jeff murmured once more that he was really glad you were here and the way he glanced over at you told you that he meant that with everything in him.

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You replied, heart fluttering a bit no matter how much you tried to control it. Jeff drove out of the city and into the surrounding suburbs before pulling into the parking lot of a Walmart. When he parked, you climbed out, dropping down onto the pavement before meeting him at the rear of the vehicle.

“And here I thought you were taking me somewhere more exciting than a Walmart.” You joked softly, bumping your shoulder into his arm. Jeff’s cheeks turned a little pink as he walked beside you into the store.

“I figured we’d get the ornaments and garland and everything first and then head to the tree farm to pick the tree.” He explained rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t really have any decorations here.” He mumbled under his breath causing you to look up at him curiously. “I’m fairly close to home, usually traveling, and haven’t really had a reason to decorate before.” He shrugged. You nodded, letting him grab a cart as you followed him into the store. In the back of your mind you couldn’t help but focus on his words though. Neither of the first two points had changed all that much so was the driving factor the third...and if so was that reason you? Though you wondered, you didn’t ask, instead just pushing it to the back of your mind once more.

Being that it was already mid-December, the Christmas section of the store was fairly well decimated and you watched Jeff’s eyes go wide as if he didn’t expect that. Giggling to yourself, you moved over to the rack of tree lights which was mostly empty but still had a few boxes of both white and colored left.

“What color lights do you prefer?” You asked him softly knowing that was as good a place as any to start. Jeff looked at you like he honestly had no idea so you grabbed the remaining few boxes of white lights, tossing them into the cart he was pushing.

“I didn’t expect everything to be gone.” He whispered softly as he pushed the cart down the empty aisles. There was one container of white glass ornaments tucked onto the back of a shelf but otherwise there really wasn’t much of anything.

“Jeff it’s mid-December.” You murmured back leaning against the cart. Sensing his distress you rested your hand over his. “Is there a Michael’s nearby?” You asked, pulling out your phone to check when he didn’t seem to know the answer. Finding one about fifteen minutes down the road, you grabbed the container of white balls since they’d go with anything, a box of ornament hooks, and you then urged Jeff to head to check out with your meager findings.

Back at the car, you plugged the address into his GPS and squeezed his hand assuring him that Michael’s would have plenty of decorations left for him to choose from. It didn’t take long to drive to the craft store and when you led Jeff inside this time you couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face at seeing aisles upon aisles of Christmas and other decorations. Starting in the aisle full of ornaments, you asked him what he liked and what kind of aesthetic he wanted for his tree.

For a moment he just looked back and forth like this was too many options before finally pointing to some wooden carved ornaments and how those looked kind of cool. Finally getting somewhere, you smiled and pulled a few of each design off the hooks setting them into the cart. After suggesting various colors of ornaments which received faces with varying degrees of dislike, you finally picked up a container of dark green balls and a pondering face crossed Jeff’s face.

“Forest green with the white balls from Walmart and the wood?” You reminded him trying to get him to picture how it would all look together.

“Do you think it would look good?” He asked and when you nodded he offered his hand out for the container to put it into the cart. Spotting a similar container that was just a little smaller with silver balls, you grabbed those as well putting them into the cart and shrugging at his questioning glance.

“You need at least a little bit of sparkle. So just a little metallic.” You insisted. Deciding that should be sufficient ornament wise, you moved down the aisles to find something that would serve as a nice garland and fit with the aesthetic Jeff seemed to like. A few aisles over you found strings of wooden balls and you showed Jeff before adding them to the cart. Then you disappeared into the depths of the store before coming back with wide-width forest green velvet ribbon which would give the decorations just a little bit more depth.

Jeff just watched you maneuver through the store before asking if you had everything you needed. For a moment you nodded but as you made your way to the check out, you spotted pine cones and added a container of those as well knowing that would be the perfect finishing touch.

“Oh…we need a tree topper too.” You said, stopping out of nowhere right in front of the cart before tugging him off in the direction of the toppers before picking out a simple but pretty silver star to go on top.

“Now are we done?” Jeff asked, though his expression was one of amusement not annoyance. Pausing for a moment to look over what was in the cart, you then nodded finally letting him go check out with all of your goodies. It was going to be a pretty tree, well once you actually picked out a tree.

As Jeff unloaded the cart, you noticed that he had picked up a few small wreaths. One was just plain and you weren’t sure what he had in mind for that but the other was simple but pretty and perfect for a door and the command hook he unloaded alongside of it suggested that he’d thought the same thing. There was also a tree stand which was probably going to be helpful, and a white faux fur tree skirt.

It didn’t take long for Jeff to pay for all of the decorations before grabbing the bags and guiding you back out into the cold weather to the car. Shivering slightly from the wind, you tugged your coat tighter around you as you climbed into the passenger seat again, reaching for the seatbelt.

Within just a few minutes of Jeff starting the car though, you were warm from head to toe and you realised he’d turned the seat warmer on for you. While you were still in a fairly commercial neighborhood, Jeff pulled into a Starbucks drive-thru and ordered warm beverages for the next part of your day. From there he drove even further away from the city and you watched the northern New York countryside pass by your window unsure of whether the warmth you were feeling was solely emanating from the seat and beverage or from the way Jeff made you feel.

As you drove farther into the countryside, a light snow covered the ground and trees making everything look that little bit prettier. Seeing the tree farm up ahead you couldn’t help but bounce a little in your seat because this was something you’d never done before. Your family has always had an artificial tree so you’ve never picked out a real one before.

Following Jeff because he clearly knew what he was doing in this regard, you moved through the rows of trees behind him, eyes wide at just how many there were.

“Have you seen any you’ve liked?” Jeff asked, popping up behind you somehow after a few minutes.” Jumping a little you smacked his arm gently for scaring you.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for…” You murmured. “It’s your tree.” You reminded, shrugging your shoulders after sticking your hands back in your pockets because it was cold. Jeff’s chuckle filled your ears and he reached to pull one of your hands out of your pocket, tucking it into his own as he led you down the row of trees pointing out a couple that he liked. Reading his body language, you urged him that the one he really liked but wouldn’t say so was the one and after that he handed you the keys, kissing your temple and telling you to go warm up while he got the tree paid for, cut down, and loaded up.

From the car you watched as, with the help of the lot’s employee, Jeff loaded the tree up onto the top of the SUV and got it tied down. Soon after that you were off to head back into the city Jeff asking what you wanted for lunch since it was already that time of day.

“I can just make something when we get back.” You assured him, not minding cooking for the two of you. Jeff murmured back that he didn’t invite you here to cook for him all week and you sighed softly replying that you didn’t come up expecting to not do anything all week either and that you could handle a few meals. A moment later he nodded, deciding that this wasn’t something worth going back and forth over and he turned his attention back to the road as the city loomed in front of you once more.

Having reached the garage of his building once more, you moved to grab as many shopping bags as you could so that you could get them inside and ready to decorate the tree which you weren’t quite sure how Jeff was going to get inside and up to the fifteen floor as you had a feeling it was too tall for the elevator.

You realized Jeff had come to this same conclusion moments after you did when he cursed under his breath.

“Let me get all the breakable decorations upstairs and then I can come help you with the tree?” You suggested. Jeff seemed to agree but when you came back down, he was carrying the tree with the help of the building’s doorman, brushing off your help and just asking you to go wait on his floor to open the stairway door.

Shaking your head to yourself, you took the elevator back up not envying the poor doorman helping Jeff to carry a tree up fifteen flights of stairs. At the top, you waited for them, holding the door up when they approached and then moving to hold the apartment door open as well before moving out of the way as they leaned the tree against a wall. While Jeff talked to him, you retreated into the kitchen to try and figure out what to make for lunch, deciding to make up a quick stir fry because that wouldn’t take long after defrosting some chicken in the microwave.

You were grabbing some things from his freezer and searching for another pan when Jeff appeared behind you making you jump again.

“You gotta stop that.” You chastised, looking over your shoulder at him. “And I hope you are going to do something nice for your poor doorman.” You added teasing, nodding when Jeff assured you that he was getting him game tickets and a signed jersey. When he asked if he could help you shook your head telling him that he should go figure out where he wanted to put the tree and get it set up so that you could start decorating after lunch.

“Alright, just holler if you need something.” He agreed before moving back around the island to the living room leaving you to navigate his kitchen to make up a quick lunch. By the time you had all your ingredients ready, the chicken was defrosted and you put it into the pan with just a little bit of water to start cooking, adding in the vegetables shortly after that. When everything was looking good and ready, you added in the stirfry sauce and added the rice to the small pot of water you had brought to a boil.

Within 20 minutes you were serving lunch onto plates and calling Jeff to come eat, laughing at how he was struggling with the tree. Moving to lend him an extra set of hands quickly, you managed to help him get the tree into the base and secured so that it would stand on its own. Repeating that food is ready, you smile at how flushed his cheeks are before moving back into the kitchen teasing that now you understand why he’s never decorated before.

Getting ice from the icemaker you didn’t hear him say that he never had anyone worth decorating for, though those words would have brought tears to your eyes if you had.

___

After lunch you let Jeff finish up the dishes while you worked on pulling all the decorations out of their bags. With everything laid out, you turned some Christmas music on from your phone to set the mood again.

When Jeff came in he turned on his gas fireplace and taking a strand of lights you’d already plugged in and checked from you, he started to wrap the lights amongst the branches working his way from the bottom of the tree up. It was almost seamless, the rhythm you settled into with you checking the lights and unwinding them before Jeff took them to continue wrapping around the tree until it was fully lit once plugged in.

“It already looks pretty.” You grinned signaling to him that he’d done good work with the lights.

Jeff just smiled that bright smile back and you reached to open one of the containers of ornaments while also grabbing the box of hooks. Again, the two of you took turns putting hooks on the ornaments and handing them to each other, making sure that each color and type was dispersed evenly around the tree. As you hung one of the wooden ornaments toward the middle of the tree you felt Jeff press up behind you, hanging a silver ball above your head. The heat of his body made you shiver and as he pulled away his hand slid along your waist as he steadied himself. You didn’t say anything for a moment before asking him to hand you one of the green balls.

Jeff pressed against you from behind twice more while tucking pinecones up into the branches of the tree and he slid against you while passing to grab the ribbon to drape around it. Each time he did so, a jolt sparked through your body, but that little voice in the back of your mind insisted that he didn’t mean it like that. Focusing on draping the wood garland so that it was spaced opposite the ribbon, you didn’t see Jeff’s eyes rake over your body or the way they softened as you hummed along to the Christmas carols. When everything was finally on the tree you reached to hand him the star to top it off insisting that he do it since it’s his tree.

For a moment Jeff hesitated before he reached to set the star on top before stepping back to admire the tree with you for a moment before you shifted it back toward the wall and got it plugged in, adding water into the base now that it wasn’t going to be moved anymore. The final step was adding the skirt around the base which Jeff insisted you do since you were already down there with the water. Once that was done, you smiled at how pretty it looks and hugged him from the side declaring that it looked worthy of a magazine.

Cleaning up the packaging, you watched as Jeff moved to hang the one wreath on his door while the other was placed under the fruit bowl in the center of his island with pinecones and a small green and white ornament tucked into it.

“Good work Mr. Skinner.” You grinned, washing your hands from the pine so that any pollen didn’t irritate your eyes. “Your apartment is ready for Christmas now.” His dimple was showing and his eyes flashed with something you didn’t understand as you peeked over at him suggesting that they watch a Christmas movie since they were done decorating.

Jeff agreed and you settled onto the couch handing him the remote as he pulled your feet into his lap before draping the throw blanket over your legs. After checking for your approval, he settled on Elf and you couldn’t help but smile as he quoted along to the movie.

Pausing after one movie to order dinner in and eat, you settled back in, bellies full, this time putting on the first Santa Clause. Instead of sitting like you had before, this time you sat next to him, leaning into the same space. When his thumb dropped down to brush against your inner thigh part way through the movie you felt a buzz form low in your core that didn’t stem from the bottle of wine you’d shared with dinner.

Jeff seemed to have no idea of what he was doing nor any idea the effect it was having on you. Yawning slightly, you murmured that you were going to go use his bathroom to shower if that was okay. You weren’t really paying attention to the movie anyway and you needed a moment to breathe. You’d thought that things with Jeff were different than they had been before Pittsburgh, but he hadn’t made a move or anything so maybe you were wrong. Either way there was no way you were going to stay sane with the pressure of his thumb against that part of your body.

Tonight, when Jeff slid into bed beside you, you were going to keep some distance. As much as your body wanted to be close to his, it was for the best because there was no way you were going to make it through a week here with him if you didn’t, even if he was your best friend.

#jeff skinner imagine #Jeff Skinner #buffalo sabres #buffalo sabres imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #bsabres #010

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upthewitchypunx · 5 years

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A Dabbler’s week of DIY Witchery

All us witches are steamed about the nonsense article where the person tried to become a witch in a week and concluded that we were anti-vax science deniers. We can all be annoyed at the article, but @asksecularwitch had a better idea to suggest what we would have someone do to explore witchcraft for a week or to dabble in witchcraft. There’s no shame in dabbling! How are you ever going to know if you like something if you don’t dabble?

So, here’s mine. I preface it with saying that I am an agnostic secular witch and I call my practice DIY Witchery. So, here’s how to explore that if it’s a think you might like doing.

Day 1: Clean your fucking room!

I’m not going to say what day of the week you should start. My weekend is Wednesday/Thursday so start whenever you want. You know what, you don’t even have to do this one day after another day if something comes up, just the idea that you intend to do all of it is a good start.

What you need: Tea light, safety pin, a match or lighter, a notebook, a pen, and a lot of work.

The first day of any project is almost always the most exciting one and the one that you are more inclined to put effort into. So, we are going to go big!

Clean your room! I mean it. Wash and put away your clothes, change your sheets, sweep or vacuum your floor, wash your windows, dust, change that burnt out lightbulb, take all the dishes out of your room, take your trash out and I mean the trash literally and figuratively. While you are cleaning your room think about what you want to gain from a week of exploring witchcraft. What are your interests in witchcraft? Do you want to do spells? Do you want to feel more safe? Are you interested in self-care? Do you like plants/cooking/animals and think there is something more you can do with these interests in an esoteric or occult way? Do you just want to see what all this new age woo fuss is about? All of these are valid reasons so keep them in mind when we go on to the next step and also keep your mind open because all of these things could change and that’s okay too. Then, take a bath or shower and get all that cleaning grime off you. There’s a reason “shower thoughts” hit us the way they do. Our body is relaxed and processing things differently so keep thinking about those thoughts you’ve had all day and what you are going to do with them.

Do you have an altar? I’ll bet you do! It doesn’t have to be all candles, cauldrons, and goblets and shit. It could be a flat surface where you have trinket boxes you received as gifts or an area where you have photos of friends and loved ones, or maybe a desk with your computer which is like a link to the world. We all create these spaces because they are pleasing and they remind us of who we are. Sometimes these get cluttered with empty ice cream tubs, keys, receipts, random paper but that’s why you cleaned your room so you can keep this space clear for the week. For this week, we’ll call this space “your space”

It may have been a long day and you are probably tired but you are almost done. Look around your room and admire your work. Seriously, a deep clean is so much work but so fulfilling when it is done. Get yourself a snack (or order some food if your budget allows) and get something to drink and find a cozy place to sit with your notebook.

Okay, get your snack and your drink and get that tealight candle and with a safety pin or a knife or something and carve something into the candle like “witchcraft” or “witch week” or “let’s dabble”, basically something that states that this is something you want work on. Place that in your space and light it while you write in your notebook. Think about all that stuff you were thinking about while you were cleaning. What interests you in witchcraft? If there are any aspects of witchcraft that interest you, write that down. State that you are starting this DIY project in earnest and are actually interested in taking it on. Part of taking up this project is too look at the world in a new way. The world is full of tools that might be useful if you learned to look at them in a different way. This week if you feel the urge to pick up weird objects off the ground to be used later or things that catch you eye like an acorn cap, bottle cap, or a literal fork you find it the road, or even if you see an object you can afford to buy that you think might be useful, do it. These collected things will be used for a divination project at the end of the week. Collect them and place them in your space throughout the week and document where you find them. Keep in mind your commitment to this DIY project all week when you are making choices. Remember if you decide to change your goals that’s cool.

Day 2 - Energy, Grounding & Centering

Yesterday was a lot of work so today we are going to do a quick exercise called Gounding and Centering. A simple exercise that a lot of witchcraft books I started on always mentioned that seems to be out of fashion or just skipped these days. I find it is a good trick to keep in my pocket for when I’m am upset of scared or anxious and not just for casting spells or whatever.

The general idea is to feel energy moving or to at least visualize it or maybe understand it in a strange intellectual way. It’s good to keep you in the moment, for me at least. First, let’s talk about the body and energy and how weird it is that we are alive and how our body has all these electrical impulses shooting through our nerves and telling my fingers to type this right now, ya? Being alive is pretty neat. What does a process that happens without thought feel like? Put your hands/palms together less than an inch apart without touching and think about the feeling. is it warm? Is it prickly? Does it feel like magnets repelling each other? Move your hands back and forth with the same short distance between them. Do you feel anything? It’s okay if you don’t, just try it. Write down your thoughts in your notebook.

This is what is called a visualization and sometimes people aren’t really into it or are unable to do it and that’s okay but at least give it a try The traditional grounding and centering is to sit comfortably on the floor, in a chair, or on your bed in your beautifully clean room. Sit comfortably, relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw, and notice your breathing, count to whatever numbers in and out that makes sense to you, I like 3s but maybe 5s or 7s are more you jam?

Traditionally your are supposed to visualize yourself as a tree with a tap root from the base of your spine going deep into the earth and drawing energy up and into your body as you focus on your breathing. This would be a way to draw energy for spell work but we aren’t going to do that so just send that energy right back where it came from. I actually like to physically touch my hands to the ground to shed excess energy. Maybe that visualization doesn’t work for you. It’s not really my thing. I imagine a specific location that is a watershed and all the water that falls for many square miles heads to the river, trickles through rocks to a specific place. I gather that and hold what I need and let what I don’t need pass though like the spillway of a damn. It’s more of a receptacle kind of thing for me. Maybe you like the idea of fire filling a room with warmth or the air down a canyon or some sort of science thing like water cycles, heat transference, or osmosis. Write down your thoughts about this experiement, try it a few times in one way and maybe a few times throughout this week.

Day 3- Perception and Animism

What you need: a bus pass and the ability to go outside, and your notebook

Part of this whole witch exercise is look at the world differently so go outside, talk to a tree, watch patterns in nature including humans doing human things like riding the bus or grocery shopping. Don’t wear headphones. Interact with strangers that approach you. Pretend they are NPCs in a video game. Take your notebook with you. Write down any thoughts that come to you about the things you see or feel. Write something on a piece of paper you want to get rid of like a bad date, a habit you would like to quit, an intrusive thought, and throw it away in the garbage in a public place and don’t look back. That’s a small kind of spell. If you see some change on the ground pick it up. If you see anything of interest fallen on the ground and you feel comfortable picking it up take in home and put it in your space for later, do it. Maybe go to a thrift store and see if anything catches your eye. Does your space need a tealight candle holder? I like to say I go to thrift stores to see if anything ones to come home with me.

Animism is the idea that everything (plants, animals, houses, cars, pencils, etc) has a soul, maybe you don’t believe in souls, I’m a bit iffy on the topic myself. But I do believe things and places have unique essences that make them what they are. I like to call myself a “soft-animist”. Things are created with purpose like a spoon. How do you interact with the spoon doing a spoon thing? Why does a certain smell lift your spirit? Why do you even have a favorite color? This day what about interacting with the essences of things. Things move us without our thinking about it, how do you move things? How do you interact with the world? Write about it in your notebook.

Day 4 - Correspondences and Critical Thinking

What you need: the internet, critical thinking skills, and your notebook

This one might take some time and I kind of apologize but you do have a clean room and the internet so you don’t have to go find some shitty new age book in the bookstore. A lot of witchcraft and spellcraft is based on the use of correspondences for spell ingredients. You will see a lot of these lists that are like “rose quarts is for love” and “rosemary is for everything” or “the color blue is for tranquility and green is for prosperity but also fertility” You will just see lists of these things with no explanation and you are just supposed to memorize them I guess? If you get really detailed some will mention what astrological sign or planet they are associated with even the classical elements of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. These elements show up in modern witchcraft a lot, they aren’t really my thing, but worth exploring even as a metaphor if you have the time. You’ll also see correspondences for days of the week and hours of the day or season of the year. These ingredients get put in jars, or sachets, or burned in spells. A Correspondence list is just stuff that is associated with a desired outcome of a of spell.

Some of these are based in astrological concepts or the movement of planets as observed through western mystery traditions. Some concepts of correspondences are filtered through folk magic and the idea that like attracts like, this is called Sympathetic magic. It’s like what you did if you wrote a bad date on paper and tossed it in the trash the other day. See, you did a spell! There is also the Doctrine of Signatures stating that plants that look like things like a plant that looks like a heart is good for your heart or a plant that grows aggressively is good for making a spell to make something move faster.

This is why there are endless lists of correspondences. You can go look up some endless lists of correspondences to see what I mean. Does this sort of historical context mean anything to you? Does timing mean anything to you? What if you made your own correspondences? What would that look like? What if you hate the color orange because it was your ex-husband’s favorite color? Then chuck it out of the rainbow mix! Plants and other things are often gendered, why?

Pick 3 herbs in your spice cabinet or a plant you found outside and look up the magical correspondence for it. Does it make sense to you? If not, what do you think would better represent a desired outcome? What colors, plants, flowers, sounds make you happy or sad, write that down.

Day 5 - Sigils

What you need: Pen and paper

I love sigils but the idea of what they are and how they work has been changing lately. I’m kind of old school with sigils. The idea is that you have a statement of something you want to achieve, but you write it in the present. Maybe you have decided you want to be a witch so you write “I AM A WITCH” now, drop the vowels, “M W T C H” now take those letters and turn them into a symbol, overlap the letters, make it look pleasing to you. There! You have a sigil. I like to keep these around for a few days until you forget what it was supposed to be. The idea is that you take in the idea of the symbol and it becomes part of you, then you burn it and the sigil is gone but still resides in you. There’s are lots of ways for sigils to operate these day it seems, some are charged through self pleasuring before being destroyed, some act like a sticker that you place on something and it stays there and is not destroyed, I just like to hang out with them subtly reminding myself of whatever the reason I crafted it. I highly suggest reading this article on Run Soup about sigils and images in general and how they affect humans.

Day 6 - Knot Spell

What you need: a length of swing or rope

This is a fairly simple folk charm. There’s a lot you can do with fiber art and magic but we’ll start here. Get a length of string, or dental floss or an old shoelace, whatever can be tied 9 times. If you wanna feel witchy, light the candle in your space in your clean room. Think of something you would like to manifest like waking up on time to get to work early or remembering to water your houseplants, do that grounding and centering thing from day 2, then tie the length of thread in order as outlined in this image while saying each line of the spell. Now you would let go of that energy and eat some food. Leave the knotted string in your space. Write down your thoughts on the experience.

Day 7 - Divination

What you need: A book, some way to listen to music digital and all the stuff you picked up off the ground

When people think of divination they think of tarot cards or reading tea leaves but there’s lots of different kinds of divination and there’s no reason to fork over money for a tarot deck when it just might not be your thing. I don’t know how it works or why it works but I’m more inclined to say that our brain is paying attention to everything and we fixate on symbols and archetypes because they remind of what our unconscious has been sorting out while we’ve been sleeping.

I’m going to suggest three forms of divination: Biliomancy, Shufflemancy, and Cleromancy. Pick one or pick all three if you feel like it. If you guessed bibliomancy was about books, you would be correct! Originally it was to use the bible but any big book will do, especially if the books means something to you. I have this lovely edition of Lord of the Rings that’s fantastic for this. Close your eyes, you can do the grounding and centering thing if you would like, think of a question, open the book to a random page, point your finger and read the line. Did you get some sort of answer?

Shufflemancy would be putting your music on shuffle and asking a questions for and for the next track to give you some insight.

Cleromancy is divination through small objects. It often has to do with tossing the objects and observing where they land in relation to each other but we are just going to simplify it. Remember all that stuff you picked up off the street? You didn’t do it? That’s okay. Get a small bag or maybe a stock or something and gather some small object, the ones you found or some other objects that will fit in the bag. Ask a question, toss the bag around a bit and let one object fall out. What does that object mean to you? Was it something you found? Where did you find it and under what circumstances? Was it a gift from a friend or something that has special meaning? Write it down in your notebook.

And thus concludes your week of dabbling in DIY Witchery. Maybe you hated it, but at least you have a clean room.

#diy witchery #secular witchcraft #a week of witchcraft dabbling #dabbling in witchcraft #witchcraft #witchcraft*#witchblr

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abusybuzzingbee · 4 years

Text

Dead in the Water | Supernatural Season 1 Episode 3 Rewrite | Dean x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Major Character: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Warnings: Canon level violence, language, Dean and the reader being assholes to each other

Word Count: 9,161

Summary: Dean and the reader still do not get along, but they slowly begin making progress toward a healthier relationship in a town threatened by a lake-dwelling supernatural creature.

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Season 1 Masterlist

Click here for the series playlist!

You were sat inside of a diner across from Dean, munching on the last of your fries as he circled names in an obituary. Sam had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and you and Dean refused to speak to each other unless it was to start a petty fight.

The pretty blonde waitress returned, leaning over the table and showing off her boobs. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked Dean.

You looked over at him as he grinned around the pen he was chewing on.

You suppressed an eye roll, addressing the waitress. “Just the check, please.”

“Okay,” she smiled at you, glancing over at Dean once more. The waitress strutted away, and Dean dropped his head down before looking over at you.

“You know, (Y/N), we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” He pointed at the waitress as she walked into the kitchen, “That's fun.”

“You can have fun when we find your dad.”

Dean went to say something back to you, but Sam sat down and effectively cut the conversation short.

“Hey,” he said. “What’d I miss?”

“Just your brother trying to pick up our waitress,” you stated, glaring pointedly at Dean.

“Can it, (Y/N).” He put the newspaper in front of Sam. “Take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin.” He pointed to the obituary he had circled in the paper. “Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.”

“A funeral?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure, or whatever,” the older of the two shrugged.

“Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.”

Dean’s expression hardened. He squared his shoulders and leaned forward on his forearms on the table. “Something you want to say to me?”

You took a sip of your drink, eyes widening as you looked down and to the side of you, feeling pretty awkward.

“The trail for Dad,” Sam started, “It's getting colder every day.”

Dean sighed. “Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?”

“I don't know. Something. Anything.”

“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude.” Dean’s tone was harsh as he spoke. “You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?”

“Yeah, I know you do, it's just—”

Dean cut his younger brother off. “I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?”

Sam rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he did so.

The waitress walked past again, effectively distracting Dean from his anger toward Sam. His gaze was focused right on her ass.

You scoffed and snapped your fingers a mere inch in front of his face.

He jerked back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. “What was that for?!”

“For focusing on getting your dick wet instead of the task at hand,” you replied.

Dean went to shoot something back at you, but Sam was quick to jump in. “Alright--” he directed his next question at Dean, “--Lake Manitoc, how far?”

***

The car rides between hunts were the only things in your life that resembled “normal.” They were an opportunity for you to get to know the boys better, even if Sam was the only one who talked to you.

“Sam, you cannot look me in the eyes and say Clueless is a bad movie.” You crossed your arms over your chest. You were sitting behind Dean’s seat facing Sam with your right leg up on the seat to look at the boy a little better.

“I just did. So, ha,” he quipped lightheartedly. “I mean, it’s borderline incest, (Y/N/N).”

It made you happy that Sam had given you a nickname.

“Not really. They weren’t blood-related,” you shrugged. “Sure, the relationship’s a little weird, but it’s part of the comedy of the movie.”

“Agree to disagree,” Sam chuckled.

“Sure.”

“You ladies done with the chick flicks?” Dean questioned.

“I guess we are now,” you retorted. “Why?”

“Because we’re here,” he informed you as the Impala pulled up in front of a lake house.

“Oh, would ya look at that,” you commented.

You got out of the car and headed up the painted green steps leading to the house. The wooden stair boards creaked beneath your boots as you walked. Dean knocked on the door of the house and was greeted by a man that looked to be about your age standing there.

“Will Carlton?” Dean questioned the young man.

“Yeah, that's right.”

“I'm Agent Ford,” the older Winchester started. “This is Agent Hamil--” he gestured to Sam, “Agent Fisher--” he gestured to you, “We're with the US Wildlife Service.” He held his fake badge up for Will to see. “Can we ask you a couple questions? Maybe see the spot where your sister went down?”

“Sure,” Will nodded. He led you and the boys down to the edge of the water. “She was about a hundred yards out.” He pointed at a spot far out into the lake. “That's where she got dragged down.”

“And you're sure she didn't just drown?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer,” Will answered. “She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

The older man sitting on a bench on the wooden dock that jutted out into the lake grabbed your attention. The following interrogation was just background noise to you as you studied the man’s slumped over form.

“So no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam piped up.

“No, that's what I'm telling you.”

“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?”

“No. Again, she was really far out there.”

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?”

“No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?”

“We'll let you know as soon as we do,” you heard Dean say. You sucked in a breath when Dean suddenly yanked on your arm to get you to follow him to the car.

“What was that for?” you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip.

“You wanna stop creeping on the old man and focus on the case?”

“I wasn’t creeping on him,” you replied.

“Yeah? Well, then what were you doing?”

“Just... thinking,” you answered.

“You can think when we’re not in the middle of talkin’ to a witness,” he told you.

“Are you that much of a control freak that I can’t think when I want to?” you asked incredulously. “Grow up.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something back to you, but Sam cut him off in an attempt to stop a fight from happening in front of the Carltons. “Okay, so. Can’t talk to Mr. Carlton.“

“Okay...” you trailed off, “So our best bet is the police station, then.”

***

The sheriff, whose name you found out was Jake, walked out from behind the desk in the police station’s lobby as he addressed you and the boys. “Now, I’m sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?”

“You sure it's accidental?” Sam challenged. “Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.”

Jake led you and the Winchesters into his office. “Like what?” He motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Here, sit, please.”

You took a seat in one of the chairs and Dean sat in the other. Sam leaned on the back of your chair as the sheriff continued to speak.

“There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.”

“Yeah, Dean laughed, “Right.”

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still--” Jake sat down behind his cluttered desk, leaning forward on it on his forearms, “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

“That's weird, though,” the older Winchester noted, “I mean, that's, that's the third missing body this year.”

“I know,” Jake started, “These are people from my town. These are people I care about.”

“I know,” Dean told him.

“Anyway,” the sheriff sighed, “All this...it won't be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Dean questioned.

“Well, the dam, of course,” Jake stated as if it were obvious.

“Of course, the dam. It's, uh,” Dean stuttered awkwardly, “it sprung a leak.”

‘This dumbass,’ you thought.

“No, it’s falling apart, remember? The feds won’t give us the money to fix it, so they opened the spillway,” you told him.

“It’s good to see somebody does their research,” the sheriff commented. “As Federal Wildlife, you should already know that.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed.

A few quiet knocks on the door drew your attention behind you.

A pretty brunette walked into the office. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

You and Dean stood up, facing the young woman.

“I can come back later,” she said, turning to leave.

Jake’s voice stopped her movements as he stood up as well. “Gentlemen-- and lady-- this is my daughter.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” the older Winchester smirked.

‘Oh, this asshole’s making his voice deeper.’

“I'm Dean.” He shook the woman’s hand.

“Andrea Barr,” she smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“They're from the Wildlife Service,” her father interjected. “About the lake.”

“Oh.”

A little boy with shaggy, copper-colored hair walked out from behind Andrea, his head down low.

“Oh, hey there,” Dean grinned. “What's your name?”

Lucas looked up at Dean with sad eyes before turning and walking out of the room without saying a word. Andrea looked at Dean apologetically before following who you assumed was her son out of the room.

“His name is Lucas,” Jake answered for the boy.

You watched as Andrea gave Lucas a box of crayons and ran her hand over his hair.

“Is he okay?” Sam asked.

“My grandson's been through a lot. We all have,” the older man admitted. He went and stood by the entrance to the office, turning to face you and the boys. “Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.” He led the three of you out of the office.

You thanked the sheriff.

Dean looked at the sheriff as he began to talk.“You know, now that you mentioned it--”

‘Oh, boy.’

He directed his attention toward Andrea, “--could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?”

“Lakefront Motel,” she told him. “Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south.”

“Two—” He pretended to be confused. “Would you mind showing us?”

Andrea laughed. “You want me to walk you two blocks?”

“Not if it's any trouble,” Dean stated, his smile bright.

‘Is he for real?’

“I'm headed that way anyway,” she shrugged. She told her father she would be back to pick up Lucas at three and told Lucas that she would take him to the park before leaving with you and the boys.

“Thanks again,” Sam nodded at Jake as he followed Andrea out of the station.

You and Sam stayed a few paces back from Dean and Andrea as he attempted to charm the brunette. You and Sam both wanted the pavement to swallow you whole.

“So, cute kid,” you heard Dean tell her.

“Thanks,” she replied.

‘Short, to the point, not taking any of his crap,’ you thought. ‘I like her.’

“Kids are the best, huh?” the older Winchester tried again.

Andrea glanced back at him over her shoulder, shaking her head with a smile on her face as she continued walking.

She stopped in front of a place that said “Lakefront Motel” in bold, white letters, contrasting with the red background the words were placed upon. “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.”

Sam thanked her.

She turned to address Dean. “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” She walked away, calling back over her shoulder, “Enjoy your stay!”

You let the laugh you were trying to suppress burst out of your lips. “I love her!”

“‘Kids are the best'? You don't even like kids,” Sam pointed out.

“I love kids!” his older brother argued.

“Name three children that you even know,” Sam deadpanned.

Dean paused to think for a moment but came up empty. You waved your hands at him in a shooing motion before walking toward the motel with Sam.

“I’m thinking!” he called after the two of you.

“Have fun going to get the car, dumbass!” you called back to Dean as his younger brother chuckled.

“We seriously just walked two blocks and left the car at the fucking police station all so Dean could try to hook up with the hot mom,” you sighed, shaking your head.

***

You and the boys had gone to your separate motel rooms to unpack once Dean had grabbed your bags--well, his and Sam’s, making you go out to the Impala to get your own.

Sam told you that he and Dean were going to take some time to unpack and the three of you would meet up again later. You were never one for unpacking your duffel bag on hunts since you would not be staying in one location for very long. Instead, you took the downtime you had been given to do some research.

You pulled your laptop along with a few other items out of your bag before flopping down onto the flimsy mattress and kicking your combat boots off. As you blew out a puff of air, you opened your laptop to The Lake Manitoc Tribune’s browser page. You scrolled through article after article on the drownings in the town. One article, in particular, caught your attention. The headline read “Local Man in Tragic Accident” with the story of a man named Christopher Barr written below.

‘Christopher Barr... as in Andrea Barr?’

Your question was answered when you scrolled a little way down the page to see a picture of a soaking wet and seemingly traumatized Lucas wrapped in a towel. He was standing next to a policeman who you assumed was Lucas’s grandfather.

You read the article in full detail. It told the story of how Lucas and his father were out swimming in the lake when Christopher was pulled beneath the surface of the water. Lucas was floating on a nearby wooden platform at the time of his father’s drowning. Two hours later, Lucas was rescued.

‘That poor thing...’

You were no stranger to witnessing the death of a parent, so you knew how hard it must have been for Lucas. You had been older than Lucas was when you witnessed the deaths of your parents, so you could only imagine how crushed you would have been had you been as young as he was.

As far as you could tell from reading through loads of articles, Lucas was the only eyewitness to see whatever creature you were dealing with. This struck you as peculiar since there were so many accounts of other lake monster sighting, making you believe you were not dealing with something corporeal.

You heard a knock on the door moments later, and you opened it to find Sam standing there. You invited him into your room, and the two of you sat at the small table by the window of the room to talk.

“So,” he started, “we figured out what’s up with Lucas.”

“Yeah, I did too,” you responded. “That poor kid.”

“Yeah...” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“Where’s Dean?”

“Back in our room. He’s still unpacking.”

“Jesus, how much shit does he carry around with him? He’s been unpacking for, like, forty-five minutes,” you scoffed.

“He’s slow,” Sam chuckled.

“Yeah, so I’ve gathered,” you retorted. “Oh, hey, since Lucas is the only eyewitness, we should probably try to talk to him. Andrea said she was gonna take him to the park at three back at the station. Should we go try to catch ‘em there?”

“‘S worth a shot,” the younger Winchester shrugged. You saw his eyes drift over to your bed where some of the contents of your duffel bag were scattered. He nodded at what you assumed was your sketchbook as he questioned, “You draw?”

“Yep,” you replied.

“Can I see?”

“Sure,” you nodded, leaning back in your chair to grab it off your bed. You opened it to some of your most recent drawings and let him flip through them.

“Dude, these are really good,” he complimented you.

You thanked him with a smile. “I did one of you last week.” You showed it to him.

“Thanks,” he grinned. “This is amazing.” He looked from the drawing back up to you. “But why’d you draw me?”

“Well, I draw people I find interesting,” you shrugged. "You and that freaky head of yours are interesting.”

“Who ‘re the other people you drew?”

“Not a clue,” you answered. “Like I said, people I find interesting. Randos in bars, diners, pretty much anywhere.”

“That’s so cool,” he told you. Sam handed you the book back.

“What about you?” you asked as you took it from him. “You have any fun hobbies? Hidden talents I should know about?”

“Not really,” he replied. “I mean, I like to read.”

“Lame,” you joked, leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed. “C’mon, there’s gotta be something more fun than that.”

“Well, I liked going to the gym at Stanford and going on runs.”

“Oh, so you’re a health nut,” you chuckled.

“I guess so, yeah,” Sam laughed.

Your conversation was cut short by a knock on the door.

“You girls done in there?” Dean called through the door.

“I guess we are now,” you remarked.

Sam got up and let his brother into the room as you glanced at the clock on your bedside table that read “3:15.”

“We should probably head over to the park now,” you told the boys.

“Park? Why?” Dean inquired.

“Andrea said she was bringing Lucas there at three. He’s the only eyewitness we got, so we should probably try to talk to him,” you informed him.

“Alright, let’s go.”

***

Conveniently enough for you and the Winchesters, there was only one park in Lake Manitoc since it was such a small town. You noticed Andrea sitting on a bench on the outskirts of the small field near the playground watching over here son. He was sat on the ground by another bench a little ways off from Andrea, using the bench as a table for him to color on. Lucas had crayons, paper, and what appeared to be green army men scattered on the bench.

“Can we join you?” Sam asked Andrea once you three had gotten up next to her bench.

The brunette looked up at you three, smiling as she stated, “I'm here with my son.”

“Oh,” the older Winchester started, “Mind if I say hi?” Without waiting for her answer, he went over to Lucas.

Andrea addressed you and Sam as the two of you sat on the bench next to her. “Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me.”

“I don't think that's what this is about,” Sam told her.

You watched as Dean knelt next to the young boy while Andrea and Sam talked about Christopher’s drowning. Lucas paid Dean no mind, continuing to color as Dean played with the army men on the bench briefly. He spoke a little more before grabbing a piece of paper and sitting on the bench. Dean showed off whatever he had drawn to Lucas before putting the drawing down when Lucas was unresponsive and decided to say something else to the young boy. Moments later, the older Winchester walked back over to you, Andrea, and Sam. Andrea was saying something about how Lucas had not spoken since his father’s death as Dean reached your group.

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” Sam told her. “What are the doctors saying?”

“That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she explained.

“That can't be easy. For either of you.”

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...” she trailed off and shook her head.

There was a short silence broken by Dean. “Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.”

You noticed Lucas get up from his seat by the bench out of the corner of your eye and make his way over to your group with a piece of construction paper in hand.

“You know,” Andrea began, “he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” she was caught by surprise to see Lucas suddenly next to her. “Oh, hey, sweetheart.”

Lucas ignored his mom and looked up at Dean. He handed the man the picture.

“Thanks,” Dean nodded, looking the drawing over. “Thanks, Lucas.”

You caught a glimpse of the paper, recognizing the house in it but unable to place where you had seen it.

“We’ll see you around,” Sam told Andrea as you and the Winchesters turned away from the Barrs.

You studied Dean as he looked over the picture. In your mind, he was still a dick but had made the child feel comfortable enough to communicate by some means with him.

“What are you looking at?” Dean interrogated you gruffly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

‘And he’s back to being a dick.’

***

You slept pretty well that night but woke up groggy and in deep need of coffee. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and got up from your bed, moving over to your duffel bag. You grabbed a clean black shirt from your bag along with a pair of jeans and socks. You tucked the oversized shirt into your jeans and tugged on your combat boots. After finishing your morning routine, you headed out of the door. You figured it was late enough that the boys should be up, and knocked on the door to their room. Sam opened it a few seconds later.

“I want coffee,” you stated dryly, feeling a bit like a zombie in your decaffeinated state.

“Me too,” he answered. “You want anything, Dean?”

The older brother grunted in response from somewhere within the room.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

After grabbing the Impala’s keys, you and Sam headed over to the car.

“Is he always that cheery in the mornings?” you asked referring to Dean.

“Yeah, he’s a joy to be around when he first wakes up,” Sam responded sarcastically. The two of you got into the car and Sam began to drive away from the motel.

“Ooh, I saw a cute little coffee shop over that way.” You pointed out of the passenger’s side window.

Sam followed your instructions, and soon the two of you were off for a drive in the neighborhood around the lake with coffees in hand.

You straightened up in your seat when you saw an ambulance in front of the Carlton house. “Pull over.”

Sam did as told, and the two of you hopped out of the car. There were several other onlookers standing near the house.

“What happened?” you asked one of the older women nearby.

“Oh, the young man who lived here, Will Carlton,” she began, putting a hand on her chest, “he died last night.”

“What?” Sam asked incredulously.

“The poor thing drowned.”

“How?” You gave the woman a quizzical look.

“I don’t really understand it myself,” she laughed uncomfortably, “he drowned in the sink. His father didn’t find him till this morning.”

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath.

“Poor Bill,” the older woman sighed, looking at the house. “First his godson in May, then his daughter, and now Will.”

“His godson?” Sam questioned.

“Christopher Barr.”

You looked up at Sam, who looked down at you with a confused expression that mirrored your own.

You said your goodbyes to the older woman and headed back to the car.

“This just gets weirder all the time,” Sam commented as he drove the two of you away from the scene.

“At least now we know there’s a connection to Bill Carlton,” you reminded him.

“But what did he do to deserve this?”

“Hell if I know.”

***

You and Sam filled Dean in on the situation as soon as you walked into the boys’ shared motel room.

“What the hell? So you're right,” Dean said, talking to Sam, “this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.”

“Yeah, but what?” you asked.

“I don't know,” he told you in an annoyed tone as if you had asked a stupid question. “Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...” he trailed off. He straightened up and his eyes grew wider as he came to a realization. “Water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake.”

“Yeah.”

“Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time,” you added.

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean got up from the bed as he spoke, his stress level seeming to rise slightly. “This is gonna happen again soon.” He sat down on one of the chairs at the table near the window.

“And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton,” Sam mentioned.

“Yeah, it took both his kids,” the older Winchester acknowledged.

“And this lady at the Carlton house said that Chris was Bill’s godson,” you explained.

Dean looked up at you and Sam. “Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.”

***

Your attempted questioning of Mr. Carlton had gone unsuccessfully.

“My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please,” the older man dismissed you. Through the duration of his visit, he refused to look up from the boards of the wooden dock. His posture had been slumped over, and his facial expression remained solemn.

“We’re sorry,” you told him before you followed the boys back to the car.

“What do you think?” Sam asked.

“Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell,” Dean replied. “I also think he's not telling us something.”

“So now what?” the younger brother inquired, leaning on the roof of the car.

“Huh,” you let out.

“What?” Sam asked.

“You got Lucas’s drawing on you by any chance?” you asked Dean.

He looked at you questioningly but pulled it out of his jacket pocket nonetheless.

You unfolded the paper and held it up next to the Carlton house. Lucas had drawn Bill’s house on the paper, which is why the drawing looked familiar to you.

“Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something,” Dean commented.

***

You and the boys were just inside the door of the Barr household, trying to get Andrea to let Dean talk to Lucas.

“I'm sorry,” Andrea expressed, “but I don't think it's a good idea.”

“I just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes,” Dean pleaded.

“He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?”

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there,” Sam explained.

“My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all.”

You could tell Andrea did not really think that.

“If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son,” Dean tried one last time.

Andrea gave in, showing you and the boys down the hall to Lucas’s room. Your group found Lucas sitting on the floor surrounded by drawings and army men. He was coloring another picture.

Dean walked into the room and crouched down beside the boy’s setup. “You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.”

You looked over at what Lucas was drawing. It was a person in the water. You quirked an eyebrow at it as Dean placed the picture of the Carlton house in front of Lucas.

“How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me,” Dean offered.

Lucas ignored him.

“You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.”

That seemingly touched something within Lucas, who dropped the crayon and looked up at the older Winchester.

You heard Andrea suck in a breath as Lucas handed Dean a picture of a white church, a yellow two-story house, and a little boy with a red bicycle.

“Thanks, Lucas,” Dean said quietly.

***

“Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died,” Dean brought up as he drove along the highway. The three of you were attempting to find the place Lucas had drawn.

“There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies,” Sam explained.

“Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please,” Dean remarked.

You leaned forward on your elbows on the back of the leather front seat. “All right, we got another house to find.”

“The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone,” Dean brought up, his tone once again implying what he thought you were suggesting was stupid.

Sam looked at the picture, which he held in his hand. “See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here.”

“Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart,” the older brother mocked. SAM

“You know, um...” Sam started. “What you said about Mom...You never told me that before.”

“It's no big deal,” Dean shrugged.

Sam looked at him with his signature puppy dog eyes expression.

“Oh God,” the older Winchester groaned. “We're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?”

***

You and the boys walked up to the yellow house that matched the one in the drawing. The house just so happened to be across the street from a church just like Lucas had drawn.

You were greeted at the door by a petite old woman. “Hello,” she smiled.

“Hi,” you grinned back. “I’m (Y/N), this is Sam and Dean--” you gestured between the two boys, “--we just have a question for you.”

“Come in, come in.” Her friendly disposition was incredibly welcoming as she allowed you and the Winchesters into her home.

“We're sorry to bother you, ma'am,” Dean began, “but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle.”

The woman’s formerly cheery disposition suddenly shifted to solemn. “No sir. Not for a very long time.” She looked over at a picture of a smiling little boy on a table in the living room. “Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now.” She turned back to you and the boys. “The police never—I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” The woman’s voice wavered as she spoke.

Your eyebrows turned upwards out of sympathy for her.

Sam nudged your elbow and pointed out toy soldiers sitting on one of the side tables.

“Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying.” The woman echoed Bill Carlton’s earlier statement.

“Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” the older Winchester question.

“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up,” the woman whimpered.

Dean picked up a picture off of a mirror in the room. It was of two little boys in boy scout uniforms, one of them being Peter with his red bicycle. “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy,” Dean read from the back of the photo.

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam stated softly. “We’ll just be going now. Thank you for your time.” He and his brother turned to head out of the door.

The woman turned away, her sniffles tugging on your heartstrings as you went to follow the boys.

“Mrs. Sweeney?”

She turned to you, as did the boys, who watched from the door.

“Can I give you a hug?”

She seemed surprised by your question but accepted your offer nonetheless. As soon as you wrapped your arms around her, she broke down into sobs.

“I’m so sorry about Peter,” you whispered to her.

She nodded into your shoulder as a response.

After another moment, you released her and rubbed up and down her arms. “It’ll be okay.”

She nodded once more.

You and the boys showed yourselves out. None of you said a word until about halfway through the drive.

Sam was the one to break the silence. “Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.”

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean mentioned.

“And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished.”

“So what if Bill did something to Peter?”

“What if Bill killed him?”

“Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible.” Dean’s eyes flickered to yours in the rearview mirror. “This is probably the quietest I’ve heard you since I met you, (Y/N). Wanna share what you’re thinkin’ about with the class?”

“Like you give a shit.”

“I was trying to, but fine, keep being a bitch.”

You could not believe Dean. “What, you treat me like I’m stupid, act like a dick to me for weeks, and suddenly I’m supposed to believe you’re genuinely concerned?”

“Forget I asked.”

***

The Impala pulled in front of the Carlton house, and to your surprise, you had not seen Bill sitting on the dock. You and the Winchesters got out of the car, calling out to Mr. Carlton.

You wheeled around when you heard the roar of what sounded like a boat engine.

“Guys?” you called to the boys behind you when you saw Bill driving his boat out into the lake.

You immediately broke out into a sprint, yelling for the man to turn his boat around.

Bill turned his head to look at you three standing at the edge of the dock but continued driving out. As soon as he turned his head back around, the water beneath the boat sprang up as if a bomb had been blown up beneath the surface. Bill’s boat flipped over into the water, and neither Bill nor the boat ever resurfaced.

You and the boys called Jake to the scene of Bill Carlton’s disappearance. Neighbors gathered around the lake, looking for signs of Bill, the boat, or whatever had taken him down. After Jake found nothing and questioned the neighbors who witnessed what had happened, he asked you and the Winchesters to head back to the station with him.

Once inside the station, you spotted Andrea and Lucas sitting behind the desk in the police station’s lobby.

When the young woman saw you, she bounced up and put the bag that was in her hands on the seat behind her. “Sam, Dean, (Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here.

Jake looked between your group and Andrea. “So now you're on a first-name basis,” he scoffed. “What are you doing here?” He directed the question to his daughter.

“I brought you dinner,” she explained.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time.” He shook his head and moved past her to head into his office, you and the boys hot on his tail.

The sound of Andrea’s voice made all four of you stop and turn around.

“I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”

“Right now we don't know what the truth is,” Jake relayed. “But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.”

As soon as the older man mentioned Lucas going home, the little boy jumped up with a panicked look on his face. He whined and tugged on Dean’s arm as Andrea and Lucas tried to comfort him.

Andrea managed to get her son off of Dean and pull him out of the office. You watched the pair as they left, and noticed Lucas’s eyes never left Dean.

The sheriff threw his jacket onto a chair and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he walked into the office.

You looked at Sam and the two of you supposed you were to follow Jake.

You sat in one chair, Dean sat in the other, and Sam leaned on the back of your chair just as had happened before.

The older man leaned on the front of his desk in front of your trio. “Okay, just so I'm clear, you see,” Jake trailed off, recovering a moment later, “something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?”

“Yep, that about sums it up,” you replied.

“And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?” Jake casually mentioned.

You managed to keep a poker face on, but apparently, Dean gave you away.

“That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three.”

“See, now, we can explain that--” Dean started, but was immediately cut off by the officer.

“Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again.” Jake jutted his finger in your face as he spoke, his tone harsh.

“Door number two is... rather appealing.” You were trying to keep up your plucky attitude despite your circumstance.

“That's the one I'd pick,” he said sharply.

***

You had your head against the window, legs tossed to the side of you as the hum of the Impala’s engine was slowly lulling you to sleep.

Sam’s voice pulled you out of your haze. “Green.”

“What?” Dean asked. Apparently, he had been in a daze, too.

‘Not good considering this asshole’s the one driving.’

“Light's green,” Sam elaborated.

Dean turned right.

“Uh, the interstate's the other way,” you yawned,

“I know.”

“Okay--” you dragged out the word, “--so why are you heading back to Lake Manitoc?”

“Cause I think we still got more work to do,” he responded.

“But Dean, this job, I think it’s over,” Sam interjected.

“I'm not so sure,” Dean replied shortly.

Sam gave his brother more pushback. “If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”

“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?” Dean argued.

“But why would you think that?”

“Because Lucas was really scared.”

The younger Winchester was caught by surprise. “That's what this is about?”

You were caught by surprise, too, but for a different reason. Once again, the scents of coconut and tobacco filled the air.

“I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay.” Dean tried to play off his concern nonchalantly, but you could see right through the bullshit act.

“Y’know, I’m actually with Dean on this one,” you declared.

Dean quirked a brow at you in the rearview mirror, but you simply shrugged at him.

“Who are you two? And what have you done with (Y/N) and Dean?” Sam quipped sarcastically, glancing between you and his brother with a confused expression.

There was a slight pause before both you and Dean said in unison, “Shut up.”

***

“Are you sure about this?” Sam looked around as you and the Winchesters stood on the front porch of the Barr house. “It's pretty late, man.”

Dean ignored him, ringing the doorbell. Immediately it opened to reveal a panicked Lucas.

“Lucas? Lucas!” Dean called after the boy as he took off into the house.

You followed behind Dean as all four of you sprinted through the house. You heard a splash beneath your feet and realized water was pouring down the stairs in front of you. Lucas started to pound on the door that led to where the water was coming from, which you assumed was a bathroom.

Dean pulled Lucas out of the way just before you gave a powerful kick to the door, effectively knocking it in.

Inside the bathroom, the tub was filled to the brim with murky, brown water. You jumped out of the way to let Sam try to pull Andrea out of there, knowing he would be a better fit for the job than you were.

Sam eventually managed to pull her out of the bathtub. They landed with Sam on his back and Andrea on top of him, sobbing and coughing up water. You immediately offered the woman a towel you had found and wrapped her in it.

Lucas threw Dean off of him and immediately wrapped his arms around his mom.

Happy to see that she was okay, you and the boys let Andrea have some privacy to get dressed. After she had done that, she and Sam went into the living room to talk while you and Dean looked for a connection to Peter Sweeney.

You found a bookshelf full of photo albums and began giving the labels a quick once-over. You found one with “Jake-- 12 years old” scrawled across the white label of the brown cover. You flipped to a page with pictures of the same Boy Scout troop that Peter Sweeney seemed to have been in from that picture you saw at the Sweeney house. You shut the book on your finger, holding your spot in the photo album.

“Whatcha got?” Dean asked.

“You’ll see.” You walked past him back into the living room. You opened the photo album to the page your finger was tabbing, putting the book in front of Andrea on the coffee table. “You recognize the kids in these pictures?”

She seemed caught off-guard, and you felt bad for potentially startling her after the night she had had.

“What? Um, no.” She took a pause. “I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” The brunette dragged her finger across the page gesturing to her dad as a young boy. Jake was standing next to who you recognized as Peter Sweeney in several of the pictures.

“Chris Barr's drowning,” Dean spoke up. “The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”

“Bill and the sheriff,” the younger man corrected his brother, “they were both involved with Peter.”

“What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?” Andrea was looking at the three of you like you were crazy.

“Lucas?” Dean’s voice brought your attention to the little boy staring out of the window. “Lucas, what is it?”

Lucas kept his gaze focused outside as he walked out of the door. Andrea continued to call after Lucas as you all followed him outside. Lucas stopped and looked at the ground and then up at the older Winchester, who stood beside him.

Dean faced Andrea. “You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?”

Andrea did as told, pulling her son away from your trio.

“You guys still have those shovels in the trunk?”

***

“Keep workin’ hard over there, sweetheart,” Dean deadpanned.

You pushed yourself off of the tree you were leaning against. “Dude, you only had two shovels and you were too busy being macho and dig whatever’s down there up yourself to let me use one of them,” you protested. “So don’t tell me shit about ‘working hard.’ But by all means--” you then started to use a mocking baby voice, “--if Dean is getting a wittle too sweaty, I’d be happy to take his pwace.”

“Nope. I got it.”

“So hush your mouth.”

He glared back at you and plunged his shovel back into the dirt when the metal part of the shovel hit another piece of metal. You and Dean both looked down at what laid beneath the ground and you helped the boys pull the object out of the dirt.

“Peter’s bike,” Sam remarked.

You heard a gun cock behind Sam and Dean. “Who are you?”

You looked up to find Jake standing there and pointing a gun at the three of you.

The boys slowly turned around.

“Put the gun down, Jake,” Sam pleaded.

Both he and Dean dropped their shovels.

“How did you know that was there?” The sheriff demanded.

The older Winchester did not answer his question. “What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake, and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.”

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” The sheriff’s lie was not even in the ballpark of convincing.

“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about.”

“Dad!” Andrea yelled, running up on the altercation.

“And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit,” Dean continued, keeping his eyes trained on Jake.

“Peter’s gonna get everyone you love--Lucas, Andrea-- and drag their bodies god knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then it’s gonna take you. It won’t stop until it does,” you informed him.

Jake looked at you as if you were stupid. “Yeah, and how do you know that?”

“Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton,” you told the older man.

“Listen to yourselves, all of you. You're insane!” he chided.

Dean scoffed. “I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake.”

“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea interrupted, her voice shaking.

“No,” her father lied. “Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous.”

The brunette wasn’t having it. “Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.”

He did.

“Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone.”

Jake looked away from his daughter, unable to form a response. The guilt was too much to bear.

“Oh my God,” Andrea breathed.

“Billy and I were at the lake,” Jake started to explain. “Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.”

‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Makes our job so much easier.’

“Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational.”

Dean was done with Jake’s skeptical attitude. “All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.”

Andrea turned her head and immediately cried, “Lucas!”

You turned your head in the direction she was looking to see the little boy leaning over the side of the lake reaching for something.

You took off, following close behind Jake as you ran. You spotted Lucas get pulled into the water by something, causing you to cry out his name.

You ran off the solid ground onto the dock, leaping into the water once you reached the edge of the platform.

You dove deep into the lake, trying your best to make out the shape of Lucas or the spirit of Peter. You went back up to the surface, taking in a deep breath.

You looked over to Andrea on the dock, and she stared back at you with a panicked expression. You shook your head, diving back below the surface.

While you did not see Lucas, you did see a boy with skin a pale gray and tattered clothing rising to the surface. You flinched back, the appearance of Peter’s spirit catching you off-guard. It grabbed Jake, who you just noticed had gone into the water and began pulling him under.

You sprang into action, swimming as fast as you could over to where Jake was being pulled down. You reached your hand down, trying to grab him, but. it was too late. You were running out of air, and because the water below was getting blacker as you went deeper, you could not see Jake anymore.

You clawed your way back to the surface, gasping for air when you came up.

Andrea looked to you frantically, and you shook your head once more.

She screamed “No!” just before splashing coming from behind you on the right caught your attention. You looked behind you to see Dean holding an unconscious Lucas to his chest. The poor little boy’s head was lying on Dean’s shoulder limply, and you and Sam swam to help him. Sam took Lucas ashore, and you checked him over to see if he would need CPR. Once you determined that he would, you immediately set to work.

You were able to revive him with two cycles of rescue breaths and chest compressions. He immediately coughed up water as air filled his lungs once more.

You got out of Andrea’s way and let her hug her son.

The scene before you-- Andrea on her knees, crying and hugging her rescued son-- was the reason why you did what you did. Seeing families reunited and given a temporary happy ending was what made you love hunting, despite how gruesome the job could get at times.

You figured that even though your life was so screwed to hell, at least you could save the lives of others.

***

Once you and the boys had changed clothes, dried off, and packed up, you began loading your stuff into the car.

Dean clearly had something on his mind, and you were not the only one to notice.

“Look, we're not gonna save everybody,” Sam reminded his brother, having figured out what Dean was mulling over.

“I know."

“Sam, Dean, (Y/N),” you heard Andrea call.

You looked up to see the young woman walking toward you with Lucas, who carried a tray of food wrapped in cellophane.

You all walked toward each other, stopping once you had met in the middle.

“We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road,” Andrea smiled. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.”

“Can I give it to them now?” Lucas asked his mom.

The sound of his voice made you smile.

“Of course.” The young woman kissed her son’s head.

“Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car.” Dena led Lucas over to the car, and you stayed with Sam to talk to Andrea.

“How you holding up?” the younger Winchester asked her.

“It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?”

“Andrea, I'm sorry,” Sam sighed.

Andrea shook her head. “You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that.”

You heard Dean talking to Lucas from behind you, and you turned around to face them as Dean spoke. “All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time.”

“Zeppelin rules!”

“That's right. Up high.”

The two boys high-fived as you, Sam, and Andrea began walking over to them.

“You take care of your mom, okay?” Dean told Lucas.

“All right.”

Andrea leaned over the open door of the Impala that Dean stood behind and pressed her lips to his.

“Thank you,” she said to him.

You rolled your eyes, pissed at him for his ability to pick up whoever he wanted.

He scratched his head, walking around to the other side of the car. “Sam, (Y/N), move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.”

You got into the seat behind Dean, waving to Andrea and Lucas who were waving back at you as Dean backed the Impala out of its parking spot.

Once you were on the road, you spoke up over the music. “Y’know, I’m not dissin’ on Zeppelin because I love them, but there were so many other amazing bands that ‘rule’ that you could’ve told Lucas about.”

Dean groaned. “Really? You’re picking a fight with me about that?”

“I’m not picking a fight, I’m giving my honest opinion,” you replied.

“Okay, well, who would you ‘ve told Lucas about?” he questioned.

“Um, how ‘bout Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, Queen, need I go on?”

“I cannot believe you just said Fleetwood Mac is better than Zeppelin,” he stated incredulously.

“It’s fucking Stevie Nicks, dude, of course Fleetwood’s better than Zeppelin,” you argued. “She’s a goddess.”

Dean turned left onto the Insterstate, picking up the Impala’s speed. “Robert Plant’s better.”

“Yeah, no,” you responded dryly.

Instead of responding verbally, Dean put one of his Led Zeppelin tapes into the cassette player and cranked the volume up. “What’d you say? Can’t hear you over the greatest band of all time!”

For the first time since you met him, you laughed at Dean’s antics. “You are such an idiot!”

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Series Rewrite Tags:

@rach5ive @ppeachygemss

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #supernatural #dean #sam #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #supernatural rewrite #supernatural reader insert #SPN #spn reader insert #spn series rewrite #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural series rewrite dean x reader

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mary-magizoologist · 6 years

Text

Dead in the Water | Part 1

Characters: Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester

Pairing: eventual Sam x Reader

Words: 1939

Summary: Sam, Dean and you go to a small town called Lake Manitoc to investigate a series of weird murders, and the only leads you have are the ones given by a kid named Lucas. Based on the third episode of the first season of the show.

Warnings: language, show level angst and violence.

A/N: This is a new part of my Series Rewrite. Hope you guys like it! Please press the heart and consider sharing, and leaving some feedback, it’s what keeps me going. This is not beta’d. All mistakes are mine.

Catch up

Dean in the Water - Part 1

Sam, Dean and you are eating in the restaurant of a hotel on the road called Lynnwood Inn. Dean’s plate is pretty much empty and he’s checking the obituaries in a newspaper. You are checking the ones he’s circling when you see one pretty odd about a girl named Sophie who drowned.

“This one…” you say, pointing out for him to circle it.

He does it and you’re distracted by a waitress who comes and talks to Dean.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asks.

You look up and see Dean grinning at her around the pen he’s chewing on. You grimace at all the flirting. Sam then comes over and sits down next to you.

“Just the check, please,” he says.

“Okay,” she walks showing a big smile.

Dean drops his head, then looks at Sam.

“You know, Sam,” he starts, “we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” He points at the waitress and you check that she’s wearing very short shorts. “That's fun,” he says.

Sam and you look at him.

“I don’t wanna block you, but please, next time don’t flirt in front of me,” you tease him.

“Just because you don’t get any action doesn’t mean I can’t get any action,” he told you.

“I can get action if I want to, I just… don’t want to,” you shrug.

“Yeah, sure,” he said.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

Dean hands Sam the newspaper.

“Here, take a look at this, I think we got one,” he showed Sam.

Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.

“A funeral?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” you answered. “They buried an empty coffin. For some closure I suppose.”

“Closure?” he asked, “What closure? People don't just disappear. Other people just stop looking for them.”

“Something you want to say to me?” Dean inquired, making you groan.

“The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day.”

“Exactly,” Dean said. “So what are we supposed to do?”

“I don't know. Something. Anything,” Sam told him.

“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?”

“Yeah, I know you do, it's just—”

“I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years,” Dean cut him off, “while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?”

There was a long pause in which Sam and Dean began a staring contest of hard looks, Sam rolled his eyes and the waitress walked by distracting Dean.

“All right,” Sam agreed, “Lake Manitoc,” no answer from Dean. “Hey!”

Dean returns his attention to Sam.

“Huh?” Dean hummed.

“How far?” asked Sam

You got back on the road again, your journey musicalized with Round and Round by Ratt on the stereo, you watched a clothesline with white sheets in one place, a little bit further was a man fishing on a small bridge. After a while, you see the “Welcome to Lake Manitoc, WI” sign. You go straight to the Carlton house. Dean pulls up in front of it and stops the engine. You get out and go to knock on the door. A man opens it.

“Will Carlton?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, that's right,” he answers

“I'm Agent Ford,” Dean lies, “This is Agent Hamill and Agent Fisher. We're with the US Wildlife Service,” he shows up a fake ID.

Will takes you around to the lake, his father Bill is sitting on a bench on the dock.

“She was about a hundred yards out,” Will explains to us looking at the lake, “That's where she got dragged down.”

“And you're sure she didn't just drown?” Dean asks.

“Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer,” Will answered. “She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

“So no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam wonders.

“No,” Will shakes his head. “That's what I'm telling you.”

“Did you see any shadows in the water?” You add, “Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?”

“No,” Will denied. “Again, she was really far out there.”

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean asked.

“No, never. Why?” Will frowned, “Why, what do you think's out there?”

“We'll let you know as soon as we do,” you calm him.

Dean and you turn to head back to the car.

“What about your father?” Sam questions, making Dean and you to stop walking and turn back. “Can we talk to him?”

Will turns to look at his father, then turns back to you. “Look, if you don't mind, I mean... He didn't see anything and he kind of been through a lot,” he states.

“We understand,” Sam nods.

After that, the three of you go back to the car and drive up to the police station to talk to Sheriff Jake Devins.

“Now, I'm sorry,” Jake says, “but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?” he lets you into the station to go to his office.

“You sure it's accidental?” Sam asks him. “Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.”

“Like what?” the sheriff sighs while you get into his office. “Here, sit, please, “ he motions the chairs in front of his desk. “There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake,” he states, “There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.”

“Yeah,” Dean nods, chuckling, “Right.” He glances at Sam and you.

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks,” Jake said looking at us. “Still—” he continued and sat down, “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

“I’m sorry, but that's weird, though,” you say, “I mean, that's the third missing body reported this year.”

“I know,” he nods, ”These are people from my town. These are people I care about.”

“I know,” Dean responds.

“Anyway…” Jake sighs, leaning back in his chair, “All this...it won't be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” you frown.

“Well, the dam, of course,” he states.

“Of course, the dam,” Dean looks at Sam and you, “It's, uh, it sprung a leak,” he agrees.

“It's falling apart,” he declares, “And the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.”

“Exactly,” Dean nods.

Someone taps on the door, interrupting the conversation. You turn to see a young woman coming in. "Sorry, am I interrupting?” she apologizes and all of you stand up. “I can come back later.”

“Gentlemen and lady,” Jake said, “This is my daughter.”

“Hi,” you greet her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dean says shaking her hand. “I’m Dean.”

“Andrea Barr,” she introduces, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Dean smiles.

You shake your head fighting the urge to laugh.

“They’re from Wildlife Service,” Jake says, “About the lake.”

“Oh,” she deadpans.

A boy walks in and around Andrea.

“Oh, hey there,” Dean says, “What’s your name?”

The kid just walks away without speaking and Andrea follows him.

“His name is Lucas,” Jake explains.

You turn back and look at the main room where Andrea and Lucas are.

“Is he okay?” Sam asks.

“My grandson's been through a lot,” Jake explains. “We all have.” He stands and goes to the door. “Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”

The four of you walk to leave the office.

“Thank you, Jake,” you thank him. “You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?”

“Lakefront Motel,” Andrea answers. “Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south.”

“Two—would you mind showing us?” Dean asked.

Andrea laughs. “You want me to walk you two blocks?”

“Not if it's any trouble,” Dean says.

“I'm heading that way anyway,” she nods and turns to Jake, “I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three.”

She then turns to Lucas, “We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?” she kisses him on the head.

Dean wave as you leave and Jake nods.

“Thanks again,” Sam says.

Outside, Andrea leads your way along the street.

“So, cute kid,” Dean tells her.

“Thanks,” she says.

“Kids are the best, huh?” he mentions, Andrea glances at him and ignores him.

You look at Sam, frowning and feeling the cringe. You keep walking until you stop in front of the Lakefront Motel.

“There it is,” Andrea points, “Like I said, two blocks.”

“Thanks,” you and Sam say in unison.

Andrea looks at Dean. “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” She leaves and calls back over he shoulder, “Enjoy your stay!”

That’s when you lose it and start laughing.

“'Kids are the best'?” Sam mocks. “You don't even like kids.”

“I love kids,” Dean shrugs.

“Name three children that you even know,” Sam dares.

Dean thinks and comes up with nothing. Sam waves a hand and walks into the hotel, leaving Dean scratching his head and whining that he’s thinking.

“Dude,” you pat his shoulder, “That made my skin crawl of how lame that was.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

You got a room at the motel Andrea recommended you. Sam was working on his laptop, you were lying in one of the beds, and Dean was going through his clothing.

“So there are the three drowning victims this year,” Sam acknowledged.

“Any before that?” Dean asked.

“Uh, yeah...” Sam answered, checking the browsers he has open with The Lake Manitoc Tribune, the local newspaper. “Six more, spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace.”

Dean folds his clothes and tosses them onto the bed. “So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?”

“This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me,” Sam shakes his head.

”Why?” Dean asked coming to read over our shoulders.

“Loch Ness,” he started to number, “Uh, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing. Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it.”

“Wait,” Dean says pointing at the screen. You get up and crawl to them. “Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?”

“It’s Andrea’s last name,” you remind him, standing next to them and looking at the computer.

“Christopher Barr, the victim in May,” Sam reads. He clicks a link opening a new page. You read the header “Local man in tragic accident.” A picture of Lucas loads up. “Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued.”

You suddenly felt goosebumps on your back and shudder. Dean looks at you.

Sam clicks the picture for a better look, then scratches his head. “Maybe we have an eyewitness after all.”

“No wonder that kid was so freaked out,” Dean states. “Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over.”

Next Part

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grimcygnet · 2 years

Text

pretty proud of this little scene of little jackie and helen i made in hero forge

#AUTISM HANDS #ghost band oc #ghost ghouls #ghoul oc #nameless ghoul oc #the band ghost #hero forge #fire ghoul #water ghoul #jackie's like 10 ish #im super proud of how natural the poses look execpt for helens stiff arm behind jackie <3 #i just think they should be just a little closer maybe too #spillways of your pen

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poetsandwriters · 7 years

Quote

Denis Johnson...told us that we should keep two notebooks. In the first, he said, we were to write in the usual way—fretting, second-guessing, brooding. The second one, he said, was different because it was governed by a single rule—this notebook had to be a space where the pen never left the page, where we wrote everything down, no matter how bizarre or reckless it felt. The first notebook is your enemy, he told us, and the second is the only thing worth committing your lives to. I think of all the rough edges, impulsive leaps, obsessive engines, and quirky spillways of intellection that give my life its deepest meanings and pleasures. And what it all shares, of course, is born of that ‘second notebook.’

Michael McGriff, in this week’s Writers Recommend (Poets & Writers, 2017)

#MIchael McGriff #on writing #true for writing #Denis Johnson #Writers Recommend #Poets & Writers #why we write #writing tips #writing advice #writing habits #writing process #writer's life #notebook #lit #literature #quote #quotes

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takemetotheriotofthestars · 7 years

Text

The Silent Boy (Dead in the Water S1, Ep3, Pt1)

Supernatural Season 1 Episode 3 Part 1 Warnings: Swearing Words: 2,291

Masterlist

The smell of greasy diner food and the clinking of utensils against plates along with the chatter of customers filled the air of the small restaurant you sat in. Dean sat across from you eating his fries while you and Sam your burgers, occasionally you would steal a couple of fries off of Dean’s plate when he was occupied with reading the newspaper in front of him. Whenever he caught you, he would give you a dirty glare before returning to reading the paper. You finished up your plate and sipped out of your glass as a waitress walked to your table and gave each of you a smile. “Can I get you anything else?” She asks politely, you look at Dean with a raised eyebrow, expecting him to ask for pie or another plate of fries. Instead, he eyes her up and down, chewing on the pen in his mouth. He grinned at her, eyes sparkling. “Just the check, please.” Sam says, giving her a polite smile. “Okay.” She said, walking away. Dean looked at Sam with a disappointed look on his face. “You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in awhile.” Dean says, he pointed the pen at the waitress. “That's fun.” You shook your head and reached for the newspaper on the table. “So, what have we got?” You ask as you scanned the articles. “Take a look at this” He taps the pen on the article. ”I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.” “A funeral?” You and Sam ask in sync, an eyebrow raised. You look at Dean as Sam read the article. “Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever.” Dean shrugged, Your eyebrows were scrunched as you leaned forward, pressing your arms into the table. “Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.“ Sam says, he stared at his brother. “Something you want to say to me?” “The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day.” Sam states, you press your lips together. This was not a fight you wanted to get into. “Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?” Dean asks, he opens his arm in a gesture. His green eyes stared at Sam without blinking. “I don't know. Something. Anything.” “You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?” You look away and bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself jumping into the argument. “Yeah, I know you do, it's just—” “I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?” Dean cuts him off before the waitress walks by distracting him, you roll your eyes as Sam opens his mouth once more. “Okay, so Lake Manitoc. Hey!” You cut off Sam from furthering the argument, you snap your fingers to get Dean’s attention. “Huh?” He says, looking at you. You sighed and leaned back against the booth seats. “How far is it?” *** You let out a yawn as Dean pulled in front of the Carlton house, turning off the engine. The three of you exited the car and walked up the steps to the home. Dean knocked on the door and a man opened it. “Will Carlton?” Dean asks, the man looks between the three of you before his eyes land on Dean. “Yeah, that's right.” He answered. “I'm Agent Ford. This is Agent Hamill and that’s Agent Smith. We're with the US Wildlife Service.” Dean held up an ID, Carlton looked at it before he stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him. “This way.” He mumbles, walking down the steps and around the house, you and the boys follow him as he lead you to the lake. A man sat on a bench, staring at the calm waters. “She was about a hundred yards out.” Will says, he looks at the water. “That's where she got dragged down.” You glance at the lake before looking back at Will. “And you're sure she didn't just drown?” Dean asks, Will shakes his head. “Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer.” Will says, looking at Dean “She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.” “So no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam asks. “No, that's what I'm telling you.” Will states, he looks at the three of you. “Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” You ask, he shakes his head. “No. Again, she was really far out there.” “You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean asks, he looks at Will. “No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?” Will looks between the water and Dean. “We'll let you know as soon as we do.” Dean says before turning around and walking back to the car, you look at the man sitting on the bench. “What about your father?” You ask, shifting your eyes back to Will. “Can we talk to him?” Dean turns around while Will looks at his father before looking back at you. “Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot.” “We understand.” You and Sam say in sync before heading back to the Impala. *** “Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?” The sheriff asked. “You sure it's accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.” Sam says, he stares at the sheriff without looking away. “Like what?” You and the boys follow Jake, the sheriff, into his office. He gestures to the chairs for you to sit down in, the boys took the seats before you got the chance to claim one. “There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.” “Yeah.” Dean laughs, you roll your eyes at Jake’s statement. “Right.” Sam glances at Dean before returning his eyes back to Jake. “Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still—” Jake sat down in his own chair and took a sip of his drink before placing it back onto the desk. “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.” “That's weird” You say, catching Jake’s attention “Isn’t that the third missing body this year.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. “I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about.” Jake sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, I know.” You say. “Anyway... All this...it won't be a problem much longer.” Jake says, you glance at the Winchester boys before giving a questioning stare at Jake. “What do you mean?” Dean asks, he leans forward a bit. “Well, the dam, of course.” Jake looks between the three of you with a bit of confusion on his face. “Of course, the dam. It's, uh, it sprung a leak.” Dean says. “It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.” You nod, opening your mouth to say something else but stopped once a female voice interrupted you. “Sorry, am I interrupting?” You turn around and spotted a female a little bit older than you, she had brown hair and brown eyes. She stood in the doorway, her hand resting on the frame. Sam and Dean stood up behind you. “I can come back later.” “Lady, Gentlemen, this is my daughter.” Jake says, gesturing to the female in front of you. “It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean.” The older brother held out his hand and the female took it. “Andrea Barr. Hi.” She says, a smile on her face. “Hi.” Dean replies, you rolled your eyes. This man tries to get in every attractive female’s pant he sees. “They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake.” Jake says, Andrea’s mouth forms in an O shape. A boy walks through the doorway a moment later, he looked around eight years old. “Oh, hey there. What's your name?” Dean asks, the boy walks away without speaking and Andrea follows. “His name is Lucas.” Jake says, Andrea hands Lucas a box of crayons. “Is he okay?” Sam asks, Jake nods. “My grandson's been through a lot. We all have.” Jake sighs “Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.” The four of you leave the office, you looked at the boy as you heard Dean speak. “Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?” “Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south.” Andrea says, a smile on her face. “Two—would you mind showing us?” Dean asks, you roll your eyes once again as Andrea laughs. “You want me to walk you two blocks?” She questions, Dean nods with a smile.

“Not if it's any trouble.” “I'm headed that way anyway.” She says before turning to look at her father. “I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three.” She looks at Lucas. “We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?” She says before bending down and placing a kiss on his head. “Thanks again.” You say to Jake as the four of you exited the police station. *** You trailed behind Andrea and Dean with Sam next to you as you listened to Dean try to make conversation with the girl. “So, cute kid.” Dean says, he glances at Andrea before returning his look to the path in front of them. “Thanks.” She replies, stopping in her tracks and looking both ways before all of you crossed the street. “Kids are the best, huh?” Andrea glances at Dean before looking away, you couldn't help but snicker at Dean who shot you a glare once he heard it. A few minutes later, you arrived in front of a motel. “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.” She says, you give her a polite smile. “Thanks.” You say, she looks at Dean. “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” You snort as she walks away and yells over her shoulder “Enjoy your stay!” You stare at Dean with a smile spreading across your face. “Kids are the best'? You don't even like kids.” Sam says, you nod. “I love kids.” Dean states. “Really? Name three kids that you even know.” You say with a raised eyebrow, Dean looked away in thought before coming up with nothing. “See?” You shake your head and walk towards the motel. “I'm thinking!” Dean yells, you laugh as you push open the door to the lobby. *** Sam was typing away at his laptop as you did the same to your own, Dean was going through his clothing. “So there's the three drowning victims this year.” Sam says, not looking away from his computer. “Any before that?” Dean asks, you nod. “Yeah” You say, clicking through some pages “Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace.” Dean tosses a shirt onto the bed. “So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?” Dean asks, you shrug. “This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me.” Sam says, you glance at him. He’s looking at his brother. Dean looks over Sam’s shoulder as he reads whatever is on his screen. “Why?” “Loch Ness, uh, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing.” Sam says, his eyes on the screen. “Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it.” You lean against the headboard of the bed, your fingers resting on the keys of the computer in your lap. Sam scrolls through the comments section of the article. “Wait” Dean says, pointing at the screen “Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?” “Christopher Barr, the victim in May.” Sam reads, you get up from the bed and walk over to the boys before reading a couple of the comments. Sam clicks a link, opening a new page. The bold words of the title stand out on the screen. “Local man in tragic accident.” You read, your eyes shifted to the picture next to it. It was of a police officer with Lucas. “Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued.” Sam says, you looked at Dean, he stared at the screen. Sam clicked another picture. “Maybe we have an eyewitness after all.” Sam said, you rubbed your eyes and took a step back. “No wonder the kid won’t speak, he’s so fucked up after seeing his father die.” You look at Dean and Sam. “It’s not something that you get over with.”

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 years

Text

Dead in the Water- Part 1

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,692

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Summary: Still searching for the father that raised you, this time, a hunt takes you to Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. You investigate mysterious drownings and hope to prevent any more drownings.

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this.

Read the backstory for this episode here. You don’t have to read it first but it is highly encouraged.

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With how hunts were going, you hoped that the hunt Dean found was going to be a lot easier than the last one. You still couldn’t believe Dean would just throw himself in the line of fire like he did. You wanted to go with him to defend him and be with him but no, he had to do that alone.

You were just glad he was alright. You were ready to kick some serious ass if he didn’t make it out of the cave. You really shouldn’t be thinking this hard about it because at the end of the day, he was just doing his job.

But what Sam said about you liking Dean, now that was true but you would never admit it. The beautiful man was a ladies’ man and he liked to hook up. You, not so much. You wanted a relationship and Dean didn’t want that. So, keeping your distance would be best for you.

However, Dean was staring at the paper in front of him with a blank look, ignoring you a bit.

“Dean, are we going to discuss this or not?” You looked at the eldest Winchester with a frown. Sam was in the bathroom and you were getting irritated.

A waitress, by the name of Wendy, passed by your table, stopping in front of Dean. She was super skinny, blonde hair, and flirty eyes that won’t quit.

“Can I get you anything else?” She leaned down, showing off a bit of cleavage. You rolled your eyes at this. It was like she chose to ignore you and only pay attention to Dean. You mean, could you blame her? Dean was attractive as hell. Dean looked up at the foreign voice and smirked, the pen he was using, still in his mouth.

“No, thank you, just the check, please.” You rolled your eyes.

“Okay.” She gave you a side glare as she walked away, putting a little sway in her hips.

“You know, Y/N, we are allowed to have fun once in a while and that,” he pointed to the descending Wendy. “Is fun.”

“Really? With her? She seemed kind of like a slut.” You bit your lip and looked away, wishing Sam would come back.

“Ooo, is someone jealous?” Dean chuckled, noticing your tone.

“Me? Jealous of her? I don’t think so. I bet she hops on any kind of dick she sees; no offense,” You let out a breath of relief when you saw Sam walk over to your table. “We got a case.”

Dean looked at you and he was thinking all sorts of things. He looked at his brother and nodded.

“Yeah, listen to this: A woman named Sophie Carlton walks into Lake Manitoc in Wisconsin but doesn’t walk back out. Authorities searched everywhere but they didn’t find anything. Sophie is the third person to drown in this lake this year alone. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral for her two days ago.” Dean explained.

“A funeral?” Sam asked, confused, sitting at the table.

“Yeah, it’s weird, they buried and empty coffin for, uh, closure or some shit.” Dean shook his head.

“Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.” Sam looked at you quickly but looked back to Dean. The conversation you had with Sam on the last hunt was ringing in your ears. He was just upset that Jessica was gone and you couldn’t blame him but that gave him no reason to take it out on you or his brother.

“Something you want to say to me?” Dean asked, raising and eyebrow.

“The trail for Dad, it’s getting colder every day.” Sam sighed.

“Exactly, so what are we supposed to do?” Dean started getting fed up.

“I don’t know, anything, something.” Sam shrugged.

“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?” Dean glared at his brother.

“Yeah, I know you do,” Sam started to say.

“Y/N and I are the ones that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're going to kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?” Dean scoffed. Wendy walked by again and Dean lost focus for a minute, looking at her ass as she passed.

“Hey,” you swatted Dean’s shoulder to get him to look at you. “You got an address or something?” You looked at him. He nodded and you stood up, placing some money on the table.

“Good, let’s go.” Sam said, doing the exact same thing. Dean got up and led you and Sam to the door but caught Wendy’s eye. He smirked and winked at her before you pushed him closer to the door.

“Keep it in your pants.” You rolled your eyes.

“Buzzkill.” Dean copied your action. He got to his beloved car and got in, along with you and Sam and in no time, you were speeding down the road to Sophie’s family’s house.

“Here, Dean.” You handed him a badge and Sam a badge from the box in the backseat. It was a badge for the US Wildlife Service. You got out of the car, looking at the small cabin. It looked homey if someone didn’t just die. You walked to the front door, knocking on it. A man, presumably Sophie’s brother, opened the door.

“Will Carlton?” Dean asked, standing next to you.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Will nodded.

“I’m Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamill and that’s Agent Winston. We’re with the US Wildlife Service.” Dean held up a badge, pointing to you and Sam respectively. You showed your badge with a tight smile. You really needed to make this more official looking but technology didn’t want to cooperate with you.

Will nodded and he grabbed his jacket, pulling it on, walking outside.

“Come with me, my dad is out there.” He led you, Sam and Dean to the dock where you saw Bill Carlton, sitting on the bench there.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened to your sister.” Dean asked, looking around.

“She was about a hundred yards out. That’s where she got dragged down.” Wil stated.

“You’re sure she just didn’t drown?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, she was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.” Will shoved his hands in his pockets.

“So no splashing or signs of distress?” Sam asked.

“No, that’s what I’m telling you.” Will was starting to get a bit aggravated and you could tell. You nodded and looked at him.

“I believe you, Will, we all do. Just tell me, did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” You asked gently.

“No, again she was really far out there.”

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean wondered.

“No, never, why? What do you think’s out there?” Will was curious and sometimes, that was a bad thing.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we do,” You smiled. You watched as Dean headed back to his car but you needed to know something. “What about your dad? Can we talk to him?”

“Look, if you don't mind, I mean... he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot.” Will looked uncomfortable but you understood.

“Of course, I understand.” You touched his shoulder as to comfort him and walked away with Sam.

“I think we should try the Sheriff’s station. They would have records of it there.” Sam suggested, getting into the car.

“Worth a shot.” You shrugged, getting in behind him. Dean started the car and made a U-turn, leaving the property of Bill Carlton and going over to the local police station. When you got there, it was dead inside and outside and you were grateful of that. You liked it when there was less people. It lessened the risk of eavesdropping.

You walked inside and looked around, not seeing a person by the front desk to help you.

“Sheriff?” You called out. You bit your lip, something you also did when you were nervous.

“Yeah?” An older looking gentleman came out of an office and looked at you, Sam and Dean.

“We’re with the US Wildlife Service and we have a few questions about Sophie Carlton’s drowning.” You held up your badge and smiled. You’ve been doing this a long time to lie well.

“I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?” Sheriff Jake Devins opened the mini door to let you through, assuming he was going to go back to his office.

“You sure it’s accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.” Sam said.

“Like what?” Devins asked, confused. He walked back into his office and pointed to the chairs by his desk. “Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.” Dean snickered at that and you nudged his shoulder, shaking your head at him. Laughing was not appropriate right now.

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still,” Devins sat behind his desk and sighed. “We searched that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

“That’s strange, honestly. That’s the third missing body this year.” You said.

“You think I don’t know that? These people are from my town; people I care about. Anyway, all this, won’t be a problem much longer.”

“Why’s that?” Sam asked, leaning a bit closer.

“Well the dam, of course. It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.” Jake was about to say more when a woman knocked on the door, silencing him.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” This woman was really young, black hair, brown eyes and really skinny. She was beautiful but of course, you knew Dean would immediately jump at the chance to “get to know her” and you couldn’t let that happen. “I can come back later.”

“Gentleman, ma’am, this is my daughter.” You walked in front of Dean before he had a chance to do anything and shook her hand.

“Andrea Barr, nice to meet you.” You smiled politely, letting go of her hand. You looked down when you saw a boy with a full head of dirty blonde hair.

“Who’s this?” You looked at the boy but he didn’t say a word. The little boy looked fearful; eyes wide and biting his lip. You frowned, tilting your head. The boy walked away, out of the sheriff’s office.

“That’s Lucas, my grandson.” Jake said from behind you. Andrea followed her son, giving him some crayons and pieces of paper to doodle on while she was going to talk to Sam and Dean.

“He’s been through a lot, we all have.” Andrea sighed, looking at him draw. You walked away from the group and got down on your knees, to his height.

“Hi, Lucas, my name is Y/N.” You said, not expecting an answer out of him. You didn’t get one and you sighed, standing up. You knew he was special but you couldn’t place your finger on it. You looked at what he was drawing but didn’t know what it was.

“Well, if there is anything I can do for you, please, let me know.” Andrea said to Dean.

“Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?” Dean asked.

“Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner and it's about two blocks south.” Andrea said before her dad could answer.

“Two—would you mind showing us?” Dean asked, acting confused.

“Oh, give me a break,” You muttered to yourself. Apparently, Sam heard because he smiled, letting out a soft chuckle.

“You want me to walk you two blocks?” Andrea tilted her head to the side.

“No, it’s fine, I got it. Thank you, Andrea.” You put your hands on Dean’s wide shoulders and pushed him to the door.

“Thank you for your time.” Sam said, following you and Dean out.

“Why do you have to do this to me?” Dean complained, walking in the direction that Andrea said. You walked besides Dean and shook your head.

“You know we have a case to do and all you can think about is getting into someone’s pants. First the waitress and now her? Dean, she’s been through a lot and I don’t think hitting on her is going to help.” You walked ahead of the boys, biting your already nubby nail.

“What’s her problem?” Dean looked at his brother. Sam obviously knew what was wrong but he shrugged, pretending like he didn’t. You ended up getting one motel room because it was cheaper and it wasn’t like you were staying there long. You would take the couch and Dean and Sam could have the beds.

No way were you going to share a bed with Sam. He was way too big and snored very loudly. There was no way you would sleep with Dean because you wouldn’t be sleeping, knowing that Dean was right next to you.

Right when you walked into the room, Sam sat down at the table and fumbled with his laptop, looking further into the case. You sat down at one of the beds, shedding your jacket off. It was silent in the room for 5 minutes when Sam spoke.

“So there’s the three drownings this year…” Sam thought out loud.

“Yeah? Any more before that?” Dean asked, going through his duffel bag.

“Uh, yeah, actually. Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace.” Sam put a hand on his jaw and stared at the computer screen intently.

“So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?” Dean commented.

“This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me.” Sam shook his head, sounding a bit uneasy.

“Why? What’s in that big brain of yours?” You got up, going over to Sam and looking at the screen.

“Loch Ness, uh, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing. Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it.” Sam said, frustrated. You would be frustrated as well if you knew something was going on but you couldn’t place your finger on it. Sam was scrolling through the article online when a name caught your attention.

“Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Isn’t that the last name of Andrea and Lucas?” You scrunched your eyebrows together.

“Yeah, Christopher Barr was the victim in May,” Sam scrolled down even further and his mouth dropped to a little ‘o’ shape. “Oh, Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned two hours before the kid got rescued.”

“Maybe there is an eye witness after all,” Dean said. “No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over.” You frowned at Dean’s words, flashes of your childhood coming back to you.

“No, you don’t.” You whispered. You frowned and sat on the bed, looking at the carpet.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have thought before I spoke.” Dean apologized.

“No, it’s okay, it was a long time ago. I barely remember it.” You lied, a little distracted. You had to stop being such a baby. You had a job to do and being distracted was a risk; a risk you couldn’t afford.

“Y/N?” Sam cautiously said.

“We should go find Andrea and Lucas. I think I overheard them saying they would be going to the playground at her dad’s office.” You got up, grabbing your jacket and heading outside. You couldn’t think about your mom right now. Not long after, Dean and Sam were behind you, ready to follow your instructions.

You got to the park not long after that and your eyes fell on Andrea who was sitting on one of the benches. You looked at the boys and walked to her.

“Mind if we join you?” Sam asked, startling her. She looked back and smiled when she saw it was only you and the brothers.

“I’m with my son.” She scooted over to make room for Dean and Sam. You, on the other hand wanted to speak with Lucas. You could relate more to him than Dean or Sam ever could.

“Mind if I say hi?” When she gave you her approval, you headed over to Lucas and sat at the table he was sitting. You looked at the drawings that he was making and two caught your attention. One was a black swirl and the other was of a red bicycle. Why would a little boy draw those? You smiled when you saw green toy soldiers and that reminded you of the time when you and Sam secretly shoved toy soldiers in the Impala.

“Hey, these are pretty good. You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while?” you asked Lucas gently. He didn’t look up and didn’t say a word but you picked up a crayon anyways and started to draw on a blank sheet of paper.

“You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was about your age, I saw something.

“Anyway, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh, believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.” You sighed when he didn’t say a word.

“Alright, well nice talking to you, Lucas.” You got up, dusting off yourself and rejoining the boys and Andrea.

“Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident.” You heard Andrea say when you got to her.

“I tried but I got nothing.” Your shoulder sagged a bit.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam looked at Andrea.

“That’s it’s a kind of post-traumatic stress. We moved in with my dad. He helps a lot. It's just... when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...” Andrea trailed off.

“Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.” You looked at Dean and Sam who caught your eyes. You’ve been through hell and you know that Dean and Sam have too. Granted, Sam was just a baby when his mom died but the things he went through with his dad. It wasn’t easy.

“You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men,” Andrea stopped talking when she saw her son walk over to them. “Hey, sweetie.” He walked right up to you and handed you a picture. You smiled and looked at it, noticing Lucas walked off again.

“Thank, Lucas!” You said after him. No response came from him. This was something you could work with. You knew you were getting somewhere with him.

“You doing okay?” Dean asked you, the next day, in the motel room.

“Yeah, why?” You looked over at him, seeing him fumble with his fingers.

“It’s just what happened with your mom…” He trailed off.

“Dean, I said I’m fine. I don’t remember it.” You lied.

“Do you remember what you told me, growing up? When I would get angry or sad about my mom?” Dean asked you, scooting closer to you.

“Don’t bottle it up.” You whispered. It was true, it was unhealthy to do that to yourself. All that pent-up energy must go somewhere and if you’re not getting it out, it’ll build and build until you can’t take it anymore. Just like water boiling in a kettle.

“Exactly. Just remember that, okay?” You two were interrupted by Sam walking inside the room.

“So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie.”

“What do you mean?” Dean moved away from you but you missed his warmth. That man was like a space heater.

“I just drove past the Carlton house and there was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.” Your mouth opened a bit and you let out a sigh. This hunt was getting more confusing by the minute.

“He drowned?” Dean assumed.

“Yeah, in the sink.”

“What the hell? So, you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.” Dean confirmed everyone’s thoughts.

“Yeah, but what? Where do we ever start looking?” You asked.

“I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Demon? I mean, something that controls water,” Dean’s head perked up as if he figured the problem out. “Water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake.” You and Sam said at the same time.

“Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining; it'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time.”

“If it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean added.

“This has to do with Bill Carlton since it took both of his children,” You bit your lip. “Wait, I remember reading something in that article the other day. Lucas’ dad, Chris, is Bill Carlton’s godson.” You looked at Dean who stood up and grabbed his keys.

“Let’s pay Mr. Carlton a visit.”

Masterlist // Series Rewrite Masterlist

Series Rewrite tags:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19

Forever tags:

@shorter-than-sammy @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @jpadjackles @notnaturalanahi @mysteriouslyme81 @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm

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