#that time when he thought bobby was dead so he left him a voicemail saying

[lakemichigans]

dean's first reaction to everything is to kill himself. he is so real for that

[half-bakedboy]

it’s okay (not to be okay)

(read on ao3) 

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “Great idea. Eddie really shouldn’t be exerting himself right now.”

“Seriously, Buck?” Eddie asked, standing up with a huff.

Buck didn’t have time to be frustrated, because Bobby was instructing him to assist with other patients and he had a job to do.

(Two jobs, if he counted protecting Eddie from himself.)

___________________________

[From: Ana]

Eddie had a panic attack and was taken to the hospital. He’s okay, but he’s struggling, Buck. I can’t get through to him, but I think you can. 

[From: Ana]

He doesn’t want anyone to know. Chris had to tell the doctor he was shot. I don’t know what to do.

[From: Ana]

He just dropped me off at my house. Maybe someone should check on him later?

Buck stared down at the messages on his phone, panic thrumming through his body with each passing moment. He ran his fingers through his hair and held in the breath he had sharply inhaled to hold back his own alarm. It was a feeling he was used to, one that he grew to absorb and hold back because he couldn’t let it interfere with his life, his job. He needed a clear head and when he didn’t have one, the panic would become too much to handle, a cross he couldn’t and wouldn’t let himself bear.

Eddie didn’t panic. Eddie was the one who didn’t make rash decisions, who thought through everything before he acted, who kept everyone else calm in each crisis the team had. His level head made him an amazing soldier, a phenomenal firefighter, an ideal father, and… well, everything Buck had ever wanted to be. 

So to say he was worried about Ana’s texts was an understatement. 

He held his phone up to his ear and when the sound of Eddie’s voice rung through the speaker, he deflated. The familiar sound of Eddie’s always professional voicemail pissed him off more than anything so he wasn’t about to give up. He dialed the other number saved into his favorites and after a few rings, rustling sounded through. 

“Buck?” Christopher asked, voice muffled with sleep. Buck checked the time on his watch and sighed. 

“I’m sorry, buddy, you go to sleep. I was just trying to reach—”

“Dad’s not gonna answer.” 

Christopher said the words so matter-of-factly that Buck felt his heartbeat speed up. 

“You think so? Why is that?” 

“He told me and Ana not to tell anyone,” Christopher began. 

Buck could hear his pout and he wanted to ruffle his hair and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he had to convince himself of it first. Christopher could see right through him and he wasn’t willing to have the kid lose sleep over his own nerves. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Buck promised, “but can you let me know what your dad is doing right now?” 

“He’s in bed. He didn’t even take a shower and he loves showers,” Christopher exaggerated. Buck let out a huff of laughter. 

“You’re observant, you know that?” A few moments of silence passed and even through the phone, Buck could hear Christopher’s worry. “Hey, he’s okay, right?”

“I think so.” He didn’t sound sure. 

“Well, both Ana and I are looking after him and you know who else is?” Buck asked. 

“Who?” Christopher whispered. His breathing was starting to slow, his voice sounding even more muffled as he slowly lulled himself to sleep. 

“ You . He’s okay because he has you, just like he always has, got it?” 

“Got it,” Chris agreed quietly. “Love you, Buck,” he added. 

The line went dead before Buck could say it back, but he figured Chris knew what his response would be anyway. 

___________________________

Over the next day, Buck did what he did best. He watched. He noted Eddie’s behavior. He considered the inflections of his voice, the content of his words, the way he handled himself. To any outsider, it was like nothing ever happened. 

Buck wasn’t just anyone, especially to Eddie.

He pretended not to notice Eddie’s hesitation when he was tasked with helping Chim wire the air traffic controller. He pretended that Eddie’s hand didn’t feel too heavy on his shoulder when he stood up to quickly diagnose the other man with a potential panic attack. 

He pretended he didn’t see the way Eddie’s hands trembled a little more than they usually did after a call while they made their way to the fire truck and ambulances with the victims. He pretended not to see Eddie close his eyes for a few moments and take a deep breath, in and out, calculated like it wasn’t quite second nature anymore. 

It wasn’t until they entered the emergency department that he had ammo for confrontation. 

“Hey, what was with that doctor on the way in? Why is she asking if you’re alright?” Buck asked. He played nonchalance really well but he could be proud of himself for that later. 

“It was nothing.” Buck just stared and Eddie sighed. “I wasn’t feeling well the other day, so… she checked me out.” 

“She’s a cardiologist. At a hospital,” Buck supplied. He knew Eddie didn’t think he was that stupid—or at least, he hoped. “Are you saying you had a heart attack?” Buck asked, immediately concerned that maybe he didn’t let Ana and Christopher in on the full story. 

“No, I’m not saying I had a heart attack. I’m saying the opposite,” Eddie said smugly, “I’m saying I didn’t have a heart attack.” 

“But you did think you were having a heart attack,” Buck appended. He was leading Eddie to the point, feigning dumb for the good of the situation, but Eddie wouldn’t budge. 

“Can we just drop this?” 

Before Buck could argue, Hen walked over and asked, “Guys, want us to tag you out?” Eddie agreed, but Buck felt his annoyance rise within him. He couldn’t stop himself from his next words. 

“Great idea. Eddie really shouldn’t be exerting himself right now.” 

“Seriously, Buck?” Eddie asked, standing up with a huff. 

Buck didn’t have time to be frustrated, because Bobby was instructing him to assist with other patients and he had a job to do. 

(Two jobs, if he counted protecting Eddie from himself.) 

___________________________

The front door to Eddie's apartment slammed and Buck could see the tension jerk at Eddie’s shoulders. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Buck questioned. 

“There wasn’t anything to tell, Buck,” Eddie said stubbornly. Buck would have smacked him if he wasn’t so worried. 

“Nothing to tell, huh?” He held up his hand and counted off his fingers as he listed off, “You had a presumed heart attack and were sent by ambulance to the hospital. Turns out it was a panic attack and when asked if there were any stressors lately, you lied to the doctor about getting shot—”

“I didn’t lie, I—”

Eddie stopped himself when Buck’s glare narrowed even further. 

“Your son had to tell the doctor that you were shot,” Buck corrected. Eddie pressed his lips together, unwilling to argue. “You almost have another panic attack on a scene and tell approximately no one only have a full-blown meltdown on a helicopter that’s hanging on by a thread in the middle of a rescue. Am I missing anything?” Buck asked, though it was clear he wasn’t looking for an answer. 

“I’m fine—” Eddie began. 

Buck waltzed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him as hard as he could while still being aware of the bullet hole-shaped scar left behind from those few months ago. The scar that might have physically stayed on Eddie, but lingered in the back of Buck’s mind every single day. 

“You’re not fine, Eddie! You almost died and you’re sitting here like life goes on and nothing has changed.” 

“Nothing has. It was a panic attack, not another near-death experience.” 

“You say another like it’s a normal occurrence in people’s lives,” Buck exclaimed. “It’s not! It’s not normal for people to get shot and survive—not once, but twice. It’s not normal for people to just move on with their lives like they weren’t nearly ended. It’s not normal to carry on like nothing is wrong when something is fucking wrong, Eddie!” 

“Buck, you should take a step back—” 

Buck pushed himself away before Eddie’s hands could press against his shoulders, that thumbprint on his pulse that reminded both of them that they were still there. He leaned against the wall behind him, unable to hold himself up without assistance anymore, and sighed.

“You didn’t tell me,” Buck said, a whisper of admission into the air between them like a secret Buck wasn’t ready to tell. 

“I couldn’t,” Eddie muttered. 

“You couldn’t?” Buck scoffed. “You didn’t trust me? You didn’t want me to exhaust you with my worry? Give me one good reason why you couldn’t tell me!” 

“Because then it’s real, Buck, okay?!” Eddie yelled. He ran his hands through his hair before he pounded a fist against the wall beside him. It would hurt in the morning, that much was obvious by the sound that echoed through the empty room. 

“What?” Buck asked quietly. Eddie breathed deeply like he hadn’t taken in air in months. Buck wasn’t convinced he had. 

“If you don’t know, then I can forget it’s happening. I’m not reminded of that moment where the pain was so great that I couldn’t hold myself up and only trusted myself to reach out to you to pick me back up. I’m not haunted by the fact that I almost made my son an orphan for the third time in his life. If you don’t know, then I can pretend it never happened and move forward.”

“From what, Eddie? You can’t just move forward. You know that,” Buck prodded. 

“Yeah, well, I sure as hell can try .” 

They both paused, taking the moment of silence to breathe, to think, to figure out what was next. 

Eddie made the first move, walking over to where Buck had leaned back against the wall and matched his position. He pressed their shoulders together, his eyes glued to the way Buck’s chest moved up and down slowly, imitating the movement as if he wasn’t sure he would be able to do it himself. 

Buck yearned to reach out and hold him, but instead, he asked the questions that lingered on his mind. 

“When are going to let us—any of us—in? When are you going to let me help you ? When are you going to admit that you’re not okay?” 

Eddie didn’t—couldn’t—answer, but the shake in his shoulders was unmistakable.

As he slid down the wall, Buck followed his every move, wrapping an arm around his waist to ease the fall. When they landed, Eddie pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and let out a gutwrenching sob that had tears bubbling behind Buck’s eyelids. He held them back as best he could because, at that moment, nothing else could matter but Eddie. 

Cries of pain, anguish, fear, every horrible emotion that had been welling up inside of both of them burst from Eddie’s mouth and he fell into Buck for the support he extended. He clawed at the collar of Buck’s shirt, his nails raking against the skin of Buck’s chest, but nothing was as painful as the way Eddie gasped at the breaths that didn’t seem to come as quickly as he needed them to. 

Buck held Eddie’s hand to his heart so he could feel the simple rise and fall of his chest and mimic it again. His other hand grasped at the shirt of Eddie’s back to keep his panic away, his own way of anchoring himself there so he could continue to be the solid weight Eddie needed to push through. 

Every part of them was entangled and Eddie had no choice but to press his face into Buck’s neck. Buck hoped his heartbeat stayed solid enough to remind Eddie they were both still alive, even if it felt like they weren’t. 

“I’ve got you, Eds, I’m here. I won’t let you go, never.” 

It was too much to say, too easy for Eddie to read into the double entendre of his words and Buck selfishly hoped he was too lost in his own mind to realize it. 

But the words or the touch or the steady calmness Buck forced himself into seemed to ease Eddie out of the attack of emotions that surged through him. Little by little, Eddie’s sobs turned to hiccups, his tears turned to trickles, and the white-knuckled grip he had on Buck loosened but didn’t fall. He breathed in time with Buck, his heartbeat slowing to its correct rhythm, and the tremors in his body settled to occasional chills. 

“Buck?” Eddie asked, as if he barely realized what was happening inside of him. 

“I’m here,” Buck reassured. 

Eddie shook his head and when he finally glanced up, all Buck could see was the redness around his eyes and the tear stains that looked too permanent on his skin. 

“I’m not okay,” Eddie admitted— finally —before pressing his face back into Buck’s neck with a whimper like the words were painful to acknowledge out loud.

“Yeah, Eddie, I know.” 

Buck couldn’t resist kissing the top of his head and letting his lips linger for just a second too long. 

“I need your help,” Eddie said, his voice graveled with emotion.

“You’ve got it,” he promised again.

“Yeah, Buck, I know,” Eddie teased because of course, even in his darkest moment, he had to get the last word in and it had to be something full of that sarcastic barrier he protected himself with. 

Buck let him, though, because he figured Eddie knew what his response would be anyway. 

[crashdevlin]

Swan Song

Author’s Note: This is part Twenty-six of The Best Laid Plans series

Summary: Y/n is living life without marks and without alpha influence...but the End is nigh...sacrifices must be made.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, mentions of Alpha!Dean x Omega!Lisa

Word count: 3583

Story Warnings:  angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, mentions of physical violence against the reader, canon major character deaths and resurrections

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, where are we this week, girl? Hawaii, Puerto Rico?" Bobby asked and you smiled, looking around the dirty Canadian dive bar.

"Santo Domingo. Gotta love the Dominican," you lied.

"Where you really?"

You took a drink of your beer and picked at the peeling vinyl of the table top. "Saskatoon. Cursed church bell, drives people to suicide when they hear it."

"Need help?"

"Nah. I've got this. Just need to convince the vicar to let me melt down a bell that's been part of their church since the 1800s. No big deal." You sighed and scratched at your turtleneck. "How are they?"

"Thought you didn't wanna know about them, Y/n."

"Didn't want to be attached to them. Not the same thing."

Bobby sighed. "They took a trip through Heaven a few days ago...got a message from the big man Himself."

"God? They talked to God?" you asked, eyes wide.

"Talked to someone talks to God...and God said they're on their own."

"Sounds like God...handle it yourself but worship me for 'guiding' you." You rolled your eyes. "Sam isn't taking that well, is he?"

"Dean's taking it worse."

"What? Dean doesn't care about God."

"Think it's more that God was the last hope and He ain't playin'. What are we even supposed to do now, right?"

"Right." A hopeless Dean Winchester was a problem. No telling what he might do. “I’m sure everything will work out. If God isn’t worried, then I guess we shouldn’t worry.”

"Well, I hope you're right, Y/n." You nodded. You were hoping the same. "I'll call next time we got something new."

"Okay. Good luck, Bobby."

"You too."

You slid your phone into your pocket and took a drink of your beer. Things would be fine...or they wouldn't. Only time could tell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't answer when the call came in from Dean's number. You didn't answer five minutes later when the call came in from Dean's other number. You pulled off into a gas station when your phone dinged with a voicemail message.

"Shoulda known you wouldn't answer...but I really wanted to hear your voice, Y/n. Guess your outgoing message will have to do." He cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about you since you left. Nothing is ever right when you're gone. I think you need to know that. I know why you left. I know I was never really good at being with you. I didn't give you a reason to stay. I should have. But you...you had to leave. You had to make that hard decision and I love you for that. Nobody wanted you to make that decision, to free us, but it was the right choice and I love that you made it. I love you for calling me out on my bullshit. You always did that for me." He sniffled and you could imagine him wiping at his eyes. "And you always kept tryin', even though I pushed you away all the time. You should have given up on me a long time ago and you didn't. I love you, Y/n. I should have said it a long time ago...but more I should have showed you. I should have showed you."

You wiped at your eyes and bit your bottom lip. "I really hope you got to see the world, but if you're on the home continent…stay away from the Midwest. I don't know how big the fight's gonna get."

"Oh, God. Dean, what are you doing?" you whispered as you clicked out of your voicemail to call him back. He didn't answer. "Damn it, Winchester!" You called his other cell, but still didn't get an answer. So you called John's cell. "Where’s Dean?"

John sighed. "Indiana. He's on the goodbye tour."

You rolled your eyes. Indiana meant Lisa. Of course. "He's going to say 'yes', isn't he? After everything, he's going to give up?"

"We aren't going to let him. Sam, Castiel, and I are on our way to stop him."

"You better. He does not get to give up."

"We won't let him," John promised.

"How?"

"We've got an angel on our side, remember? And Castiel really isn't happy about Dean throwing away his sacrifice. We'll keep him safe."

You let out a sigh of relief and nodded. "Let me know if anything bad-"

"Don't worry. We're gonna take care of him."

"Thank you, John."

"Maybe you should call him, though."

"I tried," you responded. "He didn't answer." You shook your head. "It's fine. Get his head on straight. It'll be okay."

"Right. It'll be okay."

"Bye, John." You hung up and set the phone on the passenger seat. You looked up at the sky through your windshield. "I know you don't care about what your angels are doing, but please don't let Dean say 'yes'. Please. I don't ask for a lot but please give me this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should come to Detroit." Bobby's words didn't seem worried. Everything about the tone said it was past time to worry.

"What happened?"

"Sam said 'yes' and-"

"What?!"

"It was supposed to be the end of it, Y/n. He was supposed to get control back from Lucifer and jump into the Cage. It was a good plan. Dean and John even approved it, much as they could, ya know, and it-"

"He really thought he was gonna get control from the Devil? Of course it didn't work!" You ran your hand down your face and dug your fingers into your collarbone through your shirt. "So Lucifer has his perfect vessel...what about Michael? Dean didn’t…"

"No, but John's other son did. Heaven brought Adam back from the dead."

"That was nice of 'em. The dumbass said 'yes' because of course he did. So...the fight is...is happening."

"Yeah." He waited a moment. "Come to Detroit."

You sighed. The End. The end of the fight. The end of trying to stop it. The end of the End. "I'm on my way, Bobby."

There was a dark cloud over the city when you pulled the Firebird in next to the Impala in the alleyway outside their hotel. You could feel the hopelessness in the air as you opened the door Bobby indicated in an earlier text and walked in. Dean's eyes raised to meet yours as Bobby rushed to you and wrapped you in a hug. You dropped your duffel and wrapped the redneck in your arms, happy to see him up out of the wheelchair.

"Since when do you walk again?"

"Oh." He looked down at his body as he stepped back. "Demon deal. Added perk. It's a long story."

"Family tradition, those demon deals. At least you got something good out of it."

"Fer a few days."

You patted his shoulder and smiled. "Comes down to it, all we got is a few days at a time."

Dean stood and stepped toward the doorway. "Hey."

"Hey. I'm sorry...about Sam. I know you were all hoping-"

Dean opened his arms but didn't hug you. He waited for you to step into the embrace, green eyes shining with unshed tears as he waited for you to make your choice. There wasn’t a big choice there. Hold a grudge...or hold the man you love. You stepped into him and wrapped your arms around his chest. His arms closed around you and you felt warmth and anguish in the way he held you. There was pain in his scent, anger and hopelessness, but there was a little niggle of comfort as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

There wasn’t a lot said. It was the first time it really felt like a last night on earth. Even the Angel seemed to recognize that things were done. The fight was over. Everything was about to be over.

“I want you to know,” Dean whispered as the sun started going down.

“I know,” you answered. You knew what he would say. It held different significance on a night like that one.

“No. You don’t. You really don’t know...I’ve apologized for pushin’ you away, Y/n, but I need you to know...I thought I was doing the right thing for you. I love you.”

“Dean. I know. Shhh.”

“You’re everything I ever wanted.”

“Everything you ever wanted Sam to have,” you corrected. “Now, shush.” The silence lasted for a few minutes before Dean left, saying he needed some air.

“We did everything right and it doesn’t even matter in the end,” John said, staring at the ceiling.

“Nah. We didn’t do everything right...and it does matter. What we do is more important than anything.” You sighed and leaned forward, resting your head on your knees. “I should have gone to Thailand.”

“Don’t you want to be here with us in your last moments?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah. But I wish these weren’t the last moments.”

Castiel nodded in agreement, before standing. “We should go down...Dean is-”

“Leaving,” you guessed, rushing down to the alleyway without waiting for the others, approaching as he looked in the trunk of the Impala. “Dean?”

“You goin’ someplace?” Bobby asked. “You’re goin’ to do somethin’ stupid. You got that look.”

“I’m gonna go talk to Sam,” Dean answered, heading for the driver’s door.

“You just don’t give up,” Bobby chastised.

“It’s Sam!”

“If you couldn’t reach him here, you’re certainly not going to be able to on the battlefield,” Castiel tried.

“Well, if we’ve already lost, I guess I got nothing to lose, right?” Dean reasoned.

“Boy, this is a bad idea. I don’t wanna lose both of you,” John said.

Dean shook his head. “Too late.”

“I just want you to understand...the only thing that you’re gonna see out there is Michael killing your brother,” Castiel said.

“Well, then I ain’t gonna let him die alone.”

You watched Dean drive away, knowing that he was on his way to his death. “Fuck. We should follow him, right?”

“No. We need to figure out how to even up the chances a little,” John offered. “Hail Mary brainstorm session. Come on. Let’s do this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So...we’re all gonna die,” you said, looking around the room. “We are going to this fight...the fight...to pull distraction long enough for Dean to maybe get through to Sam long enough for Sam to sacrifice himself and throw himself and Lucifer into the Cage. We’re going to die.”

Everyone took deep breaths and nodded. “It’s our only shot,” Bobby said. “For the whole planet, Dean is our only shot.”

“And like the boy said...if we’ve already lost, what do we have to lose?” John said.

"Might as well go down doing something potentially beneficial,” you whispered. “Okay...let’s do this.”

Castiel teleported you to Stull Cemetery just in time to hear Dean tell Michael that he needed five minutes with Lucifer. “Hey, assbutt!” Cas called out, holding up his Molotov cocktail of Holy Fire. The bottle exploded as it hit Michael and he went up in flames. The Angel didn’t last long after that. Lucifer didn’t appreciate the Angel from the lower choir ‘dick’ing with Michael. Castiel exploded into blood and chunks of Angel.

Dean demanded Sam’s attention, but only Lucifer could hear. He grabbed Dean, intent to beat him to death, but Bobby shot at the Archangel, which earned him a snapped neck. John launched himself at Lucifer next and he was thrown across the cemetery, hitting a large stone angel statue. Michael reappeared as Lucifer was beating Dean’s face in with Sam’s fists. You grabbed Adam’s jacket, trying to keep Michael from stopping the altercation. Dean was getting through. You could see it in the hesitation on Sam’s face. You couldn’t let Michael stop it.

“You stupid fucking monkey!” Michael growled, wrapping Adam’s hand around your throat. You sputtered and kicked as he clenched his fist around your neck, cutting off your air. The sound your hyoid made when your throat was crushed like a soda can followed you into the darkness.

So did the sound of crickets. But that wasn’t right. There shouldn’t be crickets in Heaven.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, a sky full of stars greeting you before being filled in by the vision of hazel eyes and a smile. “John? Why are you in my Heaven?”

“Not Heaven, kid. We’re alive, Y/n. Castiel brought us back.” He offered you his hand and you sat up, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Who brought Cas back?” you asked. “Because didn’t Lucifer blow him to shit?”

“Yeah. Can only assume God brought him back, just like last time he was blown up by an Archangel.”

“Well, that’s...very nice of God considering that he...didn’t want to help.” John nodded, but he seemed distracted as he let his fingers move to encircle your wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“You...smell really good,” he whispered, his cheeks going pink. “I should…” He cleared his throat and stepped back away from you. “Think everything got renewed.”

You reached up and gingerly touched the area where your concave scars were. You were met with plush, plump skin under the fabric of your turtleneck. When you pulled the shirt away from your neck, you were met with completely smooth skin. No marks, no scars. Pristine.

"I'm…"

"Omega again." John licked his lips and stepped further back. “Unmarked, pure omega.”

“I’m...this is insane. I can’t believe he just...made me...a normal omega again.”

John nodded and cleared his throat. “I think it’s a real good thing, don’t you?”

You nodded and smiled. “I think it’s an amazing thing.”

“Why don’t we go ahead and see if we can find Dean.”

You smiled a bit sadly. “I know where Dean is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Watching Dean through the front window of Lisa Braeden’s Cicero home made your heart crack. The pain was immense, a longing taking up residence in your chest as you watched Dean hold her, his nose buried in the crook of her neck. Scenting her...his omega.

“You could knock,” John suggested, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. You were sure he was trying to keep from physically comforting you. As much as you wanted the comfort, you appreciated John trying to keep his distance more. “You know he’d be happy to see you alive.”

You shook your head. “No. He’s dreamed of this, John. He dreams of her.” You clutched at your shirt collar. You'd changed into a v-neck on the way to Indiana, excited to show Dean but you knew now that it didn't matter. "He deserves her...and the kid...and any kids she might give him of his own. He deserves to be happy. Let's just...let's go."

"Are you sure?" John asked as you turned away.

"My car is in Detroit. Let's go."

You stared out the window as John drove. It was a blow but not one you couldn't overcome. Dean wasn't ever going to be yours and it was best for you to recognize that and move forward. You were a brand new omega. No marks, no scars from cutting the old marks out. No Dean. No Sam. John, well, he was being nice now but it was going to be best for you to stay away from him, too. You would do best by yourself just like you had since you cut your marks out. You were better alone.

"Don't leave yet," John said as he pulled the stolen car in beside your Pontiac. "You should get some sleep. Get a room, get some rest. Don't drive on this."

You reached over and set your hand on his cheek. "Underneath it all, you're a good man, John. I really appreciate it when you let that man out for me." You swiped your thumb across his cheekbone and smiled. "I'll get a room...but not here. Detroit is not a good place...it's where we lost Sam. Get some rest yourself, though."

"You've got my number. If you ever need anything, Y/n, I'll be there."

You nodded and smiled tightly. "I'll try not to need anything." You got out of the car and headed for yours. Maybe you'd actually travel the world this time. Maybe you'd just hunt the same as always. But you were going to try to not need a damn thing.

You drove out of Detroit and headed South, not stopping until your eyes began to vibrate with lack of sleep. You pulled over into a rest stop and turned off the car, lying the seat back and curling up on your side, waiting for sleep to take you.

Dean would be happy. That was the important thing. Dean was going to be happy with his normal life and you could be happy saving lives...without an alpha. Without anyone. Just you and the road and a good hunt...until you died.

You dreamed of Dean. You dreamed of taking Lisa's place in the normal life...so that you could be what Dean deserved. But even in your dream, Dean made excuses. "I love you...but I can't mark you." "I love you but I can't be with you." "I love you but…"

You blinked your eyes open a few hours later and gasped to see a figure in your passenger seat. You sat up and stared wide-eyed at Sam. "Am I still asleep?"

"Well, I'm not Dean so I'm guessing you're awake."

You ignored the gut shot about Dean and reached into the back, quickly splashing holy water on him and waiting for the sizzle that never came. You pulled your silver knife next and Sam dutifully offered his hand. "Why do you idiots always go for the most nerve-heavy extremity when getting cut? Take the jacket off and give me your bicep or roll your damn pant leg up, you jerk," you snapped. Sam just smirked as he pulled his jacket and flannel off. You were really expecting him to burn with the silver but he didn’t...and moreover, he smelled like Sam. He was not a ghoul. You laughed as you dropped the knife in the center console. "How in the world did you get out of the Cage? I know how hard it is to get out of Hell, but you went into Lucifer’s Cage."

"Can't tell ya." Sam shook his head. "Just woke up in Stull Cemetery, went to check on Dean, saw you and Dad...decided to follow you."

"Why didn't you say something in Cicero?" you asked, analyzing Sam's face. He seemed off. Why would he follow you instead of talking to you and John? Talking to Dean?

"You were with Dad...and I could smell you from across the street, Y/n...I knew you came back all new and improved. Wanted to see what you would do about that. Turns out...nothing."

"You didn't tell Dean you're back?"

"Neither did you." Sam tilted his head and smirked. "He thinks we're both dead...and that means he's gonna stay in Cicero with Lisa. He's going to live a normal life with a normal woman. He's not going to die on some job before he reaches forty. He deserves that...and that's why neither of us knocked on that door."

"So, you're just gonna dive back into the work headfirst and...forget about Dean?"

"Forget? No. But I'm going to leave him the Hell alone. He left me alone at Stanford for years until Dad disappeared and Jess died. Don't you think he deserves the same treatment?"

You looked away and pulled your seat up straight. "Of course he does. He deserves everything.”

“So, we’re going to let him have it, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Sam reached out and set his hand on your knee. “And we can have what we deserve.”

You looked down at his hand, disgust filling you. “Remove it, or I will remove it for you.”

“Come on. You don’t really have a reason to deny me. Not with Dean with Lisa.”

You reached down and pulled his hand off of you. “Dean is not the reason I denied you, Sam. Why are we backtracking here? You seemed to understand this before.”

“We had fun before, didn’t we?” Sam asked.

“It doesn’t matter if we had fun...because the fun stopped mattering as soon as you marked me.” The discomfort you were feeling in his presence made you slip your hand under your seat and pick up your pistol. “You were going to rape me, Sam. That kinda ruins any future fun.”

“You would have liked it, Y/n. I wasn’t planning to hurt you too much.”

Having him admit to it so nonchalantly, with a smirk on his lips, filled you with an angry fear. He didn’t even seem to care. It was worse than when he was hopped up on demon blood. You pulled the pistol out and pointed it at Sam’s temple. “Get the fuck out of my car, Winchester.”

He chuckled and put his hands up. “I’ll see you when you get your panties out of that twist, Y/n.” He backed out of the car and turned, a bit of a skip in his step as he walked away. You hit the lock on your doors and turned the engine over. You’d have to do your best to avoid the resurrected Winchester...just like his father...just like his brother. Best to stay alone. Best to get away.

~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

[ejlovespie]

Heartbroken (Pt. 1)

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: The reader sacrificed herself to save Dean so when she comes back she is surprised and heartbroken to find him living a new life with Lisa and Ben. Will they be able to fix their broken relationship when they reunite?  

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1900

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Depression 

A/N: I would love to hear any feedback you have to give. Any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

You were on the outside looking in; in more ways than one. You stood with Sam, who was not himself, on a street of a nice suburb. You hid in the shadows and stared into a large front window on a house across the street. Inside the house, sitting around a dining table, you saw the man you loved having dinner with his new family. Sam had explained in a bored voice that the woman and the kid were Lisa and Ben, two people you had heard of but never expected to see. Sam was...off and you knew you should be concerned for him but at this moment all you could feel was pain. The sight of them all smiling and laughing together like they were in a Hallmark movie had your heart aching in a way that was so tangible. You felt like at any moment, it would give out and you would die all over again. To be clear, it wasn't the sight of Dean with them that hurt you so much; it was knowing how little he cared for you. You had died; no. You had sacrificed yourself to save him, to save the world from the apocalypse, and not even a month later he had moved on. He looked like he was finally happy. This is heartbreak you thought to yourself.

You weren't sure how long you and Sam had stood there, watching them, before you both left, leaving Dean to live his new life. You thought back to the events that led you here. You, Sam, and Samuel had woken up when you should never have. The three of you were dead but someone or something had brought you back. The first thing you had done was go find Dean.

Next, you went to find Bobby and let him in the loop. You all had agreed to leave Dean out of the current events, so you had gone your separate ways. Sam decided to join his newly discovered family while you, in a heartbroken haze, decided to move on. In a car loaned from Bobby, you drove in a daze. You weren’t sure where you would go; you just needed to get as far away from Dean as possible. You knew it wasn’t true but you had hoped if you drove far enough away, you could forget everything. Forget him.

1 Year Later 

You were sitting alone in your motel room when you got the call. You knew this day would come, when Dean found out about you, Sam, and Samuel, but you had hoped for more time. You stared at your vibrating phone and Dean’s name flashing across the screen. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, answer it so you just stared at it until it stopped. He had called you three times before your phone chirped, letting you know you had a new voicemail message, then it went silent. Shit. Your phone buzzed again as a text message popped up on your screen. Shit. Shit. It had been a really long day and you were not ready to talk to him. You eyed the bottle of liquor you had bought from the gas station on the corner and decided to get drunk and face the music in the morning.      

                                                     -

You didn’t know how much time had passed, only that your bottle was half empty. At some point the dingy room had started to spin around you. You had hoped the booze would help you to forget about your phone and the messages you had yet to read. Why couldn't you forget him? You had tried so hard over the past year. Thinking about Dean Winchester living his new apple-pie life was bittersweet; heavy on the bitter. Knowing he was out of the life, safe and happy, was the only thing that brought you any peace. You loved him with everything you had. Hell, you died to keep him and Sam safe. Then you would remember how Dean always looked at you, like he pitied you. He knew your feelings for him and because he didn’t feel the same way, he felt bad for you. Dean’s face popped into your mind then. His green eyes, flecked with gold. His strong, stubbled jaw and full lips. His smile, which was so rare but would light up a room. You may be drunk but you could never forget the details to his face. 

A groan escaped your lips and suddenly you were desperate to hear his voice again. Picking up your phone, you pulled up the voicemail you had been avoiding. You clicked the play button and held it to your ear before you could change your mind. There was a short pause before Dean spoke, 

“Y/N..It’s Dean. I know everything; Sam filled me in. Call me back.” 

He sounded pissed. With that one short message, a slew of memories filled your drunken head and all of the pain you had been trying to bury hit you at once. The sound of his gruff voice, his unique smell of whiskey, leather, and the impala. His tall, muscular body, his strong arms and hands. A tear rolled down your cheek without your permission and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand. You checked your phone again and read his text message. 

Call me. Now.

You snorted and mumbled drunkenly, “Bossy...boss pants. How are you so sexy over text. S’not fair.” 

Grabbing the bottle in front of you, you poured some more liquor into your empty glass and nearly fell out of your chair when your phone started vibrating on the table again. Dean’s name flashed across the screen and you wanted to hear his voice so badly, even if he was pissed at you. You resisted answering...until he called again and you couldn’t take it anymore. You clumsily picked up the phone and brought it to your ear and listened. 

"Y/N?"    

Dean practically barked at you on the other line. There was a short pause and then he spoke again in a more controlled voice. 

"Y/N. I know you're there." 

He sounded...sad? Frustrated? You heard a sigh and then Dean kept talking. 

"Fine. You don't have to talk. Just listen...Sam told me everything. Apparently the three of you have been back for a whole year." 

His voice was getting hard, angry again and you could hear him take a breath before going on. 

"I know you guys wanted me to have a normal life but I know now okay? I'm hunting again and I need to see you...We need to talk."

You had imagined this conversation and what you would say to him when he confronted you. Your drunken brain tried remembering the rehearsed words but you couldn't remember. At some point tears had started to roll down your cheeks. You were horrified when you opened your mouth and a strangled, broken sound came out. Dean said your name again but you couldn't listen anymore. You thought about the night you came back and your heart broke all over again. You opened your mouth the words rushed out in a sob. 

"There's nothing to talk about. Bye Dean." 

Hanging up the phone, you broke down. Your phone rang for a while before you shut it off. You sat alone, drunk in a craphole motel room, and finished your bottle of cheap booze and cried, wishing you had never been brought back. 

6 Months Later 

You were in between cases, which you hated because it left you with too much time to think. Working kept you busy, kept your thoughts away from the Winchesters, away from the past. You were at the bar, nursing a beer, when you heard a fluttering behind you. You knew what, or rather who, it was right away. You took another sip of your beer before turning in your seat to face Cas. He looked the same as always. He was wearing the same brown trench coat, blue tie, and serious expression. Cas nodded at you and then took the open seat on your right. He sat for a long moment, not saying a word. When he finally looked at you, Cas surprised you by saying, 

“You’ve lost weight. Why?”

Deciding to ignore that comment, you answered his question with one of your own. 

“What are you doing here Cas?” 

Blue eyes stared at you like they knew all of your secrets and you started to fidget in your seat a bit. 

“Sam and Dean sent me to find you. I need to take you to them.”

“You’re supposed to be a powerful angel Cas. Why are you letting the boys boss you around like you're their bitch.” 

You snorted when his face remained stoic and he said nothing again for a minute. 

“I don’t know what that means but they need to talk to you. Apparently, your phones have been disconnected but I suspect that was on purpose.”

“You suspected correctly.”

Cas sighed and an irritated look crossed over his face.

“Y/N I don’t have time for this. We’re leaving.

Before you could react, Cas had grabbed your arm and you were zapped through space and time. One minute you were in the bar and the next you had blinked and found yourself in Bobby’s living room. Looking down, you realized your beer was still in your hand. You brought it to your lips and finished it before setting it on the coffee table. Shit. You looked around the room and noticed Cas had disappeared again. Traitor. You mumbled to yourself. Picking up your empty beer bottle, you walked to the kitchen to find the trashcan and froze in the doorway.

Dean was leaning against the counter, legs crossed in front of him, looking at something on his phone. This was the first time you have seen him up close in at least two years. He was just as gorgeous as you remembered. You swore you could feel your heart skip a beat in your chest when he looked up at you and straightened. Anger filled Dean’s eyes and his jaw started to tick. Putting his phone down on the counter, he stared at you and you stared back at him and waited for him to say something. Anything. It felt like an eternity passed before he walked over to you, plucked the bottle from your hand, and tossed it in the bin behind him. Turning back to you, Dean looked you over and you panicked internally. His expression became angrier, his nose flaring slightly and his lips pursed. With gritted teeth, he said, 

“Look who Cas dragged in.” 

His words cut you, even more than his glare. You knew he was beyond pissed. You tried to turn to leave when Dean’s large hand had reached up to grip your chin, turning you back to face him. He continued to stare at you and you stared back up into his eyes. Suddenly, his arms were around you, gripping you so tightly you were having a hard time breathing. Dean’s smell surrounded you and you felt his stubbled chin rest on the top of your head. You had never hugged each other like this. Closing your eyes, you wrapped your arms around Dean and breathed him in. You knew an argument was coming but right now you would just enjoy being held by the man you love.

To Be Continued... 

Dean Girls: 

@akshi8278​

[huntertales]

Part One: Tough Love. (Bad Boys S09E07)

Episode Summary: When an old friend of Dean’s asks for help to solve a murder, Sam and the reader discover that the older Winchester as a secret past—one that will help solve the hunt. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4.591.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Silence was a rare occurrence in the bunker, even more so when everyone was home. Despite the place being vast and wide with countless rooms to occupy, you and the boys typically stuck with the same out of functionality and comfort. One room in particular quickly turned into a personal favorite among all of you when you moved in almost a year ago. The library was the perfect spot to get research done for an upcoming hunt and lounge around with a drink after a job well done. It was also the only spot where it was impossible to hear actual quietness. No sounds of talking or obscene noises that ruined the reason why Sam wanted to be here in the first place.

Out of all the rooms the bunker had to offer, it was obvious to Sam the library was his most favorite of it all. Just like you and his brother. You enjoyed it for the perfect atmosphere that it brought for research. Dean loved the comfy chairs and expensive liquor he drank on the odd occasions. It might have  been easy to guess that Sam loved the library for the several shelves of books on lore. A hunter's dream come true. While that was part of it, there were little gems spread around that had caught his attention. First editions of classic novels he heard of before, and a few he discovered by accident. Sam forgot the last time he was able to read a book that wasn't for learning about a monster or figuring out how to undo the mess of Heaven. All he wanted to do was sit down with a good book and just relax. Today felt like the day he might be able to do that. 

Sam called out his brother's name first, a few seconds later it was followed by Kevin's. His answer was dead silence. A smile crept on the edges of his lips when he stepped into the library to see that it was perfect. You looked up from your laptop when you heard Sam's voice break your concentration from what you had been working on. Dean was off somewhere else while Kevin decided to work on the translations in a different part of the bunker, hoping a change of scenery might help him focus better. You turned your attention back to the laptop to continue working, filling the air with the sounds of your keyboard tapping. A familiar tune that brought the younger Winchester back to his college days. Sam decided to join you.

Sam made his way over to the bookshelf, the exact one he'd come in here for, and glanced over the several battered hardcovers. He pretended to casually gloss over the titles as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure his brother was still gone. You wouldn't have cared about the fact that he plucked off a red cover novel that he couldn't stop thinking about. One with a familiar title of a land you both had thought was fictional. Filled with characters by the name of Dorothy and the Wicked Witch, who were in fact real people. Sam had been itching to read the series for himself to get a taste of the real magic, a fraction of the adventures Charlie was having in Oz. 

Sitting down in the chair nestled in the corner, Sam happily got himself comfortable and opened up the book to the first page, with a little too much eagerness for a series that was supposed to be written for children. No one was too old for a classic tale. However, right before Sam could even read the first word, he overheard a noise over your typing and occasional clip from the trackpad. It sounded like vibrations. A slight annoyed look crossed his face at the disruption. It only deepened when Sam watched as you continued to sit there, mindlessly scrolling through whatever was keeping your attention. Sam passively shut the book a little too loudly. You still didn't acknowledge the vibrating phone on the table across from your own.

"Please, let me." Sam muttered to himself. He set his book aside on another shelf and reluctantly made his way over to the phone. Glancing down at the caller I.D., it turned out to be a number he wasn't familiar with. Not the one to ignore a call, he pulled the charger out from the plug and answered before it could go to voicemail. "Hello?" The voice on the other line was male, and not one he was able to recognize. You finally glanced up from your laptop from what you heard next. Sam smiled to himself at the ridiculous nickname for whomever they were trying to reach. "I'm sorry, there's no Dee-dawg, uh..."

"I got it. I got it." Dean came out of nowhere, seeming to have heard the conversation from wherever he was, and plucked the phone out from his brother's hand. "Sonny, hey. So, what's up?" You shut your laptop and got up from your seat at hearing the one-sided conversation unfold, curious as to who was on the other end. Never in your life did you hear someone use a nickname like that on Dean. You wondered who this Sonny guy was. "All right. Yeah, just sit tight. I'll be there soon as I can." 

You made your way over to the boys right as Dean ended the call. You casually crossed your arms over your chest and sat down on the edge of the table, a little curious as to who contacted him. "So, what was that all about, Dee-dwag?" You couldn't help the smile that crossed your face at the nickname that sounded childish coming out from your mouth.

"Sammy, you remember when we were kids that spring in upstate New York?" Dea tried to spark an old memory in his brother's mind, despite how their childhood wasn't spent in one place for very long. They'd visited so many different places, so many small towns with motels that blurred into the same place. "Dad was on a rugaru hunt. We crashed at the, uh...the bungalow colony with the ping-pong table?'

"Yeah. You disappeared. Dad came back. You were gone. He shipped me off to Bobby's for a couple and went and found you." Sam remembered the details from the time he was twelve. While the small details were a bit fuzzy, there was no forgetting the moments when his father got beyond angry after coming back from a hunt to see disaster had struck. "You were lost on a hunt or something.”

Dean's expression changed at hearing his brother's version of the story that differed from his own, almost like it refreshed his own memory. "That’s what we told you. Right."

"I'm sorry?" You were caught off guard at what Dean said. John was never going to be father of the year in your eyes. He was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of them. You furrowed your brow in confusion. "That's what you told Sam?"

"Truth is, uh..." Dean came clean with the real version of what really happened all those years ago while you continued to listen. You and his brother both appeared to be interested as to why John felt the need to keep up the lie for so many years. What could have been so bad that Sam wasn't able to know? "I lost the food money  that Dad left for us in a card game. I knew you'd get hungry, so...I tried taking the five-finger discount at the local market and got busted. I wasn't on a hunt. They sent me to a boys' home." 

"A boys' home, like a...reform school?" You took a wild guess as to where he ended up for those few months. You didn't understand the need to cover up the truth, and why John let him stay there for all that time. You weren't a personal fan of the way John raised his children, having made a remark here and there over the years, you figured it was for the best to keep some things to yourself. It might have been one of the few moments in Dean's life where there was an actual proper guardian looking over him. Beside Bobby, of course. 

"Yeah, more or less. It was a farm, and the guy who ran it—Sonny—he, you know, he looked after me." Dean told you the rest of the story. You always enjoyed meeting people from the boys' past, it was almost like getting to discover another part of their tangled and strange childhood. 

"Wait." Sam was caught up on one detail as to why the older man was calling out of the blue. People from their past don't call just to say hello, unless there was a problem attached to that greeting in need of solving. "Does Sonny know what we do?"

"Yeah. He's good people. I gave him the number to the Bat Phone, and it sounds like he's got something in our wheelhouse." Dean said. You nodded your head in agreement at the plan. Sometimes people were believers in the supernatural, sometimes it took a strange phenomenon for them to understand. You covered your mouth with your hand when you found yourself letting out a yawn, which didn't go unnoticed. "Hey, you gonna be cool do this, or are you too tired?”

"Yeah, I'm just, uh..." You pushed yourself up to your feet and tried to get yourself to feel more awake. You blamed your sluggishness on the lack of your usual amount of caffeine. There was no way you were missing out on a hunt because you felt tired. "I'll be fine."

Dean wanted to take your word on that alone, but he wanted to be sure. He placed a hand on the back of a chair and balanced the other on the table, leaning down to ask you an odd sounding question. "And everybody's okay with heading out to the Catskills?"

You found yourself looking around the library to see who Dean might be talking to, despite the fact he was making full eye contact with you. You raised your brow slightly and smiled at his behavior. "Unless Sammy has other reservations, we are everybody.”

"Yeah. Right. All right." Dean stood back up into a standing position, pretending like everything was back to normal once more. You didn't see the strange look Sam passed his brother from the way he was acting about a certain someone. "Grab your stuff, and we'll head out." 

You rolled your eyes as you watched Dean make his way out the library to pack a few things for the hunt ahead of you. Before he could get too far, Sam stopped him. He needed to ask a question of his own about the conversation spoken just a few moments ago. "Hey, Dean...why didn't you just tell me you went to a boys' home?"

"I don't know. It was Dad's idea." Dean said. "And it just—you know, the story became the story. I was sixteen."

For some reason you felt like Dean wasn't telling you the whole story. It felt out of character for John to make up some lie to Sam. A parent would most likely make this a teachable moment. Screw up enough and you'll end up in a boys' home for a few months. You looked over at Sam to see he shared the same confused expression as yourself.

+ + +

You weren't sure what to expect when you made it to the Catskills where Sonny's home was nestled in. You heard of homes for troubled youth for behavior and crimes that weren't drastic enough for juvenile hall. An alternative that was the epitome of tough love for kids with parents who reached their end, or for those who didn’t care enough to bother trying at all. "Sonny's Home For Boys'' greeted you and the brothers of the establishment where Dean spent a few months by himself. It turned out to be exactly like Dean said, it was just a farm that had seen better days with a cozy looking home nestled on top of the hill. 

Dean parked the Impala on the dirt road that led up to the house and got out, you and Sam following quickly after. He glanced around the area to see if it might still look the way he remembered. You swore you saw a smile across his face when you happened to glance over his way, the kind someone got when returning to a happy memory. You took a look around yourself to see what made this so special. For a kid who spent his entire life from town to town, stability was something he might have craved. He had his own bed for a couple of months. Dean didn't have to worry about taking care of someone for those two months besides himself...You wondered if that’s why Dean kept it a secret. 

"You were here for two months and Dad couldn't find you?" Sam examined the farm for himself to try and see what was so special about this place that made Dean want to stay. It was another small town with acres of farmland that most likely was taken care of by the boys who stayed here. Not exactly paradise for a sixteen year old who'd been all over the country to settle for a little while.

"Oh, no. He found me quick. But he left me here 'cause I lost our money." Dean told you the reason for his extended stay, following a chuckle like it was all some funny story. You and Sam shared the same unamused sort of expression when the both of you happen to turn your heads to look at one another.

"You were sixteen." You came to the older man's defense to try and realize the punishment was a little harsh for something stupid. When you were at that age, what few months you still had left of teenage bliss, you fooled around and got yourself into deep trouble. Maybe not gambling away food money while your father abandoned you for God knows how long while you were forced to take care of another sibling...still, you felt the punishment didn't fit the crime. "You made a mistake."

"Yeah. I made the mistake." Dean said, seeming to refuse to try and see things from your perspective. "Look, I know how you guys think. None of this was Dad's fault." 

Was it ever in the eyes of Dean? You kept your thoughts to yourself and trailed behind the boys as you made your way up the porch steps. Dean knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before someone answered. It was a middle aged woman who opened up, leaving the screen door as a barrier between you and her. You noticed right away from the stern look on her face she didn't seem too pleased to see three strangers standing on the porch. You figured Sonny didn't tell her company was coming. You spotted the gold cross that hung from her neck, the size of it was too hard not to miss. A holy woman helping run a boys' home. There was nothing scarier than a God fearing woman.

The woman crossed her arms over her chest when Dean offered a friendly smile and a polite hello. "What can I do for you kids?"

"I'm Dean. This is my brother, Sam. And this is our friend, Y/N." Dean introduced all of you. "We're old buddies of Sonny's."

"Prison buddies?" She was quick to judge, causing Sam to clear his throat at the quick escalation of who Sonny was before even meeting him. You softly nudged the man in the ribs and gave him a side-eyed glare before smiling at the woman.

"No." Dean said. "You mind telling him that we're here?"

"I'll go get him." She responded a few seconds later, taking the time to give all of you a once over in some kind of way to make sure you were decent people. Not some strangers from Sonny's past he had all left where it should stay. Dean opened up the screen door and was about to step inside, but she stopped him before doing such a thing. "I just mopped this floor, so you take off those roach stompers."

Not the one to make a bad impression, you and the boys listened, slipping off your shoes so they laid on the porch before stepping inside. Sam felt the need to bring up a small fact about the man who ran this place, finding it rather odd someone who had a run-in with the law now helped troubled youth. "Sonny's an ex-con, huh?"

"What, and we're such angels?" Dean scoffed at his brother's passive judgement on the guy before he got the proper chance to meet him. "Trust me, he's more than made up for it." 

Dean stepped inside the home first with you and his brother following behind. You looked around while Dean took everything in about the place that hadn't changed since the last time he was here almost twenty years ago. The furniture was still the same as he remembered, Sonny even kept the awards in the same spot of their accomplishments. Dean didn't realize how much he missed this place, despite not wanting to be here at first when he was a teenage punk who gave the cop who arrested him a black eye. He might still have the same sarcastic charm and hatred for authority when he was a kid, but there was no doubt in his mind Sonny taught him some valuable lessons during his stay here.

"Dee-dwag!" You heard that ridiculous nickname again, this time coming from the man who gave it to Dean. You saw an older man step out from another room with a wide smile on his face at the sight of the fully grown Winchester.

"Sonny, good to see you." Dean greeted the man with the same happiness in his voice. He embraced the man into a tight hug after meeting up again after so many years apart.

"Hey, you, too, brother." Sonny said. Pulling away, he noticed that Dean didn't make the journey up here alone. He was quick to notice the tall man looming around was the little brother Dean talked so much about. "Oh, and this must be Sam." 

“Good to meet you.” Sam greeted the man with a friendly smile of his own. 

"Back at you, brother." Sonny grabbed the younger Winchester's hand to shake when he stuck it out before dropping it back down to his side. He finally turned his attention to you, trying to put a name to a face. “I don’t believe Dean mentioned you before.” 

"Sonny, this is my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N.” Dean rarely introduced you as such to people. Most of the time it was either hunting partner or family friend to strangers from his past. For some reason he felt the need to tell Sonny the deeper relationship you had with him. "She's a close family friend of ours. We’ve known each other since we were born. Circumstances broke us apart, but we actually reunited back together a year after I left this place." You looked over at him and smiled, the thought of seventeen soon-to-be eighteen Dean was a drastic difference to the man who stood in front of you today. 

"Good for you." Sonny seemed to be proud at hearing Dean had landed himself in a happy relationship. From the way you two looked at each other it was easy to tell he was head over heels in love. "He ain't giving you too much trouble now, has he?"

"Not anymore than usual. But it’s what I signed up for." You joked with Sonny. You lightly tapped Dean on his chest and flashed him a smile. “Good thing I love him.” 

Dean couldn't help the bashful sort of smile that crossed his face at hearing you say those three words to him. Normally they were saved for private moments where no one could hear you. You carelessly tossed them around and meant them. Dean felt a spark of pride hit him out of nowhere for some reason. As if he was showing Sonny he ended up okay for himself.

"So," Dean continued on with the conversation. "The farm looks."

"Oh, please, man. It's barely standing." Sonny brushed off the empty compliment that was just the polite way to make small talk before going in for the real reason why all of you were here. "Only got a handful of kids working around here."

Dean's face scrunched up slightly at hearing that news. When he was here back in the day, almost every bed was taken here with no one left without a job to do as instructed by Sonny. "Why's that?"

"Because these days, the system would rather incarcerate a boy than redeem him." Sonny replied.

"Hey, Sonny, uh," Sam happened to look across over to the dining room to spot the woman who answered the door was lingering around in an obvious sort of way. She was wiping an already clean table with a rag. You could tell she was trying to eavesdrop. Sam made sure to drop his voice to a whisper as he casually crossed his arms over his chest. "You mind if we talk alone?"

"Hey, Ruth," Sonny looked over his shoulder to see she was lingering around for whatever reason why. Maybe she wanted to know why a bunch of strangers from Sonny’s past decided to come by without a warning. "Would you please go check on the boys, make sure their money chores are getting done?"

Ruth hesitantly nodded her head before making her way somewhere far enough away to keep the conversation going without worry. "All right." Dean jumped to the real reason why all of you were here in the first place. "So, what's happening?"

"Well, you remember Jack, do you?" Sonny asked. 

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah. The tough, old leatherneck." 

"Mmhm. Well, somehow, that ancient, rusty, broken-down tractor just roared to life and ran him over the other night." Sonny shared the strange and unfortunate news of an old worker here who suffered a strange and terrible sounding death that was out of the ordinary. 

"Maybe it just slipped out of park or something." You guessed, trying to figure out a more logical reason behind it.

"Couldn't have. You know, I never believed any of this mumbo-jumbo stuff you kids are into, but...something ain't right." Sonny said. His concern made you a little bit curious as to what he meant by all of that. "Well, just things started happening—lights flickering on and off, strange scratching sounds coming from inside the walls, windows and doors slamming."

"All right. You think you can round up the boys while we take a look around?" Dean asked, having heard enough to suspect of what might be going on around here.

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem. Most are home on a break—well, except those with no home worth going to." Sonny said. 

Sonny went on to round up the boys so they wouldn't be around to disturb any of you when you got to the bottom of figuring out what might be going on. "All right. Why don't you and Y/N take the house?" Dean suggested a plan to you and his brother. "I'll check the barn."

The both of you nodded your head in agreement before going your own seperate ways to get a proper sweep of the house. Sam decided to take the upstairs part of the house while you stuck with the downstairs, thinking you might be able to cover more ground that way while Dean stuck with the parts of the farm he was familiar with. You took a sweep of the main parts of the house to see there was nothing out of the ordinary from what you usually looked for in this situation; no EMF, no sulfur and not a trace of a hex bag. Even though what Sonny described was typically signs of a spirit, it didn't hurt to check off all the boxes just to be safe if things ended up not being what you thought. 

Soon enough you made your way into the bedroom area where the boys slept after a hard day’s work. You spotted at least a half dozen twin sized beds spread around the place. Some of them were messy, a few of them were perfectly made. Sonny was right about there not being a lot of boys anymore. You looked around the place to see it almost seemed like any other bedroom. Plenty of furniture, some toys and board games lying around. You realized that this was the exact same room Dean spent two months in when he was sixteen. And you got confirmation he was here when you spotted something engraved into one of the beds.

Your fingers brushed over a hunting symbol carved into the bedpost that was most likely done by Dean himself. A smile crossed your face at the thought of teenage Dean protecting himself from evil while alone from his family, despite it only being his brother and absent father. You crouched down when you spotted some masking tape on the foot of the bed as well, making up as some kind of nameplate. Out of curiosity, you pulled off the first layer, revealing another name that you guessed belonged to another boy who slept in this bed previously. You pulled off another piece of tape, and another, and another until you came across the one you had been looking for—Dean W. 

Your head snapped away from the tape and to the door across the room when you heard rustling that broke your concentration. The door that led to the other room was opened slightly, giving you enough of a bad feeling not to go in there without some kind of precaution. Slowly, you pushed yourself back up to your feet and reached for the knife you kept tucked in the back of your jeans. You made your way over, taking cautious steps when you heard what sounded to be a whispering female voice. You didn’t take into consideration there might have been another bedroom located right next to the boys’, it was a small house after all. And it might have been Ruth’s. You discovered that a little too late. 

You pushed open the door, expecting to find the thing who killed Jack standing across from you, only it turned out to be someone else. You quickly whipped the knife behind your back when you realized it was in fact Ruth. She had been kneeling at her bed before you scared her. "I am so sorry." You quickly apologized to the woman at the accidental mishap, suddenly feeling like a fool for mistaking her whispering for something evil when it was in fact most likely a prayer from the rosary beads that was tight in her grip. "I thought I saw something in—”

"Like a ghost?" Ruth's presumption made you look at her a little funny, wondering how she managed to come up with that conclusion on her own. "Sonny told me you were old friends, but I know why you're really here. That's why I was praying for us."

"Praying for what?" 

"For the ghost that haunts this farm to leave." 

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink  // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner  // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha //   @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink //  @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans //  @icantfindacreativeurl //  @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love // @that-winged-rat

Message me if you would like to be added!

[shrimpngritcakes]

Buddie prompt #3: 9-1-1 & Lone Star crossover idea

I’m putting this idea here for someone to claim if they wish. It was originally posted on Ao3 (now with additions), but deleted it due to ToS. If anyone wants this prompt, please comment below so I can delete it after you copy it to prevent similar stories.

His breaking point was a kiss.

One he knew he wasn't supposed to see. With anyone else he would feel like a voyeur, but all he could feel was a dark emptiness opening in his chest.

With Eddie’s truck being in the shop for a tie rod that had broken while at work, sending Eddie into a storm of cursing in Spanish, Ana had picked him up for their latest date.

And dropped him off.

If was a horrible fluke that Buck had stood up to look out the window at just the wrong moment. He should have been in the spare bedroom asleep after a grueling 24 surrounded by all the things he had brought with him when he moved in all those weeks ago.

Buck makes his excuses to leave while Eddie is completely confused and trying to get him to talk. Eddie tries to call Buck but he doesn't pick up.

Buck goes to see Bobby and Athena. It all spills out, including not feeling wanted by his parents. Bobby thinks Eddie is being an idiot but keeps this to himself. He suggests a leave of absence for mental health. Bobby receives permission from his superior to place Buck on open ended leave after giving him a brief explanation of the situation. Ending with him saying to Bobby, “That poor boy. If I ever meet that boy's parents…”

Bobby answers, “Get in line, but there may not be anything left after Athena gets them first.”

TK is surprised to find a sleeping Buck in his Jeep in the parking lot of the 126. An off duty Carlos takes him back to his place where he crashes on the couch. Buck has a nightmare and Carlos talks him down.

Owen calls Bobby saying he has his boy and they'll take care of them. He has a plan and discusses it with Bobby. The whole absence makes the heart grow fonder concept.

“Is it mutual?”

“I’m not 100% sure, but…”

“You can't tell Eddie. Even if he begs for answers for his son, you need to stand strong. It needs to be him asking for himself. If this goes wrong… We'll take Buck in here. He'll have a home with the 126. It will take a while, but we'll help put him back together as best we can until he's back on his feet. He won't be alone.”

Bobby wipes at his face, “Thank you."

“Let's hope this works.”

Eddie is worried and confused why Buck never came home. His phone is going straight to voicemail. Now he isn't there for his shift. Another man comes in and introduced as Buck's temporary replacement. Eddie asks Bobby where Buck is, but he won't give him a straight answer. Eddie is shocked as Bobby's tone is harsh and he glaring at him. Bobby later apologized and explains that Buck requested that only he and Maddie know where he is. Eddie tries to dig, but Bobby just shakes his head with a, “I'm sorry, Eddie. I can't tell you.”

Eddie asks Maddie, but she just slams the door in his face. Chim doesn’t know as she's refusing to tell them where Buck is. Chim delivers her handwritten apology the next day to Eddie. It states Buck needs space from everything, but mostly leaves out the part about Eddie (only one or two things that hint, but it goes over Eddie's head).

Athena almost breaks down and calls Eddie a fool before storming away to her police cruiser. She doesn't know where he is because Bobby refuses to tell her (which she finds annoying yet commendable), but she was there for the why when Buck broke down. She'll apologize after Buck and Eddie return. Hopefully together.

Filler with Buck and the 126 and Carlos. Judd takes him out on a horse like he did Capt. Strand. Fill a pothole on how Grace and him are so accepting of TK's sexuality despite being religious.

A Facetime therapy session where Copeland assures him its okay to get away for a while.

Eddie doesn't quite realize yet that he's slowly losing it, but the others can tell.

Paul and Buck have a conversation.

Christopher asking where Buck is because it's movie night. Eddie doesn't have an answer.

Eddie rages in the station gym trying to understand. He almost gets it, but he thinks Buck is jealous of Eddie, not Ana. Cue Hen groaning under her breath, "You almost got it, Eddie. Come on. Keep thinking."

TK, Carlos, and Paul take Buck out to a club. TK talks absentmindedly to the bartender, even showing him/her a picture of Eddie from Insta. Word spreads about the "new guy," Buck. Others keep the “creeps" away from Buck. Buck loosens up a little while there.

Buck Facetimes Christopher on Carla's phone, only for Eddie to walk in just as Buck is hanging up. He sees Buck's panicked/sad face right before he hangs up. He tries to call back, but doesn't get an answer. Carla huffs and shakes her head. "Figure it out yourself, hun. I can't give you this answer. You need to find it for yourself." Cue Eddie even more confused. This is all just about Buck's parents and jealous over Ana... Isn't it?

Roller derby to cheer on Marjan with the bartender flirting with Buck, who is all kinds of flustered. Carlos, TK, and the others tease him mercilessly.

A massive fire where Buck offers his help. Paul gives Buck as sidehug in gratitude.

Eddie almost punching the mechanic because his truck still isn't done.

Marjan takes Buck out to do something crazy because she's Firefox. (Buck is still starstruck). Maybe skydiving or they race each other at wall climbing? Cue competitive banter.

Owen keeping Bobby updated on Buck.

Buck eventually asks for a transfer. Owen asks if this is what he really wants. Buck just shrugs and asks helplessly what other option he has.

(Optional: Bucks gets up quietly at night for a glass of water and stumbles onto Carlos and TK having sex/making out in the kitchen. Buck either flees in embarrassment or is stunned into watching with Carlos and TK aware that he's there. All parties awkward and/or embarrassed the next morning until TK bursts into giggles and laughter.)

Eddie's relationship with Ana is rapidly deteriorating. Christopher has a full on tantrum. Eddie has to koala hug him on the floor, after Ana brings him back home from a not very good date as Eddie's thoughts were on Buck. Ana tries to help calm him down but Chris screams at her about Buck not being around as much as soon as she started dating his dad. “I hate you! I hate you!” He yells her to get out. Ana still tries to talk. Carla snaps at her to leave. She still tries.

Eddie is spiraling. Flashback of that kiss he really wasn’t ready for, but Ana had asked. It dawns on him that that was the night Buck disappeared. Why would Buck leave because of that? Chris is repeatedly asking her to leave, but she's not listening. She's not listening to his son. He finally snaps and demands that she leaves. She storms out. Relationship dead in the water.

Carla can only watch as Eddie breaks from it all.

The original plan has failed, so it’s time for the final attempt. A blatant hammer strike to Eddie's head to knock some sense into him.

Bobby calls Eddie into his office. He shows Eddie transfer papers from Buck along with a list of Buck's possessions to be boxed and shipped. Eddie is speechless. Thoughts of Christopher and losing Buck. He's losing Buck.

He shows Eddie an email he received and Eddie slowly scrolls through, It's full of captioned pictures. Such as:

-Buck staring off into the distance on a horse.

-Buck curled on a couch looking lost.

-Buck looking drool-worthy in club clothes. The caption: “Holy sh@t! If I wasn't already happily taken…”

-Showing Buck blushing as someone talks in his ear.

-Smiling yet not reaching his eyes while dancing.

-Sitting with his head buried in his hands on the engine’s bumper.

-Helping man a hose at a large blaze captioned with “Yes, we had permission for him to be there.” Followed by a picture of someone (Paul, but Eddie can’t see his face as he’s looking at the ground and hidden by his helmet) sidehugging a sweaty dusty still geared up Buck around the neck with a hand resting on his head.

A video. It's Buck spilling everything curled up in someone's arms (maybe Carlos or Grace). “Why am I always alone! What about me?” Mentions of Abby and Ali. His failed dates. Everyone pairing up. Losing part of his sister to Chim after finally having her back in his life after so many years apart. “And Eddie! Eddie… Why does love hurt so much?” mentioning Chris. Etc.

Eddie is shaking. It finally clicks why Buck left.

One more video. It's Capt. Strand and the 126 facing the camera. He knows where Buck is now - Austin, Texas.

“Buck doesn't know we're putting all this together. He’s asleep. We may or may not have knocked him out with sleeping pills.”

They all lay it out for Eddie. Eddie feels all kinds of stupid and blind. “Now, you have a choice here, Edmundo Diaz…”

“Why… Oh my god. This entire time… ”

“Do you love him, Eddie? As more than a friend? Or am I signing these papers?”

A few seconds after Eddie runs out of the room, a sigh comes from the speaker phone. “I'll get things set up.”

“Thank you, Owen. For everything.”

“You're welcome.”

The whole firehouse going up in a cheer after Eddie floors out of the parking lot in his thankfully finally fixed truck. Hen is shaking Chim or vice versa.

Carla agrees over the phone to keep Christopher after Eddie blurts everything out to her, ending with a “Go get him, Eddie.”

“Did everyone see this but me?” Carla is laughing as she hangs up.

Buck sees Owen call TK over and whispering in his ear. Tk has an interesting reaction before running out of the room with his phone already to his ear.

Flashbacks as Eddie is scrolling through his pictures on his phone while on an airplane. How he missed it. How he didn't understand himself. His fall had been so slow he hadn't even realized it until it was almost, or maybe is, too late. His seatmate makes a comment on his happy “family," and it’s a kick to Eddie's already flayed emotions.

Judd is there to pick him up at the airport, which surprised him.

He's dropped off at a club. Judd makes a snarky comment after handing Eddie a hotel room key card through the window. Eddie rolls his eyes as Judd drives off laughing. The bouncer, having seen the Diaz blazoned on the back of his LAFD shirt, waves Eddie inside, skipping the line. The whispering starts as soon as he enters. Word had spread and they had been hoping for Buck. “Is that…”

“I think so.”

He's shocked as the crowd starts to part for him. The music lowers in volume. People are staring and he's embarrassed, etc., but he sees Buck, who TK has made sure looks phenomenal. Taking a deep breath, he squares his shoulders and walks forward.

Buck is dancing between Carlos and TK. He feels Carlos start smacking TK on the back before they pull away from him. They’re both grinning so wide he suspects their faces are hurting. TK is not so quietly squealing in excitement.

A hand covers his eyes from behind. He immediately recognizes the body wash smell. “Eddie…”

Mini conversation/argument, neither realizing the club has gone dead silent, with Eddie yelling “Because I love you, you idiot!”

The entire club loses it with TK whooping, jumping with a fist punch, and laughing.

End there with a kiss, at the hotel room which may or may not get steamy, or Buck telling Christopher he's home with Chris tackling him to the ground.

[im-like-if-a-girl]

*THE* mean-girl-dean-girl's Supernatural reboot MEGAPOST!

I'm gonna stick a little "keeping reading" here because hoooooo boy, this is a very long post.

Let's start with

Plot

Season 1

Dean kills John while they are out on a hunt in a crime of passion, but Dean doesn't remember because he blacked out. Cue Dean going to Stanford to get Sam and tell him "Dad's on a hunting trip... and he hasn't been home in a couple days."

The audience doesn't know what happened to John, but slowly figures it out with Dean and Sam as Dean slowly remembers what happened that night.

The entire first season, the boys are following the trail John left and fighting monsters as well. They find out Dean was with John, Sam realizes Dean has an unreliable memory, they have heart to hearts about their childhood and the fire, they find John's body, "how could you kill Dad?" but maybe Dean didn't kill dad, whooaaaaaa, misdirection.

It was actually good ole yeller eyes (Azazel) and he made it look like Dean killed John.

Okay, now let's move on to the first episode

Not sure how the opening would work, I would like the story of the fire to be revealed over the course of the first season, but maybe the opening scene could be a little bit of an establishing character relationships and backstory, idk, I haven't thought that far yet.

I'm thinking maybe it's like, Dean gets back to a motel room covered in blood and he listens to a voicemail on his phone from John saying he was on a hunt or something, I don't really know lol.

HOWEVER

I do know that after the intro rolls, we get a scene of Sam waking up to his alarm and "Nine to Five" by Dolly Parton starts playing.

Y'all know where this is going.

Cue a montage of Sam's normal Stanford college life (him sitting through lectures, walking through the campus with friends) spliced with scenes of Dean absolutely slaughtering a nest of vampires (or some other monsters, whatever works best.)

But

Now onto

Characters!!! (And descriptions)

Dean Winchester

Some lovely person on this site made edits of Dean with platinum blond hair and it made me feel some kind of way so we're doing that, homie's gonna have platinum blond hair

Side note about the hair, later when the brothers are running from the FBI he dyes it a dirty blond/light brown (insert jackles hair color controversy here) as a disguise.

He also gets tattoos because we were robbed.

Speaking of tattoos, concept: when Dean comes back from Hell, all of his tattoos are gone. His body is a clean slate, devoid of tattoos, scars, etc. So he gets his tattoos done all over again, which he doesn't mind because he made some bad, drunk tattoo decisions in his youth.

(And before you ask, yes, he does get one for Cas, either a bee or Cas's name in enochian, something cute.)

Dean goes to therapy after Sam gets sent to the Cage.

It's actually court mandated because he got in trouble, lol, he would never go to therapy on his own.

Along with the hair, Dean gets to be the grade A twunk we all know he is.

Sam Winchester

His hair gets longer in every scene he's in

No jk, but imagine

King of Microaggressions

Sam starts off like the sweetheart he is in season 1 but in later seasons he starts enjoying killing a little too much...

It's that demon blood, ba-by!!!

He brings up issues of morality to Dean, i.e. killing monsters who aren't hurting anyone. (Yes I know this is contradictory to my previous statement, but these two facets of Sam can and will coexist.)

Sam and Jess's relationship is explored further, meaning we'll need to start with a different inciting incident, but that's fine, I think everyone can agree fridgings are *(thumbs down)*

Sam doesn't truly know what happened the night of the fire until later, and then he understands why Dean is so protective of him.

Jess

She gets to live beyond the first episode

She is also trans

No, I don't feel like I have to explain myself and I won't 💜

She urges Sam to join Dean in a search for their brother, kind of gets pulled into the hunter lifestyle by association lol.

She dies on a rusty nail after fighting vampires on a routine hunt with Sam

No jk!!!

But imagine....

She's amazing and I love her and Lucifer also uses her as leverage against Sam and possesses her because I think that'd be cool.

She supports Sam 100% and also she and Dean are buddies, pals if you will.

She meets Cas Thee El and immediately she Knows, that is a homosexual.

She dies still so that we can have a Saileen Endgame but she's not dying the first episode or in a fridging. Not on my watch.

Castiel

He gets to keep his raw, light-fixture-exploding power.

I want more of that "I pulled you out of hell, I can throw you back in" energy except over dumb shit like Dean not cleaning up after himself.

He looks like a Dilf in every scene he's in, yeah, that's right, dilf with a capital D for *(GUNSHOTS)* *(gets sent to horny jail)*

Claire

She gets pink hair

And more time with Cas

And maybe a nose piercing

Feel like she should be able to kill a couple angels onscreen, punch a couple homophobes

She gets to meet Jack and teaches him swears and fun slang words.

She deserves it.

Jack

I says "that's my baby and I'm proud."

Jack starts off as a baby, but like Amara he grows up super quickly.

Like, baby to 11 year old in a couple days or less.

This is because Jack's emotional age on the show is on par with that of a 5th grader.

It's at this point when he's a young kid that he runs away from the Bunker and shenanigans ensue.

It's also at this point that Dean threatens to k*ll him.

(Still not sure if I want that in my Supernatural (threatened infanticide? In my Supernatural? It's more likely than you think) but we'll see. We'll see.)

Throughout a majority of season 13, Jack is like an 11 y.o. kid

Season 14 he's like a 16 y.o. teenager

Season 15 he's 21, you get the picture.

Listen, I love Alex Calvert a lot. He's great.

But Jack is a child and should be a child.

Kelly Kline

Kelly, baby, stay right where you are, you're perfect.

Eileen

SHE DOESN'T DIE

SHE GETS TO BE IN THE FINALE BECAUSE SHE'S AMAZING AND I LOVE HER.

BLURRY WIFE WHO? I ONLY KNOW SAILEEN ENDGAME!

She teaches Claire and Jack swears in sign-language. Castiel is not impressed.

John

J*hn W*nchester stans, DNI.

He's dead.

We only see him in flashbacks and only sometimes hear his voice in voice overs.

He's not "down the road" from Dean in Heaven, in fact he instead gets to wander around in some Purgatory like Hell for the rest of his time :)

People who get to say "fuck" on the show:

Cas (but only Once)

Jody

Bobby

Now onto other things

I want more of

Ghostfacers

(they need more screentime because I love them)

Dean/Benny

We know they had a thing.

They definitely had a thing.

Demon Dean

Again, I feel like more should've been done with this. All that build up for what, 2 episodes? was not utilized well at all.

Dean's Bisexuality

Straight Dean truthers DNI, my Supernatural is a show about love and being true to yourself

You think Supernatural is a show about 2 straight brothers fighting monsters?

Naw bitch, this is a show about the Gay Experience

He will get to have relations with men on this show.

Of course, only after John dies does he, y'know, display it. Maybe he kisses Cas on his dad's grave just to fuck John over, make him roll in grave.

We all agree John would be/is a homophobe piece of shit, right?

Okay, glad we're on the same page.

Dads

3 men and a baby with Jack is what I'm saying.

I love it when the Trio are father-figures to younger troubled characters they see themselves in, even better if it's like reluctant-but-loving father figure, oh, that trope gets me every time :'^)

Dadstiel and DadDean are my favorites, but I like it when Sam plays "Uncle Sam" to kids too lol.

"Fellas, is it gay to want a tight knit family with your husband, his son, his vessel's daughter, your brother, his wife, your cop mother figure and her wife and their adopted daughters? Asking for a friend."

Garth

Biggest flaw of Supernatural was underutilizing Garth.

I will never not be bitter that Garth was only in like, 7 episodes out of the whole 15 season series.

Every episode with Garth gets immediately 5 times better.

I love Garth.

Follow ups on characters who had entire episodes featured around them and then just... vanished???

This is mostly about Jesse, the magic kid whose imagination ruled an entire town like, his daddy was a demon and nothing came of that kid??? Only one episode about him?? No follow up???

KID CAN MANIPULATE REALITY AND WE'RE NOT GONNA GET A FOLLOW UP ON THAT?????

Uh, there was that one episode with Ennis the guy whose girlfriend was killed by a monster? I think?? Who we never see again, that was weird.

Tamara from season 3, episode 1.

And of course-

Cassie

She was so cool, and then we never saw her again :////

She gets to be a badass.

Religious imagery

As a former Catholic school student who has become for the most part, disillusioned with religion, religious imagery in TV shows like Supernatural make my brain go "brrrrrr."

Fun episodes!!!

Like, after season 6 or so, there's a drop in funny episodes

I'm talking Changing Channels, The French Mistake type stuff. (Scoobynatural is an outlier and should not be counted.)

So anyway

In my version we would have more fun episodes

I'm thinking

GENDER-SWAP EPISODE, BABY!!

(why they didn't do that in the original, we'll never know.)

An episode where Dean gets to wear eyeliner

That's it, end of post.

I want less

Racism

Yeah I feel like this is self explanatory, nearly every reoccurring character in SPN is white, and black side characters normally die in the episode they first appear in, or they'll be featured as a villain (Uriel, Raphael, Billie, etc)

Also there's a lot of... uh... asian fetishism featured in the show (what with "Busty Asian Beauties) that's really gross, also Kevin was a bit of a stereotype...

Also also it's super yucky how they kill the gods from other religions like???? Uh??? That's super disrespectful, let's not do that????

I know Supernatural is like, inherently racist because monsters are a separate race that are seen as some dangerous "other" that must be eradicated by hunters in a form of genocide-

Okay we won't get into that but

Still

Stop killing all your POC

Fridgings/Unecessary murders of female characters

I know Supernatural starts with a fridging, so this will be a hard thing to remedy, but

One death that really pissed me off was the death of Charlie

Yeah, that was pointless and we're not doing that. Charlie gets to live and be an awesome aunt to Jack.

And also Claire

Charlie Bradbury Superiority

Charlie and Garth get to meet because they're nerd/geek solidarity.

British Men of Letters

I fucking hate these guys

They're "litcherally" the worst.

The worst part is that the actors they have playing the British AREN'T. EVEN. BRITISH.

And you can tell

Uh, and that's all for now, I'll add more later.

tag list for people who liked my "if this post gets one like I'll post my SPN reboot masterpost" post.

@darianyunidi @sarasidlesaid @crazybananaalpaca @playfulpanthress @ultfreakme @fififeelsmellow @heller-char @luna8eaton @princessmeganfire @insanebot109 @queenofnightsnow @mongoose-underthehouse

Thank you for the support, hope the wait was worth it.

[luna-nigthshade-wood]

Nobody cared enough

Sumary: There is a church on an abandoned property in the middle of nowhere. It used to be full of parishers, but it now lays empty. People avoid the area completely. They say strange noises can be heard at all times but especially at night. Furniture moves from a place to another. People that venture there don’t last the night. Everybody is on agreement that the land has been cursed, so no one checks on it. That is why nobody notices when it happens. Its November

Stanford Era-- Dean dies while Sam is in Stanford. It takes his family a lot of time to notice

Note: I wasnt on a good place mentally when I started writing this, so I think I proyected a little. Hope you enjoy

There is a church on an abandoned property in the middle of nowhere. It used to be full of parishers, but it now lays empty. People avoid the area completely. They say strange noises can be heard at all times but especially at night. Furniture moves from a place to another. People that venture there don’t last the night. Everybody is on agreement that the land has been cursed, so no one checks on it. That is why nobody notices when it happens. Its November

 John Winchester has been hunting for the thing that killed his wife for what seems like a lifetime, dragging both of his sons with him. He always tells himself he did the best he could. Sam is long gone to Stanford and all that he has left is Dean. Not exactly. He has started sending him to hunts alone. He needs to cover more ground. He needs his soldier to be ready for war. In reality, he cant barely look at his son, seeing a soldier of his own making feels like a stab to the heart. There will be time to rectify mistakes once they find Mary´s killer. There will be time to a “chick´s flick moment”. There will always be time (Time already ran out)

 Sam Winchester, smart and proud Stanford student. Sam, who finally got free from his family. Sam, who will make a name for himself. Sam, who is ashamed of his childhood, of his family, of his father, of Dean. He doesn’t understand why his father would scream at him for wanting to go to college. He doesn’t understand why Dean never fights for himself. He doesn’t understand why Dean doesn’t leave. He wishes he could talk to Dean sometimes, but he won´t. He knows Dean will try to make him come back and he has already outgrown his family. Maybe in a couple of years once he is a big shot lawyer he would call him, maybe he will do a hunt with him for old times sakes. He knows Dean will welcome him with open arms. There is no doubt Dean will be there (Except he will not)

Its April

Dean didn´t call to report after he finishes the hunt

He didn’t call after he sent him another set of coordinates

He didn´t respond to his messages asking where the hell was he afterwards

He didn’t contact him in a week

He didn’t contact him in a month

John hasn’t heard from his son in 6 months. He figures he might have gone to visit Sammy or he is using his charm somewhere. He promises himself he would look for him afterwards. Right now, Adam needs help with a school proyect.

 (In New Orleans there is a voodoo case getting out of control)

(In Arizona, there is a werewolf running rampage)

(There is a spirit in a lake, a wendigo in a forest, a woman in white in a small town, all of them taking victims without a hunter to stop them)

 Sam is ready to propose to Jess. He has the ring ready. After his successful interview, he is going to take her to a nice restaurant, get on one knee and propose. He grabs his phone to tell the plan to his friends and his hand slipped. He sees Dean´s contact and think about calling. Thinks about sharing the best moment of his life with his brother and he pauses. Dean´s last text was on October, his last call 2 weeks before that. There is a feeling of wrongness there, like the one he gets after waking up from a nightmare where Jess is on the ceiling, a voice telling him that there is something wrong. He swallows the feeling and calls Brady instead to put his plan in motion, all thoughts of Dean forgotten. It’s a great time to be Sam Winchester

 There is something wrong. Bobby can feel it in his bones. He is not superstitious, but years of being a hunter had taught him to trust his gut, and his gut tells him something is wrong.  He hasn’t heard from his boy yet. Nor Caleb nor Jim had heard from him. Nor any other hunter he knows. He keeps leaving voicemail after voicemail until the machine tells him the phone is full. He starts searching hoping to get an answer. He even calls John´s cell only to get an answer machine telling him that if he needs anything to call Dean. And for some reason that worries him the most.

Fire. That is the only thing that Sam´s mind seem to grasp. There is a fire around him, around Jess. Jess is dead and someone pulled him out of it. He hears someone screaming until he realizes he is the one who is screaming. Sweet, perfect Jess is dead. Someone, something put her on the ceiling, like mom. Probably, the same thing that killed mom, now left him without a fiancé. He tries calling Dean, with no success. He tries dad, with the same results. He tries Dean again, and that leaves him with a bitter taste on his lips. Dean doesn’t answer. For a minute he thinks something is wrong, before anger consumes him. How can his so called family be so callous as to ignore him when he needs them, how can Dean not answer his cell right now? He would find them and he would scream at them, and then they would find the thing that killed mom and Jess, so he could return to his perfect life away from hunting. (Careful, little grasshopper, you are starting to resemble your father)

 John gets the voicemail of Sammy first and sees the news later. His heart breaks a little after hearing his youngest (middle?) in pain. He almost responds to his son, but he hesitates. He needs time to figured out what happened to Sam after that night with the demon. He needs to know what did that creature did and how to revert it. He needs to find a weapon. Meanwhile, he saw that someone pulled his son from the fire and he marbles on Dean´s ability to get Sam out of danger. He will send Dean some coordinates so they can keep hunting and training for the war, so they remain occupy while he searches for answers. He will get his revenge, so he can return to his family (So sure of yourself that you have a family to return to).

 (There is a plane that crashes down for no apparent reasons, followed by other 2 accidents. A desperate friend keeps asking for help, but it falls on deaf ears)

(There is a property on Lawrence, that is plagued with evil, a family recently move don’t survive the chaos, and a psychic with a heart of gold, doesn’t understand what is happening)

 Bobby keeps calling all his contacts and finds himself empty of answers. Nobody knows nothing and in this profession that is the worst answer you can get. Rufus and Ellen offer their help. A young man, name Lee comes forward and start searching himself. Suddenly, half of the hunter community is up in arms trying to find their missing comrade. The beef they had with John never extended to his sons, especially to the one that was always ready to help someone in need. Dean was important, Dean was loved (Too bad he didn’t figure that while he was alive)

 (The Apocalypse was cancelled yet again, it wasn’t the first time in all history where this had happened. It just meant that preparations had to be made for a century or so ahead. There would be other vessels, and other players. Michael felt oddly relieved that the fight had been postponed, Lucifer down in his cage felt the same)

(Azazel knew the plans were cancelled, his kids got a free pass without knowing it, they would return back to normal. That didn’t mean he couldn’t still play with the Winchesters for a while, nobody cared after all)

 It all came to head on an abandoned church in the middle of nowhere where a poltergeist was seen last. Somehow, Bobby, John, Sam, Caleb and Jim had ended up there at the same time. John was shocked to see Sam alone, as was Sam. Bobby, Caleb and Jim seem to be mad at something.

-Where is Dean? And what are you doing here? -John asked confused

-I thought he was with you- Sam asked, equally confused

-You don’t know- Jim asked horrified

-Nobody has seen your son since November of last year and you dare stand there looking confused- Bobby asked

-Wait, what?- Sam asked, anger leaving his body

-They don’t know- Azazel said appearing near the church

-Where is Dean?- John asked the yellow eyes demon- What did you did to him?

-I didn’t do anything to your “precious” son, but if you want to know, you just have to go behind the church and see. And don’t worry Jonny boy I will leave you and your family alone, after all I don’t need you anymore- and with that he disappeared

Sam was the first to move, crossing the field to get to the other side, and promptly wished that he didn’t, because below a broken window, on the ground lay the body of his brother.

The worst part wasn’t even that. The worst part was that the impact and the fight with the Poltergeist didn’t killed him. No, Dean got a spinal fracture, that prevented him for moving. He dies bloody and lonely days after the fight, screaming and praying for someone to save him. Asking for his dad, for his brother, for anyone to hear him. His last words, not that anyone would know, where “At least, I am going to see mom”.

It was November, again

  There is a church on an abandoned property in the middle of nowhere. And a bunch of hunters that gather around the broken body of a young boy, that never had a chance

AO3

[thisissirius]

because @hearteyesforbuck​ told me i should post it

you have (1) voicemail eddie/buck, angst with no happy ending lalala a sequel to @hearteyesforbuck​‘s you have (1) missed call and yes, it’s exactly what you think it is

Okay, Chim says. 

Take care of Maddie, from Bobby.

I’ll stay at the hospital in case Eddie comes, Hen’s sent. 

 Frank writes. Writes more. Writes even more. Eddie’s life is reduced to a spiral notebook with peeling Hello Kitty stickers on the front. Eddie wonders if they’re a gift from Frank’s daughter. Maybe a niece? Sister?

-------------

If Eddie took his phone—

If Eddie let Buck stay— 

If, if, if. 

-------------

“If he let me drive him to work like I kept saying,” Eddie says, angry. 

Mimi and Kitty are staring at Eddie, smudged with dirt, part of Kitt’s face curling over. Frank shifts the book on his knee, Mimi disappears into the curve of  Frank’s jacket. “Would that help?”

“I don’t know, Frank, I think he’d be alive.”

-------------

Eddie doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he diverts from the station, heading straight for the hospital, but it’s not this;

Hen, eyes red-rimmed and defeated, saying, “I’m sorry.”

A bag of belongings in her hand that Maddie won’t, can’t, is afraid to take. 

As if Eddie’s able to function instead of feeling this cold, dark emptiness well up inside of his chest. 

“No,” Eddie says. 

-------------

No, he says to Frank, and goes with it for a very, very long time. 

-------------

Chris folds in on himself.

Eddie’s heard it before in the books Buck likes (liked) to pretend he doesn’t (didn’t) love. It’s a stupid description and he’s always laughed, burying his face in Buck’s shoulder, and telling Buck to fuck off and read some good literature— 

“He won’t talk to me,” Eddie says. 

“Eddie,” Frank says gently. 

“I can’t even help my own son through the grief I can’t let myself feel.”

“Because you’re angry.”

“Damn fucking right I’m angry,” Eddie snaps. 

-------------

“Who leaves a fucking message,” Eddie waves his phone in Frank’s face, “telling someone they love them as the last thing they do?”

------------- 

Someone who’s got nothing left to lose.

------------- 

Chris is curled up on the couch.

Eddie stares at his face, slack with sleep, tear tracks drying on his cheeks. Athena’s hands are running through his hair, saying something to Bobby that Eddie can’t hear. 

The kitchen is the safest place in Eddie’s house; it’s empty but for crumb-littered plates, discarded napkins, and half-empty bottles. Stumbling out of the back door, Eddie makes it to his dying bushes and throws up what little food he’s managed to eat.

A hand rests on his back and he jerks away, snarls at Chim to, “get the fuck away from me.”

“Eddie,” Maddie says, stricken.

“What?” Eddie stalks away from them, hands clenched into fists. There’s nowhere to go, it’s a fucking yard, but he stalks to the end anyway. He hates this, fucking hates it. 

“He wouldn’t want this for you—”  

“Well,” Eddie snaps, turning and looking Maddie in the eye, “he sure as shit didn’t leave that in a message for me.”

Maddie’s eyes widen, her face shifting into confusion and despair. 

“Edmundo Diaz,” Abuela says, crossing the yard with a thunderous look on her face. There’s a trickle of others from the house, everyone spilling into his yard, all dressed in black, looking solemn, ruining his grass and his solitude and his grief. 

“Stop it,” Eddie breathes. “Stop it, just stop.”

-------------

“I don’t want to go to his funeral.”

Frank raises an eyebrow. “Yet you’re hosting.”

“Who else was going to? Maddie and Chim don’t have the space, and Buck practically,” Eddie cuts himself off, stares at a point above Frank’s left shoulder. “Thought he lived in my house.”

How does that make you feel, someone else might say. 

It’s okay to not want that, he remembers his mom saying. 

“The fact that you want makes this worse?” 

Eddie’s never hated Frank more.

-------------

“Clear the yard,” Bobby says. 

“Time to go,” Hen says, voice carrying over the din. 

“Is Dad okay?” Christopher’s words drift over the yard. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie starts, shaking. 

Maddie touches his face, thumb stroking over his cheek. “Eddie—”

“He left me a message,” Eddie gasps. “Said he—he loves me and then—” 

“Fuck,” Chimney whispers. 

Leaning in, Maddie brushes a kiss over his hairline. Eddie doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t know what to do, how to feel, can’t be what Christopher needs because he, “can’t do this.”

“You can,” Maddie whispers. “We can. Together.”

Eddie looks her in the eye. “What’s wrong with me that I don’t get to keep the people I love?”

-------------

 The Hello Kitty stickers have almost completely peeled. Mimi’s missing a head, and Kitty’s handbag is restuck to the bottom of the notebook. 

“How’s Chris?” Frank asks. 

Eddie shrugs, swallows thickly. “Sad. Clingy. Missing Buck.”

Frank’s eyes are kind. “And you?”

“I loved him,” Eddie says. He picks at a loose thread on his hoodie. It’s Buck’s hoodie. “He’s not here anymore.”

The notebook slides to the table. “You never say died. Or dead. Dying.”

Eddie bites at the inside of his cheek, fighting the tears burning his eyes. Why does Frank always do this? Strip away the anger and the emptiness and just leave the feelings Eddie doesn’t want to face? 

“You’re not pretending he’s still alive,” Frank says. 

“Think Bobby might have me taken off duty indefinitely,” Eddie points out. “The only reason I’m still here is that he needs you to sign off on me returning.”

-------------

The plot is colourful. 

Probably not intentionally; so many flowers and plants and notes taped to sticks. 

Eddie feels sick. 

Crouching down in front of the headstone, Eddie looks everywhere but at the name. 

“Chris is gonna visit this weekend.” There’s a lump in Eddie’s throat that he can’t shift. He closes his eyes, breathes out slowly. Finally, he lifts his eyes. 

Evan Buckley. Beloved brother, friend, firefighter. 

Choking on a sob, Eddie runs his fingers over Buck’s name. “I hate you for leaving me.”

-------------

There’s no notebook. 

Eddie frowns as he takes a seat. “You’re not writing today.”

“I don’t think there’s a need,” Frank says. “How do you feel?”

Like my best friend’s dead. 

“Chris has stopped crying,” Eddie says instead. He licks at his bottom lip. “He did his last project on Buck. Keeps saying he’s gonna make Buck proud by doing everything he and Buck planned together—” 

“How do you feel,” Frank says again. 

Eddie shuts his mouth abruptly. Opens his mouth. Closes it. Says, “Buck’s dead.”

“Yes,” Frank agrees, “he is.”

“He left me behind,” Eddie continues. “I thought I had—that we’d—I’ll never get that and I’m angry and hurt but not, not at Buck.”

Frank nods, and Eddie doesn’t think he’s imagining the pride shining in his expression. “I’ve signed you back for work.”

“I almost didn’t want to,” Eddie admits, clenching his hands into fists. “I don’t know if it’s—being there without Buck hurts.”

“What would you do instead?”

Eddie’s startled. “You don’t think I should go back?”

Frank smiles gently. “It’s your life, Eddie. Your choices.”

“I think I choose,” Eddie says, pauses, “to take my time choosing.”

-------------

“I love you too,” Eddie whispers, resting a bouquet against the headstone.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Bah Hiddleston | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon) | Chapter 10 | Blue Christmas

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon)

Summary:  Tamra Harmon has no mind to mess with Christmas. All that talk about Christmas magic and the joy of the holidays is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. But will a chance encounter with perennial Christmas lover Tom Hiddleston change all that?

This chapter: Tom and Tamra both realized they have screwed this up, but Mother Nature provides a new stumbling block.

Warnings for story: smut, oral sex, implied smut, vaginal sex, light angst

-

Tamra cried the whole way back to her rented flat. The Uber driver asking her more than once if she was okay through the rearview mirror.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” she lied.

It was still dark which she reached the Airbnb. She fumbled with the keys and juggled her suitcase through the door. The room seemed cold and sterile after having spent the last several days at Tom’s. She sobbed as she thought of Bobby curled up at her feet and how the place always smelled of books and coffee.

Tamra pulled back the covers and slid between the cool sheets. She didn’t even bother to change into pajamas. As she drifted into an uneasy slumber, Tamra’s mind played over the note she left. She feared she made some sort of mistake. Her heart already realized the answer.

-

Once Diana called, Luke made it over to the house within the hour; Benedict and Sophie soon followed, children in tow. Waves of guilt rolled over Tom at the thought of ruining everyone’s Christmas with his problems. Especially since this was all his fault.

Diana kept the kettle warm and everyone took a seat around the kitchen table while the children playing with their newly acquired toys in the living room. Bobby, sensing something was amiss, stayed close to Tom’s feet.

“I fucked up.” Tom commented with a flat affect.

“How is that different from—” Luke started in but Diana’s hand gripping his shoulder like a vise silenced him.

“Luke dear, I normally would love nothing more than to watch a signature Windsor dressing down of my twat of a son, but perhaps today we can keep the conversation to helpful suggestions.” Diana commented, her hand never leaving his shoulder.

Luke glanced over at Tom still seated in the chair he fell into earlier. Sat before him was a haunting shadow of the famous Tom Hiddleston. His eyes still sparkling blue but now bloodshot and rimmed with red. His ginger curls laid in a disheveled mop. If his fans could catch him now, they would be appalled.

“Of course, Diana.” he responded and only then did she release her grip.

They each read the note while Tom took to chewing on his thumbnail. A nasty habit he long broke but manifested itself in times of extreme stress.

“I don’t understand what the problem is?” Ben questioned. “She loves you and you love her.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know I love her? How can you possibly know that?!” His voice rising and accusatory.

“For one, you made me throw a Christmas party in less than 24 hours for a girl you barely met.” Benedict responded, ignoring his friend’s tone.

“You did what Thomas?!” Diana exclaimed.

“Not the time, Mother.” Tom interjected.

“Two, I am sitting at your dining table on Christmas rather than being at my home. And three, Luke told me.”

Tom shot daggers at his publicist.

“Not the time, Tom..” Diana echoed his words. “So how do we fix it?”

“Ritual suicide?” offered Luke.

“Grand gesture of love?” countered Benedict.

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Men. Always going to extremes. Suicide, grand gestures.” she tsked. “How about a radical idea of telling her how you feel?”

“I agree, Sophie. The simplest solution is generally the best one.” Diana agree, moving to hold Tom’s hand, giving it a small squeeze

Tom picked his head up to look at his friends and mother. He pushed the chair away from the table and rose.

“Thank you all for the food for thought. I don’t want to keep you from your homes and families. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He kept the facade together until he stepped away and only then did he cried for the infinite time that morning. He slammed the door to the bedroom on his way. The sound reverberating off the walls.

Everyone stood as well and Diana walked each of them out.

“Thank you for coming. Merry Christmas. I’ll keep you posted.” She made apologies and excuses before shutting the door.

She headed down the hallway and knocked softly against the door. When she heard no response, she pushed the door opened. She found Tom sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to the door and his head in his hands.

She sat down next to him, placing her hand on his knee. He turned and cried.

“Mum, I’m scared.”

“I noticed, dear.”

“Why am I so scared? I’m been in relationships before. Why is this different?”

Diana gave his knee a squeeze. “Because…” she sighed. “…you recognize that this is the beginning of the last relationship you’ll have and you are not sure you’re ready to take that leap, no matter how much you want that life. Forever is a long time.”

“You really believe it will all work out, don’t you?”

“Yes I do.” Diana stood and walked to his nightstand. “You never throw a bet. Particularly a bet that requires you to cook. That means this is something much more than a fling.”

Tom managed a laugh. “How did you figure it out?”

“You are my son.” She handed him his phone. “Now go get the girl and start the rest of your life.”

Tom nodded. He unlocked the phone and tapped the screen. Diana slipped out the room and shut the door behind her.

-

Tamra dragged herself out of bed just before noon. She found some cereal and milk. Tamra gave the milk and sniff and decided she wouldn’t die before pouring. She found her phone and the battery indicator teetered close to 1%.

“Shit!” she fished through her purse for the charger cord and came up empty. She dug through her suitcase, dumping the contents onto the floor.

“Fuck!” she yelled as her hunt came up empty. Her brain flashed to the cord plugged into a socket in Tom’s kitchen. “FUCK!!!”

As she prepared to go into another cursed filled tirade, her phone buzzed in her hand.

“What?!” she snapped to the other person on the end of the call.

“Did I catch you at a bad time, honey?” her mom asked, worry in her voice.

Tamra took a deep breath to collect herself. “Not at all. What can I do for you?”

“Merry Christmas, honey!”

“Merry Christmas, Mom.”

“No bah humbug? Are you feeling okay? You sound sick. Are you sick?”

Tamra choked back tears. “No, I’m not sick.” her voice cracked. “But I’m not okay.” She sobbed.

“What happened? Do I need to fly out?”

“I meet a guy. Not just any guy, THE GUY. And he is amazing and smart and talented. And… and…” her voice trailed off again. “Why do I screw up everything?!?” she wailed.

“Love is complicated, darling. It causes something with the dopamine levels in the brain. Makes people act all loopy.”

“You read that in a magazine somewhere, didn’t you?”

“I’m sure. But if this guy is as special as you describe. He is worth the fight.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Any time dear. Now tell me more about this guy.”

“Well you might know him.” Tamra started.

“Really? How would I—” the line clicked dead.

“Mom? Mom?” Tamra looked down at a black screen.

“Fuck!” she threw the phone onto the bed. She thought about heading out to see if any place was open to buy a charging cord. She was dismayed to stare out the window to find it snowing heavily once again.

“Merry fucking Christmas.” she whispered as she crawled back under the covers.

-

Tom threw his bedroom door open, startling his mother watching the television.

“It keeps going to voicemail. I’m going over there.” He grabbed his pea coat.

“No you’re not.”

“And who is going to stop me?” he demanded.

“Mother Nature. Look out the window.” Tom pulled aside the curtain to the nearest window.

“No, No!” he cried in anguish as he saw the landscape buried in snow and it continuing to fall with no end in sight. “I hate snow.”

“Keep trying the phone. She can’t ignore you forever. It’s Christmas.”

-

But she never answered and with each unanswered call, Tom grew more and more frantic, almost unhinged. If it had not been for Diana, he would have braved the storm and most likely froze in the process.

Phone calls from friends and family offered him little comfort. Only the news of both Emma and Sarah joining the family tomorrow elicited any happy response. He attempted to put on a good show but inside he was dying. His mother comforted when he allowed her.

“Have faith, dear.”

“I’m calling the police.” he declared after the phone once again went to voicemail.

“You will not. What would Luke say?”

Tom sighed. “He would say ‘don’t be stupid’.”

“Luke is a wise man. So sit down and watch the movie. It’s my favorite.”

He picked up Hugh Grant’s monologue come over the TV and he excused himself.

-

Tamra found a frozen dinner buried in the freezer. Not the Christmas dinner she had hoped for. But with the snowstorm and the holiday, nothing was open. She longed to call Tom, to apologize and beg forgiveness but there was nothing she could do with her phone dead. She didn’t remember his number.

She alternated between the bed and the sofa, catching snippets of restless sleep between crying jags. The day reached a low point when she flicked on the TV and heard the Pointer Sisters Jump! playing and saw Hugh Grant dancing over the screen. She flashed back to that day at Tom’s, the movies, the tree, that kiss. She switched off the TV and threw the remote in disgust.

Tom and Tamra tossed and turned that night, chasing sleep. Tom finally dozed off sometime around midnight, Bobby never leaving his side. Tamra lied awake until well after one in the morning, clutching the pillow for comfort and wondering how she screwed up the best thing that happened to her.

[datleggy]

Prompt: Eddie and Buck hook up one night and Buck  is thrilled and happy. But then he wakes up the next morning and Eddie is gone. For the next few days He’s not answering Buck’s calls or texts and Buck convinced himself that Eddie regrets what happened. Eddie wants to talk to Buck but he is so overwhelmed by his feelings that he doesn’t want to talk until his head is clear. But when he does see Buck again, he’s shocked that buck thinks he regrets their hookup and has to console an upset buck

note: i accidentally deleted this prompt while trying to edit so that’s why it’s not in it’s usual ASK format, my b.

Christopher’s at a sleepover at his friend Paul’s house for the night so Buck invites Eddie over for pizza, some beers, and of course, for a rematch. “Look, I went easy on you last time because Christopher was here and I didn’t want you to get slammed in front of your own kid like that.” he teases.

Eddie grins. “Oh is that so?” he tips his beer back, downing a swig.

Maybe it’s the beer–though between the two of them they’ve barely gone through a six pack–but one minute they’re ribbing each other in the kitchen, and the next Buck’s sitting on the counter and Eddie’s in between his legs, with an arm at either side of him and they’re making out like horny teenagers.

They don’t stop to talk or even take a breath, hurriedly ripping each other’s clothes off as they clumsily make their way upstairs to Buck’s bedroom. Eddie practically tosses Buck onto the mattress and then he’s on top of him, marking a trail down his neck and fuck, Buck can’t remember the last time he felt this desperate. He groans, thrusting his hips into Eddie’s, wanting more. He’s so dizzy with lust he almost can’t believe this is actually happening…

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buck wakes up the next morning to discover that the side of his bed is cold and empty. He shimmies on a pair of boxer shorts and makes his way downstairs. “Eddie?” he calls out, but silence is his only answer. Eddie’s clothes, which had lain strewn across the kitchen and his bedroom floor are gone, and so is the man himself.

“Shit.” This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t made a move before last night. Buck shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts. There are other reasons Eddie could have for leaving without saying anything; other reasons besides regret, that is.

Buck calls him but gets sent straight to voicemail after a couple of rings. Sighing, he chooses to text him instead. He’s not sure what to say, except a simple: Hey?

He’s not working today, and neither is Eddie, if he remembers the schedule right--it’s Saturday and their next shift together isn’t until Monday.

Buck really hopes Eddie responds or even calls him back before then, because he doesn’t think he can stand to wait until then to talk.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buck texts him again on Sunday: Everything ok?

And still nothing on Eddie’s end. It’s frustrating and the idea that he might’ve just ruined his relationship with his best friend is driving him up a goddamn wall.

Maddie invites him out to lunch but he declines, lying that he’s busy today. He knows that if he were to see her he wouldn’t be able to help himself and he’d end up spill all of his insecurities and anxieties over what happened. And the way it’s looking, it’s likely that Eddie regrets having slept with him and would prefer to keep it a secret.

That thought stings and Buck spends most of his lazy Sunday curled up in bed listening to very cheesy sad love songs.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning rolls around and Buck thinks about calling out sick. Partly because he doesn’t know how to face Eddie after what happened over the weekend---he couldn’t stand it if his fears were to be confirmed. And in part because he spent the night before tossing and turning and never did actually get any sleep beyond a couple of very restless hours.

He wakes up with a headache pounding behind his right eye and by the time he parks his car in the lot at work he’s starting to reconsider his decision not to call out of work. He’s absolutely miserable.

“G’morning Buck, how was your weeke---woah, hey, you alright?” Bobby stops him on his way into the station, concern knitting his brows together.

Buck sighs. “I’m ok, just tired. My upstairs neighbors were partying all night so I didn’t really get a lot of sleep.” he lies. He can’t tell his Captain the truth. Though sometimes Buck has a sneaking suspicion that Bobby has already caught onto the stupidly longing looks Buck can’t stop giving Eddie...

Bobby pats him on the shoulder and squeezes lightly. “C’mon, it’s still early, take a nap in the bunks.”

Of course that’s the exact moment in which the alarm decides to sound.

Bobby gives him a sympathetic look but Buck shakes it off. He’s got a job to do.

He and Eddie end up riding on different rigs to the emergency call and even when they’re on the scene Eddie, who’s usually standing by his side, stays as far away as possible, lingering on the sidelines, waiting for orders.

The Captain sends Chim and Hen to search the first five floors of a building for anyone who hasn’t left the offices during the fire drill, and sends Buck and Eddie to check floors six through ten.

Eddie and Buck take the stairs up in silence, the only sound being their heavy footsteps as they climb in full gear.

They start at the top and make their way down, clearing the floors as they go. It’s only when they reach the sixth floor that either man speaks to the other.

“Hey, listen, about Friday...” Eddie starts, pausing to get his thoughts together.

Buck gulps, stopping dead in his tracks. He turns around, nervousness making his stomach queasy.

“I know I left kind of suddenly, the next morning.” Eddie sighs, looking away.

Buck’s palms are clammy and his headache is not letting up and he really shouldn’t have skipped breakfast this morning. He’s starting to feel faint, especially after climbing ten flights, wearing roughly an extra forty to fifty pounds of firefighting gear to top it off. He’s glad this isn’t a real emergency, and just a drill.

“Buck?” Eddie notices the way his best friend is swaying on his feet and closes the distance between them quickly, grabbing his shoulders to help keep him fully upright. “What’s wrong? Is it the blood thinners?” He read in a medical journal, after Buck was started on the Warfarin by his doctor, that a possible side effect might include the occasional dizzy spell.

Buck shakes his head blearily, his hands coming up to grasp Eddie’s, to steady himself. “Sorry, I think I need to sit down.” he breathes out.

Eddie helps him take off all of the gear and then he wheels an office desk chair under Buck’s butt. “I’m gonna’ call Cap.”

“No!” Buck half shouts. He stands up too fast and nearly makes himself sick. Not that he has anything in his stomach to throw up.

“Woah, it’s ok, sit, sit, I won’t call Bobby, just sit for me, yeah?” Eddie gently pushes him back into the seat. “You’re pale, did you take your meds this morning?”

Buck nods. “It’s not that.” he looks away, “I just, I had trouble sleeping last night...and the night before that, and I was too nervous to eat this morning so I skipped breakfast and that combined with no sleep for the past two days plus,” he gestures vaguely towards the stairwell. “It’s nothing, I just need to eat something and I’ll be fine. If Bobby hears about this he’ll freak.”

Eddie searches in one of his various pockets and comes up with a granola bar---blueberry, Buck’s favorite--- “Here, eat this. I’m gonna get you a cup of water.” He fills a plastic cup with water from the office cooler and hands it to Buck after he’s eaten at least half the bar.

“Thanks.” Buck actually feels a lot better. He could still use a good eight hours of sleep, if he’s being honest with himself.

Eddie chews on his lip. “Buck, I’m sorry.”

Buck looks up. “What?”

“It’s because of me, right? That you couldn’t sleep, and that you couldn’t eat this morning? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left without saying anything like that. I just needed some time to gather my thoughts, but I realize now that wasn’t fair to you.” Eddie grimaces.

Buck shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, Eddie, you had every right to leave, I totally get if what happened that day between us, if you regret that, and if you never wanna’ speak of it again, I respect that, I won’t say anything, we can pretend it never happened.” Buck finally looks up, fear and anxiety brewing in those baby blues. “But I can’t not be friends, Eddie; if I fucked everything up by acting on these feelings I’m so sorry and I promise I’ll keep them under wraps. You’re my best friend, I---” he stops himself, clenching at the armrests in despair. “Can we please please pretend Friday night never happened. I’ll never bring it up again and we can go back to normal, I swear.” it breaks his entire heart to say the words, but if it’s between nothing and hiding his true feelings, he’ll take the latter.

Eddie takes a big deep breath and kneels down in front of Buck, so that he’s staring up at him, his big brown eyes shining. “Is that really how you feel? About us? About what happened on Friday? Be honest with me, I promise I won’t be mad.”

Buck tries to say ‘Yes, that’s how I feel. It’s gonna’ be weird, please let’s stay friends’ but he can’t lie. Not when he’s looking into those eyes. Not when Eddie’s hand is on his knee, not when the man carries around an assortment of his favorite granola bars in his work clothes....

“Fuck, Eddie,” his voice cracks. “I’m so in love with you it’s stupid. I’m sorry.” his breath hitches, and maybe it’s the days of waiting by his phone anxiously, the lack of sleep, who knows, but actual tears spring up in his eyes and Buck is embarrassed to find himself shedding tears. As if this wasn’t humiliating enough.

He’s waiting for Eddie’s rejection. Bracing himself for the “I’m sorry I don’t feel the same”.

“I’m sorry.” he starts.

And there it is. Fuck. Why does he always have to wear his stupid heart on his stupid sleeve? Fuck.

“I left because I was overwhelmed by my own feelings and I needed time and space to sort through everything. I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better. I just kinda’ ghosted you like an asshole.” Eddie reaches up and takes Buck’s face into his hands. “I have been in love with you for longer than I’d cared to admit. Friday night was amazing and I’m just sorry it took me so long to finally act on my feelings. Buck, I love you so much it drives me crazy just thinking about it. When I woke up Saturday morning and you were there, sleeping beside me? God, I was so happy I didn’t know what to do with myself. I haven’t been that happy in so long I honestly didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. That scared the crap out of me so I ran. I’m sorry.”

Buck doesn’t hesitate, throwing himself from the chair and into Eddie’s arms, colliding into him with an oomph!

Eddie holds Buck tight, arms wrapping around his waist to pull him in closer. “I love you.” he says again, pulling back only slightly, and only so they can lock lips. This kiss is different than their first, which was hot and unthinking and desperate. This kiss is soft and tender and so so warm and Buck groans into it, melts into Eddie’s embrace.

“Not to ruin the mood, boys, but uh, your comms are still on, so whenever you two are done um, clearing that last floor, please report back to the rig.” Captain Nash’s extremely amused voice rings out on their comms, startling the men into bumping foreheads. They can hear Hen and Chim giggling like school kids in the background.

Eddie clears his throat. “Copy that Cap.”

Immediately they turn off their comms and both break out into uproarious laughter.

“Well shit.” It was no wonder they’d been left undisturbed up until now, when they’d clearly taken much too long to check the measly five floors they’d been assigned...

[shirtlesssammy]

4x22: Lucifer Rising

Then:

We met this fearsome warrior this season. I don’t think anything else really happened. 

Now:

St. Mary’s Convent

Ilchester, Maryland

1972

A priest is possessed by a demon. Later, at a service with the nuns, his prayers are a little uncouth.

He locks everyone in the chapel. He starts to ramble a little more about fathers and then his eyes flash yellow. He pulls out a big knife and well, I guess service ends little differently than normal too. 

Meanwhile, Sam stares pensively into the distance. Is he making the right choice? Did he condition his hair too much this morning? Ruby snaps him out of his morose contemplations. Sam’s sad about how he and Dean left things. He knows that there isn’t an “after” for him once they do what they’re planning. 

Dean, meanwhile, stares morosely out Bobby’s window. 

For Elfen Ears and Freckles Science:

Bobby snaps him out of his thoughts. Bobby wants Dean to reach out to Sam again. He shouldn’t give up on his brother. Dean goes into full soap opera mode and makes it clear that “Sam is gone.” He’s not even sure Sam is even his brother anymore --if he ever was. I’m just lol-ing over his overdramatic ass, but Bobby loses his shit and gives Dean the football coach speech. Then he compares Dean to John. And he calls John a coward. SHOTS FIRED! Bobby then makes it clear that Dean is a better person than John (to which Dean scoffs at...grr, Dean!). 

Dean turns away and the next thing he realizes is that he’s in the Green Room. Cas is there. He tells Dean, “It’s almost time.”

At a hospital, a nurse takes a baby from its parents presumably so they can get some rest. In reality, it’s a demon set on nefarious ways. She’s stopped by Sam though. 

Dean wanders his prison and finds beer and burgers...and Zachariah. 

He wants Dean to relax before go time. All the seals are broken, but one. Zach tells Dean that it’ll happen the following night at midnight, and Lilith has to be the one to break it. 

Sam is torturing the demon for Lilith’s location. She doesn’t really see a reason to give it up --she’s dead no matter what. 

Dean calls and leaves a message for Sam. His apology gets cut short. And Sam doesn’t get it anyway because he’s really going to town on torturing the demon. The demon admits that Lilith will be at a convent (the very same one from the cold open) tomorrow night. Ruby wants to drain her of her blood. The demon reminds them that she’s possessing a human, and lets the human come out to play. 

We then flashback to the convent in the aftermath of the possessed priest’s bloodbath. He prays to Lucifer, who responds through the voice of a dead nun. Lucifer tells him that Lilith can break the seals. Then Lucifer instructs old Yellow Eyes to find him a special child. 

Cut to Sam Winchester doing research on the convent. He’s all nerding out over what I can imagine is the serial killer aspect of the murders. 

Ruby’s ready to roll and wants to pack up the nurse and get going. Sam’s showing a little reluctance for murdering the possessed woman. Despite her pleas, Sam still throws her in the trunk of his car. Yowza. 

Like a bored house cat, Dean starts knocking things over in the Green Room. Cas shows up. “I need something,” Dean says. “Anything you wish,” Cas responds. Boy, doesn’t that sum up their relationship for the past 12 years? Dean wants to see Sam. Cas doesn’t think it’s a good idea. 

Dean wants to leave. It becomes clear that the angels are not going to let him leave. And Cas is gone without a word. 

Over the constant, horrible symphony of nurse Cindy’s screams from the trunk, Sam and Ruby chat as they drive. Sam’s horrified by Cindy’s terror and Ruby reminds him that every demon he drains dry is like this: a scared human trapped in their own body. (She accuses him of trying to grow a “persqueeter” -- for which I tell her to go fuck herself.) Sam’s having doubts that he’s on the right path. 

Dean tries to break his way out of the beautiful room. I bet you could use a GRENADE LAUNCHER right about now, eh? Nothing he does seems to make an impact. Zachariah flaps down to rub it in. Dean demands to see Sam, and asks how to kill Lilith. It’s now that Zachariah drops some truth bombs. Heaven’s plan all along has been for the final seal to break. “The end is nigh. The apocalypse is coming, kiddo. To a theater near you.”

Not every angel knew the grand plan, Zachariah admits, but Heaven’s top brass allowed all the seals to break. While Zachariah talks about Heaven’s glorious victory in the coming battle, Dean takes another look around the room. This time, he realizes that the beautiful paintings are full of depictions of angels versus demons, and bloody war. People are just acceptable losses. Dean insists that Sam will save the day.

Zacharian tries to “comfort” Dean, telling him that he his role in the apocalypse is actually to stop Lucifer after he rises. No pressure! And where’s God? “God has left the building,” Zachariah says smugly before he peaces out again. 

At a spooky convent, a security guard patrols when he’s confronted by Lilith! It’s show time, baby. 

Still trapped in the room, Dean’s trying to call Sam when Cas arrives. “You’re outside your coverage zone,” Castiel, cell service technician of the lord, says. He tells Dean that all the trouble Sam’ll get into will be entirely his own doing. But Cas has flapped down for Dean. “We have been through much together, you and I. I just wanted to say I’m sorry it ended like this.” (I have no regrets for the gleeful series of pictures of Dean and Cas that are about to follow.)

Dean’s not receptive to an apology, and takes a swing at Cas.

“This is long foretold,” Cas insists. 

Dean refuses to condone this argument. “Destiny? God’s plan? It’s all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch!” The apocalypse narrative is Heaven’s way of keeping the grunts in line.

“You know what’s real?” Dean asks. “People. Families. That’s real.” (Excuse me while I make the EYEBALLS EMOJI at season 15 because dang, ya’ll.)(Boris, curled in a ball in the corner: “We are.”)

Cas demands to know why the world ought to be saved when there’s suffering in it. When paradise descends it will bring peace. This is such an angel line it KILLS ME. (Especially with all we now know about Heaven.) “You can take your peace and shove it up your lily white ass,” Dean says quietly. 

Dean would rather have pain, guilt, and dark!Sam than be some “Stepford bitch in paradise.” A super valid, excellent point, even if I am going to take a moment to picture Dean Stepfordized. Dean insists that there is a right and wrong side, and Cas is currently on the wrong end of it. 

Dean begs for Cas’s help to get to Sam and stop him from opening the last seal. Cas knows if he rebels, they’ll all be killed. “If there’s anything worth dying for,” Dean insists, “this is it.” Cas looks conflicted but nevertheless doesn’t immediately swing over to the rebellion, and Dean disgustedly tells him that they’re “done.” Cas flaps out.

Outside the convent, Sam contemplates what he’s about to do. Ruby prods him to act, playing with her demon-smiting knife impatiently. Sam finally checks the voicemail that Dean left near the beginning of the episode. Only, it’s not quite how we remember it. In the voicemail, Dean now accuses Sam of being a “blood sucking freak” and a monster, and promises to kill Sam. Um. Behind Sam, Ruby smirks.

It’s go-time now. Sam decides he’s his own only hope and tells Ruby to pull the screaming nurse from the trunk. 

In the beautiful room, Dean finally gives in to temptation and picks up a burger when Cas arrives, spins him around, and pins him to the wall. 

For Mark Me Down as Scared and Horny Science:

Cas pulls out a knife, cuts his forearm, and inscribes a sigil on the wall with his own blood. When Zachariah shows up, pissed off, Cas blasts Zachariah away. 

Cas tells Dean that they’re heading off to stop Sam from killing Lilith who (surprise!) is the final seal. When she dies, Lucifer pops out like a dancer in a birthday cake. 

Cut to Chuck, who’s pacing around his house ordering women on the phone. EXTREME SIDE EYE. Dean and Cas flap in, looking for answers. 

At the convent, Lilith holds court when Sam arrives. The lesser demons fall insta-dead while Lilith closes the doors to her chamber. Dun dun DUN!

Chuck hands over information on Sam’s showdown with Lilith to Cas. “You’re not in this story,” Chuck says accusingly to Cas. 

“We’re making it up as we go,” Cas says. 

Chuck’s house starts to rattle. An archangel is descending to nip this little angelic rebellion right in the bud. Castiel vows to “hold them all off.” He zaps Dean to the convent and awaits the approach of the archangel.

Sam makes his way into Lilith’s chamber and pins her to the altar with his mind mojo when Dean arrives on the scene. Ruby smirks at Dean before slamming the doors shut between the two brothers. Sam burns Lilith out with his fancy demon-blood powers while Dean shouts through the door and Ruby screams at him to finish the job. Lilith laughs at Sam, mocking him for his hesitation, and that’s what does it. Sam kills her with demon-black eyes. 

Lilith’s blood seeps across the floor like it’s on a mission. Actually, it IS on a mission. It oozes into a circle. Ruby’s ecstatic and tells Sam that he opened the door for Lucifer. She may have been hated by demons for her apparent betrayal but “I was the best of those sons of bitches,” Ruby insists. “The most loyal.” Sam tries to pin what just happened on Ruby but she throws it right back at him. His choices brought him to this point. She just gave him the options. Horrified, Sam asks why he was the one to unleash Lucifer. “Because it had to be you, Sam.” OUCH. 

Dean breaks through the doors at last and storms over. Sam grabs Ruby so Dean can stab her. Hooray! They’re working together again! And then the cage starts to open. WHERPS. Sam apologizes futilely as the room fills with impossibly bright light. Lucifer’s on his way out. 

The End Quotes are Nigh:

Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!

We'll throw in Mary Ann for free

Would we really let 65 seals get broken unless senior management wanted it that way?

This isn't the first planetary enema we've delivered

You spineless soulless son of a bitch. What do you care about dying? You're already dead

You turned yourself into a freak. A monster. And now you're not gonna bite? I'm sorry, but that is honestly adorable

You didn't need the feather to fly, you had it in you the whole time, Dumbo

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[desiredposion]

1.22 Devils Trap

I’m not much of a writer but I started this story on my wattpad almost a year ago a decided to upload the first chapter to see how it did on here and see if i could fall in love with writing again.

..................

Idjits - 1.22 Devils Trap

Walking down the street towards Singer Salvage Yard a young teenage girl was lost in the music pouring through her headphones. Air drumming and humming along to the lyrics all the way up the salvage yard to Rumsfeld, the dog, who managed to get on the hood of one of Uncle Bobby's trucks.

"How you doing buddy?" She asked giving him a scratch behind the ear before noticing the classic black '67 Impala parked outside the house. Alarm bells rang in her head and she held her breath listening for any possible yelling coming from the house, hearing nothing a sigh of relief passed her lips. Silently walking towards the house catching glimpses of conversation before ultimately sucking up any fear and opening the front door.

"Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come."

"Nonsense. Your Daddy needs help." Once in the messy front room she could clearly see her carer as well as her older brother with a flask in each of their hands.

"Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, I mean, you threatened to blast him full of buckshot . Cocked the shotgun and everything" Bobby smirked at this and Riley couldn't help but to smile at the memory, the day Uncle Bobby became more then just an uncle.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people."

Dean nodded and smirk also appeared on his face, "Yeah, I guess he does."

"Damn right he does. Hiya Dean, long time no see." Standing awkwardly in front of Deans gaze before heading over to Bobby and giving him a hug. "Hi Bobby, good day?"

"Great day sweetheart" he said reciprocating the hug and giving the girl a kiss on her head before turning his attention back to Dean who had yet to say anything, "none of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back."

"What trouble did he get himself into now?" Riley mumbled under my breath with an eye roll as she went to the kitchen to get  an after school snack, feeling the lingering eyes of Dean on her back. 'I guess I have changed quite a bit since the last time we saw each other, suppose he's just getting over the shock of it all.' She thought to herself.

"Bobby, this book... I've never seen anything like it" blocking out part of their conversation focusing on homework. She already had an idea on what they were talking about, Bobby was big on teaching her how to protect herself and others without the constant need of hunting and finding a fight that wasn't theirs to begin with. She liked it better then the hunting life she was destined for, being buried in a book and keeping the phones was more her style and she was proud of that, John, not so much.

Before long Riley was brought out of her thoughts at the sound of Rumsfeld barking up a storm before letting out a loud, heartbreaking whine. She quickly walked back into the main room looking at Bobby by the window, "Somethings wrong."

Before she could even take a step towards the door it was kicked in and in stepped some young blonde chick, she quickly recognized her as a demon from the way she threw Dean across the room when he went at her with the Holy Water. Riley was the next to be thrown across the room landing next to Dean. "Isn't it nice to be back in action sis?" Dean asked helping the girl sit up.

"I wouldn't exactly call it nice." she answered quietly with an eye roll and a small groan of pain.

"I want the Colt, Sam - the real Colt - right now." The demon chick demanded to the  last Winchester standing.

"We don't have it on us. We buried it."

"Didn't I say 'no more crap'? I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the gun with you two chuckle heads. Secondly no one seemed able to find your sister and yet here it is hidden in plain sight. Lackluster, kiddos. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually, we were counting on it." Dean smirked glancing up at the Devils Trap painted on the ceiling of the old house. A breathy laugh left Dean's lips as he pushed himself up from the ground, hauling his sister up also, "gotcha."

After making that the demon, Meg, was secured and trapped in the Devils Trap Bobby had painted Riley and Bobby made the rounds salting every door and window of the house, before long the girl was standing by the front door looking out to where her favorite dog was last seen.

"I salted the doors and windows. If there are any demons out there - they ain't getting in. I'm going to go check on Riley." Bobby's rough voice floated through the house, she could practically feel his fatherly presence behind her before he even spoke, "he's gone isn't he?"

"'fraid so kid, 'fraid so." She felt the tears well up in her eyes but refused to let them fall, "I know you loved him and if you want to cry then no one will judge you." His hand rub soothing circles on Riley's back and arms, she crossed her arms and shook her head.

"No. It's alright, these things happen in our line of work, don't they? You might want to go sort those boys out before they do something they regret. I'll be in my room finishing my homework."

The older man sighed, knowing that the girl who has become like a daughter to him was upset and that put him into an even worse mood. Letting her grieve and get some school work done, Bobby walked to the brothers helping them get answers from the demon chick.

Before long Riley came down stairs just as Bobby walked through the door leading into the hallways, this time with Sam and Dean in tow. "You okay?" Sam asked.

"Shes lying. He's not dead." Dean said though it seems like he was trying to convince not only everyone else but himself the most.

"Dean, you've got to be careful with her. Don't hurt her" Bobby said.

"Why?"

"Because she really is a girl. That's why."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked

"She's possessed. That's a human possessed by a demon, can't you tell?" Riley explained finally contributing to the conversation.

"Are you trying to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?" Dean asked earning nods from both Bobby and his sister. He then turns to look through the door at Meg before turning back to us. "That's actually good news."

Whilst the three men got ready to perform an exorcism, Riley went into the kitchen getting any supplies ready that they may need for the poor girl who was taking as a meat suit. Yelling from both Dean and Meg could be heard throughout the entire house so Riley tried to drown it out with music. When the screaming had finally stopped she breathed a sigh of relief allowing for the music to take over system once again. Through that only lasted a moment when Bobby rushing in with a blanket looking for a glass of water and the supplies Riley had gotten out. She got up and trailed along behind him seeing the girl that had been possessed lying on the ground looking awfully broken. Taking the glass from Bobby she went to the girl's head, holding it up and allowing for her to take slow sips.

"If Dad's still alive, none of that matters." Dean said, helping Sam to cover her up.

"Where is the demon we're looking for?" Sam asked Meg.

"Not there. Other ones. Awful ones." Meg spoke with a massive strain to her voice, a clear indication of the battles she went through.

"Where are they keeping our Dad?" Dean asked.

"By the river. Sunrise." Meg spoke with one last shaky breath. Riley held the girl's head in her hands looking for any sign of life but there was none.

"'Sunrise.' What does that mean? What does that mean?" Dean asked but stopped when Riley shook her head. Meg was gone, finally experiencing some peace after the last few months or years of absolute hell.

The house became silent for a short period. "You better hurry up and beat it. Before the paramedics get here."

"What are you going to tell them?" Dean asked.

"What you think you guys invented lying to the cops? I'll figure something out." Bobby picks up the Key of Solomon handing it to Sam. "Here take this. You might need it."

"Thanks Bobby" he said taking the book from the older man.

"Hey Ry, what do you say about tagging along? We could sure use some help down there and having our little sister back would be pretty cool. Just like old times." Dean said to his sister with a hopeful expression on his face. She would admit that she missed her brothers but the hunting life just wasn't cut out for her and it would not be a pretty sight when John and her meet again.

"Thanks but I - uh. I think I'm going to stay behind help Bobby clean up the place, plus I've got a ton of school work due tomorrow that I can't skip out on. Maybe next time?" She ask feasibly.

"Yeah, uh sure. Thanks... for everything. Be careful, alright?" He said to the duo.

"You just go find your Dad and when you do, you bring him around would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time." They say our goodbyes then get to work tiding the house before the paramedics arrive and they handed over Meg with a more believable story then the Winchester boys could've ever thought of.

--------------

The next morning Riley wake to a voicemail from an unfamiliar number.

Hey Ry, it's me Sam. Listen there was this accident and I... well... it's Dean. They don't think he's gonna make it. Could you please just call me back? We need you.

[the--blackdahlia]

This Life Chapter 12

Title: This Life Chapter 12

Summary:  Dean Winchester is the Vice President of the motorcycle club The Hunters. After almost 7 years in prison, he's free. But things have changed and Dean has to figure out how to put things back together.

Warnings: Language, violence, attempted suicide

AN: Thank you the always lovely @sams-serialkiller-fetish ! The song for this chapter is Nothing Else Matters by Metallica.

Dean couldn’t be sure if what he heard was real or not. He had taken a strong blow to the head in the past twenty-four hours. He turned to look back at Sam, who was looking at him.

“What...what did you just say?” Dean asked. Sam shook his head. “Samuel…”

“I said….I said I tried to kill myself. And dad and I had a talk and…” Sam couldn’t even finish before he was being pulled into a hug. Dean had never been a hugging type person, but Sam was, and Dean just learned to accept it. But right then, Dean was sure they both needed it.

“What happened?” Dean asked, moving back but staying within reach of Sam. Because after Sam’s confession, he didn’t see a young adult with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Instead, he saw a little kid putting on his dad’s vest so he could be big like his brother and daddy. Sam sighed.

“I was coming back from class…”

****

Late 2001

European history ran late due to the professor getting distracted at every turn. So Jessica would already been gone to her nursing practice and theory class before heading over to her parent’s for the weekend. Sam got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to the apartment they shared in St. Claire Gardens. It was a nice night and Sam didn’t mind walking. It helped him stay in shape, even though Jessica sometimes said he worked out more than enough. As he made his way to their front door, something seemed off. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out the small pocket knife he always kept on him. He might be 6’4” and was pretty much pure muscle, but people were still fucked up.

Sam quietly made his way inside, looking for anything out of place. He walked into the living room as the tacky lamp in the corner flicked on.

“Hey son.” John said, sitting in the comfy reading chair that Jessica’s dad had given them from his study. Sam went to the little table that held the landline and the notepad and ripped open the drawer, pulling out the Magnum they kept there. Just in case. “Sam, is that anyway to greet your old man?”

“My dad is dead.” Sam sneered. “We buried him. Who the fuck are you?” John stood up and made his way to Sam.

“The safety’s on son.” John said. Sam looked at the gun, only to have it knocked out of his hand and himself being pushed up against the wall. “Sam, it’s me.”

“H-how?” Sam asked. John let go of Sam and backed up. “I mean, you and Bill…” John explained the story to him as they set down. “Oh my god.”

“I wasn’t going to bug you. But I’ve heard the Horsemen have been sniffing around Northern California. And I wanted to give you a warning.” John said, adjusting the vest he was wearing. It had once housed his patches for the Hunters. But since they all thought he was dead, then he wasn’t a Hunter anymore.

“What does it matter to me?” Sam asked. “I’m not in a club or anything like that. I’m just a law student.”

“But you’re my son.” John told him. “And they tried to kill me and I’m pretty sure they set Dean up. So it wouldn’t surprise me if they tried to come after you to get to me.”

“But if they think you’re dead…” Sam said.

“It doesn’t matter. Because my heart and soul is in Wolfpine. They want to bring down the hunters. And since Jim, Caleb, and Bobby love you like you were theirs, I’m sure that killing you would end the Hunters.” Sam just set there, taking it all in. He had flown back to Texas months ago to bury his dad and a man that was like an uncle to him. But his dad was here. Yeah, he looked beat to hell and tired, but he was here.

“I…” Sam didn’t know what to say.

“Why don’t you come out to Bakersfield this weekend?” John suggested. “I want you to meet the club.”

“The club?” Sam asked.

“Wayward Sons. Even though, just a warning, don’t get Ruby started on the name.” John said.

“Ruby?” Sam asked. “Who?”

“You’ll see.” John stood up and handed Sam a piece of paper. “That’s the address and a couple numbers to call if you need it. Just come on out.” With that, John walked out.

And, against Sam’s better judgement, he was making the four hour drive to Bakersfield early the next morning. He didn’t have a class until Monday afternoon, so that helped. Bobby kept money in Sam’s bank account to help with expenses, even though Sam wanted to make an honest way of living.

It was Saturday morning when John introduced Sam to the club. The girls both fawned over Sam. Lucifer and Gabriel were pretty civil, Gabriel assuring John that Lucifer had been taking his meds, even if he hadn’t. And Andy and Sam bonded pretty quickly.

“We’d like to invite you to the club.” John said over dinner that night. “We won’t even make you prospect in.”

“Lucky dog.” Meg laughed, punching Sam’s arm.

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea.” Sam said. “I’m not club material. Bobby tried to get me to stay in Wolfpine with the Hunters. And I told him no.”

“But Sam…” Andy started, but Sam shook his head.

“I think I should get going. I have a thing to do tomorrow.” Sam lied, standing up. John stood up.

“Sam, come on.” John said.

“I’ll see you later dad.” Sam left quickly, driving back up to Palo Alto. John had left a couple messages on the voicemail at the apartment and had called his phone, but he pretended that his Nokia with the burnt orange faceplate was too out of range to get any service. Sam wanted no part of anything club related. Hunters, Wayward Sons, anything.

Sunday, he went out for breakfast at a diner just outside of campus. He was craving biscuits and gravy, but he really didn’t feel like making that big of a meal for just one person. So instead, he settled himself in a back booth and read something for school while he waited on his food. He was about three paragraphs in when he felt someone sit in the seat across from him.

“Dad, I told you…” Sam said, looking up. He froze then. It wasn’t John sitting across from him. But instead, the original founder and president of the Horsemen.

“Hello Sam.” Cain said. Sam tensed up, moving back some. “Relax kid. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not a Horsemen anymore. Those fucking princes drove me out of my own club.”

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked. The waitress came by and Cain ordered a coffee and pancakes to go.

“I just came to give you a friendly warning.” He said. “I always had a soft spot for you and your brother. You were good kids. It was such a shame that our clubs couldn’t get along.”

“I’m not in a club.” Sam said. Cain nodded.

“So I’ve heard. But the Horsemen don’t care.” He told him. “They’re planning something. Something big. They want to send a message back home to your family in Wolfpine. And I heard your old man is dead and big brother is serving time. The Hunters can’t take another hit.”

“Why would you warn me?” Sam asked.

“I told you. I like you and your brother.” Cain said. “I don’t know what the Horsemen are planning, or when they’re planning on doing it. I just know they have your name and they’re looking for you. And they have a reputation for fire.” Cain got up then. “You can do what you want with what I just told you Sam. But it might be a smart idea to get in touch with another club. SAMCRO offers protection for a price, but Clay is a bit of an ass. There’s a new club on the horizon that might help you out. Or maybe you should go home.”

“I’m not running.” Sam said. “I’m not scared of the Horsemen.”

“Then may God have mercy on your soul.” Cain said. He headed to the counter then to get his order as the waitress gave Sam his food.

Jessica came home that night. Sam didn’t tell her about what he had discovered over the weekend. Instead, he cooked dinner with her and they watched an episode of Friends. Jessica got up the next morning for class and Sam’s life seemed to return to normal. Until Wednesday afternoon when he left his Spanish class and he saw two motorcycles parked across the street.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked as he walked up to them. Andy and John were standing there, waiting on him.

“We came to have lunch with you.” Andy said. Sam eyed him and John.

“That’s all. Promise.” John said. Sam didn’t believe him, but he was hungry. Sam drove his car and Andy and John were on their bikes, heading over to a restaurant not too far from campus. There was no pressure to join the club. There was no talk of the club, outside of Andy boosting about the bar and how good of a bartender Ruby turned out to be.

John and Andy followed Sam back to his apartment, just a safety thing. Sam waved goodbye to them and grabbed his keys. Jessica should be home, but you never knew. He made his way to the door when a rustling caught his attention.

That rustling saved his life, because two seconds later, an explosion inside the apartment caught it on fire.

“Jessica!” Sam screamed. He could hear her cries. He tried to get in to save her, but the roar of the motorcycles stopped him and soon, he was pulled back. Everything was in there, since he didn’t think he needed it. Textbooks, phone, phone book, clothes, Jessica. It was all in there and burning as he stood there and watched. As he waited for the fire department come to help.

Three days later, he was sitting in a house outside of Bakersfield. One that John taken taken over when he went out west and Andy had moved in to to get himself off the streets. He hadn’t spoken in three days and John didn’t really blame him.

“I have business I have to attend to.” John said. “Watch out for him.”

“I will.” Andy said. Sam had been drinking and was currently asleep up in the room that John and Andy had gave him. He had stopped crying at the end of the first night and had taken to drinking the second and third day. Now he was sleeping, and John was fucking thankful.

About an hour or so after John left, Andy heard the sound of a motorcycle revving up. He ran to the front door to see Sam speeding off on it.

“Son of a bitch!” Andy growled. He grabbed the keys to the GMC that they used when they had a lot of supplies or didn’t want to use the bikes. He dialed John’s cell phone as he ran out to the truck.

“What is it Andy?” John asked.

“Sam just fucking stole my bike and is heading west.” Andy said. “He doesn’t look good John.”

“Shit Andy! I told you to watch him!”

“He was upstairs! He must have climbed out or something.” Andy started up the truck and backed out of the driveway. He headed the way that Sam went.

“I’ll see if I spot him.” John said. “Just keep an eye out.”

“Yes sir.” Andy said. He hung up and started searching. John finished up his business and headed out to find Sam. And he found him before Andy did. At a lonely little park way out in the middle of nowhere. It had been put there back when people thought that this area would be expanded and the perfect suburban community. But now people just came out here to screw or if they wanted to be alone.

And John was pretty sure it wasn’t the former for his son.

“Sam.” John said. He noticed a half empty bottle of Johnny Walker on the ground next to Sam as he leaned against the tree. He looked drained and miserable. Much how John looked as he set on a couch in Bobby’s house with a four year old and a six month old after their mother died.

“Just go away.” Sam said. John shook his head.

“I can’t do that.” He said. “Not with you like this.”

“Just let me do this in peace.” Sam said.

“And what’s that?” John asked. He saw the flash of metal then as Sam picked up a gun and laid it in his lap. “Samuel…”

“Don’t tell Dean this is the way I went out.” Sam begged. “I don’t want him to think of me this way.”

“And you think I’m going to just leave you here to do this and then tell your brother in ten years or so when he asks what happened that you died in a random mugging or something and it just slipped my mind? I don’t think so.”

“Just go!” Sam screamed. He picked up the gun, ready to place it against his head, when he got a punch to the face, making him drop it.

“I’m not standing by and watching my youngest son kill himself.” John hissed. “I’ve lost your mother. I watched your brother go to prison. I’ve lost my club, my home. I’m not losing you too.” He pulled sam to him, wrapping his arms around him. “It’ll be okay Sammy. I promise.”

That night, Andy was pacing the living room, worried. He hadn’t found Sam and he didn’t know where he was or if he was even still alive. That’s when John and Sam pulled into the driveway and made their way inside. Sam had a bruise on his cheek from John punching him. And he was exhausted. He didn’t know that John and Andy took turns that night, watching to make sure he stayed in his room this time.

The next day, Sam joined Wayward Sons.

The day after that, they voted him as the vice president.

****

Present

Dean didn’t know what to say. So much information had been given to him in the past twenty-four hours and he was struggling to process it all. He risked a glance over at Sam and saw more of the same. Sam holding it all in, trying to keep it all together. Just like he had grown up watching his dad and brother do.

“Sammy.” Dean said. “Come on man, look at me.” Sam looked over at Dean, expecting the same pitying look that he had gotten from others. Instead, he saw fear of losing his brother and anger that he hadn’t been there when he needed him the most.

“I need to get back inside. I’ve got things to do tomorrow.” Sam stood up and stretched. “And I’m assuming you and Benny will be heading back to Texas in the morning.” Dean followed Sam inside.

“Yeah, about that…” Dean watched Sam. “I’m not leaving unless you’re going back with me.”

“Dean, I can’t.” He said. “I have a duty.” Dean looked at Sam’s vest and realized something about the patches. There was one that Dean had that he knew Sam shouldn’t have.

Men of Mayhem.

Sam had killed someone in the name of the club.

Dean stood there wide eye as Sam made his way back in.

His Sam wasn’t so little anymore, and he had grown up to be just like him.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @i-would-die-for-woodland-demars @dekahg @marvel-af @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles Tags: @luciathewinchestergirl @sheris532 @bobasheebaby @flamencodiva @bella-ca

This Life Tags: @soulslaststand @jamielea81 @caplansteverogers @becs-bunker @supernaturalwincestsblog @colie87

Supernatural Tags: @bandobsession98 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @fangirlsencyclopaediaofweirdness @ilovetardis @missihart23

[foreverwayward]

“Wayward Hearts” Season 2 Chapter 2: Everybody Loves a Clown

Summary: After the sudden death of John, Sam and Dean, along with Riley, continue their quest for vengeance. As Sam and Riley’s powers continue to grow, the three young hunters find themselves closer to the Yellow-Eyed demon than ever before. The strength within themselves and their loyalty to each other will be tested as they are left to fight their families’ lifelong war alone, unaware that unimaginable evil will lead them to face darkness itself as they carry the weight of their fathers’ legacies. 

Masterlist

Word Count: 9,625

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

In the middle of the night, somewhere in the backwoods of Missouri, smoke seeped through the trees into the starry sky. 

Still healing wounds remained on the Sam, Dean, and Riley’s faces. Bruises, scrapes, and stitches were only further, painful reminders of what they had lost.

The three stood around a large fire as they gave John Winchester his hunter’s funeral. He was wrapped in cloth from head to toe as his body laid on the pyre of wood that they had freshly chopped down. 

The fire warmed their faces and the tears that fell from their eyes. It was completely silent beyond the sounds of the forest and the crackling of the fire.

Dean’s face was vacant as he stared into the flames. His eyes still welled until he could almost no longer see. As he blinked, a slow stream flowed down his cheek. Without John there to guide him, the oldest Winchester wondered if he could ever finish what his father started, or if he would ever be able to really let him go. John was more than a father to Dean--he was a mentor, a leader...a partner.

The doctors didn’t know what happened to John Winchester. The injuries he had sustained in the car crash were nowhere near capable of taking his life. He had been cleared only hours before his death. It was as though he just stopped breathing. 

John had slipped away quietly and alone, just like his old partner had. The similarities did not go unnoticed by Riley. His and Jackson’s deaths were too alike to be a coincidence. There had to be a connection.

Sniffling, Sam thought of the last conversation he had with his father. It was one of irritation and disrespect as they had fought, just as they always did. He wondered if John really knew how much he loved him, if he knew that all Sam ever wanted was to be enough for his dad by just being himself. What pained Sam above everything else was that all those years or bickering and unmade memories with his father would haunt him forever.

As Riley’s hands sat in her pockets, she wished for a way to bring John back. She knew that the boys would never be the same. Even more so, she knew the unbearable agony that came with losing a father. The last time she stood before one of those fires, was to say goodbye to Jackson. Memories of his funeral flashed before her eyes, the pain just as fresh as it was that night. There wasn’t a day that passed that she Riley didn’t ache to have him back.

It was hard for Riley to give Sam and Dean their space. All she wanted was to hold them and tell them it would be okay. But she remembered how she was after losing her dad and knew it wasn’t her place to push it. They would come to her when they would be ready. 

Riley sought after the switch in her mind to turn off her empathic abilities to the boys. Hearing their suffering would only make it more difficult not to rush to their sides. 

In a way she blamed herself. She knew something was wrong with John before he died and yet she said nothing. Riley had decided to wait for a better time to discuss things, though that time never seemed to come. The guilt of it weighed heavy on her.

With a sniffle, Sam spoke to his brother, “did, uh--did he say anything to you? Before?” His still bruised and scratched face was wet from crying.

Dean's voice was flat as he mentally checked out. He held tightly to John's secret as a tear ran over his swollen lip. “No... nothing.”

Sam, Riley, Dean fell back into the quiet as they cried to themselves. 

John was gone. The Colt was gone. 

It seemed as if all hope had died and was burned along with the brave hunter.

------

Bobby sat in his study as he worked through anything he could find on the demon. He thoroughly went over all of John’s research over the last year and looked for a way to continue it.

Riley and the boys had been at the scrapyard for a week. Things were tense and somewhat awkward. Sam’s emotions had been up and down and Dean had put up a wall. He wasn’t handling losing his father well and refusing to feel his pain was the only thing keeping Dean afloat.

Dean had even created some distance between him and Riley. She wasn’t sure if it was just his grief, or if he was protecting her or if he was pushing her away. 

Either way, Riley missed him. More than that, she ached for him. They slept in the same bed, though they may as well had been worlds apart. 

Riley had decided to give him his space. But it was harder than she thought it would be. It would have been easier if Finn was with her. However painful though, Riley knew he was safer where he was back in Lawrence.

Grabbing her freshly poured coffee, she went onto the large white porch. The screen door creaked and slammed behind her. Riley leaned onto the railing and looked out into the sea of cars. 

The hunters had sat still so much that past week that her mind was left to wander and overwhelm her. Even the nightmares had returned.

As she took a sip from her cup, she heard shouting in the distance. It was Sam. Riley put her coffee down and hurried down the steps towards the voice. 

She found herself by the garage as she saw the brothers stand by the wrecked Impala. 

Dean had been working on Baby tirelessly as a way to distract himself. He had rebuilt her from the ground up. 

Sam was staring at his brother, holding nothing back as he yelled. “Don’t patronize me, Dean,” Sam scolded. “Dad’s dead, the Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this.”

“What do you want me to say, Sam?”

“Say something, alright?! Say anything for Christ’s sake!” The young Winchester was tired of not dealing with their problems and he had to let Dean know. “Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here buried beneath this damn car!”

Dean looked apathetic as he interrupted, his words still dripping with disdain. “Revenge, huh? Sounds good. So, you got any leads on where the demon might be? Any of you making heads or tails of Dad’s research? ‘Cause I sure ain’t. And when we find the son of a bitch--oh, wait. Like you said, the Colt’s gone. But I’m sure you figured out another way to kill it, right?” His voice changed and he grew stern. “We got nothing, Sam--nothing. The only thing I can do is I can work on the car.”

Riley took the awkward silence as a chance to join them. Her arms were folded with her eyes cast down as she took her time reaching the brothers. “She’s looking good,” she told Dean. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you’d like.”

“Thanks, sweetheart, but I think I’m good for now.”

She nodded and feigned a closed mouth smile.

“Well,” Sam said trying to break the tension, “now that we’re all together, I found us something.” He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through it. “It’s one of Dad’s old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this.” Sam put the phone on speaker as the others gathered around it.

The tone sounded. As a voice came through the phone, it was that of a woman. “John, it’s Ellen...again. Look, don’t be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.”

“That message is four months old,” Sam added.

Dean looked surprised. “Dad saved that chick’s message for four months?” 

Hunters almost always immediately deleted any trail on their phones. It was safer that way and made it harder to be tracked. 

“Well, who’s Ellen? John ever mention her?” Riley asked.

Sam shook his head. “No. No mention of her in his journal either. But I ran a trace on the phone number and I got an address.”

Riley and the youngest Winchester waited for Dean’s response. They knew there would be no going unless he was on board. 

“Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars,” he answered as his eyes squinted to hide from the sun.

------

The loaned blue with brown paneled minivan screeched and smoked from behind it. Dirt from the lot Dean drove over kicked up around them. An old windmill sat in the middle of the quiet property next to a phone booth. There was a large sign reading ‘Harvelle’s Roadhouse’ that sat at the top of a small wooden building. It looked old and almost abandoned. 

As the van parked, it rattled under the hunters.

Dean smacked the steering wheel in frustration. “This is humiliating. I feel like a fucking soccer mom,” he added in annoyance as they all got out.

“Hottest soccer mom I ever met,” Riley smiled. She got a small smirk from Dean in response. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

As Sam walked towards the entrance, he replied, “it’s the only car Bobby had running.”

“Hello?” Riley yelled as she and the brothers searched for any sign of someone else. “Anybody here?”

Shrugging, Dean opened the screen door and went to pick the lock. With ease, they were quickly able to get inside.

It was a bar. Everything seemed to be made of wood, even the floor. Planks of wood made up the walls and random odds and ends hung on them. The air was somewhat stale, yet smelt of the familiar smell of whiskey and spilled beer. It was mostly dark, except for the light that broke through the curtained-up windows. Empty glasses, bottles and shot glasses were littered across the untended bar.

Towards the back, sat a pool table. A man was laying on top of it, sound asleep.

“Hey, buddy?” Dean called.

Riley gave a look of sarcasm. “Huh. Well, I’m guessing that’s not Ellen.”

Splitting up, the team looked for clues or anyone else they could find. Sam and Riley went into the back towards the kitchen as Dean checked the bar.

As he walked around alone, Dean suddenly felt something hard being pushed against his back.

He was caught off guard and closed his eyes in a fake prayer. “Oh, God, please let that be a rifle.”

The rifle to his back cocked. “No, I’m just real happy to see you,” a woman snarked. “Don’t move.”

“Not moving--copy that.” Dean put his hands up in surrender. “But you should know, when you put a rifle on someone, you don’t' want to put it right against their back. ‘Cause it makes it real easy to do...” he turned around swiftly and grabbed the weapon from her hand. Dean discharged a shell from it. “...that.”

Before he could say anything else, the woman’s fist connected with his face. Dean yelled for Sam and Riley as he stumbled. She took the gun back and pointed it in his direction. “I need some help in here, guys.”

“Sorry, Dean,” Sam came out from the back with his hands on his head and Riley did the same at his side. An older woman held a pistol in their direction as she guided them out. “We got a little tied up.”

Finally getting a moment to look, the three stared at the women who had them at gunpoint. The youngest was a long-haired blonde and was actually quite beautiful. She was thinly built, though obviously had a tough demeanor. The other woman that had brought in Sam and Riley, looked like an older version of the blonde, only with sandy hair. Her voice matched that of the one on John’s voicemail.

“Sam and Dean?” the older woman asked? “...Winchester?”

“Yeah,” Dean groaned as he held his aching nose from the punch.

“...son of a bitch,” she whispered.

The younger woman looked her way. “Mom, you know these people?”

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” There was a moment of silence where Sam, Riley, and Dean waited to see what would happen. The woman laughed as she put down her gun. “Hey, I’m Ellen. That’s my daughter, Jo. But I don’t believe we’ve met...” Ellen said looking at Riley.

“Riley. Riley Munroe.”

“Jackson’s girl,” Ellen scoffed. “It’s a damn reunion in here. I haven't seen you since you were a toddler.” There was a pause as she tried to find the right words. “We were all so sad to hear about Jack’s passing. I’m sorry, Riley.”

With a small smirk, Riley acknowledged Ellen’s sentiment. “Thanks.”

Jo had gone behind the bar to fetch some ice for Dean’s nose. 

When she handed it to him, he sat down on a stool and looked at her with trepidation. “You’re not gonna hit me again, are ya?” She chuckled as she went back to cleaning the bar. Dean looked to Ellen, “you called our dad, said you could help--help with what?” He held the ice wrapped in a dish towel to his face.

“Well,” Ellen trailed. “The demon of course.” The three looked at each other, taken back. “I heard he was closing in on it.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Dean looked over at her. “Was there an article is ‘Demon Hunter’s Quarterly’ that I missed? I mean, who the fuck are you? How do you know about all of this?”

“I just run a saloon, but hunters have been known to pass through now and again--including both your fathers a long time ago. They were like family once.”

“Oh, yeah? How come he’s never mentioned you before?”

“...you’d have to ask him that.”

The room went quiet. She didn’t know about John’s death yet and no one really wanted to be the bearer of that news. 

Skipping over the comment, Dean went on. “So, why exactly do we need your help?”

Ellen’s tone changed. She was annoyed with Dean’s attitude. “Hey, don’t do me any favors. Look, if you don’t want my help, fine. Don’t let the door smack your ass on your way out. But John wouldn’t have sent you if--” As if she had put two and two together, she stopped and her face fell. “He didn’t send you.” Ellen waited for a response and a lump grew in her throat. “He’s alright, isn’t he?”

“No,” Sam answered with a heavy heart. “No, he’s not. It was the demon we think. It uh--just got him before he got it I guess.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Dean didn’t want to keep talking about John and turned to her trying to end it with a quick thank you. “It’s okay. We’re alright.”

“Really? I know how close you and your dad--”

He interrupted her with an almost stern tone. “Really, lady, I’m fine.”

Feeling tensions rise, Riley spoke out from her spot off to the side as she leaned against the wall. “Look, Ellen...” Her voice was soft. “You said you could help us. Honestly? We need all the help we can get.”

“Well, we can’t,” she replied. “But Ash can.”

“...who’s Ash?”

“Ash!” Ellen shouted.

A startled whine came from behind them as they all turned. The sleeping man on the pool table could barely get up and knocked the balls as he stumbled awake. 

“What?” he yelled completely disoriented. “Closing time?”

Pointing over to the hungover man, Sam asked, “that’s Ash?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jo nodded. “He’s a genius.”

As he stumbled to meet the others at the bar, Dean retrieved John’s research and dropped it on the counter in front of him. He was irritated as he studied Ash. The man had a mullet and the back of his hair went nearly halfway down his back. Cheap tattoos were on his upper arms that showed from the cut-off sleeves on his plaid shirt. Ash had an awkward demeanor and a face to match with a single earring in his left ear.

“You gotta be freaking kidding me,” Dean snarked as he tried to contain his language. “This guy’s no genius. He’s a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.”

Ash found the hunter amusing and chuckled. “I like you.” His voice was kind of raspy with a mid-western accent.

Riley joined the rest of the gang at the bar. She knew she would need to be a buffer for Dean while he was dealing with everything. They weren’t going to get anywhere with him biting everyone’s head off. “This file is everything John got on the demon in the last year. Can you tell us what you think?”

Taking out a large stack of papers, Ash flipped through them. “C’mon,” he started. “This shit ain’t real. Ain’t nobody can track a demon like this.”

“John could,” Riley reaffirmed. She looked up to see the Winchesters looking at her, pleased with her answer.

“These are non-parametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations...I mean damn. They’re signs--omens. If you can track them, you can track this demon--you know? Like crop failures, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning? Well...it ain’t fun.”

“Can you track it or not?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, with this? I think so. But it’s gonna take time. Uh--give me...” Ash seemed to do calculations in his head. “51 hours,” he stated matter-of-factly. He collected the papers and got up to leave.

“Hey, man,” Dean called. “By the way, I dig the haircut.”

“All business up front,” Ash flaunted as he flipped his hair, “and party in the back.”

Sam and Riley looked at each other and chuckled lightly under their breaths. As he turned, he noticed a folder sitting near the bottles of liquor. “Hey, Ellen, what’s that?”

“Uh--” she went to retrieve it and brought it to Sam. “I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look if you want.” The folder had a newspaper clipping paper clipped to the front. Handwritten on the cover was ‘Couple murdered. Child left alive. Medford, Wisconsin.’

Riley had found a chair at a table to sit near Jo as she cleaned up tables. “I gotta ask, Jo, how did your mom get involved in all this stuff?”

“My dad, actually. He was a hunter.” Jo paused. “He passed away.”

She could feel the sadness coming from Jo, like an old scar that never quite healed. “I’m sorry.”

“I was just a kid. So, it’s been a long time. I’m sorry to have heard about your dad.”

Taking a deep breath, Riley asked the question she knew only Jo might know the answer to. “Does it ever get easier? Them being gone?”

Jo feigned an obviously fake closed mouth smile. “No. I wish I could say it does, but it doesn’t.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid you were gonna say.” Riley looked over at Dean still sitting at the bar. He was alone and quiet as his hands sat clasped together with his eyes down.

“He okay?” Jo asked.

Almost reminiscent of Jo’s earlier response, Riley looked back at her. “I wish I could say I knew, but I don’t.”

“He’s actually kinda cute. I don't think they’re together. He seems pretty distant.”

Stumbling into Jo’s thoughts, Riley snapped her head back in her direction as the blonde gave her a smile. 

Jo was right. It wasn’t obvious that they were together. Things had been different since Dean lost John.

“Riley, come here,” Sam called. “Come check this out.” Getting up, she went back to the bar and Dean found a seat close to them. He went on, “a few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of--looks to me like there might be a hunt.”

Knowing that they all needed something to take their mind off the past week, Riley looked towards Ellen behind the bar. “Well, then I guess we’re gonna go check it out.”

------

Shortly after they had left the Roadhouse, night had fallen over Wisconsin. The rain poured down on the minivan as they drove down the highway. 

They found themselves in a powerful storm. Lightning flashed in the distance ahead of them as the sound of drops slapped against the metal and windows.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean started. “A killer clown?”

“Yeah, he left the daughter unharmed, but killed the parents--ripped them to pieces actually.” Sam held a flashlight over the file of paperwork as he went over it with his partners.

Riley found a way to wiggle up between the two front seats from the back. “The family was at some carnival that night, right? Maybe we’re just talking psycho dressed as a clown?”

“Yeah, the Cooper Carnival. And I don’t think so. The cops have no real leads and all the employees were tearing down shop--alibis all around. Plus, the girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air.”

Making a face of discomfort, Riley looked over his shoulder at the clippings. “Fun case, Sam.”

“Well, I know what Sam’s thinking,” Dean said to Riley. “’Why did it have to be clowns?’” He looked over at his brother with a teasing look and smirked.

Riley chuckled. “What'd you mean?”

“Sammy’s been scared of clowns since we were kids. The guy still busts out crying whenever he sees Ronald McDonald on the television,” he laughed.

Annoyed, Sam scoffed at his older brother. “At least I’m not afraid of flying.”

“Planes crash, dude!”

“And apparently, clowns kill,” Sam rebutted knowing he’d won that argument.

Trying to stifle a laugh, Riley kept it to herself as best she could. “It’s alright, Sam. Clowns are unholy creatures. I’ll agree with you on that one. No one is that damn happy all the time. It’s not natural and flat out creepy.”

“Thank you,” he emphasized as he looked at Dean. “At least someone gets it.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Alright, so these types of murders--they ever happen before?”

“Uh--file says 1981 with ‘The Bunker Brothers Circus’. Same M.O.--it happened three different times, three different locales.”

“They definitely still could be connected. Maybe it’s a spirit. And if so, maybe it’s not bound to a specific place, but a thing. Cursed object?” Riley was always gifted when it came to putting things together. It was something her father had taught her well. “It attaches itself to something and the carnival just carries it around with them.” 

Sam made a face of being pleasantly surprised and nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Awesome,” Dean added in a fake tone. “A paranormal scavenger-hunt.” Taking a beat, Dean turned to his little brother. “Why did you take this case by the way? You were awfully quick to jump on this job.” Sam looked back at him confused. “It’s not like you, that’s all I’m saying. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.”

“I don’t know. I guess--taking this job? It’s what Dad would have wanted us to do.”

The sound of the pouring rain was all that was left as the three hunters went silent on their drive down the road.

------

The van garbled to a halt as they had finally reached the carnival grounds. Two clowns stood talking to two clean-cut men in suits.

“Check it out,” Dean said. “Five-0.” He unfastened his seat-belt as he opened the door. “I’m gonna go see what’s what. I’ll be back soon.”

Sam and Riley got out of the car and slammed the doors shut. Almost in sync, the two found their jacket pockets and rested their hands. 

Putting a hand to block the sun from her eyes, Riley watched Dean walk away.

The young Winchester turned to look at her as they walked over to the side of one of the rides. “You okay?”

Almost snapping her out of a daydream she replied, “huh? Oh...yeah. I’m good.”

Sam scoffed with a smile. “And why don’t I believe you?” He paused. “It’s because of what’s going on with Dean, right?” 

Riley sighed. “Yeah. I just--gotta be patient. That’s all.” They leaned against the metal railing. “He’s dealing with a lot.”

He nodded. “He loves you. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Riley turned her head up to look at the hunter. “The whole thing just friggin’ sucks. But I’ll be here when he’s ready.”

Dean made his way back over to his family. “Alright, so two more murders last night. They were ripped to shreds and they had a little boy with them.”

“Who fingered a clown...” Sam said, innocently not realizing the innuendo. 

Riley and Dean looked at him with discomfort and awkwardness. 

“What?”

“...gross, Sam,” Riley joked. 

He rolled his eyes.

Dean tried not to chuckle. “Yes, a clown. Who apparently vanished into thin air.”

“Dean,” his brother started, “finding a cursed object? That’s like finding a needle in a stack of needles. I mean it could be anything.”

Stepping in front of the two, Riley added, “well, it’s gotta give off some EMF reading, right? So, I guess we just scan everything.”

“Oh good,” Sam chuckled. “Because that’s not inconspicuous at all.”

Dean turned to see a ‘Help Wanted. Inquire with Cooper’ sign on a nearby tent. “Guess we’ll just have to blend in.” 

Giving each other a look of concern, Riley and Sam followed Dean inside.

An older man in a black suit wearing sunglasses stood on a wooden box. He flung large knives at a target, never missing a bulls-eye.

“Excuse me.” Dean moved closer to the stranger. “We’re looking for a Cooper. Have you seen him around?”

Taking off his sunglasses, the man revealed his fogged over, blind eyes. “What is that? Some kind of fucking joke?”

“Oh...oh, god. I’m so sorry.”

“You think I wouldn’t give my right kidney to be able to see Mr. Cooper, or a sunset, or anything else for that matter?”

Dean turned to the others. “You wanna help me out here?”

They tried to control their laughter as Sam pinched his lips together. “Not really.”

“Hey, Barry,” a voice said from behind them. “Is there a problem?” The man was about half the size of Dean. He was in a blue and white starred leotard and had a sequenced cape over his shoulder with a club in his hand. 

“Yeah,” Barry replied. “This guy hates blind people.”

Chuckling nervously, Dean looked back at the knife thrower. “No, I don’t. It’s just a little misunderstanding, that’s all.”

The shorter carnie seethed. “Little? Oh, you son of a bitch.” He went towards Dean aggressively as he raised his club.

In a panic, the hunter went on the defensive. “No, no, no! Could somebody please tell me where Mr. Cooper is?” Riley and Sam couldn’t take it anymore and laughed. Still scared things would escalate, Dean pleaded, “please?”

As Riley’s laughter trailed off, she heard faint laughter as if coming from a distance. It was a sinister cackle that brought chills up her spine. What perplexed her even more was that the sound wasn’t coming from the carnival around her. 

Riley’s telepathy had kicked in. There was something nearby, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out where.

------

Mr. Cooper led them into a small trailer. “You guys picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat.” 

The three looked down at the available chairs. There was one basic wooden one, a tattered leather covered metal one, and a chair made to look like a clown. 

Riley and Dean scurried over to the normal looking seats. Sam was forced to take the chair that made him beyond uncomfortable. 

Covering her mouth, Riley hid a small snicker at her brother’s hesitation and awkwardness to sit. 

“A couple of folks got themselves murdered in the area. Cops always seem to start here first.” Adjusting himself in his seat, Cooper looked at the hunters. “So, you three ever work the circuit before?”

“Uh--yes, sir,” Sam replied. “Last year through Texas and Arkansas.”

“Doing what?”

Not knowing the right answer to give, the young Winchester answered, “a little bit of everything, you know?

Mr. Cooper didn’t buy the ruse for a second. “You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?”

“Nope,” Dean admitted without hesitation. “But we really need the work. Oh, and uh--Sam here’s got a thing for the bearded lady,” he laughed.

“My daddy was in this business too--used to run the Freak Show until it was outlawed in most places. Apparently, displaying the deformed isn’t dignified. So, most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That’s progress, I guess,” the old carnie shrugged. “You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts, always has been--for folks that don’t fit in nowhere else. But you three?” Mr. Cooper eyed the young hunters. “You should go to school. Get married, have 2.5 kids. Live regular,” he said sternly.

“Sir,” Sam leaned towards the desk, “we don’t want regular and we don’t want to go to school. We want this.”

------

Riley looked up at her brother as the three walked away from the trailer. The dirt beneath their boots crunched as they went on. “Sam, did you mean what you said back there? Do you not wanna go back to school anymore?”

“I don’t know, I think I might be having second thoughts about it.”

“Really?” Dean asked in surprise. “I thought you would drop all this and go back to Wussy State once we handled the demon.”

“I just--I feel like Dad would have wanted me to do this--to do the job.”

“Since when have you given a fuck about what Dad wanted?” Dean snapped.

“Since he died, okay?” Sam looked at him in almost a challenge. “You have a problem with that?”

Dean scoffed. “Nah. I don’t have a problem at all.” He walked ahead of the others.

Riley took Sam’s arm in comfort as he leaned into her and they slowly trailed behind.

------

Carnival music played as people crowded through. Holding stuffed animal prizes and an assortment of junk food, the park visitors enjoyed themselves. Screams of fun came from the rides around them.

Sam and Dean had been put on garbage duty. The red windbreakers they wore as a uniform read, ‘Cooper Carnival On-The-Go’. The two walked aimlessly through the park on opposite sides.

After going through a Fun House that made Sam way too nervous for a hunter, to check for EMF, he called Dean. 

“Hey, man,” he said nervously and almost out of breath.

“What’s the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown,” Dean chuckled.

“Haha, very funny,” his little brother replied in annoyance. “So, I was thinking, what if the spirit isn’t attached to a cursed object? What if it’s attached to its own remains?”

Dean brow went up in curiosity. “What made you think of that?”

“There was a skeleton in the fun house.”

“Wait, like a real skeleton?”

“No...still got me though,” Sam said almost ashamed he had been so jumpy.

“Alright, I’m headed to you.” Dean hung up and headed through the crowds.

Barry, the knife thrower who already had a grudge with the oldest hunter, grabbed him by the arm. “What are you doing here, kid?”

“Uh--just cleaning up.”

“Bullshit. We don’t like outsiders. We take care of our own problems.”

“Do we have a problem?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Dean checked around to make sure he was out of earshot before whispering to the old man. “...you believe in ghosts?”

Taken back, the carnie asked in surprise, “what?”

“Me and the others I came with? Uh--we’re writing a book about them.” After a few minutes of lying through the conversation, Dean finally made it to Sam. 

“Dude, what the hell took you so long?” Sam asked.

“Long story. Where’s Riley?” 

Sam pointed behind them to a booth. She was smiling and helping kids throw ping pong balls into fish bowls. 

Riley threw her hands up and cheered as a little boy won. 

“Makes sense. Cooper knew what he was doing. She’s too cute to be picking up garbage.” Dean’s voice lacked the excitement and luster it once had when he talked about her.

With an annoyed scoff, Sam looked at his brother. “What the fuck is going on with you, Dean?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have this incredible girl that’s head over heels for you, for reasons I’ll never understand. And you’ve been pushing her away. You used to be all over each other and this last week? It’s like you’re afraid to look at her.”

“Look, Sam. My relationship is my relationship. Let me worry about what happens between me and Riley.”

Sam sighed. “Well, you better figure it out, and soon. Or you’re gonna push her so far away you won’t be able to get her back.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. Turning back towards Riley, he noticed she caught his glance. She forced another smile in his direction. 

He knew his brother wasn’t wrong, but his head was all over the place. Dean would talk to her when he was ready.

“Mommy, a clown!” a little girl yelled. 

The brothers turned in her direction.

The mother looked around. “What clown, honey? There’s no one there.”

“He disappeared.”

Unsure of what to make of what her daughter had claimed to see, the woman went to turn her the other way. “Come on, sweetie.”

------

After their shift, it was already dark. The hunters followed the family home in their rickety van. Their house was small, quaint, and well kept. The green lawn looked freshly cut and flowers lined the front of the home. 

Sam, Dean, and Riley parked across the street and watched the mother and daughter head inside.

“Dean,” Sam said with a sigh from the back seat. “I cannot believe you told that guy about the homicidal phantom clown.”

“Uh-uh. I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real.” Dean pulled out his shotgun to load it with rock salt rounds. “Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother’s Circus in ‘81 and their evil-clown apocalypse. And...” he drug out. “Before Cooper worked for Cooper Carnivals, he worked for the Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.”

Riley shifted in her seat to look over at her boyfriend. “So, maybe Cooper brought whatever the clown was attached to with him.”

“Yup.” Dean looked over at the family in the large front window. “I can’t believe we keep talking about clowns.”

------

Riley, Sam, and Dean had been on their stake-out for a few hours and the lights in the house were all off. The couple both had fallen asleep in the front seats against their windows while Sam sat alert waiting for any sign of movement.

Suddenly, there was a light on in the main room of the home. The young daughter walked through in her pink pajamas. 

“Rye, Dean...” Sam patted them both to wake them as they too turned to look.

Without hesitation, they all grabbed their weapons and ran for the front door. When she was the first to reach it, Riley pulled out her kit to pick the lock. Within a minute, they were in. 

In tactical team fashion, the hunters split up and waited in the shadows. The little girl came walking down the hall as she held the hand of the clown, his bells jingling with every step.

Its face was painted white with a red smile though his mouth stayed in a frown. Under a faded stocking cap, it had bright red curly hair. The onesie it wore was old and worn with polka dots and a large white long collar that wrapped around its neck.

"Want to see Mommy and Daddy?” she asked. “They’re upstairs.”

Once the clown was in a perfect position, Riley grabbed the girl and pulled her to the side as Dean shouted, “hey!” 

The little girl screamed in fear of the strangers and as the oldest Winchester fired a shotgun shell into the clown’s chest.

The creature hit the floor and laid still for only a moment before beginning to get back up.

Dean reloaded as he saw the clown rush in his brother’s direction. “Sam, watch out!” 

Sam dodged its charge in time for it to rush past him. 

The creature flew through the glass door as it shattered. It let out an inhuman, maniacal scream and disappeared.

Both parents ran downstairs to the noise as the father yelled, “what’s going on?” Seeing the hunters, his voice was filled with panic. “What the hell?! Who are you?! What did you do to my daughter?”

“Mommy, Daddy, they shot my clown,” the girl cried.

Quickly, the trio sprinted back to the van as they escaped the angry father.

------

Unloading the minivan, the three had parked it in a secluded and covered area off some quiet road. Dean gathered the gear and Riley took off the license plates. Sam searched the car for anything they’d forgotten.

Riley grabbed her tools and put them back in her bag. “Better safe than sorry. Not sure if they caught our plates or not.”

“Good riddance,” Dean huffed. “I hate this fucking thing.” The family closed up the van and slung their bags over their shoulders before trudging down the old road. “Well, one thing’s for sure. We’re not dealing with a spirit. That rock salt hit something solid.” He turned to his brother. “You find anything in Dad’s journal?”

“Nothing useful,” Sam replied.  

There was a moment of silence. The only sound around them was that of the insects in the abandoned fields around them. 

Riley held on to her backpack with her eyes down. Things were too tense, and she needed to focus to keep her mind from wandering into the boys’ emotions; not to mention the thoughts running through her own head at a mile a minute. 

Watching Dean in the hospital had nearly killed her. Riley only had him back for a brief moment before everything came crashing down around them. Dean was right beside her and yet she still missed him--missed how they were, who he was.

Sam pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open.

“Who’re you calling?” she asked.

“Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know something that can help us. Hey,” he paused. “You think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?”

“Oh, god,” Riley scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “Sam, I was trying not to think about my own father possibly with her.”

He laughed. “I don’t know. I mean why did they never mention her to us?”

Dean was still disconnected and his tone showed it. “I don’t know, maybe she and Dad had a falling-out.”

“You ever notice John had a falling out with a lot of people?” Riley smirked. 

Both of the brothers nodded in agreeance.

“Well, don't get all maudlin on us, man,” Sam looked Dean.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it’s bullshit.”

“Oh, god,” Dean exhaled. “Here we go.”

“I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

“You know what, back the hell off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

“No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, alright? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

Riley felt the emotions change from frustration to anger in the blink of an eye. Intervening would only make things worse. She stayed a step behind them as she breathed through it. Dean was about to lose it.

“Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay?!” he yelled. “I swear, the next fucking person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!”

They stopped walking as Sam turned Dean. “What are you talking about?”

“I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, ‘oh, what would Dad want me to do?’ Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you--you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him for Christ’s sake. And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you can't, it's too little, too late.”

Taking out her bottled water, Riley took a sip and closed her eyes. “Focus. You can only control it if you focus.”

Sam’s face looked nearly brokenhearted. “Why are you saying this to me?”

“Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death!” Dean’s eyes widened as he shouted loudly. “Are you?

Riley ran a hand through her hair. All she could do what watch the two most important people in her life struggle to grieve for their father. She could feel every bit of their pain if she just let go and it was too much. The worst part about her empathic abilities was not being able to fix the hurt she knew others were in.

There was a hard lump in Sam’s throat as he grappled with the guilt he felt for how things ended with John. If he stayed there any longer, he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Dean’s words had cut him like a knife. 

“I’m gonna go call Ellen,” Sam uttered.

Stepping up closer to Dean, Riley just looked at him. She was almost angry for how he spoke to Sam, but it still wasn’t her place. Her eyes looked hurt and lonely as she turned to head down the road, leaving Dean by himself. 

He took a long breath realizing he may have over-done it with his little brother. Dean was too proud to admit that he didn’t know how to deal with the loss of John. Dean couldn't confide in either of them the secrets he carried that weighed heavy on his every step. 

Keeping those he loved at a distance was what was best for everyone, or so he thought.

------

Further on down the road, Sam wrapped up his phone call. “Alright, thanks, Ellen. Talk soon.” He flipped the phone shut. “Rakshasa”

“...uh--bless you?” Riley said sarcastically.

He laughed under his breath. “Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited.”

Dean held onto the strap of his bag with his duffel in the other. “So, they dress up like clowns and the children invite 'em in.”

“Wait, then why doesn't the thing just eat the kids? Not that I’m suggesting that it should.” Riley’s legs seemed to work overtime as she kept up with the two tall hunters.

“No idea. Not enough meat on the bones maybe? But I guess Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects.”

Making a face of utter disgust, Riley looked up at Sam. “Lovely.”

“Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess.”

“Well, that makes sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81,” The older Winchester added. “Hey, guys, who do we know that worked both shows?”

“Cooper.”

Riley was uncertain. “Eh, I'm not so sure. I didn’t get a vibe, ya know?”

“You could’ve missed it--it happens,” Dean shrugged.

She had had enough for the time being and huffed as she walked ahead. Riley’s little legs tried to put some distance between her and her boyfriend.

“What’d I say?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “She’s trying to help, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just saying. We gotta be sure.”

“Right. Whatever. Anyways, legend says the only way to kill it is with a dagger made of pure brass.”

“I might just know where we can get one of those.”

As they trudged on, Sam watched Riley ahead of them. The tension between him and his brother was enough. But to watch it build between Dean and Riley as well only made it all that much worse. 

------

Dean thought Barry would be their best bet to find a brass knife and they knew they had to check Cooper’s trailer. 

After forming a plan, the team split up. Riley believed in her gut that it wasn’t Cooper and they would just be wasting their time. So, trusting her instincts, she decided her time was better spent talking to the blind carnie. Besides, she needed some breathing room. Riley was never one to bite her tongue, but she was trying so hard to be patient with Dean.

Riley found the old man and he guided her to his dressing room as his walking stick swung ahead of him to guide him along. “You know, I have a lot of knives, but I’m not sure if I have a brass one, sweetheart.”

“Well, I appreciate you checking for me, Barry.”

“Of, course.” He led her inside. The walls were cheap plank wood and the grey carpet was worn. Barry’s suits took up part of the side of the room along with his vanity station. The carnie tapped on a wooden trunk by the door with his stick. “Check the trunk.”

Riley crouched down to open the green trunk. It was cold and had brown leather straps to hold it shut. 

When she opened it, the laugh Riley had heard when they first came to the carnival echoed in her head. That same chill ran up her spine as she saw the same tattered and dirty onesie with polka-dots that the creature wore. The curly, red wig sat beside it.

She was right. It wasn’t Cooper--it was Barry.

Riley’s head snapped in his direction as she stood. “You?”

The man’s stick dropped and he removed his sunglasses. “Me.” A Cheshire Cat-like grin grew on his face that would haunt any child’s nightmares. His eyes changed to a strange and creepy glow as he waved at her in a sinister manner before disappearing. 

Hurrying to the door, Riley found the knob had been locked. She shook it and tried to break the door down, with no luck. 

The laughter returned and she felt an eerie presence. 

Riley turned to look behind her just as a knife flew in her direction barely missing her face. “Oh, shit!” she exclaimed. Knives continued to fly through the air and into the door around her. 

Knowing she had no other way out, Riley tried to bust open the door with her shoulder. Again and again she rammed the door. “Join the circus, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.” When it wouldn’t budge, Riley groaned at the new pain in her arm and grew frustrated.

She took a step back and gave a hard donkey kick to the door before it finally busted it open. Being smaller than the boys made hunting so much more difficult, but Riley would be damned if that’s what stopped her.

As she ran out and back towards the carnival grounds, she ran past the Winchesters.

“Hey!” Sam called.

Riley hit the breaks as she stumbled to stop herself so quickly. She turned back to face them.

“Oh, hey,” she replied as she caught her breath.

“So, Cooper thinks Dean and I are peeping Toms, but it isn’t him. You were right.”

“Well, as much as I love hearing you say those words, Samuel,” Riley started with an ornery tone. “I don’t think we have time to dwell on it. It’s Barry--the blind guy. He’s still here somewhere.” She looked at them between frantically searching around them. “And no, no brass blade. Just been one of those days.”

“Are you alright?” Dean asked.

Not realizing she was connected to Dean, her thoughts went through to him. “Oh, suddenly he cares.”

His face scrunched in surprise. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Riley’s eyes grew a little as she realized he had heard her.

Luckily, Sam interrupted. “I got an idea, let’s go.” He led the way as the others followed and they ran in the direction of the Fun House.

The entrance was the mouth of a large clown that poured out blue fog as they scurried up the ramp. It was dark inside and the room was filled with neon-colored glowing doors. Some were mirrors and other were actual doors. It gave the illusion of infinite possibilities. 

Having been there earlier though, the Sam knew the way as he went through the right door. But before his partners could follow him, the door slammed shut.

Dean banged on the door, “Sam!”

Riley could hear that same familiar evil laughter. “Guys, it’s here!”

“You guys gotta find the maze,” Sam yelled from the other side. 

The two turned in the opposite direction to find another door. 

Heading down the only path available, Sam walked on. He saw the organ that he had come across on his first trip through the Fun House. That was what he came back for--its pipes were brass. The other hunters had finally found another way to Sam as he was trying to pull off one of the pipes. He looked back to them as he pulled. “Where is it? Did you see it?”

“No. Nothing,” Dean replied looking around. “I mean, shouldn’t we see his clothes walking around or something?” 

At that same moment, a knife whisked in Dean’s direction. The blade nearly missed his arm as it pinned his canvas jacket to the wall. Another two flew immediately after, securing him in place.

“Dean!” Riley yelled as she went to him. Though she used all her might trying to free him, the blades still wouldn’t budge. She grunted and fought against whatever was holding them there.

Finally, the Sam had broken off a pipe and armed himself. “Where is he?!”

“I don’t know! I can hear him, but it’s in my head, not around me!” Riley looked around for another option. She spotted a lever that was connected to the pipes through the rooms. Pulling it, steam was released, and it clouded the space. Riley immediately went back to trying to free Dean.

Looking up to his brother, Dean could see the figure of something moving through the steam. “Sam! Behind you! Behind you!” he shouted.

Heading Dean’s warning, Sam spun around and thrust the brass weapon in front of him. With a thud, it went into something solid. 

A figure appeared through the smoke as soft, glowing yellow eyes flickered. There was a screaming growl that erupted from the creature as it faded away.

As if the Rakshasa’s death had released a magical bind, Riley could finally remove the blades from the wall and Dean was freed. She turned the lever she had pulled before to turn it back off.

When the couple ran to Sam, they all looked down to the ground. There, in a pile laid the clown’s costume. The brass pipe had cut through them and the creature was gone. 

Dean struggled to catch his breath. “I fucking hate Fun Houses.”

------

The Roadhouse was much livelier than their first visit. Other hunters had blown into town and sat cleaning their weapons at the tables. The sound of the jukebox played in the background. 

Sam and Dean sat at the bar as Ellen brought them beers. Jo leaned on it beside them.

“You boys did a hell of a job your dad would be proud.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied. He was busy in his own world as he thought over everything. Hopefully, Ellen’s words were true and he did do right by his father.

Jo cleared her throat. “So...”

“So?” Dean took a sip from his bottle.

“Am I gonna see you again?”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be coming back at some point or another--yeah.”

She could see her point was being missed. “Maybe then we could, I don’t know--spend some time together? Get to know each other?” Jo’s voice was soft and flirty.

Dean chuckled. “Uh--look, I don’t know if you know this, but...Riley and I, we’re kind of a thing.”

Jo was taken back. “Really? Wow. I never would have guessed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. you don’t seem very close is all. There just doesn’t seem to be a spark.”

Turning on his stool, Dean saw Riley leaned against the jukebox. She was looking for a good song while she sipped at her beer. 

Dean half smiled as he faced back to the bar. “There is. There really is.” His eyes found Jo. “I love her. It’s just...complicated right now.” He turned the bottle in his hands.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Jo sighed. “Well, I hope things get a little less complicated for you.”

“Thanks, Jo.” Dean’s mind seemed to disappear into a rabbit hole as he nursed his drink.

Ash came through the back door with John’s research folder and a laptop. “Where the hell have you guys been? I’ve been waiting for ya.”

Riley smiled at the ridiculous man. “We were on a job, Ash--evil clown.”

“Clowns? What the fuck?” he asked in repulsion.

She laughed with her lips around the bottle of her beer as she drank. “You got something for us, Ash?”

Ash set up on one of the tables nearby and sat down and the others gathered around. His laptop looked rigged and definitely had been tampered with to enhance it. “Well, the demon is nowhere around--at least nowhere I can find. But if the fugly bastard raises its head, I’ll know. I mean, I’m on it like Divine on dog dookie,” he chuckled.

Sam looked unsure. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off, like a fire alarm.”

With a scoff, Sam asked, “Ash, where the hell did you learn to do all this?”

“M.I.T., before I got bounced for fighting.”

Riley’s eyes grew with a smirk as she looked at Sam before replying, “M.I.T.?”

“Yeah. It���s a school in Boston.”

Sam and Riley tried so hard to contain their small, stifled laughs. 

“Okay, give us a call as soon as you know something?” Dean added.

“Sí, sí, compadre.”

Dean smiled as he downed the last of his beer. The three stood and nodded as a ‘thank you’ as they began to head out the door.

“Hey,” Ellen called. “If you kids ever need a place to stay, I got a couple beds in the back.”

“Thanks, but no.” Dean smiled softly. “I got something I gotta finish.”

Ellen smiled back as the hunters left.

------

It was warmer that day in Bobby’s yard. Dean’s sweat showed through his shirt as he worked on Baby again. The hubcap squeaked as he tightened it. 

Sam had wandered out into the yard to find his brother.

“You were right.”

Dean looked up at him as he stood to walk around the car. “About what?”

“About me and Dad. I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him. So, you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late." Sam’s lips trembled as his history with John overwhelmed him and his voice broke. “I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not alright. Not at all.” Tears formed in the hunter’s eyes as he tried to fight them. “...but neither are you. That much I know.” He paused looking at Dean. The older Winchester’s jaw clenched, though he said nothing in return. “I'll let you get back to work.” Sam turned around and headed back for the house.

Riley had been working on a car of her own nearby to pass the time. She knew there may come a time when she would need some space and she wanted to be prepared. It was also soothing for her. Jackson and Riley worked on cars together all the time. It helped when she missed him.

When she heard Sam talking, Riley went over towards him. By the time she got there, he was already walking away. She stood by the garage and rubbed the oil off her hands onto a red cloth. Riley looked at Dean and could see the hurt he was feeling. If only he would let her in, she knew she could help. 

Taking a deep breath, Riley was building up the courage to go over to him. As she did, Dean picked up a crowbar and smashed the window of a nearby car in a rage. 

Riley stopped as Dean stared at the Impala. Squeezing around the bar, he slammed it down with all his might into the back of the car. Riley covered her mouth as she gasped in shock while Dean continued to wail on the trunk. It chipped, bent, and broke under the assault.

The crowbar clanged on the ground as Dean dropped it. His breathing was ragged and he shook in anger. He tried not to cry as his emotions consumed him. 

Dean turned around only to saw Riley by the garage and caught her gaze. She waited to see if he would ask for her to come to him as there was a pause. 

After a moment, Dean ran a dirty hand down his face and turned to walk away.

A soft cry escaped Riley's mouth. She had shut out Dean’s pain intentionally so she could try to give him space. But there was never a moment she didn’t know he was hurting. Watching him explode on the one thing Dean had left of John was enough to break her heart . 

Riley’s back found the wall nearby as she slid down it. Her knees sat in front of her chest and she wrapped her arms around them to comfort herself. 

With a final wave of emotions, she hid her face and sobbed. She wept for it all; John, the Colt, their failure, Sam, and Dean. Riley missed how their family had been before the crash, before they lost John.

It was moments like that where she remembered why she never dated. Being too close to someone was nothing but heartache. 

------

S2 Chapter 3: Bloodlust

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[stusbunker]

Known: Hunters

A Supernatural Dark Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Female OC, Dean Winchester x Demon!Reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: With respect to my readers’ devotion to the show and its story lines, I have included dates relevant to air dates for reference points. I try not to repeat information you already know, but please ask if something doesn’t make sense! xoxo Stu

Warnings: Physical and Emotional Torture, captivity, blood, demons, Hell, Leviathans, show level violence, Slow Burn. More warnings to come. Each chapter will have its own warnings.

Earth Date: November 7, 2011

Location: Rock Port, Missouri

There were things she had seen that could make a military general shit his tighty whities, but never had Chloe Collins seen the unparalleled shift from one being into another. Werewolves, Skin-Walkers and Shifters, none phased that seamlessly. The man took one look at Reynolds, a burly backroad hunter, and instantly took him down with a sleeper hold. And then he WAS Reynolds: voice, gait, everything a complete replica.

“Ah, come on CC, you know he’d been dying for a taste,” the thing looked down at her partner on the case and stepped pointedly on to his neck. “I guess he died for me to have a taste.” Her stomach lurched as it approached her.

Things started falling into place in the panicked walls of her mind. The weird economic booms, the smarmy politicians and their inspirational press conferences. The fact that civilians kept getting dumber by the day. These things were behind it, she wasn’t sure how or why, but there were too many coincidences to ignore it now. Chloe braced herself to square off with an attacker that had half of a foot and fifty pounds on her.

‘Another fucking Apocalypse’, she internally cursed. The unnamed beast reeled back, and its neck opened to reveal rows of teeth and a putrid tongue. Chloe stabbed with all her strength, her signature ceremonial dagger sank into its chest. It swung back, unaffected by the wound. She jumped back, trying to shake off the blow to her head, the one-of-a-kind weapon lodged in the beast’s torso. As she grabbed for the pistol in the waistband of her jeans, deep voices called for her to duck. Surprisingly, she listened, leaving the vision of Sam Winchester a clear shot to douse her attacker with a healthy cascade of industrial cleaner before Dean removed its head.

She had died, this was it. She died with the idiotic hope of a rescue; her memories threw some unexpected pair to her thoughts as her brain started to short circuit. CC closed her eyes and smirked at the way phantom-memory Dean’s lips had curled as he sliced through that black-oozing-shifter with a solid machete stroke. ‘Yeah, at least I wasn’t the only one who went down swinging,’ CC thought as she fell unconscious.

The familiar weight of an old quilt pinned her to the bed. A musty pillow case cooled her cheek as she rolled over, ignoring the world around her until the last moments of her consciousness slammed into focus. Chloe sat up, scrambling for her dagger and her gun. They were waiting for her, cleaned and within arm’s reach on the nightstand. The worn wooden floor led to a large open cabin where her rescuers were casually watching soap operas. It was all too neat and so glaringly wrong at the same time.

The super-shifters had been throwing the Winchesters under the bus for the most public and absurd crimes. They wouldn’t keep her alive, unless they needed her. She tried to justify their use of dead hunters’ faces for their vendetta, but it only resumed the throbbing in her skull. She fell back on the bed, the old mattress bouncing enough to draw the well-trained ears of the man-shaped beasts across the room. She had her weapons in her hands and perched on her knees as Sam stood to approach her.

He raised his massive hands in surrender, “CC, hey, it’s okay. It’s us.”

“Sure, it’s you,” she snarled. “Weird place for a couple of mass murders to be hiding out. Whose place is this? Why are you wearing my friends?”

“Chloe,” Dean’s deep voice caused her to blink, his hands mirrored Sam’s. The concern and honesty defying her fighter’s instincts. “Come on, sweetheart. We’re not Leviathan. Those sonofabitches are really bad for business,” his voice trailed off to Sam, who only shrugged.

Dean stepped closer and she cocked the hammer. “Why would we gift wrap your weapons if we were monsters?”

“Obviously they don’t do much to you, but all I need is to slow you down.” She threw her knife square at Sam’s chest, he barely spun in time, as Dean charged her gun hand. He shoved her hand up. CC got one shot off through the ceiling before Dean fell hard against her atop the bed, wrenching her arm back forcing her to finally drop the weapon.

“It’s us, CC, I swear. Let us show you, please?” Dean’s voice was tired, the last word said on a whisper. Sam stood back, playing with her knife between his long fingers, admiring the runes. His brow was pinched and his chin out, not sure what to say to make her see them in a better light. She nodded, frustration and confusion winning over their insistence.

The man rolled off her, letting her hold her weapon as they talked. Her eyes kept moving, checking the windows and furniture for quick escapes. Something she couldn’t shake was how he even smelled like Dean. They dosed themselves with her Holy Water, salted each other and even cut themselves with both the silver and iron edges of her treasured blade. Their final test was new, they assured her that it was for them, the Leviathan, and nothing happened once Sam and then Dean sprinkled a type of detergent over their opposite hands.

“Okay?” Sam offered, his big puppy dog eyes waiting for her to process it all. She shrugged, holding her gun over the pillow clutched to her chest.

“To answer your question, this was one of Rufus’ safehouses. Bobby brought us here once and when we had to go deep cover--” Dean leaned with his elbows on his knees, trying to remember the last time he had seen her. The past few years had been such a whirlwind, he had barely kept his head up for air.

“Wait, Chloe, let’s say we’re not Sam and Dean, or at least the Sam and Dean you know—”

“Sammy?” Dean’s groaned, rubbing his eyebrows.

“No, Dean, listen. Chloe, why is it so hard for you to believe us?”

She looked at Sam through squinted eyes, his soft tone just like the one he would use on victims’ families. Wary, yet not as distrustful as the first few minutes of their conversation, “because the Sam and Dean I know, are dead. They died stopping Lucifer and the Angels from frying the planet.”

That got their attention, Dean and Sam shared a look, Sam’s eyes brightening with the turn of events.

“Who told you that?” Dean’s voice was brass, obvious with disbelief.

“Bobby Singer.” Chloe spat, her head rolling a little with her certainty. Dean laughed, while Sam paused, but thought it out. She continued, “he said Sam had taken Michael and the Devil to hell himself and Dean—”

“And Dean what?” Sam drew a chair from the breakfast table and sat backwards on it, listening intently.

“was gone,” she finished on a rattled breath.

The brothers shared another look, while the woman stared at them, really and truly taking them in. They had aged, Sam was leaner, Dean’s eyes more lined. Monsters would have taken them as they were, not able to replicate something as unique and unpredictable as human mortality. “Well, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, sweetheart.”

“I was in Hell, but got brought back,” Sam started, letting it sink in.

“And I left hunting, or tried to, had a bit of a domestic hiatus, you could say.” Dean shrugged, the softness of his smile warming the thick block of ice that had settled in her stomach.

“But, why didn’t Bobby tell me?” Chloe countered, trying to out logic their explanations.

“Bobby kind of has a soft spot for us, I think he wanted Dean to have a normal life and, well, I spent a year without a soul. He was protecting his own.” Sam offered, an apologetic grimace on his face.

“Yeah, let’s just be grateful you didn’t meet that Sam. Him, you wouldn’t have believed.” Dean muttered, getting up with a soft pat on CC’s knee. He went to the fridge for a beer.

“Dude!” Sam chastised him. “What is it 10 a.m.?”

“You want one?” Dean offered to Chloe, ignoring his brother’s judgement.

“Got anything stronger?”

“You know it.”

Earth Date: January 13, 2012

Location: Hell, A Never-Ending Hallway

This was worse because it was all an illusion. There was no end in sight, just enough progress to keep that minuscule drop of hope alive. You had to hand it to the king, this was a much more effective and hands-free form of torture. You patrolled the corridor, eyeing the prisoners, souls in every hue and stage of damnation. Your scaled flesh caused many to shudder as you approached; showing your true form was cathartic now. The years as one of the tortured long behind you as you suffered alongside the helpless masses as one of the enforcers.

It was still Hell, but it had grown on you.

Earth Date: August 20, 2012

Location: Odell, Oregon

The call rang on until the clipped voicemail message greeted Chloe, again. She angrily ended the call, biting back the curses at the stubborn man. If the phone had been ditched, it would have gone to voicemail instantly, or to an outdated disconnected message. No, Sam had kept his phone charged and on, he was just choosing to ignore her calls. They had never been close, but his blatant disregard ruffled her sense of mutual respect held amongst hunters. He needed a good head smack. Among other things.

What would Dean say about his little brother’s lack of manners? God only knows, Chloe thought as the familiar clutch of grief writhed within her chest.

 Earth Date: February 25, 2013

Location: Lebanon, Kansas

 “No.”

“Please? Just close your eyes, it’s a surprise.” Dean’s eyes widened, looking like a hopeful third-grader instead of a middle-aged scruff covered hunter. Chloe crossed her arms and shook her head. “Just turn off the huntress-ness, for like three seconds. Help a guy out here?”

“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” she muttered, closing her eyes dramatically as Dean rushed to slip the ornate key into the large metal door. She held out her hand and cleared her throat, expectantly. Sam chuckled beside her and she elbowed him. A warm calloused hand took hers, while the other gathered her at the small of her back.

“Alright, CC, welcome to our new place,” Dean, both proud and excited. She gaped, her mouth open in genuine shock. She looked at Sam, who seemed sick as a dog and then back to Dean who was grinning like a fool. Sam just shook his head, his hair fluttering as the door closed behind him.

“Ready for that tour?”

“Why are you even on this side of the country?” Sam asked as they waited for Dean to bring out their plates. He had insisted on playing host, another surprise for Chloe or just general hospitality from a man who had never had a permanent home? It was quite the coin toss.

“Honestly?” Chloe sighed, resting her feet on the chair next to her at the library table. “A cryptic message from Garth and boredom. Been trying to stay off the ol’ Angel radar, because, no thanks.”

Sam nodded, holding up his hands half in a shrug, half in dismay, “Yeah, tell me about it. Unfortunately, we don’t have that sort of luck.”

“Or good sense,” she added, giving Sam her questioning eyebrow.

“Fair enough. But, uh, you look good, everything going okay otherwise?” Sam cleared his throat, changing the subject from the Winchesters’ poor life choices. Chloe let it slide, ignoring the compliment and sidestep with a generous swig of her beer. She nodded, but before she could reply an exuberant Dean burst from the kitchen with two plates overflowing with homemade potato wedges and bacon cheeseburgers.

“Oh, he cooks too? I’ll take three, please,” she cooed underneath her breath, knowing full well Sam heard her. They ate quickly with large gulps surrounded by appreciative groans. The burgers were mouthwatering, and the fries seasoned to perfection. As Chloe played with the last of the ketchup on her plate, the boys debated their next move. Lots of big talk about Gates of Hell and Trials, she got the distinct impression that Dean was not so pleased with Sam bearing the brunt of the upcoming uncertainty. The Winchesters had always been on a higher echelon of hunters than CC or even most she had ever worked with. But this was big, after everything they had already done, she wondered if their mission had become another crusade. Perhaps that drive is what made them great, perhaps it is what cost them a majority of their friends and all of their family.

It was most definitely the thing that drew her to them since they saved her from that Leviathan. And it was the second most terrifying thing about them that left her questioning her sanity.

Earth Date: March 30, 2013 (Just before the episode Taxi Driver)

Location: Hell, Outside Bobby Singer’s cell

“You’re certain?” You asked the guard in a demonic dialect before peeking through the decorative metal inlay of the unlocked door, having grown over the years, your height allowed you easy access to loom around the bend.

“Everyday. They send someone in with a glamor to confuse the old coot. It’s always one of two brothers. Sam Winchester,” the growl in her voice broke off into a purr. There was still much trepidation over the true vessel of Lucifer, even demons had their kinks. “Or Dean.”

A name that had been barely a rumor over the last centuries, especially the years since the fall of Lucifer’s acolytes Azazel and Lilith and the rise of Crowley. Yet a name you would never forget. The king was a known consort of all manner of beings, from heaven to the scum of humanity. But to have a version of Dean Winchester in Hell where you could see him again? The prospect was overwhelming, even if it was a torment-intended simulation. You hurried back down the row of high priority souls, prisoners that had been won or stolen from Heaven. Souls that had done the most damage to the armies of Hell during their living years. Their pain resonated through the stone walls, sickly sweet.

Over the following months you left your patrols earlier and earlier, escaping to the dungeon that housed the humanly mentor of the man that had irreparably changed you. And each day you watched the various exchanges, smooth and cavalier Dean attempting to rescue Bobby Singer, desperate demonic Dean thirsty to spill the old man’s blood or broken and sobbing Dean begging Bobby to end him. If you weren’t so biased, the Sam illusions would have been equally as moving, Demon-blood strengthened Sam claiming he had found his true family, a preteen Sam begging Bobby to teach him how to shoot only to have his eyes darken and turn on his teacher or a Red-Eyed Sam, a poor rendition of Lucifer, but effective against the soft insides of their paternal figure.

You learned much in your time watching the torture of Robert Singer. He was an impressive soul, even after decades of torture he routinely told the imposters to stick it where the sun didn’t shine. Like any parent, he had a favorite, no matter how he tried to hide it. He preferred Dean, but that was because he saw his own emotional vulnerability in the young hunter. Sam was more like John, with whom Bobby routinely butted heads. His love ran deep, no matter who was favored or understood best. Which was why it was so easy to maintain the doubleganger inflicted agony. And your misery loved their company.

One evening, having missed a turn due to overly flustered messenger demons, you were later than normal to escape your duties and relish in the vision of Dean. The King was not pleased and therefore everyone worked to keep their heads down, patrols were increased, any charge was overly-minded. When you rounded the corner, one of the Sam Winchester doubles was barking at the soul of Bobby Singer and another was screaming that the other was not real. Well this was a twist, but then you saw them, bodies of your fallen brethren zapped from their human meatsuits. It was the real Sam Winchester, as you watched the hunter and the old man run away, you stood frozen. There was no way to salvage this without going toe-to-toe with Lucifer’s vessel who was also the only being Dean would do anything for. You let them go, hiding in the shadows, knowing there was something brewing above.

With the loss of your daily reminder of him from Bobby’s enforcers, your hunger for Dean only intensified.

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