#the kansas house has a free little library!!

[talldecafcappuccino]

I also rewatched the last bit on the plane with the flash forwards and everything and...I'm fine with it?? Ted looks genuinely happy when Henry runs out the door and his smile at the very end is a little muted for my liking, but it's not bad by any means.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Out Of Options

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: angst, anxiety and being paranoid

Summary: As much as Dean wants to help you, his methods aren't working and you're getting worse. You turn to your brother and a trusted friend to try and help, but you might have to create the reality that this Mark doesn't want to part from you.

Past, Present, and Future Masterlist

Square Filled: dean winchester (crossover bingo) for @fandombingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The Mark craves power and you have a steady source of it on your other wrist. The effects for Dean were different because he was a human with no powers to supply the Mark. He had to kill in order to satisfy it whereas you’re in a constant state of wanting to kill something and using your powers to feed the Mark.

All you want is to get the damn thing off your wrist. Taking it at the time seemed fine but now that you’ve had time with it, you don’t like the evil presence it has. There is something dark and dangerous about this that you don’t like and you’re not sure how to part from it. What Dean showed you--the alcohol, the shooting, the rage room--helped a little bit, but now you’re back to how you felt before.

Anxious, paranoid, stressed, and everything else that makes you question the motives of everyone around you. Stephen isn’t much help either even though he says he’s trying to figure out a way to get it off you. What if he isn’t? What if he says he is and doesn’t have any intentions of helping you? What if everyone around you is against you?

“Y/N, you need to calm down,” Dean says.

You keep pacing the length of the library while muttering to yourself and scratching the arm the Mark is on. Sam, Dean, and Castiel are standing off to the side watching you with worried looks.

“I can’t. Get this thing off me. Please tell me you can get it off me,” you whimper and continue to pace.

“Cas?” Sam asks.

“If I couldn’t get it off of Dean, what makes you think I can get it off an Infinity Stone?”

“Will someone tell me they can get this damn thing off me?!” you shout.

Every source of light flickers on and off, and the tables shake from the intensity of your voice.

“Y/N, we’re trying--”

“I know you are,” you cut him off. You try to force yourself to calm down because you don’t want him to worry. If he knew the damage it’s doing to you, he’d only feel guilty for forcing you to take it. “How did you get it off in the first place?”

“The Book of the Damned,” Sam answers. “We could try that again.”

“Do you know what happened the last time we used that thing? Amara got free and terrorized Earth. God and Amara are locked up. If we use that thing, they will be free and who knows what will happen because of it.”

“We live in a world with magic and wizards. Someone out there has to know how to get this off me and keep it contained so they don’t get out.” You stop pacing when you think of that word. Magic. Stephen isn’t the only one who knows how to do magic. “I think I know someone who might be able to help.”

“Who?”

“My brother and his wife live in Westview. He’s not magical but his wife is. I think she can help.” You look at Dean. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Why not? I’m not doing anything else,” he shrugs.

“Let me know how it goes,” Sam says.

You create a portal to Westview which is at a different timezone than Kansas. The city of Westview is small and isolated from the other towns but the people seem happy there. Vision gave you his address when he and Wanda first moved there in case you ever needed him, and now you’re taking him up on that offer.

You easily find their house and see kids’ toys and bikes all in the yard. You knew they were trying to have children but didn’t know they managed to do it. He’s not human so he can’t produce sperm. She must have used magic to bring her children to life. You walk up the porch steps and knock on the door rapidly. The door opens and Vision stands there looking like a real human being. No stone in his head and wearing a suit and tie like he has somewhere important to be.

“What did she do to you?” you ask.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you. Come in.”

“No seriously, what did she do to you?” you ask and walk inside.

“It’s to help him blend in,” Wanda says from the stairs. “We both agreed it would be easier on the town if they saw him this way.”

“Right.”

“What are you doing here?” Vision asks.

“I need your wife’s help.” Dean clears his throat and he shuffles from one foot to the next. “Um, right. Dean, meet my brother, Vision, and his wife, Wanda. This is Dean, my…”

“Friend,” Dean says for you and shake both their hands. You’re not sure if that’s what you two are but it’s so hard to focus on other things when your head is always pounding. Though, you feel some sort of disappointment at being called his friend. “Nice to meet you.”

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asks.

You open your mouth to explain to her what’s going on when you notice Dean looking at you. You can’t do this with him listening. Two seconds later, his phone rings and he steps off to the side to answer it. Now’s your chance. You explain to both of them what you did for Sam and Dean, how it affected Sam, how you took the Mark off him, and how you took it on. You explain everything as fast as you can without leaving anything out, and you show both of them to Mark on your wrist.

“I‘m falling apart over here, Vis. I can’t tell Dean any of this because he’ll feel worse than he already does. I thought I’d be able to handle something like this. I’m the Time Stone. I know power but this is unlike anything I’ve ever come across in the universe. This is something evil. Please, you have to do something to help me.”

“Have you talked to Dr. Strange?”

“Yes and he says he’s working on it but he’s taking too long. I need it off now. Isn’t there anything the Mind Stone can do?”

“Let me see.”

You hold your hand out for him to examine the Mark. Dean comes back and looks a bit worried.

“Who was that? Are you okay?”

“It’s Sam. He caught a vampire case.”

“Do you need to go?”

“No, he’s got Cas. Can they get it off?”

“He’s looking at it.”

Vision runs his thumb across the Mark, and you flinch from how sensitive the flesh is. He turns back into his robotic purple self, and the Mind Stone glows brightly on his forehead. He shoots a light beam onto the Mark to try and minimize the effects it has on you, but it does the opposite. You yank back in pain and cry out from the sudden urge to kill something. A sharp pain shoots up your arm and into your heart.

“I’m sorry. The Mark drew power from me. I’m not sure what it is but it’s powerful and unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“May I?” Wanda asks.

“Yes, please.”

She takes her left hand and holds your wrist while red magic comes out of her right hand. Her magic encompasses the Mark as she tries to pull it from your body but the second she does, you two get the shock of your life. Both of you are blown back to opposite walls, and she cries out in pain when her magic bounces back into herself. You fall into the wall where a couple of picture frames fall on your head, and Dean rushes over to you to help you up.

“What the hell happened?”

“The Mark doesn’t want to leave you. It found a source of power it doesn’t want to part from,” Wanda explains. “I can’t help you.”

“There’s nothing you can do?” you bite your lip worriedly and lean into Dean’s side.

“Wakanda might be able to help,” Vision says and holds his wife close. “They tried separating the stone from me, and Shuri nearly succeeded. Maybe they can separate the stone from you, and the Mark won’t have any use for you.”

“Fine. Thanks for trying.”

You create a portal to Wakanda right outside their dome because you don’t want to go in the middle of the city and have them start firing at you. Dean has never been out of the country much less to Africa, so this is all new to him. It takes some effort but the border is open for you and Dean to pass through.

The Dora Milaje meets you halfway to the castle and escorts you the rest of the way where Shuri, Queen Ramonda, and King T’Challa are. Again, you explain to them what is going on with you and keep out the part about how much it’s destroying you since Dean is here. He’s distracted and taking pictures to send to Sam but you keep it vague right now.

“Vision and Wanda couldn’t help and they suggested you, Shuri. I don’t know what else to do, and you nearly succeeded in getting that stone out of my brother.”

“Follow me.”

She and her brother take you inside the castle and down to the lab, all the while Dean is gasping at everything he sees and taking even more pictures.

“Sorry about him,” you mutter.

“It’s not a problem,” T’Challa smiles. “Just no pictures of the lab.”

“Yeah, you got it,” Dean nods.

“So, this is the same process as with Vision, right? Removing the Mind Stone is the same as removing the Time Stone from me?”

“Each stone is complicated in its own way, but I will definitely try.”

Shuri and T’Challa look at each other, and you see the unspoken words between them.

“What is it?”

“The only issue is that Vision is more than just the stone. He’s Jarvis, Ultron, Bruce, and Tony all rolled into one person. You’re just the stone. It’s going to be a lot harder to separate it from you.”

“But Stephen Strange is the one who did this to me. I have a part of him inside me, right?”

“Right. It’s not impossible, just more difficult. Come.”

You look at Dean once before following Shuri into the back room where she once worked on Vision. This time, there isn’t a threat looming outside so you think she’ll have all the time she needs to get this done. She hooks you up and starts diagnosing the stone before actually starting to remove it.

As soon as she’s ready, she begins trying to separate the stone from your body. You wince in pain and look away, and Dean walks over to grab your other hand. You smile painfully at him and he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand letting you know he is here for you. Even through all this pain, you still get butterflies whenever he does this sort of thing to you.

“Something is wrong.” You and Dean look at Shuri who looks like she is struggling to separate the millions of nerves attached to you. “It’s fighting back.”

“It’s the Mark that is, not the stone,” you say.

She tries to remove a nerve but what happened with Wanda happens here. She and T’Challa go flying back while you and Dean fly back in the opposite way. The small blast is enough to break the machine Shuri was using, so much so that two Dora Milaje come rushing in with spears thinking their King was attacked.

“We’re okay. Stand down,” T’Challa orders.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper and stand up. “This happened with Wanda but much less damage.”

“The Mark is protecting itself. It doesn’t want to part from the stone so it will do anything to keep it intact.”

“What do I do now?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs.

You fall back into a chair and silently cry at the lack of options.

x

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[shoeshineblue]

THE INVISIBLE MOUNTAINS OF WICHITA KANSAS

I arrive in Wichita at night, driving an elderly black lab in an elderly white Jeep from New Mexico to Kansas. Belle is my girlfriend’s dog. She has arthritis and dementia. She would have been content to live out her life in the Oklahoma panhandle where we stopped to pee. I built her a dog ramp, which is a long parallelogram made of wood and carpeting, designed to wedge into a passenger side door that creaks and no longer opens all the way. It is an arthritic situation but she is a good girl and we manage. The great brown nothingness of the desert cross-fades into the greener nothingness of Kansas. I have started over so many times that any sense of wanderlust has been exhausted out of me. I’ve built lives in Missouri, Washington, Idaho, Montana, Oregon, New Mexico, and now Kansas. In each place I leave behind all of the components that could sustain a person indefinitely, only to do it all over again.

My approach to exploring a new home is always the same. I ride my bike everywhere. A bike ride gets me in close to the invisible borders and restitched seams of a city. I ride past factories that only run at night and piles of scrap metal, tall as apartment buildings. I ride the skatepark where fear is grown then eaten through pain and repetition, and you can bum a cigarette off a fourteen year old.

Wichita allows its ghosts to live in the broad daylight of its progress. An abandoned factory meditates in a field, a dented limo is for sale, a boarded up corner store is a few blocks away from a multimillion dollar library. An

new city folds into a older city, then unfolds back into tallgrass prairie, where the only commerce is between rodent, serpent, and hawk. It is sliced up by rivers that binge and purge on spring rains and old railroad lines that have beat out the same rhythm for 150 years.

The first train to arrive in Wichita came in the dead of night in 1872. Twenty seven miles north, Newton, Kansas celebrated their first railroad a year earlier. Frederick Harvey stationed one of his famous Harvey Houses there. Despite the runaway progress of the railroads, dining had been barbaric and out of step with the sleek new world. Harvey Houses offered young capon in hollandaise sauce, prairie chicken with currant jelly, and with each oyster mounted on a cracker, the world became a little more dignified.

Sunday mornings in the midwest are quiet before church lets out. I have the streets to myself. Paved paths run for miles along the river. Skunks eat cat food from porches and snow egrets pluck catfish from the water. Canadian geese have stopped migrating because the retired woman living on Back Bay Boulevard has slowly domesticated them, generation after generation, with a simple fistful of seeds and a Simon and Garfunkel song that she hums into the Wichita wind.

In the late 1800’s, members of the Wichita Bicycle Club would ride 50 to 100 miles on high wheeler bicycles. This was years before roads were smooth and the advent of the pneumatic tire. By the 1900’s, newspapers like “The Daily Free Press” out of Winfield, Kansas, and “The Topeka Daily Capitol” hired fleets of bicyclists to deliver their papers. These bikes were the classic paper boy cruiser with balloon tires and swept back handlebars —a simple, comfortable machine that turns kids into adults and adults back into kids. These bikes would eventually be hacked and modified to become the first mountain bikes, ridden down the fire roads of Marin County,

California by a mix of disenchanted road racers and athletic Dead Heads.

My bike is ugly. This is no accident. It is secretly expensive, but I let it wear its scars and scratches so it can be locked up unmolested. It is a simple bike from a simpler time. I can take it apart and put it back together while drunk. I originally built it with a friend in Portland’s oldest bike co-op while listening to Madonna’s greatest hits. It has been hit by a car and bent back into alignment. It has dodged rattlesnakes and chased road runners in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains. It has done everything I have ever asked it to do. It is easy to fetishize a bicycle—a sleek, naked object with nearly all of its working parts exposed. Nothing is hidden except for the bearings, sealed away from the light and distractions of the world so they can fight their private war against friction. A bicycle is a kind, forgiving, perfect machine.

The cobblestone of Wichita’s arts district fades into the dirt and gravel paths that hug the Santa Fe line. The houses along the tracks are overgrown with weeds but the kettle grills are clean and well loved. Motorcycles are propped up on blocks with broken little headlights. Puncture resistant tires are necessary for this kind of urban industrial exploring. The ground is always churning a previous generation’s broken glass back to the surface along with ancient shards of limestone and tenpenny nails. The past is sharp, not smooth. Ugly riding is best done in ugly clothing on an ugly bike. Neon lycra will clash with the chainlink fences and barking dogs. Do not ride your thousands of dollars worth of carbon fiber through a world that still rests on the shoulders of steel. Blend in. Move like a feral cat from alley to alley—ears back, unnoticed. Feel the terrifying glory of being alone and riding where you are not supposed to be.

The old Beachner grain elevator on 21st street is a midwestern ruin. It crumbles and bleaches in the sun like the Colosseum in Rome or the

theatre at Epidarus. Its chalky silos make the blue Kansas sky seem Mediterranean. I ride into the abandoned truck lanes among piles of tires and broken concrete to reach the foot of the tower. The industrial graveyard sings a siren song to my bike, begging it to stay and rust and rot. Birds and small mammals repurpose the shadows to eat each other in the rubble. The food chain keeps eating until the last thing is chewed. Each time I ride to the grain elevator to touch the old monolith, I have the heavy feeling that I don’t belong there, that I should let the dead rest. The silence near the silo is absolute. Crows fly but do not caw. The wind does not rustle the weeds. I say something to hear the sound of my own voice, and it is swallowed quickly by something unseen. Maybe it’s the nature of decay. Even sound dies when it is no longer needed.

This is all part of an industrial corridor where old railroad lines divide the neighborhoods, creating a thoroughfare for trucks and bars and steakhouses that are forever “under new ownership”. Smoke billows from a nearby factory and it produces the most seductive smell, a bit like fried chicken mixed with pure cane sugar but with a forbidden chemical umami. I imagine it is what dogs experience when they are drawn to a pool of antifreeze dripping below the family car. I should ignore the smell and hold my breath but instead I think about lunch.

I’ve always loved the way factories look at night. From the right distance, they become small cities with lights beaming through steaming layers of metal. The piping moves like an improbable highway system, connecting one building to the next.

Train tracks ran through the west wing of the cosmetics factory where my parents worked. My first job was working at the same factory. It was difficult, repetitive work and I had to learn bizarre ways to occupy my mind, but it was one of the great lessons of my life. Everything I ever had as a

child; every meal, toy, bike, and pair of jeans was paid for by the raw hours my parents spent working the production lines. It’s a brutal equation, but my parents are masters at living within their means. While their coworkers were on the hamster wheel of debt with new Cameros, bass boats, and other status items of the midwestern 80’s, my parents were driving Japanese sedans into obscene mileage and paying off their modest house. I learned that work will build you a life, but after that you have to find a true way of living it. This is complicated because, as individuals, we are a mess of wants and needs and expectations. It’s hard for me because I like to write songs, toss noodles in a wok, tell jokes, and make friends with cats. Nobody is paying me for any of this, especially the cats, so work and self live separately.

My first instinct in Wichita is to fall back on what I know. I am hired to cook at a nice restaurant and I work there for exactly one day. The shift goes perfectly, but I have already lived this moment so many times. My heart is no longer in it. That type of high volume, high octane line cooking is best left to those who are still in love.

The city announces approval of a new central library to be built in a field on the west banks of the Arkansas River. Before ground is broken, I know I will work there. I ride by the site regularly, and for a year I watch dirt and grass become steel and glass. I interview my way in and land myself a challenging job that peels me like an onion skin, revealing my strengths and weaknesses. I find that I can process a lot of information and that I am a decent teacher, but I also learn that I can wreak holy havoc on an Excel spreadsheet. I can’t make the little boxes do what they are supposed to do so I click on them until they no longer do anything at all. The image of the quiet librarian sitting behind a desk and moving in a slow current of work does not apply to this job. Thousands of books and materials need to be

processed daily. I train clerks, negotiate large debts, and calm the nerves of unstable people. I track and perform forensics on a large print copy of The Grapes Of Wrath that has taken a mysterious joy ride though several library branches and has somehow put late fees on an elderly woman’s account. She is furious and swears up and down that she would never read Steinbeck. I make a joke about sour grapes and she laughs. The job fits me like a glove.

Great workers are everywhere. They are easy to spot in the service industry, where hustle is on display, but there are other forms of greatness. My car mechanic has the bedside manner of a pediatrician. I sit at diner counters if I can watch an experienced short order cook—someone who has spatulas for hands and can hear the inner thoughts of an egg. I note the economy of movement, the steady breathing, and the stillness in the face. Great workers will witness the full length of our species. They will build the first and last thing.

In the summer of 2017 I witness a perfect worker.

I break up with my laundromat. There have been too many lost quarters and blown out dryers. I am tired of the absentee owner—someone who comes in the dead of night to collect their fortune in change. Notes are posted on the bulletin board complaining of lost money, faulty washers, and dirty bathrooms. Most of them written in all caps.

To find a new laundromat, I look to the sky for smoke and follow the smell of chicken. A small jaunt north puts me in the Hispanic neighborhood, and there is a laundromat across the street from “The Chicken Man” who smokes whole birds in the parking lot of a used tire shop. On weekends, the empty lots fill with fruit vendors and people selling sweet corn, decorative blankets, and framed prints of the Santo Nino de Atocha. The

intersection is a Brigadoon. Most days the lots are empty, but on some days they turn into an impromptu market. Then it disappears again.

I walk into the new laundromat with a toppling pile of laundry. The double doors are awkward and an orange falls out of my open backpack. I don’t even eat oranges. It is caught before it hits the ground by a man in a starchy white shirt. He gives me a quick nod and places the orange gently back into my backpack before rushing off with a broom. All around there are houseplants, pinball machines, and a jukebox that plays Madonna’s Greatest Hits on a loop.

For the first time in my life I try a side load washer. I have always known the side loader is the superior machine, but laundry—like spaghetti and meatballs—is about memory and mothers. After a lifetime of watching my clean clothes come from the top of an off-white Maytag, it’s an emotional leap to trust the cold stainless steel washer with the porthole window. But you have to grow up sometime.

The floors are spotless. Every machine works. All of this is the work of one very industrious man—the man in the starchy white shirt, the orange catcher, the owner, operator, and lone employee. I usually read at the laundromat, but this time I watch the maestro at work. He does not cross the floor without picking something up or relining a garbage can. There is no wasted movement, and he works in a counter clockwise pattern— addressing washers, dryers, and folding stations systematically. Occasionally, he pops a few quarters in a pinball machine, lights it up, and leaves the extra plays for the chubby kid patiently waiting to take over. By the time the kid finishes the game, the man in the starchy white shirt has redistributed his fleet of wire push carts. All the while Madonna sings “La Isla Bonita”. Last night “she dreamt of San Pedro”. Today she turns this

laundromat into a dance floor.

The foundation of physical grace is good footwork. If the torso moves smoothly, know that the feet are skilled. I’ve seen one common move among many trades. I call it Plato’s Pivot, because I like to think that people have been doing this move since they were building the Parthenon in sandals. I learned it by working as a pizza cook, where I had to move quickly within a small space with another cook. The idea is simple. Turn one foot out in the direction you need to go, pivot the hips, take one long step, re-square the hips as the second foot drags into position, then reverse the motion exactly to return to your original position. The molecules of air should still be brushed aside to ease your return. This puts you in two balanced stances with the fewest amount of moves. I’ve seen cooks do this move, but I’ve also seen nurses, mechanics, and laundromat owners do it. Once I was watching an episode of Law and Order and saw a lawyer do Plato’s Pivot while revealing evidence. He pivoted to the judge, then re- squared himself to address the jury. I imagine the actor worked in a kitchen between auditions. Once Plato’s Pivot is in your feet, the Earth will forever glide beneath you.

I finish folding my shirts as Madonna explains to her Papa that he really shouldn’t preach. She’s made up her mind, she’s “keepin’ her baby”. She’s “in an awful mess and she don’t mean maybe”. I tuck my socks into one another and I agree with her. “What she needs right now is some good advice”. The owner and I exchange nods as I leave. Nice, efficient nods. No need to break his momentum.

By the summer of 2020 I am living alone in a large old house, two blocks from the Little Arkansas River and four blocks from the regular old Arkansas River. The rivers duck and weave until they meet in downtown Wichita. I have my own washer and dryer and no longer need the maestro,

but now I am in Covid lockdown and miss the small duties of life. I miss rummaging for quarters and waiting in lines. I miss the guilt of staying out too late at the bar. I miss playing music. I occasionally go to barbecues, baseball games, and street corners where I gossip with my neighbors, but these are stolen moments in a game of cat and mouse that we are playing with our health. Then I get into a hot summer fling with a drive-in theatre.

The Starlight Drive-In operates in a nostalgic dream. It is surrounded by mobile home parks, a roller rink, and a BMX track, where kids smoke in the berms. As the pandemic settles over us, drive-in theaters find themselves with a valuable asset: space. A bike ride to the Starlight Drive-In is an ambitious ride south along the riverbanks, and for a stretch, it becomes feral. People live in the woods and under bridges. I once saw a beautiful woman bathing nude under a bridge which was alarming in a thousand ways.

By bike, I can easily sneak into the Starlight through the tree line, but why would I do that? Why not give my money to help polish a rare gem? I strap a lawn chair to the rack of my bike and unfold it on one of the gravel mounds where you would park a car. I use a little transistor radio to pick up the audio and I brought a nice bottle of claret to pair with the chili cheese fries they sell at concessions. I’m a cheap date. I think about how simple and romantic this might be if I weren’t just one dude in a lawn chair, but whatever. Things converge and things fall apart. On the horizon a radio controlled plane does loop-de-loops in the last bit of light, and next to me an entire family snuggles under a single heavy blanket in the back of a Ford F150. Moments like these seem to contain everything, but I’m a world in a raindrop kind of guy. This is initially charming to women, that so much can be had with so little, but after a few years of this, the world must feel a bit small. Thus the one dude and one lawn chair.

Tonight’s feature is 1987’s “A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors”, a movie that features a young Patricia Arquette and a killer song by Dokken. The last surviving children of the parents who burned Freddy Krueger find themselves together in a psychiatric hospital. They try group hypnosis in an attempt to have a shared dream so they can finally put the old demon to rest. That’s kind of what it is to watch a movie with other people, a shared dream. The bike ride and the chili cheese fries and the wine make for a great first half of the movie. I’m having the time of my life, but by the second half I start nodding off in my chair. If there is one message the Nightmare on Elm Street franchise promotes, it is don’t fall asleep! That’s when the Freddy Krueger gets his sharp little hands a- cookin’. But there I am, shifting around in a lawn chair on a mound of gravel on a hot summer night, batteries dying in my dumb little radio, not sure if I’m still in the shared dream with everyone else or completely on my own.

[autisticgaycastiel]

Pride Month Destiel Fic Recs 🌈✨💖🏳️‍🌈

hi hellers! so since it’s pride month and I’ve spent the last 7 months reading a truly RIDICULOUS amount of fanfic, I thought i’d compile a mini rec list of fics that centre around LGBTQ+ themes - enjoy! feel free to reply with your thoughts on the fics or other recs :)

Mi Casa es tu Casa by MalMuses

(au, word count: 29k, rating: E)

An AU with a two-person love triangle where Castiel works in an office by day and helps his brother to open an LGBT-friendly bar by night, and Dean is struggling with his sexuality while working a dead-end job. Things get interesting when Castiel begins to receive phone calls from a cautious-but-charming mystery man 'Armando', but Cas becomes torn when a sexy new maintenance man starts working in his building...

i’m a sucker for a two-person love triangle and this fic is a great slow burn - i also really enjoyed the exploration of Dean’s sexuality, and the scenes where Dean is called to Cas’ office are very funny!

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by amidsizedfrog

(canon, word count: 3k, rating: T)

Sam is an overly supportive straight ally and Dean is a homophobic gay person. Coming out was never going to go smoothly.

This is the first fic in an excellent series of canonverse fics about Dean coming out to different family members and i would DEFINITELY recommend reading them all - this particular fic is very light-hearted and hilariously accurate in that Sam, Dean and Cas are all terrible people who have trouble communicating - a quick but worthwhile read!

Go Down With This Ship by PorcupineGirl

(au, word count: 31k, rating: E)

Since he has to stay deep in the closet to protect his job as a children’s librarian in conservative Wichita, Kansas, Dean’s main outlet for sexual frustration is writing and reading slash fiction for his favorite show, Devil Boys. When he starts corresponding with AngelofThursday, another male slash writer in his ship, he really is just looking for friendship… but when it seems like more might be on the table, he’s not going to turn it down. If only he didn’t also have a crush on Cas, the hot volunteer at his library branch…

I told you, I’m a sucker for a two-person love triangle! This is such a unique AU concept and I was apprehensive about it at first but SO pleasantly surprised - although it’s a bit more angsty, the setting is perfect for a very interesting exploration of both Cas and Dean’s sexualities!

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by @sobsicles

(post-canon, word count: 62k, rating: E)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

Or: Dean and Cas work through their shit in Heaven post-15x20 and adjust to eternity together

I couldn’t make this list and not include one of my all-time favourite destiel fics. This fic has LITERALLY everything you could possibly ask for, including excellent writing and characterisation, Dean working through his repression and coming out, a truly hilarious scene when Dean first arrives at Cas’ house, some cracking Sam moments, literally all of their found family, Cas nearly killing John Winchester, and they have a bar!!! *chef’s kiss* a delight!

First Impressions by suckerfordeansfreckles

(au, word count: 7k, rating: T)

When Cas wakes for the first time after his surgery, it takes him a while of uncoordinated blinking and thinking until he realizes where he is, why he’s here. And then the giddiness comes, sudden and overwhelming, when he looks down at his chest and there is none. He's happy, and giddy, and so thankful. And then a nurse wheels in his new roommate, one very obnoxious and flirty Mr. Winchester. Cas just... cannot wait to watch all of this play out.

A really sweet and fluffy fic with trans!Cas, perfect for if you need a bit of cheering up, plus a little cameo by Charlie! Also the first in a series - if you enjoy this one the others are definitely worth checking out.

He Will Be A Friend of Mine by @menschdean

(canon, word count: 900, rating: G)

Supernatural came out in 2005.. Brokeback Mountain came out in 2005 (with its hetbait posters).. Dean loves cowboy movies.. thinking about 26 year-old, mid s1 Dean…. going to the movies...

a ‘missing scene’-style fic that I think about on a fortnightly basis - i did not know it was possible for >1k to absolutely unzip me before i read this fic. Early seasons Dean and Brokeback Mountain are truly an excellent combo

Stories Are Made of Mistakes by wildhoneypie

(canon, word count: 5k, rating: T)

In which Cas is human and doesn't understand basic concepts like: clothing, Mythbusters, moisturizer, and Greek food. Dean is...Dean and doesn't understand basic concepts like: boyfriends, language, how to tell your friend that he's a walking miracle, and when not to quip.

Short but very sweet, with human!Cas and an oblivious Dean coming to terms with his feelings (and freaking out when Cas tells the waitress they’re dating!)

17th Birthday by @the-wednesday-tales

(canon, word count: 1.1k, rating: T)

Inspired by an excerpt from John Winchester's Journals. Dean celebrates his 17th birthday with his first solo case, and comes to a heartbreaking realization.

Ok so this one is more angsty than the others on the list (this fic broke me and I think about it twice a week) but it’s well worth a read because who doesn’t love reading about teenage Dean grappling with his sexuality?

Married for a Week by JessJesstheBest

(au, word count: 11k, rating: T)

“It wasn’t until he was standing at a fake altar in front of a fake priest clasping hands with Castiel Novak that Dean thought he may have made a terrible mistake.” Or, the one where Dean and Cas get fake married. FOR SCIENCE!

A super fluffy fic where the boys are both vets, Cas is asexual and Dean is aromantic - it’s great to see the love and intimacy develop between them during the course of the fic, with plenty of funny moments too!

A Room Of One's Own by NorthernSparrow

(canon, word count: 94k, rating: E)

All Dean wants is a little privacy. Cas doesn't understand.

A smutty and hilarious fic chronicling Dean’s realisation of his attraction to Cas and coming to terms with it - an absolute classic by the BRILLIANT NorthernSparrow.

[bijoharvelle]

doing these prompts! today is “eating outside” & it’s dedicated to @eccentriccas because i have ‘rich girl’ by hall & oates stuck in my head. read the whole series!

They’ll be gone in the morning. 

Jack was first to leave, heading out to make his own path and see the world while he did it. Then Cas and Dean, a little while later, after finding a house, fixing it up. They told Sam, over and over, he was welcome at the house, there was a room that was his, permanently or otherwise. Sam shook his head, took his time. He’s always liked the bunker, really. There was everything and more that he needed, give Sam a few free hours and his choice of what to do and more than likely he’d choose a secluded corner of the bunker’s library and a pile of books.

So he stayed and worked the phones for a little bit -- hunters have an easy go of it; any jobs these days are just clean-ups now that cosmic entities are out of the game. Sam stayed and cataloged and read and networked and Facetimed with Dean and with Cas and with Jack. And then, finally, he opened his laptop and started searching for apartment listings in the small central New Jersey suburb that Dean and Cas have settled.

So now, they’ll all be gone in the morning. Cas and Dean and Jack all made their way back to the bunker to close it out. Sam didn’t really need the help, but he recognized the gesture for what it was.

They’ve organized and cleaned and cataloged. Sam has at least four boxes of books and information and ephemera that he’s taking with him (Cas has two himself, though, so he doesn’t feel too bad). It’s hot, mid-summer in Kansas, but the air gets more bearable as the sun sinks and they end up with take-out dinner on the roof.

There’s a small collection of sad lawn chairs still up there, a few outdoor pillows, covered with a tarp held down by bricks. By some silent agreement, they forgo the chairs, spread the pillows out, and huddle in a lazy sort of sprawl. Jack watches fireflies rise and bounce in the long grass below them. Cas tells him which species they are, that fireflies are actually beetles, about other insects and animals with bioluminescence. Dean has his head in Cas’s lap and is slowly drifting off, Cas’s fingers absently stroking through his hair.

Sam downs another burrito and looks to the stars. He remembers being young and looking to the night sky and praying to God - a more innocent time. He thinks about fate and free will, about puppetry and Eileen. Dean has been dogging him to call her, go after her, make the big romantic play, since they finished everything with Chuck but - Sam isn’t sure. He’s sure that he wants to, no question there, but Eileen had been sure when she left. He doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

A french-fry to the face wakes him from his reverie and he looks back to see two former celestial beings with very innocent faces and his brother asleep. “You should set a better example for Jack,” he tells Cas because Dean has definitely influenced Cas. If anyone is going to launch a complex carbohydrate at Sam’s face, it’s going to be Dean. Dean is asleep, so his money is Cas. Judging by the guilty smile and downward track on Cas’s face, he’s right.

“Are there fireflies in New Jersey?” Jack wants to know, still smiling from their antics. His eyes track over the grass, though.

“Yes,” Cas answers. “There are a lot in our back yard. And the nearby park - we’ve walked there in the evening; there’s a field that they light up. But you won’t find them much further West than Kansas.”

For so long, all roads led to Kansas. Birthplace, family homestead, middle of the country marker, and then this bunker, this home chosen for them. And it’s good, it’s been good.

Sam has never been happier to leave something behind.

“Plenty of deer out in Jersey too, huh?” Sam asks.

“Don’t fucking get me started,” Dean says, as if awoken by the mention of deer. 

“He and the deer have a rivalry,” Cas explains matter-of-factly.

The conversation drifts and ebbs as summer breeze rustles the tallgrass below. Sam thinks about home and sees it in the eyes of his brother, his best friend, his son.  

tags under the cut, as always pls let me know if you wanna be removed or added!

@prayedtoyou • @folklorecastiel • @good-things-do-happen-dean • @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you • @nesnej •  @bianca29753 • @spaceshipkat • @601218764 • @nickelkit • @dizzypinwheel • @epple-benene • @kayrosebee • @feraladoration • @queenvee08 • @destielangst • @destiel-is--real • @brazencas • @destielle • @flowersforcas  • @50shadesofsubtext • @multifandomagic • @fluffiestlou

[365days365movies]

January 8, 2021: R.E.D. (2010)

Time to continue the action-comedy trend by getting away from the buddy cop trend, and hitting a different style of comedy: the ensemble. I’ll talk about this more during Comedy April, but one of my favorite comedies is an ensemble comedy. That would be 1963′s It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World.

I cannot properly explain how much I love this movie. It’s only grown over the years, and I WILL get into this one day. Don’t know HOW...but I WILL.

Anyway, what do I mean by the ensemble? It’s a cast composed of many big names, especially those famous or popular at the time the film is made. Nowadays, superhero films tend to be our ensembles, as well as some other action films that I’ll get to later this month.

But in today’s case, the ensemble is different. Rather than purely action or comedy stars, they’re kind of all over the genre map. But ere we go, here’s the list of stars:

Bruce Willis, Morgan Freeman, John Malkovich, Helen Mirren, Karl Urban, Mary-Louise Parker, Brian Cox, Richard Dreyfuss, Ernest Borgnine, James Remar. Seriously. LOOK at the list of people up there. That’s one hell of an ensemble. None of them particularly well-known for comedy, and that’s handled in a surprising way. Which movie is this?

R.E.D. is definitely an interesting movie as action-comedies go, but let’s get into it, shall we? SPOILERS AHEAD, as a warning heading forward!

Recap

Frank Moses (Bruce Willis) is a retiree living in suburbia, reading romance novels, and calling Sarah Ross (Mary Louise Parker), a girl working in the GSA pension office. Sarah Ross is most likely the Inevitable Love Interest of this film. The two decide to meet up in Kansas City, where she works.

But no time for that, as a group of masked assailants invade Frank’s house to kill him. But, see, it turns out that Frank’s ex-CIA. He handily takes them and turns the tables, then goes into the basement to prepare. Meanwhile…

Not very subtle, huh? I feel like the neighbors know what’s going on at this point. Frank takes on the rest, the house collapses, and he makes his way to Kansas City...directly into Sarah’s apartment. She freaks out (appropriate reaction), as he warns that people are trying to kill her, because they know how he feels about her via their (likely surveilled) phone conversations. She’s not buying it.

So he kidnaps her.

Good start, building trust, establishing boundaries, good start.

We now cut to an opulent estate, where The Butcher/Executioner/Judge Dredd Karl Urban is killing a man. He’s playing William Cooper, a CIA agent tasked to kill Frank. After Frank drops off Sarah at a motel (still kidnapped, remember), he goes to meet Joe Matheson (Morgan Freeman), another retired agent living at a retirement home, with his…

...hobbies. Using his connections, they discover that the hit quad after Frank also killed a reporter. The plot thickens. Sarah escapes, and calls 911, a call which was intercepted by Cooper. A fake cop nearly kidnaps her, but Frank saves her. Cooper catches up, leading to…

OK, yeah, that was a cool shot. Literally. Frank sets up Cooper to get arrested by the local police, and escapes with Sarah to New York City. There, they meet the mother of the NYT reporter killed, and discover clues that lead them to the NYU library, and a book with a hitlist hidden within it. They discover that everyone on the list is dead except for a Gabriel Singer. However, tempered with that, we get some unfortunate news.

Joe’s dead. Which sucks, I honestly liked Joe. He was already dying of liver cancer, but he sadly was assassinated by a mysterious assailant.

Anyway, back to Cooper. He goes to visit the Record Keeper (Ernest Borgnine), who gives Cooper the mostly redacted case file of Frank Moses. An extremely effective black ops agent in his day, the now older Frank’s been marked “RED,” or “retired, extremely dangerous.”

FLORIDA! There, we meet the paranoid and flighty Marvin Boggs (John Malkovich), who lives in the swamps of Pensacola trying not to get killed. He lives underground in a bunker whose entrance is a broken-down car, and I love it a lot. I love it a whole lot.

Turns out Marvin was given doses of LSD every day for 11 years while working for the government, which made him understandably paranoid. My MK Ultra senses are tingling, and Marvin retrieves a file detailing a case in Guatemala from 1981, in which Frank, Marvin, and everybody else on the hit list was involved. And with this, Marvin gets the pig.

I can’t wait to find out what the pig is. Because I know it’s gonna be some crazy weapon. And I’m excited for it. Now, we head to Mobile, Alabama to catch up with Singer (James Remar), the only living person on the list. Marvin then briefly holds a random bystander hostage, and he might be juuuuuuuuust a little unstable.

They meet Singer, and he explains that his job on the Guatemala mission was to carry a passenger in the middle of the night, for unknown reasons. Singer’s quickly assassinated from a helicopter after giving this information, and may I just say...these guys aren’t subtle about their assassination techniques. I feel like somebody would notice this stuff happening, throughout the entire movie.

Anyway, a group of assassins comes in to kill the group of 3. Including this person.

Nice. And as if that wasn’t enough, we now discover the purpose of the pig. It contains a grenade launcher. Of course it does. We get a cool firefight in which Marvin hits a grenade like a baseball, and Marvin and the woman from before face off in a Western standoff. And then…

Yeah. This is awesome. Seriously, I’m loving this so far.

Next destination, as our guys head to the Russian Embassy, where we meet Ivan Simanov (Brian Cox), an ex-KGB agent and former enemy of Frank Moses. The two catch up in a funny exchange, and they reminisce over their old days as agents and assassins. Almost sweet in a macabre way. Frank’s there to ask Ivan for help in breaking into the CIA, using schematics that they probably have.

Using the assistance of Sarah (who’s enjoying this a LOT, apparently), they get into Langley, making this the second movie I’ve seen this month where the protagonist breaks into the CIA. There, they meet the Record Keeper Henry, who immediately helps them, and gives them the Guatemala file. They also find out about Cooper, leading to Frank meeting him at his office, where a kickass fight ensues to some kickass music.

Frank’s not looking stellar after this fight, not that Cooper’s doing great either. They escape by setting up an explosion, stealing a firefighter’s uniform, and escaping to an ambulance There, they’re greeting by Marvin and…

Joe! He escaped, and killed the assassin. Now, it’s Joe, Frank, Marvin, and Sarah on the run in an ambulance. But Frank isn’t doing great, as he was shot in the struggle with Cooper. They head up to Chesapeake, Maryland, to the Eagle’s Nest. It’s there that we meet Victoria Winslow (Helen Mirren), yet one more R.E.D. agent, and a talented assassin as well.

They discover that the file has one redacted name, which is found on the reporter’s list as Alexander Dunning (Richard Dreyfuss), an arms trafficker and gangster, apparently protected by the CIA. Using Joe as a pretend buyer, R.E.D. infiltrates the mansion, as Dunning sneaks Joe into a safe room, where their negotiating can take place. Soon though, though, Frank and Marvin join in, and it turns from negotiation to interrogation.

We find out here that the Guatemala mission was meant to clean up the destruction of a Guatemalan village performed by the current vice president, Robert Stanton. Yikes. Apparently, he went nuts and murdered the entire village. And so, the hits are meant to cover up with war crimes, allowing him to run for President without fear of persecution.

After that reveal, Cooper calls the trio; looks like the mansion’s been surrounded by FBI, who were surveilling Dunning’s mansion anyway. Cooper, who’s been in doubt about the motives of this mission, tells Frank to surrender, and he’ll hear his side of the story. With little option for escape, Joe, who’s dying anyway, volunteers to take his place, as they know he will most likely be killed immediately.

And unfortunately, they’re right. Joe’s shot and killed, and Frank and Marvin escape with Victoria’s help. In the escape, however, Sarah falls and is captured by the agents. They escape with the aid of Ivan.

They need to get Sarah out of Cooper’s custody, while also deciding to end the cause of this: Vice President Stanton. Frank makes it into Cooper’s home, and calls him from there. This, of course, is a threat meant to protect Sarah. He also tells Cooper that he plans to kill the Vice President, who will be at a gala that night.

Vice President Robert Stanton (Julian McMahon) announces his intention to run for President, as Cooper, Victoria, and Ivan watch on. Ivan sprays a gas throughout the ballroom, while Victoria blocks the doors. Ivan causes a distraction, claiming the smell of gas (which he’s caused), then pulls a fire alarm. The Vice President is routed through the back entrance, where Victoria and Marvin are waiting with a machine gun.

They rig it to autofire, and chase the VP back through the building. Victoria’s shot in the process, and Marvin detonates a smoke grenade to aid their escape. He then rigs up a bomb to his chest and chases the VP away, into a vehicle driven by, of course, Frank.

Cooper’s defeated, and Frank has the VP, offering to trade him for Sarah. Cooper calls his boss, all of whom head to the rendezvous point. And alongside Cooper’s boss arrives Alexander Dunning. Surprise! He kills Stanton, and is in command of Cooper’s boss. And Cooper is NOT happy about that.

Cooper kills his boss, Marvin and Victoria kill the bodyguards, and Frank and Marvin kill Dunning. Cooper lets the REDs leave, unencumbered and free. But Ivan reminds Frank of his favor to him, and I smell a sequel as Frank and Sarah kiss.

Whew. That’s R.E.D.! And what a fun ride it was! Might not have come across in this recap, but this movie is hilarious fun, and I’ll explain exactly how in the review section, coming up next!

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 15.13: “Destiny’s Child”

THEN: The pizza man! Megstiel! Oh, lord, I love these two. Ruby 2.0. Lots of pizza for some reason. Jack is soulless. Chuck is destroying his worlds.

NOW: Bunker. The guys are doing research in the library when they hear a weird loud noise. They rush into a room I don’t recognize and find a cute little seafoam green Fiat. With Kansas plates. {Sidebar: I’m thrilled to see Kansas plates. I wish Baby would get replated before the end.} As Savage Garden sings about ch-ch-cherry cola feelings at the base of your spine, two feet (but only one sock) emerge from the Fiat, and those feet are connected to… Sam and Dean! Well, AU versions of them, anyway. As real Sam and Dean watch in horrified confusion, we get glimpses of AU Sam and Dean – an expensive watch, non-flannel clothes, AU Sam’s hair half up. An open rift glows behind them. “Well,” says AU Sam, “we did it.” The AU brothers fistbump (which is smart; you don’t want to shake hands with coronavirus and all) and we see AU Sam is wearing an Apple watch. Which I think the OG Winchesters should wear, considering how often they seem to miss important texts.

All four make eye contact.

Dean? Sam? Sam? Dean? What the hell? What the heck?

The rift flares brighter, AU Dean says “Aw, nuts,” and the AU brothers and their cute little car are sucked back out of our world.

Title card!

Time jump. OG Sam and Dean are telling Cas about their doppelgangers. Dean is particularly disturbed by their car (as am I, because there’s no way those two big guys would be running around in a tiny little Fiat, no matter how fucking cute it is). And all three are just completely confused. Which is odd, considering that they know 1) there are AU versions of themselves in AU worlds, and B) people can move between those worlds. I don’t know why they can’t wrap their heads around AU Winchesters showing up in the bunker.

“How did they get here?” Dean asks. The answer comes from Billie. “They were running. Because God was destroying their reality. He’s almost done wrapping up those other worlds.” And when he finishes his other worlds, he’s coming after the Winchesters. It’s time move on to the next step in Billie’s plan for Jack. Our boy enters on cue, eating a sandwich and announcing he’s ready. Billie explains that the first step (eating angel hearts, ew) was to prepare his body, and the next step is “more spiritual in nature.” He has to find something called the Occultum.

The Occultum? That’s Latin for “hidden.” Where do we find it? I don’t KNOW. It’s HIDDEN.

Hee!

Smart Sam, slightly embarrassed chastised Sam. Love ‘em both.

They don’t really even know what it is, let alone where it is. Or maybe Billie knows what it is, and just isn’t talking. She stresses that since everything will go tits up if God finds out what they’re doing, they need to be ready, and vigilant. “And not stupid.”

Oh, Billie. It’s too late for that.

Research time. Sam’s frustrated, Dean’s distracted. Because he remembered Amara, and he thinks maybe Jack is supposed to kill Amara too. Sam scoffs at that, but Dean reminds us him that the world will be out of balance if Chuck is gone but Amara remains. Sam asks “But then who takes over? Jack?” Jack wanders in, blowing a bubblegum bubble, and proudly announces that he just learned how to do it. “Probably not,” Dean says. Heh. The guys question Jack about how, exactly, he’s going to strike God down, and either he doesn’t know or, again, he’s not talking.

{Sidebar: Neither of them thought anyone needed to take over as God if Chuck was gone. They were, in fact, looking forward to a Godless world. Why, now, does Sam suddenly think someone needs to take over if both Chuck and Amara are gone? Yeah, I know the answer. Bad writing. Thanks, Buckleming!}

They must have brought the Amara situation up for a reason. It’s the kind of monkey wrench that the writers usually ignore if they don’t have a way to address it. What’s going to happen? Here are the possibilities I came up with:

Both Chuck and Amara are killed.

Jack replaces Chuck as God, which means Amara can go on playing keno.

Either Sam or Dean replaces Chuck as God, and Jack or Cas becomes the Darkness. (Neither Sam nor Dean can receive the Mark of Cain again, right? Isn’t that canon? Or is it fanon? And did Sam’s very brief experience with the Mark actually count?)

Jack replaces Chuck as God, and Cas becomes the Darkness. Or vice versa.

Billie pulls a deus ex machina and the whole Chuck/Amara balance thing becomes moot.

The whole Amara situation will never be mentioned again.

Cas wanders in, gathering information from Sergei. Sergei? Again? Will we never be shed of him? Dean agrees with me. “Him? Are we that desperate?” Apparently so. Sergei says the Occultum was housed in a temple until it wasn’t and Dean starts throwing out movie plots to hypothesize what might have happened to it. I’m sure that was amusing to some of you. Anyway, it ended up in the hands of a faith healer with glowy hands. Oh, who could that be? Well, if you didn’t cover the guest star credits, you didn’t see Danneel Ackles. And even if you did, I’m sure you’ve guessed that the faith healer is Sister Jo, who everyone calls Jo rather than using her angel name. Even Cas. I think we should start calling him Jimmy.

Sister Jo’s. She’s wearing some weird combo of satin slipdress/turtleneck/pink blazer. Any one of these items is fine. Together they’re awful. Sam and Dean show up, asking where the Occultum is, and threatening her with angel blades when she refuses to spill the beans. Which doesn’t seem very threatening to me. As an angel, she’s still so much more powerful than they are. (Whatever.)

She says “I gave it to an old friend of yours – Ruby.” And Sam’s first response is “why would you give it to her” instead of “wait, we killed her years before you fell to earth and became a faith healer.” {waves to Buckleming} We get some ridiculous backstory (and again I don’t understand why an angel cares so much about couture brands) about how she was working with Ruby and oh, look, it’s Ruby 2.0! {Sidebar: I covered the credits, as I said, so I didn’t notice that Genevieve Padalecki was not in them. I love the way Show tries to set up a surprise and then their PR department completely spoils it. Because yes, of course I knew Genevieve was coming back. Even the Unsullied couldn’t avoid that spoiler, especially because some people on Tumblr do not use spoiler tags!!! However, I was under the impression she’d be in the final episode, so it was a huge relief to see her in this one. Let’s waste all the nonsense on a Buckleming episode!}

Anyway. According to Jo, Ruby claimed she had a buyer for the Occultum. Jo gave it to her, and then the boys killed her so the deal did not go down. {Sidebar: Once again, Show, flashbacks to older, better episodes are not doing you any favors.} The Occultum is still where Ruby stashed it – in Hell. Dean rolls his eyes, because that’s all Hell is now. It doesn’t inspire terror, just an eyeroll. Hell is basically Walmart. And Dean’s eyeroll is tantamount to me saying “Shit, the only place I can get toilet paper is Walmart? Ugh.” And I hate that, friends. I really, really hate the way Hell has become no more than an unpleasant inconvenience.

Here. Have a palate cleanser.

Bunker. Jack is eating… everything. He and Cas talk about how he’s really into food now, but he doesn’t feel things like he did before he lost his soul. He makes another guilt-free reference about “what happened to Mary,” like he did right before they put him in the box, and wonders if Dean will ever forgive him. {Sidebar: He doesn’t care if Sam forgives him, or he knows Sam has/will? Discuss.} Cas says “You know, Dean, he feels things more acutely than any human I’ve ever known.” Because yes, Dean has to be the absolute bestest at everything, doesn’t he? {Sidebar: How long has it been since someone told Dean he was pretty? What if he forgets???} Anyway, Cas thinks maybe someday Dean will explode and release his Most Acutest Ever feelings and then Jack will be forgiven. (Foreshadowing!)

The guys enter the bunker, discussing Rowena’s spell to get into Hell, and Dean calls Sam “Samwitch.” \o/ Because, as we know, someone over there reads my LJ and/or Tumblr. Um. Does this mean it’s the Buckleming? If so, I’m going to need some time. Cas shows up and looks constipated and says “come with me” and it’s an odd transition because it seemed like they interrupted his talk with Jack, but actually it must be some time later.

Cas takes them back to the mystery room, which I guess was identified as the armory but it looks more like another library to me, and shows them a ghostly AU Sam and Dean. They’re trapped between worlds, apparently. Dean doesn’t care. When Cas assures him they don’t seem to be in pain, he’s ready to move on. I wonder how acutely he feels that.

Sam tells Cas that Ruby stashed the Occultum in Hell and Cas says “Ruby. The demon you were sexually intimate with.” Sam’s all, really, Cas, you’re going there? and it’s another episode of ha ha, funny Cas doesn’t understand human interactions, and then Dean goes all squinty eyed and says ”sexually intimate?” as if this is NEWS TO HIM and WHAT THE FUCKING WHAT, SHOW. This is not news to Dean. Sam told him ALL ABOUT IT in “I Know What You Did Last Summer.” Dean even told him it was “too much information.” Sam told him EVERYTHING. And now we’re supposed to think he didn’t know Sam was banging a demon?

FUCKLEMING!!!!

Anyway. Cas thinks they should get some confirmation from Ruby before going to Hell, but she is inconveniently dead. And also, why would she tell them the truth, considering they’re the reason she’s inconveniently dead. The guys don’t want to wait. They tell Cas to stay in the car right outside the door to Walmart and keep the engine running keep the spell to open Hell going.

Hell. Ugh So cheesy; so much hate. The guys come across a minion who says Rowena is hosting a reception, and he’ll take them to her. But Ruth wasn’t in the credits (for those of you who saw the credits) so obviously this is a trap. Fighty fighty, blah blah blah. Turns out they were set up by Jo. We do get a bit of a post-exertion huff from Sam, so it’s not a total waste.

While this is happening, Cas decides to go to the Empty to question Ruby, because he’s pretty sure Jo isn’t telling the truth. He needs Jack to kill him to the point that he’s only mostly dead. And we’re reminded about his deal with the Empty, so I guess that’s still a thing. Cas gives Jack a flask to hold his life force, and tells him that if this goes badly, Cas will be lost forever. And if Jack doesn’t keep the spell burning, the Winchesters will be stuck in Hell and will be lost forever. Wow, a lot of things could go wrong here. Jack puts a hand on Cas’s forehead and we see Cas’s grace drain into the flask.

Sister Jo’s place. She’s packing up and fleeing.

The Empty. Cas calls for Ruby. “Hello, Clarence,” says a familiar voice. It’s Meg! \o/ Oh, no. It’s just the Empty Guy in Meg form. Dammit. Meg’s got to be in here somewhere, and I’d love to see some Megstiel action one more time before I die. But it is very nice to see Rachel Miner. Empty!Meg calls Ruby out from the darkness. Ruby fondly remembers Sam as “the big lug” and tells Cas a completely different story about her relationship with Jo. {Sidebar: I hate to say this, but Gen doesn’t look so good in this episode, and I also remember her as a better actor.} Ruby tells Cas the Occultum is “a place, a thing, whatever you want to call it.” She’ll tell him where it is if he gets her out of the Empty. He promises to try, and she whispers in his ear.

Back at the bunker, the guys have returned and are horrified to find that Cas is hopefully in the Empty, hopefully finding Ruby, hopefully finding the location of the Occultum, and Sam says “that’s way too many hopefullys!” Hee. They demand that Jack bring him back. In the Empty, Empty!Meg tortures Cas and says Billie promised she could go back to sleep as soon as this is all over, while in the bunker, Jack feeds him his life force.

Resurrected from the nearly-dead, Cas gets called an idiot, because neither of these guys have ever risked their lives to get information (ha ha, sure Dean). He tells the guys he knows where the Occultum is, and they’re ready to go. However, Jack points out that if Chuck notices they’re gone and figures out what they’re doing, it’s game over. True. But that was also true when they went to Hell, and it didn’t seem to be a problem. Anyway, Dean has an idea. He thinks they need a visible presence in the bunker, because this is where Chuck will look.

We don’t know that. We don’t NOT know that.

Hee! Down in the armory, the AU Winchesters are still stuck between worlds. Dean thinks they can open the rift and yank the guys back into this world. Conveniently, since they’re stuck adjacent to this world, Cas’s grace should be plenty. The AU brothers are playing rock-paper-scissors and maybe I’m missing something, but it sure looks like Dean throws scissors and Sam throws rock, which means Sam wins, but Dean acts like he won. Maybe it’s different in AU World. Maybe AU World rocks are very soft.

Sam does the spell, because the one good thing I still get to have is that Sam is in charge of the spellwork. The next thing we see is the OG brothers and the AU brothers at the map table, drinking beer. I’m pretty sure Jared is going to take AU Sam’s purple suit home after they shoot the last episode. The AU brothers are awfully prissy and don’t drink much beer – “Dad won’t keep it in the house. He only likes his private label Scotch. He spoils us.” Damn. They really are prissy. And John is alive, and went through the rift with them, but they don’t know where he is now. Nor do they seem concerned at all, even though they toast him as the “best guy ever.” The AU Winchesters hunt worldwide, and get paid, and have their own plane. The originals explain to the AUs why they need them to act as decoys. OG Sam tells AU Sam that he’ll have to “lose the manbun” and AU Sam recoils in horror and this is NOT WORKING FOR ME. (Also, it’s not technically a manbun, it’s just half up.) I guess some of you loved them, and I’m sure J2 had fun playing them, but I’m just. Bleh. Rich hunters wouldn’t be fussy little twits. Maybe if they were MoL; I can see that. But hunters with money would, IMHO, be like those Duck Dynasty idiots. They’d still be wearing flannel, they’d just drive huge expensive SUVs.

Sam, who are these douches and why are they in our house?

{Sidebar: Why are all the AU Winchesters the same age as our Winchesters? If the other worlds were copies of ours, shouldn’t the AU brothers be younger? Shouldn’t we have Dylan Everett or Colin Ford here?}

Carrying on. The Impala pulls up to a church, and even Jack thinks this is too easy. But then it’s not, because we hear the distinctive growl of hellhounds. Dean gets the door unlocked just in time, and they all rush inside. Sam holds the doors closed as the other three casually wander around the church trying to find the Occultum. Sam is clearly having trouble, but no one comes to his aid. The sky conveniently clears, revealing a moonlit cross on the floor that marks the spot. Dean pulls up a floorboard and reveals a small blue velvet bag {Sidebar: Anyone else have a very similar Crown Royal bag full of cassette tapes in their car back in the 70s/80s? Or was that just me and my lowlife friends?} Inside the bag is an orb inscribed in Enochian: In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you. Sam continues struggling with the door, and the others are all, you held the doors open against Lucifer himself, I’m sure you can handle a couple of silly hellhounds, which is true but still.

Bunker. AU Sam and Dean are cosplaying as our Sam and Dean, but not well. “They said lose the manbun, Samuel,” says AU Dean. “Look, hillbilly clothes are bad enough. I had to draw the line somewhere, and my hair is sacred.” Sam drinks beer with his pinkie extended, and hates it, and I’m sorry. I can’t stand this.

Scenes from the Writers’ Room

You know, last year, Jared got to play a couple of fun AU versions of Sam. I missed out on that.

Okay, but we’ve got you singing this year. And dancing.

Yeah, I know, but I really want to play a different version of Dean, too. I’m gonna be looking for jobs. I need to showcase all my talents.

All right, we can do that.

Also, make sure someone tells Dean he’s pretty.

Anyway. AU Dean is growing to enjoy beer, and he finds porn on Dean’s laptop (leave it to the Buckleming to bring back Busty Asian Beauties, ugh), and he thinks the OG life – nothing but beer, monsters, and porn – might not be so bad after all. AU Sam decides he agrees.

Back at the church, Sam is still the only thing between the rest of TFW 2.0 and grim death. As Cas and Dean squabble over what to do next, Jack figures out the obvious and swallows the Occultum. He collapses and glows and is transported to… Eden! Which has astroturf! And a weird girl who says Eden will change him “if you’re the one meant to find it.” She disappears and a snake appears in the tree. (Hello, Crawly!) “Who are you really?” it hisses. “Who are you meant to be?” Jack has some flashbacks to his best times and worst times and falls to the ground, crying. Then he appears back in the church as a glowing orb which immediately heads straight toward Sam, if you didn’t notice. But I did. Then it floats back to Cas and Dean. Sam collapses and the door opens, but the ball of light disperses the hellhounds and leaves Jack on the floor.

Aftermath! Bunker. Dean is dismissing the AU Winchesters. AU Dean suggests they all live there together, and OG Dean turns them down. He thinks they need to go to Brazil, and refuses their request to keep the flannel shirts. AU Dean tells him they saw the car – and drove it. I wonder when they did that, since the OG Winchesters drove it to the church. Huh. But that’s not what bugs me most about this. What bugs me most is that there’s NO WAY IN HELL (not even new, wimpy Walmart Hell) that Sam and Dean would have let those guys go. Would have turned them loose without any support. No fucking way.

Dean joins Sam, who is standing sadly in the hallway outside Jack’s door. Cas comes out of his room and says Jack is okay, but something is different. They go inside and oh, it’s not Jack’s room, it’s the kitchen. Jack is sitting at the table, crying. He apologizes for not understanding that killing Mary was his fault and begs for forgiveness. Looks like someone has been resouled. And – scene!

So. I didn’t really care for this one. In fact, it kind of made me lose hope for the rest of the season. And maybe the will to live. But I’m not going to dwell on that. I’m going to dwell on this: We don’t need any more side characters, even if they’re Sam and Dean.

Scenes From the Writers’ Room

Okay, who else can we bring back?

What about Ruby? I know a lot of fans would like to see some closure for her story.

I thought she had closure? When they killed her?

{laughter}

Good one. Yeah, let’s bring her back and wrap her story up. And we’ll give Cas and Jack some time too.

But we’ve gotta use the guys at some point. People are gonna complain.

I’ve got an idea – what if we have Jared and Jensen play two different people, rather than Sam and Dean?

You, my friend, are a fucking genius!

But if we had to get two AU Winchesters, couldn’t it have been the ones from Sam’s nightmares? Wouldn’t Boy!King Sam or MoC Dean have been awesome? And what if, after the AU Winchesters tumbled into the bunker, AU Sam quietly pulled OG Sam aside.

I need to talk to you. Alone. What is it? Do you have a secure room? Someplace we can ward? Why? Um… I’m not sure how to explain… Do you have Cain and Abel in your world? {Sam visibly blanches} We’ve got a dungeon. Come help me set it up. Now.

Wouldn’t that have been better than this crap? Or what about Samifer? Wouldn’t Sam and Dean’s reactions to Samifer have been magnificent? (Yeah, I know. We didn’t need a whole Plot. We just needed a small Device.)

And it turns out they’re not airing any more new episodes until… who knows when. Which means we’re stuck with this one. If I die and the last new episode of Supernatural I ever get to see is a fucking Buckleming episode, I’m going to be so pissed. I will come back and I will be haunting some asses. Enough whining. What did you think? And please help me stay unspoiled; thanks!

[just-another-busy-fangirl-writes]

June 21, 2019

Feel free to tag me in ANY fics you post, and see previous weeks’ fic recs HERE

SMUT

Limits by @bamby0304    A rough hunt leads to some rough sex. But when Dean gets a little too lost in the moment, things get a little too much for you.

Full Frontal by @ellekess (on AO3)    Chucks knows all about the Winchesters. All about them. It makes things very, very awkward when he meets them.

Sharpshooter by @fangirlingtodeath513 (on AO3)    Dean Winchester is the biggest Twitch streamer in the world. He's amassed a following playing games like Overwatch and Fornite and is grateful every day that he gets to make a living playing his favorite video games. Castiel Novak is a college graduate working at his cousin's coffee shop and bakery. He's working with his best friend at a job he enjoys and seeing Dean every morning is the highlight of his day. The two of them hit it off quickly and their budding friendship leads to the best date of their lives. Will a misunderstanding ruin their brand new relationship, or can they weather the storm?

Break Me Down by @ladyofthursday (on AO3)    Dean's not quite sure why he's spending his Friday night at the cheapest strip club in town, when all he wants to do is get wasted and forget about his troubles. But things take an upturn when Angel takes to the stage - he's got a body to die for, a super sexy routine and he's got his eyes on Dean...

Steel and Whiskey by @saltnhalo (on AO3)    When Castiel agrees to meet with the leader of the Winchester pack in the heart of his territory, he does not find the alpha he’s expecting. Instead, he meets an omega in Dean Winchester’s apartment with stunning green eyes and an alluring air of danger. Someone should have warned Castiel that the Winchester leader is not an alpha.

Freak Storm by @squirrel-moose-winchester    Jensen and Jared find themselves somewhere unknown yet very familiar. 

FLUFF

[Untitled Sastiel HS Reunion AU] by @jupiterjames    Even though Castiel is a famous actor, he still decides to go to his 20th high school reunion.

ANGST

Disappear in the Trees by @wildsofourhearts (on AO3)    In a library that once entered, can't be exited, Castiel, against his will, works as the lone librarian, doing his best to make the people who wander inside comfortable in their final moments. Forced to weave human lives into storybooks for the library to devour, he hasn't seen the outside world in decades. Enter Dean Winchester. Can the chains of the library hold Castiel with another, more profound, bond forming between he and Dean?

SERIES

Satin and Sawdust by @ltleflrt (on AO3)    When Castiel moves out of Jimmy's house and into his own place for the first time, he saves money on buying a home by investing in a Fixer-Upper. He knows nothing about how to fix the many problems the house has, but he figures he's smart enough to figure it out. Unfortunately it's not too long before he learns that he's way in over his head. Thankfully his new neighbor Dean is a handyman, and agrees to help him out. He knows Dean has a bit of a crush on him, but he's not taking advantage of it, really. Dean's a great guy, and quickly becomes a good friend. But a flash of satin under Dean's toolbelt changes everything.

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (on AO3)    It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

Pick it All Up ‘Verse by @scarlettofletters (on AO3)    Army veteran Castiel Novak is a wreck after his tour in Afghanistan, brought home to his brother's apartment in Lawrence, Kansas with scars both mental and physical. He copes poorly, and during one night of bad decision making, meets somebody just as much of a disaster as he is -- a prostitute named Dean Winchester. And suddenly, two damaged men might not be as irreparable as they believed.

[squirrelnotsam]

Ghost Rider

Ship: Reader X OMC; Reader X Dean?

Characters: Reader, William (OMC), Dean, Baby

Warnings: I don’t know TV show violence, cheating, let me know if I forget something

Summary: Your boyfriend, trying to get into your pants, buys you a ‘67 Chevy Impala. Little did he know the past owner; Dean Winchester’s soul is attached to it.

Word Count: Approximately 3,290

Created for @sdavid09 #Tale Teller’s Plot Bunny Challenge 2019

A/N: I have this recurring dream of Dean’s ghost leaning against Baby just waiting for me. When I read the plot bunny, I just had to use it. As I was writing this piece, I realized all the different possibilities the story could have gone in. I am not happy with the ending it’s not the one I envisioned for this piece. I am making do due to time constraints. I would appreciate any kind of feedback both positive and negative.

Image lifted from Super-Wiki

𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲

Chuck Shurley once said, “This 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car…no, the most important object in pretty much the whole universe.” That is why it is such a shame to find it on a used car lot in Phoenix, Arizona.  William crawled around under the Impala, checking hoses and clamps. He opened the hood and checked the fluids. The engine compartment appeared clean. “How many owners did it have?”

“Two has far as we can tell,” the salesman replied, “originally from Kansas.” He shoved his hands into his plaid trousers and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“It looks clean, but the mileage is high. How much were you asking for this again?”

“Fifteen thousand. It’s a classic. Don’t find to many like this anymore.”

William ran his hand over his buzz cut hair. “I don’t know man. It’s more than what I wanted to spend on the little lady. Would you take ten for it?”

“Let me run it by my manager and see what he thinks,” the salesman ran into the trailer that was being used as an office leaving William out by the car.

He hoped she would put out after all the money he was spending on her. So far, she was nothing but a wet blanket. He wined and dined her. Bought her clothes and jewelry but still she kept blocking his advances.

Buzz, Buzz the sound pulled him from his thoughts. Buzz, buzz he pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. Abitch displayed on the screen. If it wasn’t the little lady. The salesman came out of the office waving him over just as he was going to accept the call. Instead he swiped decline sending her to voicemail. William slipped the phone back into his pocket and ran up to the salesman.

“I can go as low as thirteen. Just need you to fill out some paperwork and we will get you on your way and to show there’s no hard feelings I’m throwing in a few coupons for a free steak dinner.” William shook his hand and followed him into the trailer.

They sat down at a small table with a laptop on it. “Just need a copy of your driver’s license.” William pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. Opened it and slid his driver’s license over to the salesman. The lights started flickering, “that’s been happening a lot lately,” the salesman smirked, “hope the power doesn’t go out before we finish the paperwork.”

𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲

Y/N heard a rumble coming down the road. When it stopped in front of her house, she looked out the window and saw a gorgeous black car. She let out a groan when William stepped out of the vehicle. He was starting to get on her nerves. She had tried calling him earlier to cancel their date tonight, but he never returned her call. After the crappy day she had she didn’t want to put up with his unwanted advances. She was seriously considering breaking up with him, but her parents had their entire retirement riding on the business deal with his parents. If she broke up with him now the deal falls through and their retirement is gone.

The doorbell chimed as she was trudging down the stairs. She plastered on a fake smile before opening the door. “William, so nice to see you.”

He looked her up and down, then frowned. “You’re not ready.”

“You didn’t return my call earlier today. I’m really not feeling that well.”

“I got stuck in a meeting. We can always stay in tonight. Cuddle up with some movies.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the suggestion.

She looked around him to the driveway. “Did you get a new car?” Her eyes going wide.

“You want to go for a ride?”

“Give me a minute,” she said aloud. What are you doing Y/N thought to herself? You were just trying to cancel a date with the sleaze ball and now you’re going for a ride with him. Remember your parents. “It’s all about the parents.”

“What was that?”

Oops that wasn’t supposed to be said aloud. She was having problems keeping thoughts in her head tonight. “How are your parents?” She quickly covered as she finished slipping her shoes on and grabbed her wallet and keys.

“They’re doing good. There is some charity event coming up. They would like us to attend,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes as she locked the door. Y/N turned around and walked over to the car. She ran her finger across the hood and along the side following the contour of the automobile. “Hello, baby.”

William looked at her from across the top of the car. “Did you just call her baby?”

“Yeah, that’s her name.” She shrugged

“You name your cars?” He gave an incredulous expression. Y/N open the passenger side door and sat down on the bench seat. She rubbed her hand across the worn leather and caressed the dash.

“Doesn’t everyone? Who wouldn’t name their trusty steed?”

“You know it’s a car not living thing?” He scoffed. Starting the car up the engine roared to life. The vibration of the engine sending waves of pleasure through Y/N’s bones.

Y/N reached over and turned on the radio AC/DC’s Back In Black playing through the speakers. She starts headbanging to the beat of the song fingers tapping out the rhythm as she sings along. “You like this crap?” He questions as he changes the station.

“Let me guess you like Jazz music?” She looks over at him. His eyes stay on the road.

“Actually, I prefer Hip Hop.” The radio starts changing again and stops on Highway to Hell.

“Y/N would you please stop that,” he said irritated.

“That wasn’t me.”

“My hands are on the steering wheel and the only person in the car is you.” Y/N shivered. She turned on the heater. “What did you do that for?”

“It’s cold in here,” She said rubbing her arms.

The lights started flickering on and off in the car. “What the hell? I can’t believe that sleaze ball would sell me this piece of crap.” The car stalled in the middle of the road. William started banging on the steering wheel. Y/N opened the door. “Where are you going?” He growled.

She got out of the car and opened the hood. She started wiggling the wires around on the battery terminal. It all looked good. “You know I checked all of that before I bought the dumb thing,” he said. “There was a store a couple of miles back. I’m going to see if I can get some help.”

“Yeah you do that,” Y/N mumbled. Something was off and she was bound and determined to figure it out. “I haven’t spent most of my life learning about cars just to be stuck on the side of the road.” She opened the trunk up to see if there were any tools she could use.

She wasn’t expecting to find anything useful and was shocked to find a false bottom. When she lifted it up it was full of weapons. She began to wonder about William and if he was really a mass murderer. She was so lost in thought she never heard the footsteps coming up behind her.

“Where’s Winchester?” A voice snarled. Y/N turned around at the voice. A willowy man approached her.

“Who?” She questioned. Everything within her was telling her to run away.

“Dean Winchester, that’s his car.” He kept approaching her.

She looked confused. “Who is Dean Winchester?” She gulped as he stopped inches from her.

“Oh, this is sweet.” He ran his finger down her cheek. “You’re driving his car and you don’t know who he is?” He sneered at her. His gaze vacant and dead. Her eyes darted around looking for a way out of the situation. The air around her cooled. “Don’t even think about running, hun.” There’s nowhere to go and there are more creatures like me out in the woods.”

“Cr-crea-creatures like you?”

“I was just going to end this quickly, but perhaps I’ll keep you around. You’re fun to play with.” This time when he smiled, she could see his fangs. The vampire went flying against a nearby tree as Y/N’s body shuddered.

She doesn’t know how it happened, she couldn’t control her body. It was moving on its own. She grabbed a machete out of the trunk then stomped over to the vampire slicing his head off. She poured gasoline on his body and lit a match. “Adios bitch,” her voice was deep and gravely.

She put everything back in the trunk of the Impala got in the driver's seat and drove off into the night. She drove for sixteen hours straight and didn’t stop until she got to Lebanon, KS. She pulled up to a large building, its entrance was rather small and nondescript. It was located near the road but was almost below ground level. She opened the door and entered the room standing on a balcony.

Y/N was blown away by what she saw. There was a room filled with old electronic equipment. A table with the map of the world on it that glowed. The room adjacent to all the computer equipment contained a library and was decorated in lavish style. The walls were covered with bookcases and filing cabinets. At the end was a very large telescope. The central area featured a long wooden table and much of the furniture and decor were from decades past. She sat down in a comfortable looking chair and fell asleep.

“What happened?” Y/N groaned as she woke up. “And where the hell am I?” She looked around at her surroundings. The lights flickered and the air in the room chilled.

“Sorry about that,” a gravelly voice said. She looked to the source of the sound and saw a tall bow-legged man materialize out of thin air.

“What the…,” she said as her eyes grew wide. “Please don’t hurt me!” She yelled.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said raising his hands up in a placating gesture.

“You’re...you’re...you’re a gho...ghost,” she stuttered.

“Yeah, I wish you didn’t have to find out like this.” His face looked sad. “But all the things that go bump in the night. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, they’re all real.”

“Werewolves? Is that what...”

“No that was a vampire. My name’s Dean by the way.” He placed his hands in his pockets.

“Hi, Dean, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” She stuck her hand out to shake his hand. He grinned and shook his head to indicate no.

“I’ve used too much energy as it is now. If I tried to shake your hand I would just phase through.”

“Oh,” she replied. “No offense but where am I?” She glanced around the room.

Dean got a gleam in his eye. “I like to call it the Batcave, but really it’s a Men of Letters bunker. The safest place in the world.”

“The men of who?”

“Men of letters. It’s Illuminati for the supernatural. I want to show you something.” Dean flickered.

Y/N stood up and followed him down a hallway he stopped in front of a door with an Aquarian star with the number 11 in the middle of it. “It should be in here,” he said. Dean phased through the door. She turned the doorknob and entered the room.

There was a bed along with a desk and reading light, against it was a photograph of a blonde-haired woman. The room was decorated with guns and weapons. On the back wall hung an axe like weapon with a bone handle fastened to a long obsidian blade with a piece of leather. “Wow,” she said.

“In the desk drawer is my journal.” She could now see through Dean. He was fading fast. “It should answer…” He was gone.

“What have I gotten myself into?” she mumbled aloud. She went over to the desk and opened the drawer. Inside she found a leather-bound journal. Sitting on the bed she flipped through the pages she realized it was all about different types of monsters and how to kill them. Before Y/N realized it, she was fast asleep on the memory foam mattress.

The sound of the Imperial March from Star Wars woke her up. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with the palm of her hands and pulled her cell phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen. She missed a call from William and just like always he didn’t bother to leave her a message. Y/N rummaged around in the dresser and found a pair of sweats and an AC/DC tee-shirt that she changed into.

Feeling a little more presentable she found her way to the kitchen and surprisingly it was stalked with canned and dry goods. She placed some coffee grounds into the coffee maker added some water and flipped the switch to on. Coldness wrapped around her.

“You look good in my clothes.” The whisper in her ear sent a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes wishing she could see the handsome ghost with the pretty green eyes again. “Did you read the journal?” She heard.

Y/N turned around and slowly opened her eyes. Dean stood in front of her she noticed the freckles on his face. “I did,” she replied.

“So, you sacrifice yourself to save the world, thank you by the way. What happened to your brother?”

“Sam? I’m not sure. Thought he would be here.” The Imperial March started playing again. Y/N rolled her eyes and declined the call. “Shouldn’t you answer that?”

“He can’t bother to answer my calls I’m not going to answer his.”

“Won’t he worry about you?” Dean asked concerned.

“I figure it’s been roughly three days since the night with the vampire.”

“About that yeah,” Dean agreed.

“And he is just now calling me after leaving me stranded on the side of the road. What the hell kind of douche is that?”

“You can do so much better than him.” Dean smirked.

“Tell that to my parents. They’re the reason I’m with him to begin with. Some sort of business arrangement with his parents.”

“We should get you back to Phoenix, sweetheart. To your family and friends.” He pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. She sighed at the gesture. We can stop at a diner in town for some food.” He tossed her the keys to the car. “You can drive. Don’t scratch my baby.”

“So, I was right, about her name.”

𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲

It was late as Y/N passed the welcome to Phoenix sign. The windows were rolled down and the radio turned up loud. Dean kept her company on the trip sharing stories and singing aloud to classic music on the radio. She turned down the radio as she turned down the residential street and pulled up to William’s house. She turned off the car and faced Dean. “It was a pleasure meeting you Dean. Will we see each other again?”

“I’m attached to the car. I have to go where the car goes?”

“And the car belongs to William,” she sighed. Dean leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. She could feel the coldness of him along with something tingly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay Dean. I wanted it also. I really should go and return the keys to him.”

Y/N walked up to the door. Her mouth went dry, so she licked her lips and swallowed down a gulp of air. She knocked on the door.

“Y/N/N, sweetheart,” she could hear Dean’s voice in her ear, “you should really just take the car and leave.”

“What’s going on Dean?”

“Trust me, the guy's a douche.” She rang the doorbell then knocked on the door as loud as she could.

“William!” She frantically kept pounding on the door. “Answer the door!” She rang the doorbell a few more times for good measure.

“Who’s trying to break down the door?” She heard a female voice say.

“William are you in there?” Y/N said. She heard a click as a lock was undone and a tall, thin woman with blonde hair appeared as the door cracked open.

“What do you want?” She was wearing a button-down shirt that barely covered her ass. Her legs were bare and no underwear on. Y/N took in her appearance and the disheveled look of her hair.

“I want to talk to my boyfriend,” Y/N said pushing the door open and walking into the house. “Where is the bastard?” She walked past the woman to the master bedroom. “What the hell she yelled?”

“Y/N what are you doing here?” William looked at you, confusion on his face. “Thank goodness you’re okay. I’ve been worried about you.”

“I can see that,” Y/N said. “How long have you been fucking her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking.”

“The blonde slut that answered the door.”

“Oh, that,” William replied.

“I’m not a slut,” the other woman said.

“Can it!” Y/N glared at her. “You might as well go home nothing here for you anymore.”

“This is my home,” she mumbled.

“What did you say? Oh, that is just...Ugh! I just can’t right now.” The lights flickered. A small smile spread across Y/N face as she thought about Dean. “You know what you can keep the no-good low life son of a bitch. Slick Willie just answer this one question, did you even bother to go back for me, or did you leave me for dead?”

“I had to get it from somewhere. You weren’t putting out frozen queen that you are.” Willie snarled.

“I only came by to return your car, but I think I’ve changed my mind.” She twirled the keys around her finger listening to them jingle.

“You go ahead and keep that piece of shit.” The lights flickered again. This time she could smell leather, gunpowder, and mint in the room.

“I know Dean. You know you really shouldn’t talk about Baby like that,” Y/N said.

“Who the hell is Dean? There is no one else here except for us three.” Y/N glanced at the blonde and shrugged.

“He’s the former owner of the car that’s going to haunt your ass if you don’t behave.”

Willie rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You know there is no such things as ghosts, right? You have definitely lost your damn mind.”

“Boo!” Dean said as he flickered next to Willie. Willie jumped and the blonde’s eyes got wide with fright and she ran out of the room crying.

“I don’t even want to know how you pulled that trick but keep the car. You’ll be crawling back before too long.” Y/N turned and left the room.

She saw the blonde in the living room sitting on the couch. “Sorry I scared you. Won’t happen again,” Y/N said as she walked out the door slamming it shut behind her. She got into the Impala and drove away into the night blaring AC/DC’s Shoot To Thrill.

𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲 𝒲

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[huntertales]

Part One: It’s Called Nesting, Like Pregnant Women. (Trial and Error S08E14)

Episode Summary: After months of work, Kevin deciphers the demon tablet on how to close the gates of Hell. Sam, Dean and the reader learn in order to do so one must face three series of trails designed by God. The first one—kill a hound of Hell. Sam and Dean argue on who is to complete the trials. The reader wants in, too. Despite her vulnerable condition. When Sam learns about her desire, he gives her an ultimatum: stay out of the way. Or he’ll come clean to his brother about their shared secret. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader. Word Count: 9,087.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You didn't know the last time you went home, the place where you spent twenty years trying to make it something that it never really was, from a life that was long gone. You knew well enough this chapter of your life, living in Suburbia and with your only interaction with monster by researching them, was over. And you were okay with that. Before you let go for good you at least wanted to have a chance to have one last proper goodbye and scavenge through your belongings that were worth holding onto. You and Dean decided to head up and see what you wanted to take back and leave behind. The bunker was your home now. And did it feel good whenever you thought about it.

Most of the things you had an easy time of letting go was stuff like furniture you didn't really care for in the first place and clothes that you had long forgotten about and other articles that weren’t in fashion anymore. You wanted to get to the important things like the few pictures that you had of your family, books that were too valuable to leave behind and a few other things you knew would be heartbroken to part with. Somehow you managed to convince Dean into lugging out two very heavy boxes of books that were part lore you bought for when your sole job was research, thinking it might go well with the Men of Letters library. Along with a few collectibles your bookworm heart couldn't leave without.

You and him went through nearly all of your belongings, marking what was to be donated after you hired some movers to clear your things out and others that could be thrown out. Dean didn't complain about how much you were making him work. He seemed to have enjoyed the normal task. For the few days you spent together with him there was a change you never really seen in him before. He came across more...relaxed. Happy.

The both of you also spent the time enjoying one another's company the way you had felt newlyweds did. You were drunk on love and the future that you fooled yourself into believing for a while was going to end up fine. The two of you shamelessly said "I love you" more than you normally did. You shared long and romantic kisses that were split up between pecs here and there while you worked. The feeling was something that you never wanted to end, this positivity that felt refreshing.

Seeing Dean in such a good mood made you want to talk about the future of the family with him. About how it could turn into just the Winchesters if the both of you finally decided to tie the knot once and for all. And how it was going to grow from three people into four in the next handful of months. Right when the words were on the tip of your tongue...you pulled yourself back to the beginning. You didn't want to sabotage this moment you knew you were never going to get again. So you decided to wait. Again.

While you were in town delaying the inevitable news and cleaning out your house that you were still debating about putting up for sale, you knew there was one face you hadn't seen in person since coming back into your own state of mind. You had phone calls and video chats with Josh to keep in touch. But you hadn't seen him in person since he and the boys worked together in rescuing you from Crowley and your demon side. Luckily she was long gone. Along with your old neighbors that were Josh’s grandparents who passed away a short while after he thought you did as well.

When you contacted Josh to tell him you were in the neighborhood, he didn't waste a second heading over to see you again when he got a free moment. You knew you were going to be over the moon to see the familiar tall and lean figure when you answered the door after he knocked. The same rhythm like he used to when you were teenagers. Maybe it was your changing hormones or the happiness at seeing your best friend that made a few tears slip out.

The both of you embraced one another into a tight hug, squeezing him as if he was going to disappear again. Josh was different from the boys or any other friend you ever had. All though you were letting go from this part of your life, Josh had been dragged through this lifestyle without a choice, and he had been there for you through every step without hesitate

"Please tell me they're happy tears. I don't want to give the wrong impression. I mean, I would like to think Dean and I left on good terms." Josh was trying his hardest to be funny so he could lighten up the mood. All though you swore you could hear a hint of seriousness in his voice when he looked around for the man after you invited him inside. “Where is that guy, anyway?"

"He's upstairs packing up a few more things. We're hitting the road tonight, but I wanted to see you before we went." You said. You took a moment to see that your friend looked different from the last time you saw him from his new haircut to the clothes he wore. When you found yourself staring at him, you gave him another smile. “It's good to see you, Josh. I'm sorry that it's been a while since we’ve seen each other face to face.”

"Hey, don't worry about it. I know your life has been upside down and sideways. The fact that you still want me around is all that matters to me." Josh said. You gave him a bit of a funny expression, knowing there was nothing he did in the past that you hadn't done yourself before. It was Josh's turn to fall into a pause of silence when he got a good look at you to see how time treated you. "You look great, Y/N. Time off was the way to go."

"Thank you. But, to be fair, the last time you really saw me was when I was beaten within an inch of my life and had blood all over me. Not to mention I was missing a few things." You cracked a joke when you lifted your left arm and wiggled your ring finger. Josh noticed the faint surgical scar down your forearm as well, remembering you had also suffered a broken arm from that awful night. "I think anything from that is considered an improvement."

Josh gave you a playful dirty look from how you easily dismissed his compliment. "I'm serious. Something's different about you. But I can't put my finger on it..."

"Well, since I never see you, I guess it's better to tell you than for you to find out the hard way. Come here." You dropped your voice to a whisper as you moved to the kitchen so you were away from the staircase, just in case Dean overheard your conversation you didn’t even have with him yet. Josh's expression fell into nervousness from the way you were acting, making him wonder what you were about to tell him was bad news. "Relax. It's nothing serious. Well, it is. But nobody's dead. It's sort of the reason why I'm moving and going back to Kansas."

“What? Are you pregnant or something?” Josh’s guess was meant to be a joke, something he thought you would have brushed off with a scoff and an eye roll at his presumption. But that wasn’t the reaction he got. You stared at him with almost a stunned expression, as if he figured out what you were about tell him. The man found himself suddenly thrown through a loop. "Wait. I was kidding. I mean...Oh my God. You are, aren't you? You're really pregna—"

"Shut up!" You hissed at him, suddenly feeling yourself becoming overwhelmed with anger at how loud he was being. You whacked him on his shoulder to get him to be quiet as you quickly looked over to the staircase. Dean was nowhere to be seen. You let out a sigh of relief and looked back at your friend. Josh was staring at you, the ends of his lips stretching into a smile, eagerly waiting for confirmation that he was right. You rolled your eyes, and slowly nodding your head. "Yes...I'm pregnant."

You knew what you were doing, telling your secret to someone else that played a very important role in the process of how you got here, was very much wrong. But here you were again. Telling yet another person that wasn’t the father you were pregnant. The reason why you wanted to tell Josh was because you rarely got to see him. And you had a feeling the next time you might see him you would either be very much further along, or the baby would be learning how to walk. Josh seemed over the moon at what he was hearing, making you smile, the guilt weighing on your chest lifted itself for just a bit. "Let me take a look at you." Josh said. You weren't exactly showing just yet from how early you were still in your pregnancy, but there was a bump just big enough to make it seem like you were gaining a few extra pounds around your stomach area. "How far along are you?" “About fourteen weeks.” You said. You rested a hand against your stomach and stared down at the little creature that was supposed to be no bigger than a lemon from the app you downloaded to keep track of your progress. A smile crept at the ends of your lips. “This thing was a bit of a surprise. But a very good one." “Aren’t all surprises good? Well...in your case, not always. All though there is such thing as karma. And it’s about time you and Dean had yours. I’m so happy for you.” Josh found himself rambling on slightly before he caught himself, making you chuckle quietly from how he could be. He couldn’t help himself when he embraced you into another tight hug, the both of you staying there for a moment, celebrating this announcement the way it should be. “I bet Dean is over the moon about being a dad.”

You felt your smile beginning to fade at the mention of something Josh had presumed,   baby's father right away. Maybe a little while after getting confirmation they were in fact carrying. But not you. You always had to make things more complicated than it should. "Yeah. About that...I may or may not have told him yet."

"Wait, wait." Josh chuckled to himself, thinking what came out of your mouth was very much a joke. But the now serious expression on your face told him you weren't. You were very much telling the truth. "What? How—Why? Does anyone else know? Please don't tell me I'm the first one you're telling. It took me forever for Dean to like me.”

"Remember in 'Friends' where Rachel got pregnant and everyone found out except for Ross? Well, that's kind of my situation. Everyone knows...except Dean." You explained to him in the best way you could. But it only ended with Josh staring at you with even more of a bewildered look. "Okay. Here's how it went..."

You told Josh about everything from the very beginning of how you found you were pregnant; it started with the morning sickness and other symptoms that felt out of place. Crowley calling you “Queen” when your nickname had always been Kitten that got the ball rolling on this entire situation. It was Cas who broke the news to you that you were in fact carrying, and Sam finding out after he grew suspicious of your odd behavior that you tried denying. Only coming clean soon after when he wanted to leave to go with Amelia. And while you had every chance to tell Dean about the fact he was going to be a father, you chickened out. Every. Single. Time. Everyone knew that you were pregnant, except for the father. Josh might not have known Dean all that well, but he knew enough that he loved you no matter what. If you were happy about becoming a mother, in time, Dean would grow to be excited. It was just the matter of telling him. "Hey, babe. Do you know where the tape—Oh. Hey, man." Dean came downstairs without making a single sound, taking you by surprise. He spotted Josh and, for the first time you felt since meeting him, he greeted the man with a friendly smile and shook his hand. "Good to see you. Y/N told me you were gonna be here.”

“Yeah. I was in the neighborhood. Thought I would swing by.” Josh replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Y/N was telling me about what you guys have been up to. Sounds like you landed a pretty cool place to live in.” “Cool doesn’t even describe this place. You need to see it for yourself. I’m sure you and Sammy would geek over the library they have.” Dean said. You saw a smile spread across the older Winchester’s lips when he talked about the bunker, his entire face seemed to have lit up. You found the heavy duty tape he was looking for and handed it off to him. He gave you a smile and gave you yet another quick kiss on the lips, mumbling a thank you. "Hey, since you're here, mind helping me bring a few boxes to the car?"

Josh was more than happy to agree. You watched as the both of them headed upstairs to get the remaining things that you were going to keep. You found yourself standing in the middle of the kitchen for a long minute, suddenly pondering on the fact that you were really moving on. No more house to have as a safety net. No more old life you had to hold onto. You let out a sigh, reaching for the locket that was once your mother’s that you wore every day. “I know you wanted me to stay here and have a normal life. I know you wanted me to be safe, too. And I will...just not here, Mom. There’s too many bad memories. But don’t worry. I found something better. We'll be closer to Dad, too." You talked to the ghost that died here in this very house that haunted you for years at the hands of a demon who took away someone you loved. Who made your life hell. But he didn't destroy it. You let out a sigh and pressed a hand against your small baby bump when you heard footsteps making their way down the stairs. "Let's go, kiddo. To our new home."

+ + +

Dean had to be a little bit honest with himself, the idea of not sharing a room together with his girlfriend like a normal couple seemed like a bit of a downer. He liked falling asleep next to you with your body pressed against his, the reassurance of knowing you would be there tomorrow morning to greet him. And he liked the little things you did that he grown to think of little quirks. But he was starting to warm up to the idea of having a bedroom to call his own because it meant he it was his. 

He could decorate it however he wanted, rearrange the furniture to his liking. There was a space in this bunker where he could call his own. All of you were together under the same roof for the first time ever, and yet, you had your private space when you needed to be alone. Like a proper family. But you and Dean still bunked together every single night. Since being here for the past few weeks a little game came out of it. Stay in his room because it was closer and you fell asleep while watching movies. Dean sneaking into yours when you texted him early into the evening wanting some "alone time" after you were supposed to have retired to bed early. It wasn't what Dean imagined, but this version was a lot more fun for him.

“Well, well. Look at this place.” Your voice came from behind, making Dean look over his shoulder to see you were standing in the doorway of his bedroom, taking a look at what he accomplished since last night when the both of you got back. You examined the array of weapons he used as decorations on the walls and other sort of things he must have went out and gotten himself. You stepped inside, going for his record collection that had been collecting dust in your basement years. A few of them looked brand new, which meant he must have went out and did himself a little shopping while you were unboxing everything you had brought back.

Dean was almost done decorating his room, there was just one more thing he needed to do to make it feel perfect. He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket of his jeans to take out a small piece of paper that fit perfectly inside. You wondered for a moment what it was until you saw him place it underneath the desk lamp. It was a photograph of him when he was just four years old with his mother, Mary. One of the only pictures he had of his late mother he could cherish.

You felt your lips stretch into a small smile at the sight of Dean as a little boy, knowing you had almost no pictures of him in his childhood years. He was an adorable child that grew up to a handsome man. You felt your smile growing just a little bit bigger when you saw him place another picture down next to the one of him and Mary. It was the one of you and Dean that was taken right when the both of you just started dating. While you were pissed off when you saw the flash go off, there was no denying the love captured in the moment between the both of you.

"There. Now I will always have the two most important women in my life together.” Dean said. You knew seeing him take out and place one of his most prized possessions was a sign that he was officially comfortable settling down here. "What do you think? Not bad, huh?”

"I think...I like this side of you." You admitted to him. You walked over to him and nestled yourself into the crook of his side, resting your head on his chest and looked at the pictures for a moment. Dean draped an arm around your waist to push your body closer to his. "I would have never pegged you as the domestic and homey type. You know, it's kind of a sexy look on you."

"Really, now? Well I'm about to become irresistible. You can watch me make some lunch. And who knows," Dean wiggled his brow as he gave you a mischievous look you knew all too well. And what he meant by it. "Maybe we can have a little fun—"

Right before you and Dean could finish your little fantasy of spending more alone time together, the moment you were having at the moment was stopped when you heard someone clearing their throat loudly, announcing their presence. Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance as you looked over to see it was Sam who was leaning against the door frame with a slight smirk on his face, catching the both of you. Sam moved his gaze around the room to see the decorating his brother had done to the bedroom. He had to admit it looked pretty decent. And very much Dean.

"Wow." Sam muttered, sounding rather impressed. "Not bad."

"'Not bad'? I haven't had my own room—ever. I'm making this awesome. I got my kick ass vinyl, I've got this killer mattress." Dean took a personal offense at his little brother's compliment that did little justice for the hard work he put in. He sat down on the edge on his bed, and the smile that broke out on his face made you chuckle at how adorable he was. "Memory foam—it remembers me. And it's clean, too. There's no funky smells. There's no creepy motel stains."

Sam raised his brow slightly, half-listening to what his brother was going on about as he took a piece of gum out from his jacket pocket and popped it in is mouth. He tried tossing the small crumpled up foil wrapper into the trash that was across the room, but he missed, hitting the rim and watched as it fell to the ground. He shrugged it off, presuming his brother wouldn't notice. But Dean did. And the pissed off look on his face made it clear he wasn't too happy.

"Samuel. You heard what your brother said. This room is clean. Pick it up." You pretended to sound like a strict mother, pointing to the small crumbled up wrapper on the ground. Sam threw his hands up in defeat and walked to the garbage to properly clean up after himself. "Not like it's gonna stay like this for very long."

Dean gave the both of you an annoyed look from how your sarcasm caused his brother to smile ever so slightly in amusement. "I'm gonna go make some grub."

You followed behind the man a second later, leaving Sam alone to inspect his brother's room with a little more detail. There was all sorts of weapons decorated on the walls that somehow seemed to complement the fifties style furniture that was left behind in the bunker. His brother wasn't the type of person who knew how to settle down and make himself comfortable, but he was always a fast adapter. Sam looked down at the desk, spotting a manual typewriter and dusty office supplies, along with a wallet size photograph of their mother. A smile crept on the ends of his lips when he noticed the photo was accompanied by a picture he'd taken himself, that was followed by an earful from the happy looking couple.

It might not be a traditional home with a backyard for a child to run around in, there wasn't even windows to look at their surroundings, but it was better than anything he could want. It was perfect to settle down to raise the future Winchester/Y/L/N generation that would be here in the matter of months. It was safe and a perfect hideout for hunters to rest their heads. And most importantly, it was yours.

+ + +

One of the things you instantly feel in love with about the bunker was the extensive library you and Sam still had to explore more of to see what the Men of Letters had on lore. You had many more books to find a place for after you cleaned out your house with no intention of going back. There was a few boxes already occupying one of the tables that awaited your sorting and another one in your bedroom that you decided to keep for decoration. Your focus was occupied by one of the books that Sam pulled from the shelf to read over. And that's how Dean found you, the both of you with a nose in your book, too engrossed to hear him coming with lunch like he promised not too long ago.

You found yourself breaking your concentration when you inhaled a breath, catching a whiff of something that made your stomach feel queasy. Your nose scrunched up when you recognized the smell as to be hamburger along with cheese. All though the smell bothered you before when you found out you were pregnant, suddenly it felt worse than ever, to the point where you had to stop yourself from telling Dean to get the plate away from you after he set it down in front of you.

“What are you guys reading?” Dean asked, setting down his brother’s plate right next to him.

"Sort of everything." Sam said.

"Good. Somebody's gonna have to dig through all of this, and it ain't gonna be me." Dean said, smiling at the lack of help he was willing to provide and took a seat at the next table to dig into the meal he made.

Sam pushed aside the book to start eating the food his brother made that looked good. And too appetizing to be frozen or fast food. He lifted up the bun to inspect the craftsmanship and how good it smelled to him. "You made these?"

"We have a real kitchen now." Dean said.

"I know. I just didn't think you knew what a kitchen was." Sam replied. "And, you know, Y/N didn't help you from burning the place down."

"I'm nesting. Eat." Dean told his brother, not wanting to hear another word from the man until he got a taste of the food. Sam decided to see if it was good as it smelled. He grabbed the burger and took one bite, his brother intently watching him to see his reaction while your face grimaced slightly from how he could eat something that smelled God awful to you. Sam muttered a happy reaction from a mouth full of food. Dean broke out into a victorious smirk. "You're welcome."

You were happy to see the boys were enjoying their first cooked meal in the bunker, but it was taking everything in you not to tell them to stop. You tried to gain the willpower to at least take a bite of the burger, but if you did, you feared you'd get sick. So to compromise with yourself you grabbed the bun and ripped off a piece to eat. "Why aren't you eating, Y/N? Is there something wrong with it?"

You flinched when you heard the sound of Dean, obviously catching you pushing away the plate and the uncomfortable look on your face. You looked up at him to see that he was a little concerned as to why you weren't eating. You opened your mouth slightly, suddenly feeling like a deer in headlights, knowing there was only two outcomes that tell him why you weren't eating. Either tell him the truth. Or simply say you weren't hungry at the moment But that wasn't the case from what came tumbling out of your mouth to try and cover your tracks.

"I'm a vegetarian." You blurted out, catching both of the boys by surprise at what you came up with. Dean set down his food, seeming a little taken back at your change of diet that seemed out of the blue. Sam looked at you a bit funny, and the expression only grew more when you dragged him into this. "Yeah. I decided I don't want to eat anymore dead animals. It’s inhumane. Sam told me about this documentary he wanted to see. Well, I watched it, and now...even the smell of meat makes me sick. I just can't do it anymore."

What you said wasn't an exact lie, the smell really did make you feel sick. Just for the wrong reasons. You watched as Sam gave you a look from how you dragged him into this while his brother processed the fact that you changed your eating habits once again.

"You don't drink anymore, you barely have coffee. And now you're not eating meat? If I didn't know any better," Dean said, only to momentarily take a pause that made your heart stop in your chest, fearing the next set of words that were to come out his mouth was the truth you’d been keeping from him. "I would think you've been hanging around Sammy too much.”

"Sure. Let's go with that. While you boys enjoy your burgers," You grabbed the book you've been reading and began making your way to the kitchen to find something for yourself. "I'm gonna go eat something that doesn't make me want to vomit."

You made it halfway across the library until you found yourself stopping in your tracks, curious as to who was calling Dean when you heard his phone go off. He rolled his eyes in annoyance when the person was calling him right before he could enjoy his food. The caller was Kevin after Dean spoke the prophet's name a few times after him grow silent after only speaking a few suspicious words. A cautious look settled on your face as you pressed the book against your chest. Kevin almost never called you unless it was something important. The annoyed look on Dean's face was clear enough for him to think that it had Crowley's name written all over it.

Dean grabbed his plate and began making his way back to his bedroom, knowing he could eat his food while out on the road. Sam got out of his seat and followed behind his brother, but he couldn't quite part with his food, grabbing the burger to snack on while he got ready. Knowing that you would be making a trip to Garth's boat house, a sudden craving hit you out of nowhere, the burger reminding you of some fast food you had while around town. When you got cravings, even the oddest ones you ate in secrecy, it wouldn't leave you until the baby got what it wanted.

"Hey, on the way to Kevin, do you think it's possible we could make a pit stop? There's this diner that has the best fries. Oh. And what about a milkshake? That sounds really good..." You found yourself mentioning something that sounded a bit insensitive to the situation you were dealing with right now. Kevin was in possible trouble, and you wanted to stop for a snack. You smiled slightly, trying to backtrack. "I meant...on the way back. Obviously."

Dean gave you a look, wondering what was going on with you. You brushed past him and made your way to your bedroom to get what you needed, hoping he'd forget about the conversation all together. The same way you hoped you could forget about your cravings, and not get sick during the ride to Kevin from the smell of the burgers that somehow was lingering around the bunker. It was gonna be a rough six and a half more months until this baby came.

+ + +

Dealing with any kind of progress of prophets, tablets and closing the gates of hell had been silent for months now. There seemed to be no kind of improvement from the last time Dean checked up on the kid to make sure he was still breathing. Your mind went to the worst case scenario when Kevin called out of the blue. Either he worked himself to death, or Crowley was eager to get the other half of the tablet. The son of a bitch had been awfully quiet since the last time you saw him, it wouldn't surprise you if he had been spending that time working up a plan.

You and the boys approached Garth's boat house with caution, all though it seemed quiet like the last time you'd been here, you always had to presume the worst. Dean headed in first with his brother following right behind. You lingered in the back as usual, holding the demon knife as a precaution. All of you checked the boat to make sure the place was clear of any threats, and while it was, you still had yet to find the person who called you in the first place.

It was Dean who had the fortunate task of finding the kid, face down in the toilet, throwing up whatever he had this morning. You peaked in slightly to make sure that he was somewhat all right. You grimaced at the sight of Kevin with his face in the toilet bowl, knowing that position a little too well over the past several weeks. He might be a little sick and looking awful from the last time you saw him, but he was alive. And had some very exciting news to share. You were more concerned about his well being than the reason why you were here in the first place.

“Wow. You look like hammered crap.” Dean wasn’t sugar coating it for the kid. Kevin agreed that his appearance was a little more dishshelved than normal while he took care of a bloody nose.

"Are you sleeping?" You asked the younger man. Kevin shrugged, replying that he really wasn't. Your face dropped into a slightly annoyed look from the lack of care he was willing to put in on himself. His mother might not be here to scold him, but you were willing to give him an earful on what he should be doing. "Are you at least eating?"

"Hot dogs, mostly." Kevin said.

"Sure, yeah—breakfast of champions. Look, I'm gonna feel dirty saying this," Dean decided to give the kid some advice that normally would never pass his lips. But he felt it was necessary before he put himself into an early grave. "but you might want a salad and a shower."

“I know, and I’ve been getting bad headaches and nosebleeds, and I think I maybe I had a small stroke. But it was worth it.” Kevin said. You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering what was so important that he nearly caused himself bodily harm on his health. You were ready to tell him to slow things down and take some time for himself, but the words seem to fall flat when he told you the news he’d been wanting to tell you. Kevin got up from his seat, smiling as he pointed to the half of his tablet that he'd been studying for weeks. and spoke the words that you had only dreamed about hearing. "I figured out how to close the gates of hell."

You felt your lips stretching into a wide smile, the kind where it started to hurt your cheeks after only a few moments, but the pain was well worth after hearing the news come from the man. It felt like it was all too good to be true. Dean couldn't help himself but celebrate the exciting news by going over to the prophet and giving him a tight hug, even lifting the kid a few inches off the ground. He momentarily regretted the decision, getting a whiff of the kid’s body odor.

“Okay, okay. So, what does this mean?” Sam asked, getting all of you to focus and not celebrate just yet before you could find out what all of you needed to do. This was only the beginning of accomplishing your goal. “What are we looking at?”

“It’s a spell.” Kevin explained to all of you. You raised your brow slightly from what he meant by that, following him to his wall full of notes and research he gathered over the past few months  he’d been working on translating the tablet. “And it’s just a few words of Enochian, but the spell has to be spoken after you finish each of the three trials.”

“Trials, like ‘Law and Order’?” Sam wondered if that was what the kid meant. He grabbed the index card from his brother to see what the spell was that needed to be said in order to complete this supposed spell.

“More like Hercules. The tablet says, 'Whosoever chooses to undertake these tasks should fear not danger, nor death, nor...' a word I think means getting your spine ripped out through your mouth for all eternity." Kevin said. Well, it wasn't exactly glamorous as one might expect, but you had dealt with your fair share of torture through the years. "Basically, God built a series of tests, and when you've done all three, you can slam the gates of hell.”

“So, what,” You sarcastically asked. “God wants us to take the SATs?”

“I guess.” Kevin said. “He works in mysterious ways.”

"Yeah, mysterious, douchey ways." Dean remarked before getting down to business. “All right. Where do we start?"

"I've only been able to crack one of the tests so far, and it's gross." Kevin said. You were prepared to do just about anything to get started on this project you heard about since you got back. But even for you, what you were about to hear made your stomach churn. "You've got to kill a hound of hell and bathe in its blood."

“Awesome.” Dean didn’t seem to have a problem with the task head on. Hell, it seemed like he was willing to do it right now if he  had the chance. You found yourself looking at him with a slightly confused expression for his eagerness, and why he thought it was him who was going to do the trials. "Hey, if this means icing all demons, I got no problem gutting some devil dog and letting calgon take me away."

“Where are you gonna find one?” Kevin asked.

“Well, hell hounds like to collect on crossroads deals. So all we got to do is track down some loser who signed over his special sauce ten years ago, get between him and Clifford the big dead dog—easy.” Dean said. His confidence about completing a dangerous task overshadowed the enemy he was going up against. You had faced a few hell hounds in your time, and most of them ended with someone getting torn to bits.

“Doesn’t sound easy.” Kevin said. Sam mentioned that it wasn't going to be, but his older brother didn't seem to want to hear anything negative or realistic about the challenge he thought it was him who was going to go up against.

“Look, you get on the net—see what you can dig up. I’m gonna go for a supply run because we need goofer dust, and the kid needs to eat something that’s not ground-up hooves and pigs’ anuses—not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Dean said. You scoffed quietly from the man’s food palate that made you grimace at the thought of even going even anywhere near that kind of meat. You were having his baby, and for some reason, it was rejecting the things he loved. Of course...you were still craving that greasy food and sugar fix.

+ + +

There was nothing a good change of clothes and a shower could fix. You and Sam worked on finding a possible lead while Kevin gave himself much deserved R and R, coming back looking a little more alive and smelling a hell of a lot better. While you were happy that he was feeling a lot better, there was still the talk you wanted to have with him about taking things slower. Maybe it was because you wanted to see him survive all of this and not end up dead. Maybe it was because his mother wasn't here to talk to him and set the kid straight. Whatever it was, you knew that he couldn't keep going on like this for much longer.

“Hey, Kevin, buddy, you got to slow down.” You approached the topic when you saw him reach for his cup that you knew for sure had to be filled with coffee, the helper to all hard working people that didn't like to sleep. Kevin found himself staring at you with a confused expression, wondering what you meant. "Get some shut-eye. Take a day off. Open a window.”

“No.” Kevin’s response wasn’t what you or Sam expected. You furrowed your brow from the way he was acting. “You said nuking hell—that’s how I get out. That’s how I go home.”

“Right, it is,” Sam agreed with the younger man on that point. “but you can’t live like this.”

“You think I want to? I hate it here. I can’t leave because every demon on the planet wants to peel my face off. I can’t talk to anyone expect you guys or Garth, when he swings by, or my mom. Right? And when she calls, all she does is cry.” Kevin couldn’t help himself but air out all the challenges and circumstances he had to adapt to since becoming a prophet. You and the younger Winchester gave him an understanding look, knowing it had to be tough. “I just...I need this to be over.”

“We know. We do. You have no idea how much I want all of this to be done. But trust us on this—this whole 'saving the world' thing—it's a marathon, not a sprint." You told the younger man about how much more tougher than it was. You’ve dealt with this once before, and it wasn’t going to be solved in one day. This was just the beginning of your problem solving. "You got to take better care of yourself."

You could only hope Kevin would take your words to heart and slow himself down a little bit before someone else were to take his place. Your attention lingered away from the kid when you heard the door open, revealing Dean with a bag of groceries in one hand for Kevin, and your food that you were craving before coming here in the other; an order of large fries with extra salt, along with a milkshake to give yourself a sweet and salty treat to satisfy the baby’s needs. You didn’t give the man a second to get very far before you fetched your food out of Dean's hands, mumbling a thank you from how he remembered.

“Did you know that there are like, six thousand kinds of tomatoes?” Dean asked. You knew he wasn't a frequent lurker in the produce departments at grocery stores, you entertained his question with a curious look while you dug into your food. "Did you guys find anything?"

"Yeah.” Sam said, turning his attention to his laptop to pull up the victim that was about to add a little more time to their deal. “Demon signs, ten years ago, all centered on Shoshone, Idaho."

“Okay, well, big-time mojo means a big-time freak. So, anybody have a horseshoe shoved up his ass?” Dean asked the million dollar question.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Sam chuckled to himself. He turned the laptop around to show you and his brother the family that got lucky the most sinful way possible, selling their soul for greed. “Meet the Cassidys’, small-time farmers who struck oil on their land in February of ‘03. Which is weird because geological surveys—”

"Yeah, you had me at 'weird.'" Dean said. "All right. We thinking deal?"

“Best lead we got.” Sam said.

"Well, let's go visit the Beverly Hillbillies. You stay here, work on step number two, and if you come across anything about hell hounds, drop a time, okay? 'Cause between the claws and the teeth and the whole invisibility thing, those bitches can be...real bitches." Dean gave the prophet another task that might help all of you in the long run and not go stabbing in the dark for the hound. Before he forget, there was something that Dean also picked up from the store that might be helpful. He pulled out two bottles from the bag and gave them to Kevin. " I got you a present. The blue ones are for headaches, and the green ones are for pep. Don't O.D."

Dean thought he was helping Kevin by giving him all sorts of pills that looked unsafe to be used in double dosage with one another. He had enough health problems as it is, and his brother was cautious to let the kid play around with medication. When Sam voiced his caution on the matter, Dean brushed it off as nothing, thinking it was time for all of you to push through the pain if you wanted this job done right. You weren't exactly in agreement with what Dean said, but Kevin was a smart kid, you were sure he'd be able to mix the medication without overdosing.

+ + +

Hell and demons were always a sore spot for you; from having your entire life ruined by one, to selling your soul to one...and, you know, being born as half one made you grow to detest the place and everything that crawled out of it. When you first heard about being able to lock away the evil that destroyed your life more than once, it felt like a dream come true—the kind that you thought was never going to be possibility that you were going to reach it. But here you were, knowing exactly what to do, and how to complete the first trial. All you needed to do was kill a hell hound and roll around in its blood, seemed simple enough. A little dangerous, but possible. And you had every intention of being a part of it.

“Are you kidding me? You can’t do this!”

There was someone who didn't share the same confidence in you as you did, despite everything you accomplished while you were pregnant. You went up against vampires and demons, Nazi necromancers and someone who could shape reality to make it a cartoon world. A hell hound was just another monster you could handle. Sam didn't think so.

You knew the way you were acting when Sam suggested for you to stay behind, yelling on the top of your lungs and following behind the boys like their shadow, was childish. Your anger only grew worse when Dean agreed without hesitance. You weren't allowed to take part of the trials because you were considered a "safety hazard." Aka, this was Sam's way of keeping you on the side lines. The very thing that you had wanted to take part of—and he was benching you. Every logical part of your brain was telling you to agree. But you couldn’t.

“Yes, we can. It’s too risky for you tag along.” Dean said. You gave him a look of disbelief from how he was handling this situation and not defending you. Time and time again you proved yourself you were capable of handling a dangerous hunt, but ti seemed that Dean didn’t want to take a chance. “We’re not the ones who put a damper on Crowley’s plans to crack open Purgatory and killed that demon bitch he worked mighty hard to get out. I’m sure he’s got every demon and hell hound looking for you already.”

“And he doesn’t want to see you two dead?” You questioned him. “Crowley hates you much as he hates me. Hell, probably even more from the crap you two pulled while I was gone.”

"You could get hurt." Sam reminded you about the danger you would be putting yourself in if you decided to come along. You threw daggers at what he was saying, knowing it translated that the baby could be put in danger, too. Like you didn’t know that. "Besides, we need someone to hold down the fort when we're gone."

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, letting out a frustrated sigh. "It's not fair.”

"Life ain't fair, sweetheart.” Dean said, trying to make you understand. You gave the man a dirty glare from his words that wasn’t helping your bad mood. “Sam's right. It's too dangerous for you to be out there. I wish things were different, but this is how it's gotta be.”

You turned your head to the side when you saw Dean lean forward to give you a kiss goodbye, presuming your bad mood was a sign of defeat. He let out a sigh, choosing not to leave himself hanging, he gave you a quick peck on the forehead before he made his way out. Sam watched as his brother began heading up the staircase and to the front door with the supplies they would need for the trip, he lingered behind for a moment. You slowly looked over at the younger man, and the dead serious expression on his face.

"Y/N, look," Sam spoke up first, wanting to clear the air and set things straight before you could twist his motives into a whole other reason. "I'm not doing this because I don't think you can't handle yourself. I'm doing it for—"

"Let's get one clear, Sam. I'm pregnant. It does not translate into me suddenly being helpless..” You told the man, cutting him off before he could speak another word. "I would understand your concern if I was ready to pop or something like that. But I'm barely even showing yet. I don't see why I can't even tag along to help."

"Because, it's dangerous." Sam reminded you, his voice growing harder. “I can’t risk it.”

"I can still fight." You shot back at him. "Hell, I've saved your ass once or twice along the way."

"That's not the point, Y/N!” The younger Winchester found himself accidentally snapping back at you from your way of thinking. “This isn't proving yourself that you're still capable of being a good hunter. This is about keeping you and the baby safe."

"And you know how i'm gonna do it? Making sure we close the gates of hell properly." You said. Sam rolled his eyes in frustration from how you weren't letting yourself seethe consequences if you were to hep take part in this hunt. You were too focused on running to the finish line. "Besides, you've never had a hell hound on your ass before. You don't know what to look for.”

"True, but I kinda got a pretty good clue after the first time. I saw you and Dean go through it all those years ago. And I really don’t want to have to see it again. You know going up against one is more than just a suicide mission on yourself.” Sam said. He didn’t want to put this image in your head, even thinking about it made a sense of dread rush over him, but he knew it would be a possibility if you went along. He had to instill some kind of fear in you. “What if you went up against one and it went for your stomach? Do you want Dean to find out that you were carrying his kid like that?”

You felt yourself taken back at how brutal he was being right now, planting a thought in your head that made you subconsciously rest a hand on your small bump, as if you were trying to protect the baby from that outcome. "That's not gonna—"

"We don't know that, Y/N. And I don't want to have to think that might be a possibility. I want this kid to be safe much as you. Hell, I'd do it right now if it meant you were okay. But that's not gonna happen if you tag along." Sam said, trying to make it clear as day that you were a safety hazard he didn’t want to keep an eye out for. And he’d do anything to make sure you wouldn’t get involved. "I'm warning you now, Y/N. You try to go anywhere near this..."

"What are you gonna do?" You asked him, almost in a taunting tone of voice. "You gonna lock me up?”

"No. I'll leave that to Dean. After I tell him you're pregnant with his kid." Sam replied calmly. Your face dropped in shock at the sudden willingness to tell a secret you've been wanting to hide for a while now. "I'm sure he'll get real creative."

"You wouldn't dare." You whispered, hoping you could somehow call his bluff on his subtle threat. Sam shrugged his shoulders, proving from the look on his face that he was ready to do just about anything. Even if it meant stepping over his boundaries and the trust you put in him for the sake of being the winner in this argument. "You're such a bastard. I swear, you breathe a word of this to him—and I'll hate you. Hell, I'd probably never forgive you."

"You know what? I don't really care, Y/N. I'd rather have you hate me for the rest of my life than end up dead." Sam said. You scoffed from his response and looked away from him, already starting on your plan to beat him to Iowa. Sam was one step ahead of you when he pulled your car keys out from his pocket, the only thing that he thought you had access to the outside world. "There should be enough food to last you a while. Read. Watch some Netflix. Nest. Do whatever pregnant women do. We'll be back in a few days. If you need something, call Garth."

You watched as Sam grabbed the duffel bag he would need for the trip and the keys to your car that was parked out front of the bunker next to the Impala. He thought you were honestly going to listen him. And maybe he was right about something. It was a suicide mission if you went up against a hell hound. There was a chance you might get hurt, or worse, die in the process of closing the gates of hell. Which meant everything that you got—the bunker, falling pregnant with your first and only child, getting married to the man you loved...could be gone. Just like that.

But there was a part of you, much bigger than the logical side telling you to stay out, that was urging to you to take part of the trials. To do right of everything that you did wrong. You might be human, but there was still so much that you felt was your responsibility to fix. It was those stupid little "What if I did this instead..." that was suddenly running through your mind. For a moment you wondered if doing the trials could be your saving grace. A chance to wash the slate clean for everything you did wrong. There was no way you were going to pass up this chance.

A few minutes after the boys headed off, you were packing a bag and making a few phone calls, all while searching for keys to one of the cars you found in the bunker's garage. You knew one thing for sure, if anyone was going to do the trials, it was going to be you.

[Next Part]

[cksmart-world]

The completely unnecessary news analysis

by Christopher Smart

February 2, 2020

WHY REPUBLICANS NIXED WITNESSES

1 - He did it, but it's not an impeachable offense.

2 - He did it, but let the voters decide in November.

3 – This is a hoax lynching, so F-off.

4 - The House didn't have any first-hand witnesses, so it's Nancy Pelosi's fault.

5 - Jon Bolton is a disgruntled, rabid, angry man who had a bad childhood.

6 - We can't waste time on this, because if we do, we can't waste time on other stuff.

7 - The whistle blower is a subversive communist who must be unmasked and hanged, or at least given a pantsing by Rand Paul.

8 - He did it, but if I vote for witnesses, I'll be disinvited from CPAC and be reduced to drinking milkshakes with Mitt Romney in the cloakroom — I could even wind up with my head on a pike.

9 - He did it, but if we call witnesses, Americans will get an up-close account of how to run a criminal enterprise from the White House and that would hurt our democracy.

10 - He did it, but Congress has given up its constitutional mandate to check the power of the president. Long live Trump.

DUCK AND COVER, LEGISLATURE IN SESSION

The staff here at Smart Bomb has loaded up on emergency supplies: water, trail mix, flashlights and toilet paper — everything needed to survive a cataclysm. That's right, the Utah Legislature is in session. One of the slimiest and oft-used ploys on Capital Hill is something called a “boxcar.” That's when a legislator puts up a bill that is blank. Cagey lawmakers then wait until the last minute confusion of the session to sneak in language out of the Old Testament and have it voted through before anyone can say, lights out. But the staff here at Smart Bomb has cleverly embedded moles in the Republican caucus to get the skinny. One boxcar would amend Utah liquor law to mandate that fine wine be served in beer mugs. This would dissuade people from drinking wine. A companion boxcar would mandate that beer be served only in champaign flutes. Imagine that at the Twilight Lounge. Another boxcar would force pregnant women to watch a fetus grilled on the spit of a Weber Barbecue before seeking an abortion. This is when some new residents call back the Mayflower Movers. Our intel has it that another one would require everyone over 18 to carry a firearm. The legislation is labeled, “The Safe Utah Law.” Wilson and the band have loaded up on California bud and Pabst Blue Ribbon — it's going to be a long, strange haul to March 14.

CALIFORNIA DREAMIN' IN FINALND

The American Dream is a lot easier to achieve in Finland. So says Sanna Marin, the Finnish prime minister. “We have a very good education system. We have a good health-care and social welfare system that allows anybody to become anything.” These are probably some of the reasons Finland gets ranked the happiest country in the world.” The United States is ranked 17th. Nordic countries are at the top of the World Economic Forum’s “Social Mobility Index,” that evaluates how citizens from all walks of life fare in health, educational achievement and income. The United States ranks No. 27. Don't tell that to Donald Trump (not that you could). But that's not all. In Finland health care is free — for everyone. The Finn's spend about $4,000 per person per year. The U.S. health-care system, by contrast, spends more than $10,000 per person per year. And no surprise, Finns are healthier. Finland also has one of the lowest poverty rates in the world — 6.3 percent compared to 11.8 percent in the U.S. All of that may be true, but the Finns don't have the Super Bowl and pelvis-grinding half-time shows. So put that in your kalakukko and smoke it.

SUPER SUNDAY IS AS AMERICAN AS GUACAMOLE

The nation's big celebration is in the books for another year and many people actually know who won the game. By Easter, few will remember the come-from-behind spectacle of Patrick Mahomes and the Kansas City Chiefs. But, hey, the important thing is that Americans all got together in front of a TV and didn't talk politics. We were united by chicken wings and guacamole. Americans ate 1.38 Billion (with a 'B') chicken wings, according to Food & Drink magazine. (We did not make this up.) But that's not all. Americans devoured an estimated 153 Million pounds of avocados for guacamole on Super Sunday, along with 14,500 tons of chips. To wash it all down, we drank an estimated 162 million gallons of beer. On average, each American consumed 2,400 calories. Football, of course, is a dangerous sport — for spectators: Since 2013, avocado accidents  (removing the pit with a knife) have accounted for 27,059 trips to the emergency room — the majority of which occurred on Super Sunday. There is no reliable data on hangovers, but a potentially record number of people took Monday off. It's the god's honest truth.

Post Script — There it is, another historic week here at Smart Bomb. And when we say historic, we aren't just whistling “Dixie.” This will go down as the time when unabashed Republican senators tied themselves up in integrity pretzels that even they found embarrassing. Can't you just see Lindsey Graham years from now in his rocking chair gazing out at yesteryear: “The Devil made me do it.” Right. Closer to the present, Michael Bloomberg has drawn first blood in our never-ending presidential campaign: “Trump is a pathological liar who lies about everything: his fake hair, his obesity, and his spray-on tan.” Ouch. That hit the Insulter-In-Chief right where he lives.  And speaking of Trumpness, Brian Wilson has called for a boycott of The Beach Boys over their upcoming engagement at a trophy-hunting event featuring Donald Trump Jr. Mike Love is the only remaining member of the '60s California band, who sang about surfing, cars, girls and big-game safaris. WTF. The original quintet (The Wilson brothers, Brian Dennis and Carl and their cousin, Al Jardine) wouldn't  be caught dead posing with a leopard carcass. “Help me Rhonda, help me Rhonda now, shoot that big ol' rhinoceros...” Yecht. There ought to be a law. But what are you going to do?

OK, Wilson, wake up the band and take us out with a little feel-good for Punxsutawney Phil's early spring: Well, she got her daddy's car / And she cruised to the hamburger stand, now / Seems she forgot all about the library / Like she told her old man, now / And with the radio blasting / Goes cruising just as fast as she can now / And she'll have fun, fun, fun till her daddy takes the T-bird away...

[whumpitgood]

Lay Your Weary Head to Rest

Title: Lay Your Weary Head to Rest Author: whumpitgood Fandom: Supernatural Relationship: gen Rating: T Word Count: 9,038 Warnings: major character death, blood, minor language Spoilers: none Summary:  Sam and Dean quit the family business.  This is Sam and Dean’s last hunt.  (Or, How their story should end when season 15 ends.)    Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters don’t belong to me.  Just writing for fun. Note: 1) When they announced that the show ends with season 15, I tried to imagine how they could wrap it all up.  This is what my mind came up with.           2) This story contains death.  Don’t read it if that bothers you, but I promise it ends well.           3) Title inspired by “Carry On Wayward Son” by Kansas.

*********************

“Find anything?”  Dean slammed his book closed and rubbed his temples. He glanced over at Sam who sat across from him in the bunker’s library.

“No,” Sam sighed deeply. “Still nothing.  It’s been nearly two weeks and we still have no idea what’s out there, steadily wiping out half of that town.  We can’t keep sitting here doing nothing.  We’ve—“

“Hey, we’re not doing nothing.  We’re doing research.  Your favorite,” Dean said with a smile.  “Besides, I’m sure Cas has found something by now.”

Just then, there was a loud, metallic clanging as the bunker door was opened and shut.  Both brothers turned and watched Castiel walk slowly and somberly down the stairs before meeting them in the library.

“Speak of the devil. Here he is now,” Dean said, giving Cas a pat on the shoulder.  Cas looked at Dean, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.  

“But, I’m not—“

“Never mind, Cas. What do you have for us?  You figure it out?” Dean asked.

“Sadly, I have not. Whatever this creature is, it continues to elude me.  I can’t find any lore on it, and my contacts were no help, either.  I’m afraid we still have no idea what’s killing all those people.”

“That’s it,” Sam said, closing his laptop lid with a sense of finality.  “We need to head out.  Let’s go there and track it down.  Maybe if we get a good look at it we can figure it out.”  He stood up and began putting his jacket on.  

“Let’s not be too hasty, Sam,” Cas stated, holding out a palm in a placating manner.

“No, he’s right,” Dean said, also getting to his feet.  “While we sit here trying to figure this out, more people are dying.  Let’s go find this ugly son of a bitch and see what kind of clues we can pick up about it.  Then we’ll have more to go on to figure out what it is and how to send its sorry ass to purgatory.”

“Coming?” Sam asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“’Course,” Cas answered. ”I’ve got a couple more leads to follow up on and then I’ll meet you two there.  Is it alright if I take Jack with me?  He could be of some help.”

“Sure thing.  We’ll meet you guys in a couple of days, then. Keep in touch,” Dean said.

Sam and Dean gave Cas a pat on the shoulder as they passed by him to grab some things and then head out on their way.

The trip was long, but neither Winchester minded.  Music turned up, they sailed down the open road, taking it all in.  Sitting side by side in the Impala was where they belonged. The bunker may be where they lived, but Baby would always be their home.

They finally reached the small town some time later, or at least, they reached what was left of it. The majority of its residents had either turned up dead, missing, or fled in fear of being the next victim to whatever was plaguing them.  The few townspeople who remained watched warily as a shiny black car roared through their streets.  People had stopped coming to their town weeks ago, so they weren’t sure what to make of these new strangers.  

After checking into a hotel, the Winchesters began their search.  Most people wouldn’t talk, but they were able to gather a little bit here and there.  The deaths had been spread out over the last two weeks, the bodies showing brutal abuse before their deaths.  It wasn’t clear what was causing the damage.  There were no missing organs, bite marks, or any other telltale signs of what creature could be the culprit.  In fact, there weren’t many similarities other than being littered with wounds.  They were stumped.

The boys were just getting into the Impala when Dean’s phone rang.  Dean slammed his door closed before fishing it out of his pocket.

“Yeah?” he said gruffly, jamming the keys into the ignition with his free hand.

“Jack and I are almost there.  We shouldn’t be long,” Castiel said over the line.

“Good.  That’s good.  Did you guys find anything?”

“I’m afraid not.  I have a feeling that this may be something ancient.  We must be very careful,” Cas answered.

“Hm.  Probably.  Wouldn’t be the first time.”  Dean paused for a second, thinking.  “Well, anyway, me and Sam are about to head over to check out an old, abandoned house on the edge of town.  There hasn’t been any pattern where the bodies have been found, but there are rumors of strange things happening down in that area.  Thought we’d give it a look, see if there’s any trace of a creature squatting or something, “ he explained.

“I don’t advise that, Dean.  You two need to wait for Jack and me to get there.  Don’t go alone.  You guys need back up.”

“I’ve got Sam’s back and he’s got mine.  Relax, Cas. We probably won’t find anything, anyway. Just thought we’d give it a look before heading back to the hotel for the night.  Not a big deal,” Dean said casually.

“When is it ever ‘not a big deal’, Dean?  It’s never simple.  Just give us about a half hour.  Or we could get some rest and go in the morning,” Cas nearly pleaded.

“Nah, we’re already close by.  Our hotel is across town.  We’ll check it out and then meet you guys at the hotel,” Dean said, then added, “And while you’re at it, pick up some grub along your way.  There was a diner a few miles back.  Grab some burgers.  And pie. Don’t forget the pie,” Dean said with a small smile, tuning the keys and starting the engine.

Castiel sighed over the line.  “Okay.  Just be careful.  Both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah.   See you in a bit.”  Dean hung up and set the phone beside him on the seat.  He glanced over at Sam before backing out of his parking space and pulling onto the road.  “Cas and Jack will be here soon.”

“Good.  Maybe we can compare notes and figure this out,” he said, gazing out the window.  The sun was going down.  It would be dark soon.

A few minutes later, the boys pulled up to an old, rundown house.  No one had lived there in over a decade.  The large, two story was covered in vines and ivy all along its walls and the porch was caving in on itself in places.  There didn’t appear to be a single window still fully intact.

Dean shut off the engine and the two Winchesters got out of the car, slamming closed the doors with their signature squeak.  They rifled through the trunk, grabbing anything that they thought would be useful in case they came across some unknown threat.  With a flashlight in one hand and a knife in the other, Sam led the way into the decrepit home.

The old wooden floorboards groaned with the job of holding the boys’ weight.  Dust and dirt gave the floor a gritty feel as two sets of boots littered it with imprints of the bottom of their shoes.

They searched thoroughly, looking in closets and behind furniture, trying to find anything to help them figure out what had been killing people these last few weeks. After an extensive search of the first floor turned up nothing more than rat droppings and dust bunnies, they made their way carefully up the rickety steps to the second floor.  

They explored the rooms meticulously, double checking each room before moving on to the next.  Sam approached the last room down the hall while Dean checked out the room next door.  The door was closed, so Sam reached out a cautious hand and slowly turned the knob before giving the door a light shove.  

Dust swirled in the wake of the opening door and Sam held an elbow over his mouth and nose to block it from reaching his sinuses.  Even so, his eyes began to water and he internally groaned at the thought of getting hay fever from this.

He took a step into the room and stopped.  Something didn’t feel right.  He didn’t know what.  There was nothing to see or hear to suggest that anything was off, but his instincts were telling him to turn back around and get out.  They were rarely wrong, but he knew he couldn’t do that.  If he felt like he should leave, then he was in the right place.  This must be what they were looking for.

He used his flashlight to do a quick sweep of the room but didn’t see anyth…wait.  What was that?  Sam took a few steps into the room and swept the flashlight again.  Yes, there it was.  The light seemed to bend around the far corner of the room, like it couldn’t touch that area.  Something was going on.  Something was there, but he just couldn’t see it.

A whole list of possibilities was rushing through Sam’s mind too quick to keep up.  He thought he might have a vague idea of what this could be, even though that would be impossible.  He had only seen it mentioned a few times in the lore, but each entry was barely a mention.  From what he could gather, it killed in order to feed off of life energy to sustain itself. Not souls, fortunately (he’d had enough soullessness to last a lifetime).  It would mean that this thing was older than Chuck himself.  If he was right, then they were in deep trouble.

“Dean?” he called out not too loudly.  He didn’t want the creature to react to his presence, but he couldn’t not warn Dean. This was serious.

He took a few steps closer to try to see better, to try to reaffirm his suspicions, but in that same instant, a light exploded where the creature was.  There was a bright glow emanating from it, but its form was too indistinct to make out.  It seemed to undulate like that of a jellyfish, but without such a tangible body. It was large, nearly reaching the ceiling and occupying around a four-foot radius from the corner of the room.  It was also mostly translucent, like it was made of pure energy, but again, it was hard to really tell much about its appearance other than it was bright and it was undeniably beautiful yet terrifying all at the same time.

He wasn’t sure if calling out had startled it or if it had intended on preying on them the moment they entered the house, but at that moment, it didn’t matter.  In an instant, several things happened at once: Dean called Sam’s name as he neared the bedroom door at the same time Sam opened his mouth to tell Dean to stay away.  In that same moment, the creature glowed impossibly brighter for a fraction of a second as it released a toxic energy that visibly pulsed outward. There was a crack like thunder and then all was still once again.  The silence was deafening after the loud boom and the brightness dimmed to resume its ethereal glow.

The first thing Dean noticed afterward was that he was lying on the ground and any attempt he made to get up resulted in terrible pain.  One look at his hip and leg, though, showed that even if he did get up, he wasn’t going anywhere.  Whatever that blast was had knocked him into the wall with terrible force, causing pain all along the right side of his body.  His head also hurt and he could feel the blood flowing down the side of his face.

The next thing he was aware of was the half a dozen or so dead rats lying scattered around him. They hadn’t been there before, so they must have been tossed as he had been, but also perished in that blast. Dean’s mind was sluggish to realize that if that had happened to the rodents, then what had happened to Sam who was closer than he was to whatever the hell that blast was?

Scared, Dean began to half-crawl, half-drag his battered body over to his little brother.

“Sam!” No response. “Sammy!  Answer me, damn it!” he yelled through his fear.  He had to be alright.  He just had to.  Dean didn’t stop to think about the danger he might be putting himself in by going closer to the source of the blast.  He didn’t care.  He just needed to be near Sam.  

Dean ignored the sense of dread he felt as he crossed the threshold into the room.  He ignored how debris and furniture looked unaffected by the force that had shoved him hard enough into the wall to put a hole in the plaster, how the force only seemed to affect living creatures and not the furniture or other objects.  All Dean could see, all that consumed him, was the sight of Sam lying on his back so still, so unmoving on the hardwood floor. Cold unease flowed through him, his chest tightened, and his stomach was in knots.  It was like Cold Oak all over again.

Dean army crawled the last few feet and stopped beside his brother.  His heart clenched when he finally got a good look at him.  Sam had cuts and gashes along his hairline, his face, even along his chest, visible through the rips in his clothing.  Blood poured from them, his flannel already becoming saturated.  His chest looked uneven, undoubtedly due to broken ribs, and Dean noticed then how labored Sam’s breathing was.  He was barely getting any air in or out.  It was little more than a wheeze as his chest rattled with the effort.  Dean felt tears prick in his eyes from the sight.  He knew this was bad.  Worse than bad.

Propping himself up on an elbow, he reached his free hand over to his little brother and gently stroked his face, removing some blood soaked strands of hair from his eyes.  

“Sammy,” he said softly, giving his cheek a light pat.  “Sammy, I’m here.  Big brother’s here.  Open your eyes, man.  It’s okay.” Dean felt like a jackass for saying that.  Sam wasn’t okay.  This situation wasn’t okay.  Nothing about this was even remotely okay at all.  He just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to the contrary.  Sam needed him now more than ever.

Sam’s eyelids fluttered, then finally opened half-mast.  His pupils weren’t quite the same size and his eyes didn’t seem to fully focus, but they were open, so Dean would consider that a win.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said with a smile.  Sam’s eyes sluggishly looked around before settling on Dean.  Dean could tell that he was trying to focus and keep his eyes open. There were times when his eyes looked like they were going to roll up, but Sam stubbornly clung to consciousness and tried so hard to keep his gaze toward Dean.

“It’s okay, Sam. We’ll figure this out. Everything’s okay.”  Dean had no idea what to do or what to say.  He just kept talking because he knew Sam needed it.

Sam opened his mouth and Dean thought he was going to speak, but a cough tore through Sam instead.  It was a deep, hacking cough that rasped itself out of his chest.  Blood bubbled up his throat and spilled out the side of his mouth and chin, making it even harder for him to breathe.  Dean seriously worried he’d choke on it.

Carefully, Dean tilted Sam slightly on his side and pounded his back.  The coughs continued, but he wasn’t gagging on blood anymore.  Each cough took a toll on Sam and with each one, Dean worried he wouldn’t take another breath.  When there was a small puddle of blood on the floor, Sam was finally done, so he laid him gently back down, only then noticing the blood pooling on the floor around his other injuries, injuries he hadn’t even triaged yet. He sighed wearily.  Even without looking, he knew he couldn’t fix this. He felt it in his bones.  His gut churned with the thought.  

“There you go, Sam. That’s right.  Just breathe, okay?”

Sam’s tired eyes found Dean again, his face paler than any ghost they’d ever come across in their hunts. He opened his mouth again, but this time, he spoke.

“D-dean,” he said, barely a whisper, barely a breath at all and would have been missed had it not been for the rapt attention his brother gave him.

“I’m here, Sam, I’m here,” he said desperately, taking Sam’s hand and holding it in his own.  Sam was too weak to grip it back, but he could tell he appreciated it.

“’m s-sorry,” Sam continued. Dean had to read his lips to fully understand.  Air was barely passing through his lungs anymore.  

When Dean realized what he said, he felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest.  Leave it to Sam to feel guilty about dying, to always finding some way of blaming himself for something completely out of his control. If this was anyone’s fault, it was his own for not listening to Cas and waiting until morning, but that was irrelevant now.  This was happening and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.  Tears began flowing freely down his cheeks.  

“No, Sam.  I’m sorry.  I’m your big brother.  This should never have happened.  I should’ve protected you.  I should’ve—“ he cut himself off as a sob wracked through him.

“Dean,” he whispered. He let out a couple more coughs. More blood.  His next breath rattled and rasped into his abused lungs. Dean knew he was fighting to pull that air in with everything he had left.  Sam’s face scrunched with the effort, and Dean could see the pain written along each one of those lines etched there.  He hated seeing Sam suffer like this.

“Dean…love,” a pause as Sam tried for another breath, “…you,” he finished, reaching out his hand not clasped in Dean’s to reach out and touch Dean’s chest.  Dean suspected that he wanted to clutch his shirt in his fist, but lacked the strength to do so.  He held his hand there for a second before letting it fall.

“Sammy,” he sobbed. “Sammy, I love you.  So much, man,” he said through his tears.  Dean swore he saw a faint smile on Sam’s lips just before his eyes slipped closed.  “Sammy?”

The only response he got was a single breath rattling from Sam’s bloodied chest.  Dean paused and waited.  Waited.  Nothing. Sam didn’t take another breath in. Dean shook Sam, gently at first and then harder when he got no response.  Sam’s hand was cold in his own.  

Dean pulled Sam close to him and cradled his lifeless body to his chest.  He kept mumbling “no” and that he loved him.  He told him he was sorry for all the times he yelled at him and didn’t trust him, for not being a better big brother.  He hoped that somewhere, Sam heard him.  He regretted not saying it all earlier, when he had the chance.

When the tears ran dry, he carefully, gently, laid Sam back on the floor.  For the first time, he took a look around the room.  Something here killed his brother and he wasn’t about to let it go unpunished.  Putting thoughts of his own safety aside, he turned to the still-glowing presence in the corner of the room, which, until now, he hadn’t even noticed.

“Hey, you bastard!” he said from his seated position on the floor, still unable to get to his feet. “Why don’t you come fight me like a man!”  He reached for his gun and got a shot off before there was a deafening roar and he was pushed back by a wave of energy, a repeat of what had happened before.

When it passed, he felt unimaginable pain, but he didn’t care.  It barely registered to the pain he already felt squeezing his heart.  He used what little strength he had left to scoot his body closer to Sam.  He reached out and held his hand once again.  He could taste a metallic tang with every strangled breath he took, but it only made him smile.  

He looked over at Sammy as his vision dimmed.  “I’m coming, Sam,” he whispered, and let his eyes slip closed.

*

Sam found himself in a white space.  There was no floor, ceiling, or walls.  There wasn’t anything but whiteness all around.  He was confused.  Where was he? Was he dead?  Wait…yeah, he thought he probably was.  He shuddered as he thought of his last few moments.  If he was dead then this had to be, what, the Empty?  But he’d always assumed that the Empty would be darkness, like an absence of all things, but this place was bright.  Still, there was nothing, but it didn’t seem empty.

Sam felt a presence before it materialized in front of him.  Chuck stood there, smiling.  

“Hello, Sam.  We meet again,” he said, his eyes bright and cheery.

“Chuck?  What are you doing here…I mean, where are we?” Sam said in confusion, giving the place another once over.

Chuck held up his hands in a calming gesture.  “All your questions will be answered shortly.  We’re just waiting on one more arrival.  Shouldn’t be long,” he explained, glancing at his wrist, at a watch that wasn’t there.  

“One more arrival?  Arrival to where?  Death?” he paused.  “Is it Dean? Is he going to die, too?” he questioned, stressed.  He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.  As much as he didn’t want to be without his brother, he didn’t want his life to end, too. But, really, would Dean really want to live alone, without him?  Sam knew he wouldn’t want to live without Dean.  He sighed.

“Relax, Sam. Everything’s fine.”  Chuck continued to smile in such a way that appeared so genuinely happy that Sam couldn’t help but feel a bit calmer just by looking at him.

Just then, the air beside Sam began to shimmer, and a second later, Dean stood there, looking just as confused as Sam felt.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his brother and squeezing him tightly.

“Sam,” Dean said softly. “Is that really you?” he questioned, gripping onto his brother as well.

“Yeah, man, it’s me.”

Dean felt lighter than he’d felt in a long time, like a weight had been lifted off of him.  Sammy was okay.  He was right here with him.  He hadn’t lost him, after all. Dean felt tears begin pooling in his eyes and he wiped them away as they began to fall.  He wasn’t embarrassed, though, because Sammy was back.

Chuck cleared his throat. “I hate to be rude and interrupt this family reunion, but I’ve got other things to do.  If we could just wrap this up, that would be great,” he said, the smile still firmly on his face.

Dean pulled away from Sam and noticed Chuck for the first time.  He wiped away the last of his tears.

“Chuck?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” he said, not quite annoyed.  “Anyway, you two bought the farm, again, and it’s time to move on.”

“Wait, no,” Dean said. “We’ve gone back before.  Just send us back.  I know you of all people can do that.  There’s a creature out there that needs to be put down.  We’ll figure out how, just put us back. Besides, Cas and Jack—“

“—Will be fine,” Chuck finished for him.  “That creature is not your responsibility.  They’ll work it out.  From this point on, guys…nothing is your responsibility.”

“Wha…what do you mean?” Sam asked.

Chuck sighed.  “Look, I know you Winchesters aren’t used to the idea of staying dead, but you do realize that it’s going to have to happen sometime, right?” he asked, looked at each brother, who nodded.  “Well, this is your time.  Those other deaths…you two still had business to do.  The world still needed the legendary Winchesters. Now it’s time for you two to be at peace.  The world will go on without you.  It will be okay now.  

“You two are heroes. You’ve saved the world repeatedly. You’ve sacrificed so much.  As hard as it may seem, your time is over. The world will adapt.  You two deserve more, but I think I’ve got a pretty good heaven set up for you guys,” he explained, getting excited.

“Wait, just like that, and we’re done?  Just…done?” Dean questioned.

“Yes, Dean.  Just like that,” he said with the snap of his fingers.

“We’ve made it to heaven?” Sam asked incredulously.  “But Billie said—“

“Forget what she said, Sam. I’m in charge.  I make the rules and I would never let you two spend eternity in the Empty,” he shuddered.  “Besides, you guys fixed my relationship with Amara.  I owe you guys.”

“What about Cas?  He can’t end up there.  He’s family,” Dean stated.

Chuck sighed again. “I know.  I figured that’d come up.  I’ll pull some strings.  Don’t worry about it.”  He put his smile back in place.  “Now, are you guys ready to come with me or do you want to continue admiring the scenery?”

Sam and Dean looked around again, seeing nothing but whiteness all around.  They nodded.  Chuck nodded in return, and then the three of them were gone.

*

Castiel could feel dread and despair in the pit of his stomach.  He didn’t feel that way often, but when he did, he knew something was terribly wrong.  He’d never felt it this strongly before.  He was extremely worried for his friends.

Jack could pick up on Cas’s worry, but Cas refused to say anything when Jack questioned him on it. Cas just pushed harder on the pedal and flew down the highway, no regard to anything but getting there as soon as he could.  

When they pulled into town, Cas didn’t have to ask anyone where the strangers in the black car had gone. He could feel their presence and he followed his instincts to an old house on the edge of town.  

Sure enough, there was the Impala sitting there in the driveway.  He pulled up alongside it and quickly shut off the engine.  Throwing open his door, he raced out of the car, not bothering to close it or to wait for Jack to follow.  He raced up the porch steps and into the house, calling out to Sam and Dean as he went.  

Jack followed closely. He felt something was wrong, but he didn’t know what.  He knew Cas knew, too, but he would talk about it.  He felt confused and worried.  It wasn’t a combination of feelings that he liked very much.

Taking the stairs two at a time, the angel and the Nephilim quickly reached the second floor.  Cas didn’t bother searching each room.  He could feel a presence in the last room down the hall.  That’s where they needed to go.

Reaching the door, he froze, Jack nearly plowing into him.  

“No.  No no no!” Cas said in anguish, rushing to the brothers’ side.

Cas reached out to check their pulse, but knew from their cold skin that he wouldn’t find any.  He could clearly see that Sam went first by the way Dean cradled his hand in his own.  Tears burned in his eyes.  He was too late.  He wasn’t there for them when they needed him most.  

He reached out his hands again, placing an index finger on each of their foreheads, hoping beyond hope he could fix them, heal them, bring them back to him.  His fingers wouldn’t even glow.  Nothing happened.  They were gone.  If only he’d been a few minutes quicker and reached them before they passed he could have saved them, or at least eased their pain in their passing.  It was obvious that they had died very painful deaths and it tore his heart to know that.  

Jack, who lingered just outside the door, was afraid to enter.  He knew something was wrong, that something major had happened, but a part of him wanted to remain unaware to the events to save himself the stress, while the rest of him needed to know what had happened.

Deciding that it was inevitable, he stepped inside.  

Jack’s world spun.  He felt dizzy with surprise, shock, unimaginable sadness, and unquenchable rage.  Lying there were two of the three people who meant the most to him.  They were two of the few people in his short life that he had learned to trust.  They were people that he loved.

“NO!” he screamed, the single word tore through his throat in a bellow that physically shook the room.

“Jack—“ Cas, distraught, tried to calm him.

“NOOO” he shouted again.

The creature in the room, which had remained invisible up to this point, chose this moment to expose itself, giving the room an eerie glow.  

Jack’s eyes lit up yellow in response, seeing this creature as a target.  He squared his shoulders and curled his hands into fists.  Anger coursed through his veins.

“Jack!  Stay away from it!  We don’t know—“ Cas tried, but was cut off.

“YOU STOLE THEM FROM ME. YOU KILLED MY FAMILY!” he raged, shaking with the emotion.

The creature, this monster, glowed just a little brighter.  Jack closed his eyes, feeling the power surging through him and harnessed it, focusing it to his will.  His eyes opened and his fists glowed with power.  Taking a deep breath, he released it all toward the beast.  When it made contact, the creature exploded, blasting raw energy outward.  The whole house shook from the impact.  

When things settled down, Cas lifted his head.  A split second before the blast, he had wrapped his wings around himself and the Winchesters, knowing that Jack was unstable and there was no telling what would happen, especially with such an ancient creature.  

Surveying the room, he saw that the creature was gone.  There was no trace of it left and he had no doubts that it was really and truly dead. Next, though, he saw Jack.  His heart plummeted for a second time that day.

Jack lay on the floorboards, looking not much better off than the Winchesters’ bodies.  

“Jack!” He ran to his side, cradling his head on his arm and pulling him close.  “Jack, open your eyes,” he said, giving his cheek a pat.  

Jack complied, and looked up at Castiel’s face hovering over his own.  

“Did I kill it?” he asked in a soft voice.  He gave a small cough, which left his teeth coated red.

“Yes, Jack.  You killed it.”

Jack nodded. “Good.”  Another cough.  “Couldn’t let it get away,” he paused to breathe, “with taking them,” a couple breaths, “or let it hurt you,” he finished with a few more coughs.

Castiel smiled at him. “Of course not.”  He lifted his free hand.  “Now let me heal you.”

“No, Cas,” he said weakly. “I should go.”

“What?  Why, Jack?  They may be gone, but I’m still here.  We have each other.”

Jack shook his head. “I feel it.  My time.  Besides,” he paused, pulling in another painful breath, “my mom’s waiting.”

“No, Jack.  She’d want you to live.”

Cas reached his hand out again and touched it to Jack’s forehead.  This time, his fingers glowed, but nothing happened.  He frowned, sensing that Jack was blocking it with his own power.  He dropped his hand.

“Jack, please.  You can’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he said with another cough.

“Jack…you can’t.  You can’t leave me.  Don’t leave me all alone, Jack.  I beg you,” he pleaded, tears burning his eyes.

Jack reached a hand out and placed it on Cas’s forearm.  “It’s okay. I’m done, but you…still have…work to do…before you go.  You’ll be okay,” he said between breaths.

Tears streamed down Cas’s cheeks.  “Then let me help you,” he said as he sobbed.

He placed his hand to Jack’s forehead once again, and this time Jack didn’t stop him.  He allowed Cas to take away the pain.  Cas could see Jack’s face ease away from the discomfort, his body relaxing as he held him close.

“Thanks, Cas…for everything,” he said and his eyes fell closed.  Cas felt his body still and go limp.  

Cas wasn’t sure how long he sat there cradling Jack and being surrounded by the only people he’d ever really learned to love throughout all his countless years.  Just a couple decades ago, he wouldn’t have been able to describe what love felt like.  Not really. But now, not only could he describe love, but he could also explain happiness, a sense of belonging, and of heart-wrenching sadness.  He questioned whether it was worth it all, just to feel how he felt now.  Maybe it would have been better to never have met them.

He dismissed those thoughts. To have never met the Winchesters or Jack would have meant never having a purpose, never having a family.  He couldn’t imagine giving all that up, even if it meant experiencing the torture he now felt.  

He knew he’d eventually give the three of them a proper hunter’s funeral, but for now, he allowed himself the time to grieve.  

*

It had been 172 years, three months, two weeks, and two days since he’d watched Sam Winchester type away on his laptop while researching their latest case.

It had been 172 years, two months, three weeks, and four days since he’d watched Dean Winchester scarf down a double bacon cheeseburger.

It had been 172 years, four months, one week, and five days since Jack Kline bombarded him with random questions, the kid always being curious about the big wide world that he didn’t have the chance to fully explore.

It had been 172 years, five months, two weeks, and six days since they’d sat around eating pizza and binging Netflix in the bunker.

It had been 172 years, one month, three weeks, and four days since Castiel lost it all.

In most of his innumerable years, Cas had been alone.  He’d done his duties without thought, without question to anything else.  It wasn’t until he had others in his life, people to fill the void he didn’t know existed, that he understood the meaning of being truly alone.  He learned that being alone and being lonely were two very different things.  

On his deathbed, Jack had assured him that he still had a purpose in this life, but for the life of him, he didn’t know what that was.  He didn’t want to doubt the boy, but he wondered if Jack only said it to make him feel better.  Cas didn’t feel like he had anything anymore, no reason to keep going.

He gave up hunting. He couldn’t bear to do it without them. He never stepped foot into the bunker again, either.  He couldn’t. That place held too many memories. It would be far too painful.

Instead, he spent his time replaying and replaying the events of that night, wishing he could change things.  He knew it wasn’t helping, that it was an unhealthy habit, but he couldn’t help it. It was the single most worst thing that had ever happened to him in his whole life, and he was a celestial being.

He kept to himself, even turning off angel radio.  He didn’t want to be bothered with the problems of others.  He had his own.  Much like Metatron, he hid himself away from the world.

He knew that his pain and grief would keep the Empty from claiming him and he should be grateful, but there were times when he wished it would come and swallow him up, to save him from this agony.  But, he supposed, that was the point.  The Empty wanted him to suffer, and he was.  

Eventually, Cas decided that he needed to do something.  A couple decades after the incident, he began going out and helping others.  He’d find those who were on their deathbeds and ease the transition for them.  He’d take their pain away.  Could he have healed them?   Sure, but he knew that that wasn’t his place.  He targeted people whose number was up and helped them pass painlessly. It was the least he could do after failing his friends.  No one else should have to suffer like they had.  

Years passed.  There were those out there who knew what he did and spread rumors.  He became known as the Angel of Death.  They most likely didn’t know that he was an actual angel, so it was ironic, but fitting. He didn’t care.  

Some worshipped him. Others hunted him, not really sure if his intentions were as good as people claimed.  Some thought he actually killed people instead of helping them.  

The Winchesters’ name had become a sort of legend among hunters.  Some believed they were actual people once, but others believed they were just tall tales.  Either way, many knew their name.

No one knew at the time, but before his death, Sam had been working on an online database for hunters to keep track of their information.  It was a way for them to communicate, a way for them to post their journals online for everyone to take note.  He had hoped that it would help save people.  And it did.

After a month of Sam’s neglect on the program, the site had a built in command to go public, in the case of his death.  Only hunters could access it, having to answer a series of questions only a true hunter would know in order to get on.  

When hunters found it, they spread the word, connecting hunters from around the world and sharing the knowledge they’d learned on the job.  Some hunters spent their time mostly organizing the info gained, almost becoming modern-day Men of Letters, in a sense.  

The site made hunting much quicker and simpler.  Many hunters gained longer lifespans because of it.  

When Cas found out, he was proud of Sam, but not at all surprised.  That was just who Sam was, always using his abilities to help others and save lives.  Even in death, he saved people.

He logged on himself once, and searched the creature that had claimed the lives of those he loved. There was only one entry, made by Sam himself a couple years before he died.  It was vague, but it was unmistakably the same creature that they met face to face.  Of course Sam would’ve heard of it.

He wondered if Sam thought about that before his life ended, thought about the fact that he had found this ancient creature thought to be extinct.  He didn’t doubt it, even though he, himself, had never even heard of it, even in all his many years.

Cas took the time to add what he knew of the creature onto the page, how a Nephilim could kill them. Maybe the information could help someone someday.  He shrugged.

Castiel found himself squatting in an old cabin in the woods one night.  It was out of season for camping, so he figured no one would need it for a while.  He had just helped another soul cross over, so he felt at peace.  Not quite content or happy, but close enough.  

He grabbed some logs and placed them in the fireplace.  He was reaching for the matches when he heard a noise.  He halted and turned around.  His skills as a hunter had gone rusty and he no longer had any care for self-preservation, so he was unperturbed when he came face to face with a man holding a gun pointed to his chest.

The man stared him down, daring him to try something, to at least beg for his life, but Cas just stood there, waiting for whatever was going to happen.

“You just gonna stand there?” the man said gruffly.  He wore jeans and a button up, not dissimilar to what Sam and Dean used to wear.  He was clean shaven with messy dark blonde hair. He was middle aged and had a stocky build.  In addition to the gun pointed at him, he also carried a knife at his waist.  Cas guessed this man was a hunter.  

Cas just shrugged. “What would you like for me to do?”

The man narrowed his eyes at him.  “Don’t get smart with me.  I’m the one with the gun.”

“So I’ve noticed.  Are you here for a chat or can I go ahead and make a fire?  It’s a bit chilly in here,” he said conversationally, taking a glance around while rubbing his hands together.

The man just stood there for a second.  “So that’s it?  You’re not gonna put up a fight?  The great Angel of Death is just going to lay down and take it?  I expected more.”

Cas sighed.  “Would I be right in assuming I ‘hurt’ someone you loved?  I was wondering how long it would take for someone to catch up with me,” he said wearily.

The man’s face grew angry and red.  “You took her from me!” he yelled.  “You took my little sister!  Why? She never did anything to anyone,” he said more softly.

Cas took a moment to answer, thinking back.  “When was this, if I may ask?”

“Six years ago you killed her.  We were in an accident.  A deer ran out in front of us.  It was dark and raining and I tried to get away…hit a tree.  It took me a few minutes to come to, but when I did…I saw a figure bent over her.  There was a light and by the time I got out of the car, they were gone and she….” He paused and sniffed.  “That was you and you killed her!  You took her life away.  She was engaged.  Had her whole life ahead of her and you robbed her of it!”

Cas remained silent, let the man get his anger out.  After a while of silence, he spoke.  “Yes. I remember her.  She was a beautiful spirit.  Such a short life, but she had a good one.  She—“

“SHUT UP!  SHUT UP RIGHT NOW!  Don’t talk about her like you knew her!” he screamed, the gun in his hands shaking.

“But I do know her, just as I know you.  Her death destroyed you.  You blamed yourself.  But more so, you blamed me.  You heard about the Angel of Death online and eventually became a hunter.  You devoted your life to finding me and getting revenge. Is that about right?” he said calmly.

“Who are you?  What are you?”

“It really doesn’t matter. If you want to kill me, go ahead,” he said simply.

“What?!  No.  I want to know why you did it!  What was she to you?”

“She was suffering.  I only meant to take her pain away.  It was her time.  It wasn’t my place to restore her when she was destined to move on.  Is that satisfactory?” “You were trying to help her?  Why should I believe you?”

Cas shrugged. “Believe me.  Don’t believe me.  I don’t care.  I simply made it my mission to save people from suffering.  I didn’t want others to feel what my friends did.  I failed them.  The least I can do is help others.”

The man just stared at him. “Friends?  What friends could a creature like you possibly have?”

“I’m not a creature. I’m an angel of the Lord.  And my friends died many years ago.  They were hunters like yourself.  They were the very best.  Saved the world a few times,” he said proudly.

“What kind of bull is that? No one saves the world.  Except in those stories everyone likes to tell.  You know, those made up stories about those brothers.  The Winchesters.  Sa--”

“Yeah, Sam and Dean,” Cas interrupted, a fond look on his face.  “My friends.  My family. It’s been too long.”

The man laughed.  “You mean to tell me that they’re real?  Man, you’re crazy.  Next you’ll probably tell me that your name is Casteel.”

“It’s Castiel, actually. No one’s called me that in a long time.”

The man’s smile fell. “You’re not saying those stories are actually real…like they happened for real…” he trailed off.

“Oh, yes.  They were very real.”

“Like,” he stopped to think, “Sam jumping into the pit or Dean taking the Mark of Cain?” he said, nearly laughing.  

“Yes.  Poor Sam was soulless for a while after that.  And that Mark was nothing but trouble.  But we finally got it off.  It was actually the beginning to repairing God’s relationship with his sister.  It worked out quite nicely.”

The guy sputtered. “God, like God God?  And his sister?”

“Yes.  He has a beard.  His name is Chuck.  Nice guy,” Cas stated.

“Man, you must be losing it. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“If I’m losing it, then how did I know all that about you and your sister?”

“Maybe you can read my mind or something.”

Cas paused, thinking. “Well, I could, but that would be quite painful.  I’m a celestial being.  I just know things about people.”

“If you’re so important, why don’t you smite me, then?”

Cas shook his head. “I have no reason to want to hurt you. You are grieving.  I understand that all too well.  I have been grieving for 172 years.  Besides, your gun wouldn’t hurt me.  You cannot kill me.  And if you tried, I wouldn’t stop you.  I have nothing to live for anymore,” he said seriously.

“You don’t want to help people anymore?”

“I’m tired, Ethan,” he said, then hesitated.  “Is it alright if I call you that?  I know you didn’t formerly introduce yourself.”

“Look, man, this is weird. I don’t know what to think.”  

“Then don’t,” he said, sliding an angel blade from his coat sleeve.  He handed it to Ethan.  “This will do the job.”

Ethan set down his gun and took it, looking it over in confusion.

“It’s an angel blade. It will kill angels.  And demons, too.  It’s very useful.  It’s all yours, just please give me this mercy.”

“Wait, you want me to kill you?” he said incredulously.

“Yes.  I have wished for death for such a long time.  Spending an eternity in the Empty will be preferable to this existence, I think.”

“Yeah, but…what about…”

“Didn’t you come here to kill me?  Wasn’t that your mission, your purpose in life since your sister’s death?  Then kill me, please!” Cas nearly shouted.

“But this isn’t what I’d expected.  This isn’t—“

Cas reached out and grabbed the man’s shirt collar in a strong grip.  “I killed your sister.  Avenge her!”

The man pulled back, wrenching off Cas’s grip.  “But, but you didn’t, you…”

“PLEASE!” Cas said emphatically.  “I have tried so hard to keep going.  Maybe helping people like your sister was my purpose like Jack said, but I can’t do it anymore!  I’m done! I need to move on.  The pain doesn’t ever go away.  I can’t stop replaying that night.  I need peace.  I need for it all to be over.  Help me like I helped your sister, Melanie.  Like I’ve helped so many others.  Put me out of my misery.  Don’t tempt me with death and not give it to me.  Please,” he begged.  

Ethan stood there, clenching the angel blade in his hands while he looked over at Castiel.  He noticed for the first time how haggard he looked, how pain seemed etched into his very bones.  Whether he really was who he said he was, this was a man who had been through a lot.  This was someone who had reached his limit and then some.  

He was right; he did come here to kill this man.  Even if this stranger was trying to be good and helped Melanie, he was asking for mercy now.  It didn’t feel right.  It felt less like revenge and more like killing someone who didn’t deserve it, but yet was begging for it.  

He felt something deep down, something he’d never felt before.  He didn’t think that he’d be able to just walk away, knowing he’d allowed this man to continue suffering.  His pain may not be something he could see, but this man was broken. He told himself it’d be like killing a deer that got hit by a car.  Sometimes it can’t be saved, but it shouldn’t have to suffer any more.  

“Okay,” he said quietly, getting a good grip on the strange weapon he’d been handed.

He saw the angel’s shoulders relax as if a heavy burden had been lifted from them.  He looked lighter, freer.  

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.  

The man just nodded, unable to form words.  He stared at the angel, unsure.  Cas nodded back at him, silently telling him to go on.  He got closer, held it to the angel’s chest.  Closing his eyes, he thrust it through his chest.  The angel fell, the blade falling from his hands and clattering to the floor.  

He looked down and saw Castiel, dead, the shadow of his wings spread out majestically on either side of him.  He would have regretted what he’d just done if he hadn’t glanced at the angel’s face. Although his eyes were hollowed out, there was a trace of a smile lingering on his lips.

*

Castiel found himself standing on a black surface.  He shuddered to think of an eternity stuck in the Empty, such a dark place, but he didn’t care.  It was better than being on earth and being reminded of those he’d loved and lost.

He looked up and his breath caught in his throat.  Surrounding him was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  This was surely not the Empty.  This was something wonderful.  All around him were trees and grass, all so green and lush and beautiful.  Flowers of every color were scattered around the tall grass, and the sky above was the bluest blue he’d ever laid eyes on.  

Stretching in front and behind him was an asphalt road.  He didn’t know where it led, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to find out.  Stepping forward, he followed it, taking in the sights and sounds all around.  The wind blew gently and the birds sung from the treetops.  

He didn’t know how long he walked.  It seemed long, but it wasn’t unpleasant.  Eventually, he came upon an old, two story home.  It had a nice wrap around porch with a swing, and each window had shutters on either side.  These details were great, but they weren’t what took his attention.  Sitting in the driveway was a pristine, black, 1967 Chevy Impala.  Baby.  

Cas ran to the front door, his blue tie flopping over his shoulder.  He pounded the door and rang the bell, feeling completely overwhelmed and impatient.

The door swung open, revealing Dean standing there, a beer in one hand as the other gripped the door.

“Hey, look who decided to show up!” he said, beaming.  

Sam approached, and his face lit up when he saw who it was.  “Cas!  You made it! You’re just in time, too.  We were just about to get started and everyone else is already here.  Just waiting on you, man,” he said, reaching out to engulf the angel into a hug.  

When they finally pulled apart, Dean reached out for a hug as well.

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” he said when they parted.  He stepped into the foyer and Dean closed the door behind him.  “Am I dead?  Where am I? Is this a dream?  Wait, no.  I don’t sleep, do I?” he rambled.

Dean laughed.  “No, you don’t, man.  And yeah, you kicked the bucket.  You’re in heaven.”  

Cas looked at him in confusion.  “But, angels go—“

“To the Empty, I know,” Dean finished.   “Chuck pulled some strings.  You get your own slice of heaven pie!” he said with a grin.

“This is our heaven, me and Dean’s,” Sam explained, “but ours are all connected.  I’m sure you have a house down the road.  Everyone else does.”

“Everyone else?  But…you seemed to be expecting me?  You knew I’d come?” he questioned.

“Nah, just a hunch. It just felt right.  Kinda how this place works or something,” Dean said. “Anyway,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “how ‘bout some grub?  I’m starving!”

Dean led the way to the backyard.  There was an insanely long picnic table set up with all kinds of food anyone could imagine. It was mostly barbeque, but with lots of sides as well, along with some fresh lemonade.  There was a general bustle as those seated around the table served themselves and passed platters of food down the row.  Cas realized that everyone was here: Mary, John, Bobby, Charlie, Kelly… everyone who’d ever made an impact on the Winchester’s lives.  

He saw Jody and Donna chatting away and Kevin helping himself to some fried rice, among others.

“Cas!”

Cas turned toward the voice. “Jack?!”

Jack ran over and gave him a big hug.  

“It’s been a while, Castiel. You took a while to get here,” Jack said.

“Well, it wasn’t really up to me, was it?  Besides, I’m here now, and that’s all that matters,” Cas answered.  Jack nodded with a big smile.

“Felix is here, too!” Jack said happily, indicating the red and black snake he had draped over his shoulders.  Cas heard Dean mumble something about snakes and heaven before walking away toward the food. “He’s much happier here, like I’d hoped he’d be,” Jack continued.

“Yes, he does appear quite content,” Cas replied.

“Well, come on, Cas. Dig in,” Sam said before joining his brother at the table.

Castiel took a moment to take it all in.  All his friends and loved ones were here in one place.  This really and truly was heaven.  Cas took his seat beside the Winchesters and dished himself up some food, more than happy to savor his slice of the heaven pie he was blessed to share with those he called his family.

[spnsisimagines]

Too Young Pt. 2

Warnings: Swearing, angst. Think that’s it? Characters: Sam & Dean Winchester, Sister!Winchester Reader, Castiel Summary: Two years after finding out you’re Castiel’s soulmate, you find yourself in a different body. (don’t judge my summaries) Reader’s Age: 18 years old Word Count: 2337

Y/N: Your Name Y/N/N: Your Nickname PoV: Point of View

A/N: So uh funny story this took a completely different turn than what I had anticipated but I actually kinda like it. Not a fan of the ending as usual? Might do a part 3 if y’all want it. Enjoy!

Part 1

Eighteen years old. You were now eighteen years old. Your birthday was a few weeks ago. It has been two years since the whole soulmate fiasco, and no one has brought it up since.

You and your brothers were on a hunt; an angel hunt to be exact. It was all going reasonably smooth until an angel called in some back-up and now you're sitting on the ground, tied to poles. Fun, right?

"Where is he?" An angel pressed an angel blade to Dean's throat.

"I don't know," Dean hissed.

"Yes, you do! Where is Castiel?" The angel's voice grew with anger.

"We haven't heard from him in weeks!" Sam chimed in, hoping to get his attention away from Dean, but more importantly, get that blade away from Dean's neck. "We don't know where he is!"

"Call him," The angel walked over to Sam. "You," he pointed the blade at Dean, "Call him, or I slit your brother's throat,"

"He won't answer-" Dean was cut off.

"DO IT NOW!" The angel shouted, pressing the blade to Sam's throat. You instinctively tensed and inched forward, trying to get free.

"Cas! Get your ass down here!" Silence followed Dean's words as you all waited. "I told you, he won't answer,"

"You're just not trying hard enough," The angel walked away from Sam.

"What do you even want with him anyway?" You asked. The angel rushed over to you, placing the blade to your throat.

"He's killed so many of my brothers and sisters; he doesn't deserve to live anymore," The angel applied pressure to the blade. You felt slight pain and liquid running down your neck.

"Get away from her!" Dean shouted, jerking against his restraints.

The angel smirked. "Why didn't I see it before?" He flicked the blade away from you. "Call Castiel again, but this time, mention his little soulmate," Dean hesitated, "Do it, or she dies," he took a step towards you.

"Cas! Cas, damn it, you need to get down here, or Y/N is gonna get hurt! You, bastard, get down here!"

Nothing.

The angel sighed, "Well... Can't say I'm not disappointed... but I guess if I can't kill Castiel, then I'll kill the next best thing," the angel lifted the blade and it went flying towards you. You gasped as you felt it dig into your chest.

"NO!" Dean screamed. You gasped for air, your head moving back and forth as you tried to speak. You looked up at your brothers who could do nothing but watch. Sam and Dean were shouting, but you drowned it out. Your eyelids began to get heavy; your head slowly went back as it rested on the pole behind you, darkness surrounding you.

"Brittany, breakfast's ready!"

You shot up, gasping. You looked down at your chest, seeing nothing but a black tank top. Your heart pounded against your chest as you steadied your breathing, placing a hand on the spot on your chest where you once saw an angel blade. You looked around the room; the walls were painted a pastel purple, there was a desk and computer, a vanity,  and in the corner was a dog bed with a Siberian Husky sleeping soundly.

You stood up and rushed over to the vanity, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You didn't recognize the face staring back at you. You touched your face before pinching yourself, making sure you weren't dreaming.

"Brittany! Come downstairs and eat! You'll be late for work!" A woman's voice yelled.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I'll be down in a sec!" You replied, slightly jumping at the voice that came out of your mouth. You looked at the walls, trying to make sense of what was going on. Above the bed was a big letter B. "Brittany..." You whispered. You jumped back when you felt something touch your hand, relaxing when you saw the dog you had noticed early. "Hey, boy," you let him sniff you before rubbing his head. "Wanna tell me what the hell is happening?" You sighed and began walking downstairs, looking all over for any clues.

You stopped at the bottom of the stairs, seeing a bench with mail on it. You grabbed it and began looking through it. "Minnesota?" You whispered.

"Expecting something?" The same woman's voice spoke. You dropped the mail and jumped back. "Oh! Sorry, dear, I didn't mean to scare you," she smiled, "Come on, you have to eat before you go to work."

You took a deep breath, "Right, give me a minute," she nodded before walking away. You looked down by your side to see the dog. "Any time you wanna tell me what's going on would be great," you knelt down, searching for the dog's collar in his thick fur, "What's your name anyway?" You searched for the tags, "Nico, huh? Well, Nico, I don't think I'm your owner," you scratched behind his ears, "I still love you anyway," you chuckled to yourself.

You slowly walked into the kitchen; you kept expecting something to pop out at you. "What time am I working?" You decided to try and get more information.

"It's on the calendar, sweetie," the woman didn't turn around as she put pancakes onto a plate.

You looked around, trying to find said calendar before your eyes landed on it hanging on the fridge. You walked over, "What's today?" You asked.

"Tuesday," she replied.

"Uh, the date?" You turned slightly to see her walking into what you assumed was the dining room.

"Thirteenth!" She hollered from the other room.

You took a minute to walk around the kitchen before making your way out. "Uh... Mom?" You hesitantly spoke as you joined the woman in the dining room. She looked up at you with a smile. "If I asked you what you think my favorite part of my job is, what would you say?" You tried to trick her into giving you hints at what your job is.

Her eyebrows furrowed together. "Well, I would probably have to say-" before she could finish, you were pushed to the side.

"Move!" A little boy ran into the room, followed by a slightly older boy who both sat down at the table. The younger one was around eight, and the older one was maybe thirteen.

"Justin! Daniel! You do not run in this house, how many times do I have to say that?" She scolded the two young boys before standing up. "Honey, why don't you just go get ready, and I'll pack a small snack for your breakfast in with your lunch?" She patted your shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Why are you staring at us, you freak?" The younger of the two snapped at you. You squinted your eyes. You assumed they were your brothers, making you the oldest. You just rolled your eyes, mumbling a 'rude' before walking back upstairs.

You shut your door, but not before letting Nico in. You went into your closet, looking at all the clothes. Your eyebrows furrowed together as a look of disgust took over your face. The fashion sense that this 'Brittany' has definitely does not match yours. The closet was full of bright colors, skirts, short-shorts, and a few jeans. You picked out a shirt that was dark blue and grabbed some skinny blue jeans. You rummaged around, trying to find something that was at least a little familiar, finally finding a red flannel that was tossed in a pile of clothes. You put on the flannel as you walked out of the closet, your eyes landing on the phone on the bed.

You grabbed it, silently cheering that it had fingerprint-ID. You searched through it for a few minutes, trying to find any other clues. You sighed before opening up the dial-pad. You entered the number that you know so well and pressed the phone to your face, hearing it ring. You waited for a few minutes, but no answer — not even a voicemail option.

"Of course," you mumbled, looking over at Nico. "Anything? Trust me; a talking dog will be the least surprising thing to happen today," Nico merely wagged his tail in response to the attention.

You grabbed the keys that sat on the bedside table and headed downstairs.

"You're wearing that to work?" Your 'mom' asked.

You looked at her as you opened the door, "Uh, casual... Tuesday?" You shut the door behind you. You clicked the button on the car fob and saw a slug-bug light up. Your shoulders slouched as you stared at what Dean would call an abomination. You took a deep breath; you just had to make it to Lebanon, Kansas.

...Sam and Dean's PoV...

Your brothers sat in the library. All they could think about was your lifeless body laying in your bed. It had been a long, quiet, drive back to the bunker.

"We should burn her," Sam finally broke the silence, his voice cracking slightly.

"No," Dean quickly replied. He stared at the glass of whiskey in his hand.

"She deserves a hunter's funeral," Sam wasn't sure if he wanted to get into this right now, but he pressed on.

"She deserves to be alive," Dean said through gritted teeth.

"Dean-" Sam stopped when he saw a familiar angel appear behind Dean. Dean noticed the sudden pause and followed Sam's eyes. Both brothers shot up, Dean's glass falling to the floor as he pinned the angel to a pillar.

"What the hell, Cas!?" Dean shouted, his emotions finally coming out, "She's dead because of you! We called you! We needed you, and you weren't there! Where the hell were you?!" Dean pulled Cas slightly forward before slamming him against the pillar.

"I'm sorry," Cas spoke, guilt was laced throughout his voice.

"You're-" Dean let go of the angel, running a hand through his hair. "Why don't you tell my dead sister that! You had a chance to save her! That damn angel wanted you, Cas! He wanted you, and my little sister paid the price! Now tell me, how do you plan on getting her back, hm?"

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of the bunker door opening made him stop. All three men went into the war room.

"Who are you?" Sam pulled out his gun and pointed it at the intruder.

...Your PoV...

"Whoa, Sammy, chill," you chuckled, forgetting you looked completely different.

"How do you know my name?" He took a step towards you.

"Guys, calm down! It's me, Y/N," you told them.

Before you could react, Dean rushed at you, pinning you to the wall with a gun in your face. "Like hell you are. Y/N is dead. Her body is in her room. I carried her there. I don't care if this is some sick game, but if you don't tell me why the hell you're here then I will blow your damn brains out," you had never been more terrified of your brother. You've seen him threaten people, but you had never seen the look in his eyes when he does — the pure anger, hatred, and truth behind those bright green orbs.

"Dean," Cas chimed in, "It's her,"

Dean looked over at Cas, "And why the hell should I trust you after what you let happen?" Dean's voice was so low it gave you chills.

"Dean," Sam spoke this time, setting a hand on his shoulder. Dean's eyes stared holes into you. You really saw him contemplating shooting you right then and there. If it weren't for Sam's hand being on his shoulder, Dean would've pulled the trigger. Dean huffed and walked away.

"I know I don't look like me, but I swear it is. I don't know what happened, okay? I woke up in a very purple room somewhere in Minnesota with a strange woman, a dog, and two very rude little boys," you paused, "But I swear, this is me,"

"It's true. One of the things about soulmates is that their soul lives on. If the vessel is compromised, then the soul finds the nearest suitable vessel to occupy." Cas informed everyone.

"I'm not buying it," Dean spun around, and you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

You stared at him for a moment, "Do you remember when I was seven, and I fell off a swingset? I scraped my knees up pretty badly. I remember you kneeling down next to me. I was bawling my eyes out, and all you had to do was wipe them away for them to stop coming. You told me that I had to be strong, but that it was okay to cry every now and then. You helped me get up, clean myself off, got me all patched up, and I went right back to playing. I remember when I was eleven, and I fell out of a tree outside some motel room," you smiled at your stupidity, "I went into the motel room, and you asked me what had happened and when I told you, you asked why I wasn't crying. And I distinctly remember me saying, 'Because you told me I have to be strong,'" you held back the tears, "So don't look at me like you don't know me because I know for a fact that deep down, you believe I'm who I say I am,"

Silence filled the air.

"Y/N/N?" Dean's voice was barely a whisper.

"Yeah," you huffed as Dean pulled you into a hug. You instantly wrapped your arms around him.

You two stayed like that for a few moments before Dean let you go. You smiled at him before turning to Sam who engulfed you into a hug. Sam placed small kisses on the top of your head.

Sam let you go, and you turned to Castiel. "Y/N, I-" You cut him off.

"It's okay, Cas. No hard feelings. Just... Please tell me you can get me back in my body," you closed your eyes. You knew the answer, but you had hope.

"I'm sorry, I can't..." Castiel looked at the floor. You nodded.

Dean placed a hand on your shoulder, "We'll find a way, we always do," he said. You smiled at him, knowing that no matter what body you were in, you'd always find your family.

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[waywardnerd67]

Nerd By Day, Superhero By Night

Summary: (Y/N) loves her job as a Librarian in the small town of Lawrence, Kansas. When a new IT guy begins working there she quickly learns that there is more to him than meets the eye. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Fluff/AU/Superhero!Dean/Nerdy!Dean Word Count: 5381 A/N: This is an AU based off THIS POST. As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

(Y/N) was sitting at the Circulation Desk at the Lawrence County Library. She was scanning in the latest books dropped off for return. Her manager, Clara, had been in her office with the newest hire to the library for the IT position.

“(Y/N), have you seen the new guy yet?” Her co-worker, Maggie asked.

She shook her head, “No. He came in during my lunch. All I know is his name is Dean Winchester.”

The girls looked up when they heard Clara’s office door open. (Y/N)’s heart nearly stopped when a tall, lean man in a button-down shirt, tie and black rimmed glasses walked out behind her manager. She swallowed hard as they approached them.

“(Y/N), Maggie this is Dean, he will be our new IT guy. Dean, Maggie is a part-time college student interning here and (Y/N) is our head librarian for this branch.” Clara said as he stuck his hand out to them both.

As soon as her hand touched his an electric currently ran up her arm. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” His baritone voice had her stomach doing flips.

“I-It’s nice to meet you as well. If you need anything, please let me know.” Her cheeks flared as she stumbled over her words slightly.

He smiled bashfully at her as he let go of her hand. She down noticing some bruising on his arm he was trying to keep covered by his sleeves. He followed Clara, giving him a tour of the library and where his office would be.

“Oh. My. God.” Maggie said her brown eyes wide, “He’s gorgeous! Kind of a nerd, but damn he makes it look hot.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes going back to scanning books, “He is very good looking and there is nothing wrong with being a nerd.”

Maggie scoffed, “Usually nerds are inexperienced, and I like a man who knows what he is doing.”

“Let’s get back to work and then you can go out to find you an experienced man.” Maggie walked away to put books back on the shelves laughing quietly.

By six o’clock, (Y/N) was ready to go home, unwind and dive into her newest book. She waved goodbye to Maggie and Clara. As she walked to her car in the back of the building, she noticed Dean getting into a beautiful black Chevy Impala. He was loosening his tie and talking on his phone to someone.

She could not help the sinking feeling that he could be talking to his girlfriend or boyfriend on the phone. She shook her head slightly trying to get rid of the disappointment filling her mind. (Y/N) was almost to her car, when she felt the hair standing on the back of her neck as if someone was behind her.

She stood still for a moment before she hurriedly started to get out her keys. That is when she was knocked from behind hard against a nearby car. Large hands grabbing at her bag as she struggled to keep it on her shoulder while sinking to the ground.

“Give it up bitch or I swear I will kill you.” The man sneered as she looked up at him.

As the man lifted some kind of long object in the air to hurt her with he suddenly went flying through the air. The assailant was just as surprised as she was when he landed a few feet away. She stood up slowly seeing a tall, intimidating person standing near her.

“I believe that bag belongs to the lady. I suggest you run before you make me do something I might regret.” His voice was deep and raspy sending chills down her spine.

The man scurried away as fast as he could without a word. (Y/N) looked back towards the hero who saved her, but he vanished before she could thank him. She looked all around noticing Dean must have left before the man attacked her. She took a few deep breaths as she sat in her car trying to calm down.

The next morning, she walked into work still a little dazed from the previous night. Maggie came running up to her waving the morning paper in her face, “Have you seen this?”

“Good morning to you as well. And no, I haven’t because you keep waving it like a lunatic.” (Y/N) said a little snippy.

Maggie rolled her eyes, “Lawrence has its very own superhero.” She said excitedly laying the paper down on the circulation desk.

Before (Y/N) could look at the article, she noticed Dean coming in with his hands full of coffee and a box of pastries. “Do you need some help, Dean?” She asked walking over to take the coffees from his hands.

“Thanks. I figured… well, since I’m the new guy I would bring everyone some morning… uh treats.” The way he stammered over his words and his cheek turning pink was adorable.

Maggie quickly grabbed a cup and a Danish hopping up on the desk, “Ah, yes we do accept all forms of sucking up and flattery here.”

He chuckled as (Y/N) looked down at the front page seeing the man who had saved her. “Who is the Hood?” she asked picking up the newspaper.

“He’s the superhero I was talking about. He showed up a couple of weeks ago and has been taking out criminals left and right.” Maggie explained as (Y/N) skimmed through the article.

The picture was blurred at best but showed a tall man with leather pants and dark red jacket with his hood up. He wore a full face mask that was bright red and military black boots.

“He kind of looks like a Red Hood knock off.” (Y/N) commented as Dean choked on his coffee.

He coughed a few times turning bright red as Maggie slapped his back, “You okay there big guy? I know, (Y/N)’s nerdiness knows no bounds. Who the hell is Red Hood?”

(Y/N) smirked, “He is a character in the Batman comics. He was originally a Robin, but then supposedly died by Joker and came back to life by the Lazarus’s Pit. He comes back to his hometown of Gotham taking out the bad guys who Batman refuses to kill. He’s an anti-hero, not good but also not bad.”

She looked up to see Dean staring at her in awe. She felt her face burning as Maggie scoffed, “Seriously, this is why you do get any dates. You need to put down the comics and pick up some lipstick.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes then heard Dean say softly, “I don’t know, I think it’s kind of hot when a woman reads comics.” He bit his lip nervously and excused himself to his office.    

“Did he just call you hot?” Maggie asked as stunned as (Y/N) was.

She shook her head, “No way. Now can we get to work.” Maggie jumped off the desk walking back towards the reference section to clean off the large tables before the library opened.

The was going well as families came in and out for their books. (Y/N) held a crafting class in the late afternoons for elementary ages so their parents could browse kid free for an hour. She noticed Dean standing there watching her closely. She looked up to see him smiling at her as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

When the library was getting ready to close a tall man with long chestnut and a large canvas jacket on. “Can I help you?” (Y/N) asked as he nodded.

“I’m looking for Dean Winchester.” He said looking around.

(Y/N) nodded, “Okay I will go get him…” just then Dean came walking up with his computer bag over his shoulder, “Never mind, did he throw up the bat signal or something?”

He chuckled nervously, “Something like that. This is my younger brother, Sam. Sam, this is (Y/N).”

Sam waved, “Nice to meet you. Dean we really need to get going.”

He nodded glancing over to (Y/N), “Have a good night, (Y/N).”

“Bye Dean.” She said watching the brothers walking away talking adamantly.  Maggie bumped her shoulder into (Y/N)’s.

“Who is that tall drink of water?” she asked as her eyes traveled up Sam’s body.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Can you control self around any man?” Maggie shook her head skipping off to the far end of the library to start shutting everything off.

Maggie and (Y/N) walked to their cars together after closing the library. She waved to Maggie as she drove away.

“Did that creep last night hurt you?” (Y/N) let out a yelp as the voice from behind her scared her.

She turned around seeing the man from the newspaper article. He was wearing his mask again and standing a few feet from her. “No, luckily you were there to save me before he could.”

“Good.” He turned to leave when (Y/N) called out to him.

“Wait, who are you? Why are you here in Lawrence? I mean, it’s not like we are Gotham City.” She asked moving closer to the man.

He laughed shrugging, “Every town needs a hero even if they are more like Ivy Town.”

(Y/N) laughed softly, “So even superheroes like reading comics.”

“Where do you think we get our inspiration from. There is true evil in this world Miss (Y/L/N) and I’m just a man who wants to save as many people as I can.” He said then turned away pressing his hand to his mask. “Got it. I’ll be there in five.”

“Someone in need of saving, Mr. Hood?” She asked.

He simply nodded taking off down the street disappearing from sight. (Y/N) sighed getting in her car. She started giggling uncontrollably, “So this is what Lois Lane and Catwoman feel like when the hero leaves them to save the world.”

Over the next few months, (Y/N) took to reading every article she could about The Hood which was the name the press came up with. The library was having electrical and plumbing work done so it was close for the day. (Y/N) and Maggie decided to invite Dean and Sam over to (Y/N)’s for movies and dinner.

(Y/N) and Dean had become good friends at work. They often would talk about the latest horror movie that had come out or new books coming into the library. She was nervous about seeing him outside of work and especially in her home.

“Are sure we couldn’t just go out somewhere?” She asked.

Maggie shook her head as she put more beer in the refrigerator, “No way. (Y/N), your house is meant for entertaining and parties. You just have no friends and now you do.”

(Y/N) sighed trying to swallow down her anxiety as she picked up a few of things on the kitchen table. Around five o’clock, there was knock on the door and she felt like her stomach was going to jump from her body.

She opened the door with Maggie right behind her smiling when she saw Dean. “You know you don’t have to dress like you’re going to work whenever you are around me.” She joked.

Dean was in a white, button-down, short-sleeved shirt with dress slacks and a tie. His cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, “I know, I was… uh… working a freelance job and had to come straight here after it.”

(Y/N) could tell he was hold back something. She shook it off handing them each a beer and walking over to continuing cooking. She noticed Maggie sitting close to Sam as his arm rested on the back of her chair.

“What are you making? It smells great.” Sam asked taking in a deep breath while closing his eyes.

She smiled proudly, “Chili, corn beard, bacon stuffed jalapeno poppers and lemon strawberry cupcakes with cream cheese icing.”

Dean sucked in a breath his lips parted slightly, “Did you say bacon stuffed poppers?”

“Yeah, I did. I hope that is okay?” She asked doubting herself. The cooler weather of fall had made her want to cook the first pot of chili for the season.

Dean’s smile erased any doubts from her mind, “It sounds amazing. Sammy and I haven’t had a home cooked meal in forever. We’re not exactly domestic.”

The girls laughed and easily the four of them fell into conversation. They found out that the brothers were born in Lawrence but after their mother died their dad moved them around a lot. Always being on the road throughout their lives, they decided they wanted a place to settle down in and they decided to come back to their hometown.

“What made you decide to go into IT?” (Y/N) asked as she placed the last dished on the table for dinner.

Dean looking longingly at all the food, “Uh… well it was just a safe career choice. What about the two of you?”

“Well I’m getting my Master’s in English Lit right now. I’m just interning at the library as extra credit. I want to travel the world and write novels or articles for online publications.” Maggie explained as Sam hung on to every word she said.

Dean turned his attention to (Y/N), “And you?”

She chuckled shrugging, “I have a degree in teaching, but I have worked at that library since I was sixteen years old. I just can’t bring myself to leave it because I love being surrounded by books.”

The brothers were digging into the food when Dean said, “You know you can do both. You can still be surrounded by books and teach. From seeing some of your classes at the library I think our schools are missing out on having you teach the next generation of doctors, lawyers and IT guys.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks burning as she bashfully smiled over to Dean. The rest of dinner they talked about random topics and the boys praised (Y/N) repeatedly for her cooking. Afterwards, they made their way to the living room where Dean had brought over his favorite movie.

“Hatchet Man?” (Y/N) questioned as he put the DVD into the player.

“Yep! By far, my favorite movie of all time. Time to slice and dice.” Dean said sitting on the chair next to the (Y/N)’s spot on the couch.

About twenty minutes into the movie, Sam and Maggie disappeared from the living room claiming they did not like horror movies. (Y/N) did not want to think about what they were really doing within her house. She got up getting Dean another beer and some popcorn scooting over to the other side of the couch.

“If you move over then it will be easier to share the bowl.” She mentioned as he nodded moving over next to her.

(Y/N) glanced over during the movie to see Dean scrunching up his nose to push his glasses up. She watched as his lips mouthed every line from the movie. His olive eyes were focused on the screen wide with excitement.

Her body was buzzing with nervous energy sitting next to Dean. The feelings he brought up in her were foreign to her. The way she always wanted to be as close as possible to him and the urge to reach out to hold his hand. (Y/N) found herself slowly moving closer to him on the couch as the movie continued. That is when she noticed he was also moving himself closer to her and hope filled her heart.

Suddenly, Sam came out into the living room his shirt untuck and hair messy. “Dean, we… uh need to leave. Something came up at home.”

Dean looked slightly worried, “Alright Sam.” He glanced to (Y/N) softening his eyes, “I’m sorry we have to rush out. I promise we can watch your favorite movie next time and without the party poopers.”

She nodded smiling, “I hope everything is okay.”

Dean got up following Sam to the front door. Maggie and (Y/N) watched them quickly get into Dean’s car and take off down the road. Maggie placed her arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder, “I think I’m in love.”

“You mean in lust.” She chuckled as they cleaned up the living room.

Maggie left soon after leaving (Y/N) alone with her own feelings unknowing how to deal with them. Finally, around midnight she could not stand being inside anymore. Putting on her running clothes and a hoodie she grabbed her phone along with her earbuds deciding to work off some of the energy keeping her up.  

She did not normally like running in the middle of the night but lying in bed wide awake thinking of Dean was no better. She started off towards the library which was two miles from her house. The cold wind nipped at her blistering skin. Her running playlist pushed her to run harder.

She knew the policy at the library was co-workers could not be in romantic relationships. That on top of Dean’s comment of being able to teach while surrounded by books had her considering a huge change for her life. When she reached the library, she sat down on the stairs leading to the main entrance breathing heavily.

“You shouldn’t be out here this late.” Her eyes snapped to see the familiar red mask and dark leather outfit.

“Too much on my mind and running helps.” She explained standing up and walking towards the city’s hero, “Busy night?”

He shook his head, “Not anymore. Took care of a few issues near Kansas City but for tonight Lawrence is safe.”

The Hood turned to walk away, and she reached out suddenly touching his arm, “May I ask you something?”

“Sure, but I may not answer?” He said stepping closer to her.

As if her brain had no control over her hand, she reached up touching the side of his mask. The feelings Dean brought up in her did not even compare to the ones the masked man was able to make her feel.

“Why do you keep coming back to me? Am I in danger or…” she let her question drift off as he moved away slightly.

He stared down at her as she gripped his leather clad arms feelings the lean muscles of his arms. “You’re not in danger and I want to make sure to keep it that way. I… I feel a connection with you, but what I do,” he paused stepping completely away from her, “I can’t have any attachments.”

He popped his hood on turning his back to her looking over his shoulder, “You should stay clear of me.” With that he took off leaving her slightly speechless.

“What if I don’t want too.” She whispered.

Over the next several months, (Y/N) started looking into making a few changes along with hanging out with Dean more often outside of work. When she was with him, she would forget all about The Hood. They had so much in common and she loved spending time with him.

“Dean, can I ask you something?” she asked as they were walking towards the movie theater after work. They were going to see the latest Halloween movie after Dean insisted he treat her to it.

“You just did.” He chuckled.

She rolled her eyes, “Funny. Um, I feel kind of awkward asking this, but we’ve been hanging out a lot and it’s been a lot of fun.”

Dean nodded in agreement smiling at her, “I think so as well.”

(Y/N) took a deep breath stopping just outside the theater, “Is there something between us here or am I just reading too much into this?”

He nervously fidgeted with his glasses looking away from her. She could feel her heart dropping as the silence grew between them. “(Y/N), I like you a lot but…”

She shook her head not wanting to hear what he was going to say. Tears were threatening to fall down her cheeks and she did not want him to see her cry, “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have asked. I think… I think I’m just going to go home. Goodnight Dean.”

(Y/N) started to walk away quickly hearing Dean calling out to her. Her vision blurred from tears streaming down her face and her chest was burning from the sob she was holding back. When she finally stopped looking around not recognizing where she was.

She pulled her phone out to call Maggie and she cursed as she found her phone was dead. She pulled her coat around herself tighter walking back towards what she thought was the direction she came from.

“Hey beautiful, what are you doing in this neighborhood?” She turned to see someone standing behind her.

She started to back away slowly, “I’m just waiting for a friend to pick me up. He’ll be here any moment.”

For each stepped she took away from the man he would step closer to her. “Why don’t I just take you where you need to be and forget about your friend.”

(Y/N) felt her back press against a wall of a building as the man blocked her from moving placing his hands on the wall behind her. Panic was now spreading throughout her body as she wished she had never left Dean’s side.

“Step away from her.” A deep threaten voice came from behind the man caging her in against the wall.

The man started chuckling, “Hoodie Boy. You’ve been going around hurting a lot of my friends lately and I would love to repay you for that.”

“(Y/N), go now.” The Hood said looking straight at her as she ran past him. She hid behind a nearby parked car watching as the two men lunged at one another.

The Hood blocked every punch the man threw at him with ease. Never before had (Y/N) been impressed with anyone fighting but The Hood made it look as easy as breathing. She moved slightly knocking over a few empty cans next her. Looking up she saw The Hood staring at her and the man saw an opportunity to take a shot at him.

“WATCH OUT!” She screamed.

It was too late the man’s fist connected with The Hood’s mask knocking it completely off. It slid right to (Y/N) who grabbed it quickly off the ground. The Hood shook his head slightly dazed. That is when she noticed the smaller eye mask over his eyes. His hair was wildly sticking up in all directions as he got off the ground.

As he stood up he squared his shoulders and marched over to the man with a fierce determination. With two forceful blows to the face the man crumbled to the ground and The Hood tied his hands along with his feet together.

(Y/N) jogged over to him, “Thank you.” She said breathlessly.

He kept his face turned away from her, “You know you shouldn’t run away when you don’t know where you’re going. You could have been hurt or worse. You need to be more careful.”

She sucked in a shaky breath, “I-I didn’t mean too. I was… wait how did you know I was upset and ran away?”

“I have to go.” He said picking up the man and tossing him over his shoulder. Without another word he was gone. She followed him as best she could to the end of the street where he got onto a motorcycle with the man propped up against him.

She he sped by, she caught a glimpse of his face and she gasped, “Dean.”

The next morning, she walked into the library with The Hood’s mask in her bag. Walking into Dean’s office, she looked around seeing pictures of him and his brother from various states along with childhood pictures of his family. He had a few collector items on his desk like a figurine of Hatchet Man and an exact replica of his car.

There was still an hour before anyone else would be there as she sat down at his desk. She opened his top drawer seeing a variety of office supplies. When she opened the next drawer is when she found what she was looking for. It was the identical eye mask that The Hood had been wearing confirming her suspicions.

Quickly, she closed the drawer and left his office. He had called in for the day just reassuring (Y/N)’s thoughts that Dean Winchester was The Hood. That very revelation kept her distracted at work all day to the point that Clara told her to go on home.

“We’ve got this (Y/N). It’s not that busy and you don’t have any classes. Go on home and we’ll see you tomorrow.” She nodded grabbing her things.

She sat in her car for several minutes holding the menacing red mask in her hands. Tossing it onto the passenger seat, she drove off in the opposite direction of her house. Within fifteen minutes she was parked outside a beautiful two-story house in Lawrence. Walking up to the front door she knocked, and Dean answered wearing jeans, t-shirt and flannel shirt along with his black rimmed glasses.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” he asked stunned.

She held up the mask, “I think we need to talk.”

Dean took the mask as she walked inside. The Winchester’s house was beautiful and not at all what she was expecting for two bachelors to be living in. She turned towards him crossing her arms over her chest, “Start talking.”

“How did you figure it out?” he asked setting the mask on his kitchen table sitting down.

“I saw your face as you drove pass me last night. I think I would recognize the face of the guy I’ve been falling for the last few months even with an eyes mask and make-up.” (Y/N) sat across from him seeing a smirk.

He reached up taking off his black rimmed glasses, “Well I guess I don’t need these around you.”

Disappointment hit her seeing him take off the one thing she was attracted to the most, “Did you really think wearing glasses would not make people put two and two together?”

“I figured if it worked for Superman then why not me.” He chuckled then grew serious seeing her face, “Honestly, I never figured I would lose my mask. It’s specifically fitted for me and until last night I had never lost it in a fight. Thank goodness, Sam insisted I wear that eye mask underneath or the douchebag could have made me from the first night I took him down.”

(Y/N) gave him a curious look asking, “First night? You’ve taken him out before?”

“Yeah, the guy who pushed you against your car was the same guy from last night. The police in this town are mostly corrupt and let the criminals go. That is why Sam and I are here.” He explained.

Sam entered the kitchen cautiously, “Hey (Y/N).” he said nervously.

“Hello Sam, so are you the sidekick?” she asked as he glared at her while Dean’s booming laughter filled the room.

Sam narrowed his eyes on his brother, “No I’m not. I’m the brains while he’s the brawn. I run this operation from here and send him where he needs to kick ass.”

“So, you’re Alfred to his Batman.” She said purposely trying to get a rise out of him.

Sam gawked at her then smiled, “I’ll take that as a compliment. Please don’t tell Maggie. She knows nothing of this and I really don’t want her too.” He paused, “Yet anyway.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” (Y/N) said looking directly at Dean.

Sam rocked on his feet awkwardly, “Okay then. Well, I will just leave you two to chat.” He went back down through the door that must have led to the basement of the house.

“So?” Dean asked looking down at his hands on the table.

“So, what now? I know your big secret and now you know mine. Where do we go from here?” she asked a dull ache beginning to form in her heart.

Dean chuckled, “What, that you have a massive crush on me?”

She gave him a pointed look, “Funny Winchester, very funny. I’m trying to be serious here. Do you rec con my brain, so I never knew you and move far, far away? Do we just pretend to ignore one another like nothing ever happen?”

He stood up reaching for her hand, “Come with me.”

She hesitantly took his hand her heart racing as she followed him upstairs to an empty room. Dean stood holding her hand in the middle of the room. “When Sammy was six months old our mother burnt on this ceiling in his nursery. My dad found her and gave Sam to me to get out of the house. Then six months after his twenty-third birthday, his girlfriend Jessica burnt on the ceiling of their apartment at Stanford.”

(Y/N) looked up to the ceiling seeing absolutely no evidence of a fire. “What happened?” she asked as he turned to face her.

“A demon killed our mother and his girlfriend so that Sam would fall in line to lead an army of demons from Hell. Of course, my dad and I would never let that happen and a couple years later I killed that very demon after our dad had sacrificed himself for me.” Dean paused for a moment.

She looked up at him, “Go on.” She said reassuringly.

For the next couple of hours, Dean told her all about their lives leading them back to Lawrence and fixing up their childhood home as a base for their superhero career. They sat on the floor in the room, Dean’s back against a wall while he pulled her into his side placing his arm around her.

“Dean, why are you telling me all of this? Not that I mind because I would love to know everything about you, but why now?” she asked looking up at him.

He bit his lip nervously, “I like you. I like you a lot and this life is lonely. Being a hunter and now a vigilante is dangerous for me, for Sam and for anyone who gets close to us. It’s always only been the two of us and since we’ve been living here we both found someone we want more with.”

His olive eyes were shining as the afternoon sun was starting to set. She smiled up at him, “Found someone, huh? Then you should probably be telling her all of this and not me.”

“Ha. Ha. Funny.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face gently trailed his fingers down her cheek. She leaned into his touch watching as his lips moved closer to hers.

“Dean, hey… Oh! Sorry.” Sam said walking into the room.

Dean growled, “What Sam?” he asked through his teeth.

“There is a domestic disturbance a few miles away. You better suit up.” He said chuckling as he left the room.

Dean rested his forehead against hers, “I have to go.”

“I know.” She whispered as they got up walking back downstairs.

“Come on, I’ll show you where everything happens.” Dean said leading her down into the basement.

Sam was sitting in front of three large monitors clicking on a keyboard. There were large TVs with news feeds and traffic cams constantly playing. On the other side of the basement was a training area with weapons for Dean. Then she spotted his outfit hanging up on a door.

Dean was grabbing it disappearing behind the door. As she looked around, he stepped back out full dressed and her eyes traveled up his body. A smug smile spread across his face as he walked over to her. She was holding his mask in her hands.

“So, which do you prefer? Nerdy by day or superhero by night?” he asked.

She reached up running her hand up the back of his neck and pulling his lips to hers. “Both.” She whispered against them as she pulled away handing him his mask. “By the way, keep the glasses look. Nerds are hot.”

His cheeks were as red as his mask as he slipped it on. Walking out a back door that led to where his motorcycle was parked. (Y/N) stood behind Sam as he watched Dean’s helmet camera as he drove down the street.

“(Y/N),” Sam said as she hummed her response, “Welcome to the family business.”

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[vinylackles]

family history

word count: 3,000

requested by: anonymous

summary: when two random kids find the bunker and come asking for help, Dean’s ready to kick them to the curb until he learns their last name... Winchester

to avoid having lots of abbreviations for names, I’m gonna go ahead and name the kids!! Kai is 15 and Charlie is 5! Also sorry about switching POVs so much, I just wanted to tell different aspects of the story!

all my works || request imagines here

It was quiet in the bunker besides the hum of the air conditioning and the sound of Dean’s pen scratching notes into his journal. Sam was out on a supply run - your stash of summoning ingredients was running dangerously low, which left you and Dean in the library for the afternoon. In between hunts you often enjoyed peaceful days like this, reading through the newspapers looking for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. 

That was interrupted harshly by two rather loud knocks on the door. You and Dean exchanged a look across the table. Sam had a key, and you weren’t expecting any visitors. You both stood up, pulling your guns from your back waistbands and heading for the door. 

KAI’S POV:

“Now remember, it’s 20 years ago. Aka, they have no idea who we are. So don’t say anything to them, okay?” He warned his younger sister. 

“I just want mommy and daddy back,” Charlie crossed her arms, half in annoyance and half to cover her shiver. 

“Okay, but just don’t say anything. They’re here, Dad always talked about this place. He took me once before you were born,” Kai said. As if on cue, the door opened slowly and out stepped Dean. He looked much younger than the Dean that he knew, but it was the same man alright. 

And behind him, no doubt with another gun was his mother, Y/N. She was looking at him in confusion.

“Hi. Um, were lost and we need a little bit of help. Could we come in?” Kai put on his best innocent face, but he knew his dad, and he knew he wasn’t going to let anybody into the bunker, no matter what.

“Sorry, no can do, but if you’ll just let me get my car I can take you kids to the nearest police station and get you some help.”

“Oh. It’s just that we came all the way from Poughkeepsie, we dropped everything and ran and I was hoping that you could help us.” Kai gave the code-word a shot, just to see if it would ring a bell. Before he could move there was a gun pointed directly at him.

“How the hell do you know what that means? Who are you?” Dean demanded.

“Ease up,” Y/N’s voice came from behind him.

“You use it with Uncle Sammy sometimes when you go hunting. It’s a secret code,” Charlie chimed in from beside Kai, proud of herself for remembering the word. Kai groaned, thinking that she blew the whole thing.

“Uncle Sammy?” Y/N asked, stepping forward. She was still staring at Kai as if he was the most peculiar thing that she’d ever seen. 

“Yeah, Daddy’s brother Sam.”

“What’s your name sweetheart?” Y/N bent down, looking at the girl very closely. She had the same color hair as her mother, and many of the same features too. 

“Charlie. Charlie Jo Winchester.” She said proudly. 

Y/N froze, and it took her a few moments to compose herself before she stood back up and looked at Kai.

“And your name?”

“Kai. Well, technically I’m Samuel Kai Winchester, but I go by Kai. Having two Sam’s would have been confusing I guess.” He scratched the back of his head a bit, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation.

“Nice try. Who sent you here? Who told you about this place?” Dean wasn’t letting up, though he had lowered his gun a bit.

“You did. I’m your son. You know it’s possible, you went back twice in time to help Grandma Mary,” Kai said.

Dean’s gun dropped down fully now, and Kai breathed a sigh of relief.

“C’mon, lets get you guys inside, it’s cold.” Y/N murmured, taking Charlie’s hand and leading them into the bunker.

READER’S POV:

“What’s your favorite cartoon?” You asked, still unsure of how to handle the whole situation.

“Scooby-Doo is cool! Daddy watches that one with me sometimes,” Charlie beamed up at her from underneath her blanket. You found an episode for her and clicked it on. She was curled up in a ball in Dean’s “man-cave” recliner, totally content.

“You can leave her there, she’s actually pretty low maintenance,” Kai reassured you. He still looked nervous, probably because of the death stare that Dean was still giving him. 

“So... you’re my kid?” Dean finally broke his silence, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.

“Well, technically I’m both of your all’s kid, but yes.”

“Prove it. Where was I born?”

“Lawrence, Kansas.”

“What car do I drive?”

“67′ Chevy Impala. Black. And you call it baby all the time, which I still find super weird, by the way,” Kai said, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Dean, he’s telling the truth. How else would he have even found us here, this place is totally off the map. What happened? How did you end up in our year?” You interrupted before Dean could ask anything else. 

“I think it was some spell. My parents... well, you guys I guess... had to go out to help Uncle Sam on a hunt. Charlie was messing around in stuff she wasn’t supposed to, and my best guess is she got into one of the curse boxes downstairs. Next thing I knew we were here, and I begged for some money for a bus ticket to get as close as we could to the bunker. We walked the rest of the way. I figured if there was any chance of finding you guys, it’d be here,” Kai explained. 

“You were smart to come, if there’s anywhere that would have an answer it’s probably the library. We’ll start looking, Dean call Sam to get him back here to help. We’ll figure it out,” you reassured him, patting his shoulder. When he looked up at you, it was like you were looking right into Dean’s eyes. You could see pieces of yourself in his features too - not as much as his sister, but your DNA was definitely there. You couldn’t help but trust him. 

“Thank you. I know this has got to be really weird for you all,” Kai said.

“How many years back are you anyways?” Dean asked.

“20. You all look a lot younger, that’s for sure,” he smiled.

“Alright, easy kid,” Dean rolled his eyes, turning and heading for the library. Kai turned the opposite way, walking over to find his sister fast asleep in her chair. 

“Is there somewhere closer to the library I can lay her down? We traveled for two days, she’s exhausted.”

“You can put her in Dean and I’s room.” 

Kai scooped her up, carrying her very carefully down the hall and tucking her into bed. You could see how much he cared for her in just those few moments, and it warmed your heart. You had an odd sensation within you to care for these children, even though they technically weren’t yours... yet?

You left her to sleep, leading Kai to the library instead of dwelling on the oddity of the whole situation. Dean was finishing his call with Sam, phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he pulled books off the shelf that he thought would be useful. 

“Well, I hope you like reading.” Dean gave a half-hearted smile, dropping the books on the long table. 

“Lore I can deal with. English class, not so much,” Kai chuckled, picking a book out of the stack and sitting down in one of the chairs.

“You read lore?” Dean’s expression changed ever-so slightly, and if you didn’t know him so well you probably wouldn’t have caught it. But you did know him, and you knew that little slip was because the one question he hadn’t asked yet was seemingly answered - Kai was a hunter, just like his father. The one thing Dean never wanted for his kids.

“In my free time sometimes. The journals are more interesting than the books though. You brought all the important ones from the bunker to the house,” Kai shrugged, leaning back and propping his feet up on the table - just like Dean did when he read. 

“So, what’re we all hunting these days?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit as you picked a book as well.

“Last one you two were on was a wraith in Nevada I think.”

“Where were you and Charlie?” You couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t seem uncomfortable any more, so you didn’t mind to push the envelope a bit.

“Oh, we were home. I don’t hunt. You two don’t hunt much either unless it’s within a few states or Uncle Sam needs help. I just read about all your all’s cases incase something were to happen. I used to not care as much, but Charlie doesn’t know how to shoot yet so I starting reading up a bit more once she was born.” 

“I never thought we would hunt if we had kids,” Dean mumbled. You were surprised at his honesty.

“You didn’t, for a long time actually. Not until I was about 8, and then I found your journal cause I’m a nosy little shit. You had to explain it to me then, everything, and I wanted you out hunting monsters because if you weren’t hunting them, I figured they were hunting us. Seemed to be enough for you all. You stopped again when Mom was pregnant with Charlie, and you only got back into it last year,” he explained.

“Well, I’m sorry you have to deal with all this,” Dean said. You kept your mouth shut.

“Don’t be sorry. I think it’s badass. So does Charlie,” Kai offered a smile, sighing a bit as he opened the book and began to read. 

Dean watched him for a moment, smiling at the young man in front of him. He could see a lot of himself, not just in his features, but in the way he carried himself. It gave him an odd sense of pride. 

The next three hours were spent sifting through book pages, to no avail. It was hard to look for a solution when you didn’t even know what the problem was. 

“Kai, let’s go check the archives, theres a bunch of hunter’s journals down there,” you suggested. He stretched back in his chair before getting up to follow you down the hall.

DEAN’S POV:

It was odd, seeing essentially a younger version of himself walk down the hallway after his girlfriend. He shook his head, trying to focus on the book in front of him. It probably wasn’t going to have anything - hell he wasn’t even sure that the book was on the right thing. Where was his nerd brother when he needed him? 

He believed Kai. He really did - he knew how frustrating it was to be back in time talking to his own mother and trying to convince her of who he was. But he still wasn’t sure how exactly he was going to help the kid.  

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of small footsteps coming down the bunker hallway. With her hair in a disarray and one hand rubbing her eye, Charlie came down the hallway rather slowly, obviously disoriented. 

“Daddy?” Her voice was small, and it wasn’t until he heard the tremble in it that he realized she was crying.

Something squeezed at Dean’s heart - he couldn’t explain it. This wasn’t his kid, not really. But he was still her Dad. She didn’t know any better, and he could see in her eyes that all she needed was him right now. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean stood up, coming to meet her. He was about to crouch down to her when her arms went up in the air, reaching for him. Of course, he obliged, lifting her up into his arms.

She rested her head on his shoulder, her soft hair tickling at his neck. Her tiny arm was wrapped around his neck, little fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. She was a spitting image of Y/N, the most precious little girl he’d ever seen.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, rubbing a hand along her back. 

“Bad dweam,” she said, hugging Dean a bit tighter. 

“Tell me what happened,” he encouraged, going over and sitting down in one of the chairs.

“There was a bad monster in my room, and I woke up and didn’t know where I was.” She hugged him a little tighter, and he wrapped his arm around her protectively.

“You’re safe now, it’s okay,” he soothed her as best he could, but her little body was still tense. 

“Daddy, are you mad at me?” She asked quietly.

He took her underneath her arms, leaning her back so he could look at her. Taking his thumbs, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. She looked up at him with bright green eyes that matched his perfectly.

“Now why would I be mad at you?” 

“I found a box in the basement, and I took it to show Kai, but I opened it and then we were in a field all of a sudden. I didn’t mean to!” Her bottom lip quivered as she spoke. Dean could remember the few times that Sam had admitted to doing something wrong when he was this age, and how mad he had gotten. He took it as a bit of a second chance.

“You didn’t do it on purpose?” He asked.

She shook her head back and forth quickly.

“Then I’m not mad. Can you tell me what the box looked like?” 

“It was purple, with gold stuff I think,” she said, rubbing at her eyes again.

“Okay, that’s good! That’s really good. Are you still tired?” Dean asked.

She shook her head again, yawning in the middle of it.

“Uh-huh, sure you’re not,” Dean chuckled, standing back up with her in his arms. She laid her head back down and he began to pace, lulling her back to sleep. She stirred for a bit, but she got heavier against him as she finally gave in a went back to sleep. 

As if on cue, Sam came through the door.

“Shhh!!” Dean cautioned, reaching up to cover Charlie’s ear as he came down the stairs. Sam’s eyes grew wide as he dropped the summoning ingredients off on the table. 

“Is that.. her?” He asked.

“No, it’s some random girl I found in the basement, yes it’s her,” Dean rolled his eyes, continuing to bounce her a bit. 

“She looks exactly like Y/N...” Sam seemed a bit mesmerized, looking at her as if she was a doll as she slept on his brother’s shoulder.

“Got my eyes though,” Dean smiled a bit at the thought.

“So that’s my niece..... that’s so weird man.”

“Congrats Uncle Sammy,” Dean teased. “She did tell me how she got her and her brother sent back to our time though. Said she opened some purple box with gold writing that we had in the house. Ring any bells?” 

“Oh shit, we have that curse box here!”

“Language,” Dean warned, earning an eye roll from his brother.

“If it sent them 20 years back, we could do a reversal spell on the box and open it again and it should send them 20 years ahead again.”

“Should? I’m gonna need a little more than that Sam, these are my future kids were talking about here.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll make some calls. You wanna find the box?”  

“Little occupied,” Dean murmured quietly, nodding towards Charlie.

“Right, I’ll go find Y/N and Kai,” he said, heading down the hallway and out of sight.

After a few presumed phone calls and another hour, Sam, Y/N and Kai returned from the archives with the box and a few spell ingredients. 

“Triple checked, it’ll send them back to their year. Kai, you ready?” Sam asked. The young boy nodded, walking over to Dean and his sister.

“I can take her. Don’t want her to get left behind, that’s for sure. You’d kill me,” he chuckled. Dean passed the little girl off to her brother, surprised at how sad it made him.

“Bye guys. I guess we’ll be seeing you very soon,” Y/N smiled, though she seemed unsure of what to say.

“Thanks for helping us, and for believing me,” Kai said, moving in front of the box.

“Anytime kid. You take care of your sister, okay?” Dean said, patting him on the back. He nodded, looking towards Sam.

“Alright, well unless we all wanna get blasted to the future we should probably go to the other room. Safe travels,” Sam said, leading the way down the hall. Dean gave one last look at Kai and Charlie before ducking into the room and closing the door. The three of them stood there, hearing Kai’s muffled incantation followed by an odd whizzing sound.

Y/N opened the first door, and sure enough the pair were gone.

20 YEARS LATER

Kai landed hard on his feet, the jolt waking Charlie up. He dared to peek an eye open, relaxing completely as he recognized the living room of his house. 

“We made it home! Thanks bubba!” Charlie cheered, hugging her brother again. 

“Anytime. Just, no more pretty boxes okay?” He chuckled, hugging her back. He was so relieved he barely even heard the thudding of the footsteps down the hall until they were in the room. 

Dean and Y/N came stumbling in, their eyes wide in panic.

“Oh thank god!” Y/N exclaimed, running over and pulling both of them into a hug. Dean was next, wrapping his arms around all of them the best he could, so thankful to have his kids back in his arms.

“Where were you all?” Dean asked.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story....”

[cole-winchester]

I Will Fail You - Chapter Three

John Winchester / Original Character - Lindsey Winchester

Father / Daughter Fic 

Dean and Sam have a younger sister.  She was in the crib that night of her first birthday.  Yes, I changed it from Sam to Lindsey and from the 6 month date to the first birthday when Yellow Eyes came.  Story follows her POV after Sam has left for college.  

Tag List: @haleyea

Chapter Three

Lawrence Kansas

November 2, 1987

The corner street lamp flickered, briefly illuminating the man standing in the shadows. Unseen by the unsuspecting neighborhood, he had the perfect view of the house. His yellow eyes caught the light before it plunged them into darkness again. The light in front of the house began flickering, making the name on the mail box flash momentarily.

The Winchesters.

“Sir, the others have been wondering,” A second man, this one with black eyes, stepped up next to him in the shadows. “Why wait for the first birthday with this one?”

The yellow eyed man stepped forward towards the house and turned back to face him. “Are you questioning my actions?”

The man shuffled and straightened his shoulders. “Never, I am simply the messenger, sir.”

The yellow eyed man ran his tongue over his lip and turned to him. “Can you not feel it? The power radiating off of her?” He held his hands out and the street lamps flickered once more. “The others I’ve made will make good soldiers…but this one.” He clicked his tongue and hissed. “She’s the one. The one who will free hell and rule the world along side me.” He turned his gaze back to the second story window of the house down the street.

John walked down the hall, his three year old son on one hip, and his other rambunctious seven year old boy glued to his leg. He found Mary leaning over their baby’s crib, whispering to her. “Ready to tell your baby sister goodnight?” John bent down so little Sammy could slide down his side.

They approached Lindsey’s crib on their tip toes like they did every night. She was staring up at them with her big beautiful eyes. John lifted Dean over the side of the crib first.

“Night Lindz.” Dean said, kissing her forehead. John set him down as Mary lifted Sam.

“Night Windsey.” Sam kissed her little button nose.

John leaned in and gave her a quick kiss too.

“Alright, boys.” John said as he moved to the doorway. Little Sammy running to his father, squealing and gripping his pant leg.

“You got them?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, I got ‘em,” he smiled. “Let’s go boys. Goodnight Lindsey.” he said before leaving. Mary smiled fondly as John lead them to their room, letting her hand brush lovingly across her husband’s shoulder as he left. Their babies were growing up way too fast. She leaned her head against the door frame, staring in the nursery at her little angel.

One year old already. Where had the time gone? Her Lindsey was going to be running along and beating up her brothers before she knew it. “Goodnight, my love,” She said as she flicked off the lights.

Lindsey laid in her crib, the mobile above her head playing a soft lullaby, and her clock tick-tocking away…until it all stopped, plunging the room into heavy silence.

Mary laid in bed, a burst of static from the baby monitor rousing her from sleep. She rolled over reaching for her husband, it was his turn after all. “John.” She whispered, feeling blindly for him in bed. She clicked her bedside lamp on to see. His side of the bed was cold, he hadn’t been there in a while, if at all. Sighing, she slid out from under the covers and padded out to the hall.

Lindsey made another noise. “I’m coming baby…” she whispered and yawned, shuffling down the hall.

Peering around the corner into Lindsey’s door, she saw John’s silhouette against the moonlit window. He sometimes had trouble sleeping, this wasn’t the first time she’d found him up watching the kids sleep. “John, is she hungry?” she whispered.

He simply turned and whispered, “Shhh.”

Mary shrugged. “Okay,” and turned back to the bedroom. The hall light started to flicker as she approached it. Curious, she walked to the wall lamp and tapped the glass shade. It continued to wildly flicker until it calmed after a moment.

Sounds from downstairs distracted her from her sleep riddled thoughts. She padded down the stairs, hearing the sound of voices from the television. Confused, she stepped down the stairs and peeked around the wall. Her heart nearly stopped in horror as she gripped the railing. If that was John snoring in his chair…

“Oh my God,” she breathed, taking off up the stairs, “Lindsey!” she called, “Lindsey!” She burst into the nursery, to confront the man standing over her daughter’s crib. He turned, and Mary gasped in horror, “No…”

“Oh yes, sweetheart.” his eyes flashed to yellow. “You interrupted.”

Mary screamed as loud as she could to get John’s attention, her heart panicking. All of a sudden she was pinned against the nursery wall and then everything faded to darkness.

John woke to a start at his wife’s cry. “No!”

Her cry was full of fear. John thought the worst…that they’d lost Lindsey somehow. SIDS hardly hit this late in infancy… it couldn’t be. “Mary!” John called, nearly tripping as he raced up the stairs.

“Daddy?” Two sleepy voices called as he passed their room.

He turned to look at his sons. “Stay there!” he said sternly. “Mary!” he called, turning back down the hallway, she still hadn’t answered him. John threw open the nursery door, and it bounced back loudly against the wall. Lindsey made an upset cry at being startled. John quickly walked to Lindsey’s crib; she smiled as she looked up at John’s face. Finally able to breathe, he smiled back, “Hey sweety. You okay? Where’s mommy?” he asked, Mary had still cried, he had to find her.

What the hell? He wondered as something dripped onto the bedding, barely missing Lindsey’s forehead. He went to touch it to investigate what it was, when three more drops splattered onto his hand. It was warm and the coppery smell hit his nose like smelling salts.

Blood…

He looked up and felt his heart fall to his feet. Mary was on the ceiling, mouth open in horror and eyes staring blankly back at him. A giant gaping wound slashed across her belly, her blood quickly soaking through her nightgown.

“Mary!” he called.

She didn’t answer, didn’t even scream as flames spontaneously burst around her and proceeded to consume her body. “No!” John screamed again as he fell backwards to the floor.

Regaining himself, he scooped Lindsey out of her crib; the poor thing was screaming and crying. Once he entered the hall, he found Sammy and Dean holding onto each other, right where he left them in their bedroom doorway. He placed Lindsey in Dean’s arms.

“Get your brother and sister outside, don’t look back! Now, Dean, go!” Dean nodded and quickly took off down the stairs, guiding his younger brother. John went back to the nursery to see if there was any chance of saving Mary. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. He stared up at the ceiling, his arm up trying to shield his eyes from the heat and the light of the flames.

Dean and Sam stopped in the yard and looked up at Lindsey’s window, they could still hear the roar of the fire; Lindsey made a noise and wiggled in Dean’s arms.

“It’s okay Lindsey.” Dean said, Sam scooted closer, fingers tugging at his pajama top.

“Where’s daddy?” Sam whispered.

John appeared moments later, scooping all three kids into his arms at once.

“I’ve got you.” He said, a little breathless, and ran them to the safety of the Impala parked across the street. They had barely made it to the road before the windows of the house exploded.

The little family sat on the hood of their car. John holding his one year old in his arms, and his seven and three year olds huddled close on opposite sides, wide eyes staring at the police and firemen trying to salvage what was left of their house.

John tried to hold in his trembling and anger. His children needed him to be strong for them. He pressed his lips to his youngest’s head, grateful that she was too young to remember the images from this night.

Once day broke in the morning…he had work to do.

* * * *

Present Day

Nov 1, 2005

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Bobby’s

2200 hours

“No one has heard of a demon doing something like this. I’ve got nothing.” Bobby took his hat and ran his hand through his thinning hair before placing it back on his head. He returned his gaze to the shattered man standing across the table from him.

“There’s gotta be something! Did you call Caleb?! Pastor Jim?!” John yelled as he paced in front of the table in Bobby’s library, throwing his arms to his sides in frustration.

“Dammit, John!” Bobby slammed his fist down on the table. “You think I would slack on this!? That girl is like my own flesh and blood!” Bobby pointed a finger at Lindsey’s almost lifeless body on the leather couch a few feet from them. “And I’ll be damned if I didn’t try every last option to get her back! No matter how mad it sounds!” Bobby fumed at John, holding his gaze in a deadly stare before John relented, dropping his head, his shoulders sinking.

“I’m sorry, Bobby-” John placed his hands on his hips.

“Damn right you are!” Bobby barked as he crossed to the liquor cabinet, retrieving a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “That girl would kick your ass up one side and down the other if she heard you hollerin’ at me like that.” He plopped the glasses down and poured the whiskey, handing one to John, a small smirk on his face as he met John’s gaze.

John smiled slightly at the thought of his daughter ripping him a new one…but the smile never reached his eyes. His daughter was a good soldier like Dean. Did what she was asked and expected to do. But she was the first to voice an opinion when something was out of line. Not like Sam, who just didn’t agree with John’s mentality to begin with, Lindsey understood the job that needed to be done. “Hell yeah she would.” He took the glass from Bobby and downed it, their smiles disappearing.

Bobby spoke after a few moments, breaking them from their thoughts.

“Jim’s working on some things, but from the sounds of it…” his gaze traveling over to Lindsey. “We just gotta wait for her to wake up.”

Dean pushed himself off of the door frame and stepped out of the room to the kitchen, retrieving another beer from the fridge. He popped the top and fished his phone out of his pocket, dialing his brother for the fifth time that night. He listened to the rings, praying that Sam would answer… but the voicemail picked up yet again. Dean sighed and closed the phone once more, returning to the library. He had just leaned back up against the door frame when Lindsey inhaled a deep guttural gasp and shot upright on the couch.

My eyes shot open and I bolted up to a sitting position. My breaths coming in ragged frantic gasps.

Lindsey…You can’t fight this.

“No!” I screamed, slamming my hands over my ears.

“Lindsey! Hey.” John moved from the desk and sat next to me on the couch, placing his hands on my shoulders.

I frantically reached out to him, gripping the front of his shirt. My eyes wildly scanning my surroundings, trying to locate where I was. The Demon’s sadistic laugh echoed in my ears. “No! Get the fuck away from me!” I screamed and fought my father’s arms.

“Baby, you’re safe! I’m here! We’re at Bobby’s!” John tried reaching through to me. “He’s not here, sweetheart.”

Searing pain shot through my head and I cried out in agony. Digging my nails into John’s shoulders I collapsed into his arms as my head felt like it was splitting in half.

You’re mine, Lindsey.

“He’s in my head!” I flailed against my father’s grasp.

“Hey! Look at me!” John grabbed my jaw and forced my head up to face him. My breathing coming in short gasps as I frantically tied to ground myself. I felt a weird sensation and something trickle down my upper lip from my nose.

“Shit!” John swore as he reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose, laying me back down to the couch.

Dean spun and raced into the kitchen, retrieving a cloth from a drawer and bringing it back to John. John placed the rag against my nose and applied steady pressure to try and stop the bleeding. “Lindsey, just relax baby.”

I clenched my eyes shut as the white hot pain continued to pulse through my head. I tried opening my eyes to focus on my father and gather myself. His face flashed and morphed into the Yellow Eyed Demon’s and he grinned down at me.

“Stop!” I screamed. I lashed out with my arms, clawing at him as I kicked and fought to get free of his grasp. The Demon’s evil laugh echoing all around me. “No!”

Bobby rushed over and took hold of the rag so John could get a hold of my arms to pin me down. John sat his weight on my legs to keep me from kicking him or injuring myself.

“Baby it’s us! You’re safe!” His voice was pained as he held me to the couch as I continued to struggle.

All of a sudden it felt as if the room pitched and began spinning around me. John felt my muscles stop resisting him and he released my arms, taking the rag from Bobby to check my nose bleed.

The blood flow had lessened and the searing pain in my head had subsided slightly. I opened my eyes and the room continued to spin. A fierce wave of nausea washed over me. My stomach gave a warning heave as I gripped onto my father’s arm, digging my nails into his skin attempting to get the room to stop spiraling.

“Dean, I need a bucket!” John yelled over his shoulder, but Dean was already hurrying into the kitchen. He returned with a large pot and Bobby grabbed it from him as John turned me on my side just as my stomach violently heaved again, emptying blood and bile into the pot. John gathered my hair and held it out of my face, missing some strands that were plastered to my forehead from sweat.

My body trembled violently as my stomach stopped contracting. The room slowly stopped spiraling around me and the throbbing pain became a dull ache. I shakily eased myself up to a sitting position, my father’s steady hands guiding me.

“Just take it easy, sweetheart.”

Dean stepped over and handed Bobby a fresh wet cloth from the kitchen before taking the pot from him. My body shook as I tried to remain still while Bobby cleaned my face free from the blood. Thankfully, the nosebleed had stopped. Bobby was perched on the arm of the couch to my left, his hand gently rubbing my back in a reassuring manner. He took the cloth when he had finished and he eased off of the couch.

My body still trembling, I just now realized I had a death grip on my father’s forearms. I eased up on the pressure and lifted my eyes to his. He gave me a small smile and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby girl.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I slowly leaned into his chest, tucking my head under his chin.

“What did that bastard do to me?” I whimpered as tears began to fall from my eyes as I buried my face into his shirt.

John wrapped his arms around me and rested his cheek on my head. “We’ll figure this out.” He kissed the top of my head as he shared a worried, pointed gaze with Dean and Bobby.

Bobby returned to the library and handed me a glass of water. My hands were still shaking slightly as I took the glass from him. “What, all of that doesn’t deserve some whiskey?” I said dryly.

Bobby smirked and looked to John, both breathing a sigh of relief that my humor was returning. “Maybe later, sweetheart, all it’ll do right now is dehydrate you more.” John said as he shifted on the couch next to me.

I grunted. “Yeah, but it’ll ease the pain and nerves.”

“Sweetheart…” Bobby began as he leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. “What did you mean by 'he was in your head’?”

I slowly gulped some water to quench the burning in my throat, dropping my eyes to my fingers as they slightly shook the glass, causing small ripples in the water.

“I remember being in the mini mart…” I started, my voice slightly hoarse. “My emotions were compromised. My guard was down. I’m sorry, dad. I shouldn’t’ve-” My lower lip trembled as I looked over at my father.

“Hey.” He pulled me to his chest, resting his chin on my head. “This is not your fault, baby girl.”

John’s heart was tearing apart. He’d never seen his daughter this rattled. They’d all had their fair share of injuries on hunts, but this…nothing like this.

I pulled back after a moment, wiping a tear from my eye before continuing. “I was trying to gather myself when all of a sudden The Demon was standing next to me.” I shakily took another sip of water. “Before I could react, he put his hands on my head and I collapsed.” I paused, collecting myself. “After a few moments, I was in this dark room, like a cellar or something.”

* * * *

“Oh how I’ve waited for this day, Lindsey.” The Demon’s voice echoed in the dark room. I jumped and spun around attempting to locate him.

“Get the fuck away from me!” I yelled into the black abyss. “Where the hell am I?” I turned in circles trying to pin point his location in the room. I stopped when I saw his glowing yellow eyes glaring at me from about ten feet away. My eyes adjusted slightly and I could make out the stone walls surrounding us.

“There’s no need to be scared,” He sneered as he stepped closer to me. “I’m not going to hurt you…unless you choose not to cooperate.”

“Fuck you!” I hissed at him as I took a counter step away from him.

He chuckled. “I love your spunk. I’ve got big plans for you, sweet cheeks.” he paced around me and I continued to counter his movements. “There’s two ways this can go, Lindsey. You can submit to me willingly and it won’t be painful…much.” He shrugged. A hellish grin grew across his face and in a split second he was standing directly before me. “Or you can fight the transition…and that, I can assure you, is very, very painful.” His yellow eyes were blazing with lust as he reached up and played with a strand of my hair. “Either way, you’re mine now. We can rule the world, Lindsey. You have no idea the power that lies within you. Join me.”

I jerked away from his touch and spat in his face. “I’ll never belong to you, you cowardly piece of shit!”

The Demon closed his eyes for a moment and wiped his face with his hand. He opened his eyes and with a sadistic smile as he licked my saliva from his hand. “Very well.”

All of a sudden I was thrown back and slammed into the stone wall behind me, my arms pinned outstretched. I cried out in frustration as I fought the invisible hold.

Only now did my fear creep up to the surface. His blazing yellow eyes gazed hungrily at me as he stepped up to me. He leaned in and inhaled deeply at the base of my neck and closed his eyes. He moved to stare directly into my eyes. “Your smell of fear is intoxicating.” He traced a finger along my jaw and down my collar bone. “Care to change your mind and join me willingly?” He asked as he cocked his head to the side.

I tried glaring with as much anger as I could muster in that moment. “My father is going to slaughter you.” I seethed through clenched teeth, arms fighting against The Demon’s hold.

He grinned and laughed. “Oh, honey, I can’t wait to see him try.”

He swiftly retrieved a knife from his pocket and drug it across his palm, his fermented blood seeping from the wound. His eyes bore into me as he grinned and placed his bleeding hand over my mouth. I clamped my lips closed as hard as I could.

“Ah ah ah, Lindsay.” He tsk-ed and shook his head. An unseen force pried my mouth open. I screamed against his hand as his blood dripped into my mouth. Fire burned down my throat as my body unwillingly swallowed.

* * * *

I stood up quickly after reliving the nightmare. “I need some air.” I gasped as my breathing quickened and my body began trembling again.

“Lindsey!” John and Dean started after me as I bolted through the kitchen for the front door.

I flung the screen door open and raced outside. I hadn’t taken two steps onto the porch before slamming into a man’s broad chest. His arms catching me as we collided.

“Whoa! Lindsey! Easy!”

Not recognizing his voice in my hysteria I fought against his arms.

“No! Get off me!” I screamed as I clawed at him.

His grip tightened. “Lindsey! It’s me! It’s Caleb!”

Before I could even process his words I placed my hands on his chest to shove him off of me, still not registering who had a hold of me. “Get off!” I yelled as a burst of energy flowed from my palms and shot into his chest. His body flew away from me in the air and landed twenty feet back onto the windshield of his truck.

The crashing of his body shattering the windshield jarred me from my panic. I stood there, arms still outstretched from where they were against his chest. My eyes widened in horror as I realized what had happened. “No…”

“Jesus! Caleb!” Dean rushed off the porch to Caleb’s truck.

Caleb groaned and tried sitting up onto the hood.

“Hey, easy.” Dean stood on the step rail and tire to get better access to him.

“I’ve had worse… Fuck… What the hell?” Caleb held his ribs as he allowed Dean to help him up off of the destroyed windshield.

My breathing was ragged gasps once again as my body trembled; I stared down at my shaking hands…what the fuck was wrong with me?

“Lindsey…” My father’s voice said hesitantly next to me as he placed his hand gently on my shoulder.

I flinched away and screamed.

“Don’t! Don’t touch me!” I spun and faced him. Bobby stood just behind him, shock and apprehension on his face.

“Baby, just relax. We’ll figure this out.” He stepped towards me, his hands outstretched in a surrender.

“No! I don’t want to hurt you!” I turned again towards where Caleb lay. Sobs broke from my chest. “I didn’t mean it! I don’t know what happened!”

I fell to my knees. My hands clenched into fists. Deep sobs shuddering through my chest.

John knelt next to me, wrapping his arms around me, burying his head into my hair. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this. We’ll fix this.”

“What did that bastard do to me?!” I struggled against my father’s hold, but he held me tight to him. Tears streamed down my face. “Why me?! Why?!” I wailed and screamed into the night.

* * * *

November 2, 2005

Sioux Falls, SD

Bobby’s

0700 hours

The house was eerily silent as I sat at the kitchen table the next morning. My knees were pulled up to my chest, my chin resting on them as I uncurled my arms and reached out for my coffee mug.

I was the only one in the kitchen. No one else was awake yet. Dean had taken watch outside my room last night, but even the greatest of hunters fall victim to sleep at times. I hadn’t slept at all, every time I closed my eyes The Demon’s face stared back at me with his sadistic sneer.

I had managed to sneak passed Dean as he slept in the hallway and carefully made my way to the kitchen. I figured a nice hot cup of coffee might settle my nerves and help me stay grounded.

I took a sip of my coffee and reveled in the warmth that soothed my sore throat. I set it back on the table as I heard shuffling and footsteps coming down the hall. I looked up at the hallway as Dean made his way into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Don’t try sneaking around like that.” He mumbled as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

I pulled my knees tighter to my chest. “Sorry. I figured you could use the sleep.”

He placed the coffee pot back on the base and turned to face me. “If anyone needs sleep its you.” He grabbed the back of the chair in front of him and spun it around, straddling it as he took a drink of his coffee. “Did you get any sleep?” he asked, clearing his throat.

I snorted a breath. “What do you think?”

Dean dropped his eyes to the table top. “Yeah, I figured as much.” He placed his coffee down as our father walked around the corner.

“Hey, Lindz.” John said softly as he leaned his hip against the door frame. “How are you feelin’?” His eyes deep with concern as he tried reading my face.

“As good as can be expected, I guess.” I said quietly as I pulled my knees even tighter against me. “How’s Caleb?” I hesitantly met my father’s gaze.

John nodded as he stepped into the room. “He’s gonna be alright. A couple busted ribs and bruises, but nothing he can’t handle.”

I dropped my head as tears stung at my eyes. “I didn’t mean-”

“Hey,” John leaned over the table and hooked a finger under my chin, lifting it to face him. “No one is blaming you. This isn’t your fault.”

I gave him a slight nod and he stood back from me. “Did you get any sleep?” He asked as he crossed his arms, eyeing me before glancing at Dean.

I shook my head slightly. “No…I kept seeing his face every time I closed my eyes.”

John sighed and moved to the fridge. “Alright, well let’s at least get you something to eat. You need to keep your strength up.”

“I’m fine with the coffee…I’m not hungry.” I said as I took another drink, hands clutching the warm mug.

“That wasn’t a question, Lindsey.” John gathered some items from the fridge and moved to the stove, his marine tone coming out. “You need to eat.”

Dean glanced at me and stood to help dad with breakfast.

“Dad, I’m really not-”

John slammed a drawer behind me and leaned his hands against the counter. “You won’t be able to fight … whatever this is, if you don’t have your strength up.” he barked at me, causing me to jump slightly. I felt an energy build up under my skin and before I could react the coffee pot shattered, sending glass and coffee spraying across the kitchen.

“Shit!” Dean hissed as he and Dad whirled around to face me; I shot up from my chair. Tears streamed down my face as I rushed out the front door.

“Lindsey!” John called after me. I made it off the porch passed the Impala and Dad’s truck, towards the rows of salvage cars, my arms hugging my midsection as I allowed the sobs to escape.

I heard my father racing after me.

“Lindz.” He called, softer than he did just before.

“What?!” I spun to face him.

He stopped about fifteen feet away from me. His hands raised like he was approaching a wild animal.

“I’m sorry… Baby, we’re all in this together. I want to kill the bastard as much as you do, if not more! You think watching you go through this is easy on me?!” He dropped his hands and shoulders. “I don’t know how to help you and it’s tearing me apart!”

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to keep control of my emotions.

“That bastard took my wife, your mother! And now…” he paused, sighing and biting his lip. “Now he’s threatening my little girl? And I can’t find anything to stop him?! … It’s killing me, Lindz!”

His lip quivered as he gazed at me, holding a hand out to me. “Lindsey please come back inside. It’s not safe out here. The house is warded…” His face fell and his sentence trailed off as the sky darkened and wind began to howl.

My hunter side kicked in and I bolted as the wind began swirling around us, tearing at our clothes. The lights flickered on the porch and inside the house. Dean and Bobby barged out the door a moment later, guns drawn.

Then I was grabbed, not five feet from my father. I’ll never forget the look of horror and panic on his face at that moment.

My skin pricked up in goosebumps as I felt Yellow Eyes rest his chin on my shoulder as his hands gripped my arms and forced me against him. He inhaled against my neck. “Mmm,” he growled and chuckled behind me. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to will him away and hoping this was a dream.

“Hiya, John.” He called over my shoulder, keeping his body tight behind me so no one would have a clear shot. He gripped my upper arms with both of his hands so I was unable to move.

John’s eyes hardened. “Let her go, you bastard.” Dean and Bobby had moved up behind John at this point, flanking him, guns trying to find a shot on the demon. Their eyes torn with helplessness and anger.

The Demon chuckled and nuzzled my hair by my ear. “Now why would I do that John?”

“She’s got nothing to do with this. This fight’s between you and me.”

He laughed beside my ear, gripping my arms tighter and jerking me slightly.

“Oh Johnny boy.”

A force slammed John against his truck and jerked the guns out of Dean and Bobby’s hands. They stood frozen unable to move.

“I’ve got big plans for your little girl, John.” The Demon chuckled and leaned against my head. “The things I’m going to do…” he inhaled next to my ear. “Oh, John.” He grinned.

John yelled and strained at the force holding him against his truck. “You son of a bitch!”

At this point I knew he was going to take me, there was no way around it. I jerked my head away from him, pulling at his grasp on my arms. “Dad! I’ll fight him! I won’t give in!” Tears escaped my eyes as my gaze locked with my father’s. “I won’t let you down!”

“Take me, you bastard!” John pleaded, struggling against the invisible hold on him. “Just let her go!”

The Demon chuckled. “I don’t think so, John.”

“Dad, I love-”

Lindsey was cut off as the demon disappeared with her. Leaving nothing but a swirling wind rushing around the salvage yard.

The force released John and he stood, stumbling forward towards the spot where his daughter was just moments ago. He staggered and dropped to his knees. Tears falling from his eyes. He knotted his hands in his hair as his shoulder sank. He collapsed to his forearms on the gravel…

“Lindsey!”