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1000roughdrafts · 4 years

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Family Secrets : Chapter Six

Family Dont End With Blood, or Does it?

A/N: reposting cause the other one got deleted somehow :(

Summary: Lured to a house and trapped with a woman calling herself Allanah, you cry out to Dean for help, not realizing that he could hear you let alone goes on a hunt to find you. Meanwhile, Allanah forces you to watch some very painful memories.

Warnings: SPN style violence, mentions of character death from show, angst

W/C: 3.6k

Previous Chapter

"Stop calling me that! I am not your family!"

"Oh, sweetheart," Allanah focuses her empty eyes onto yours. "I'm all you have. You haven't any family left, they're all dead."

When you weaken your gaze, Allanah smiles, "mercilessly, I must add. Do you remember when you found out about Rufus' death? And how painstakingly brutal it was for you to hear of Bobby's?" She pauses to look at your shaking hands, "oh, and you have to remember when Jolie died, and the part you had in it?"

With a wave of her hand, Allanah sends you back in time. Standing in the petrifying cold, you see a past version of yourself and Jolie in the near distance. You want to warn them, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out. In an attempt to run towards them, you send your torso towards the ground. You wiggle your legs in an effort to walk forward and realize you’re stuck, as if you’re cemented into the ground.

"Jolie, this is big," you hear from your past self, as tears slip down her cheek. "There are too many of them. We have to go back, to get other hunters. We need help!"

"Are you crazy?" Jolie steps closer to the past you. "They've killed too many of us. I have to do this," she looks to the ground, then at the door of the warehouse. "For my son," she says looking back up at Past you. "They could move at any moment, which means that we may never find them again. This is our only chance!"

Past you grab's Jolie by the shoulders, "you don't get it, do you? Do you want to be another hunter killed by them? Because that's what is going to happen if we go in there without backup."

Jolie's voice softens, a tear falls from her eyes, "as long as I take some down with me, I don't care."

"Listen to yourself! Please! I'm begging you. We will find another way!"

She shakes her head, "this is the only way." The metallic clink sound feels like a jab to your heart as Jolie rips out her machete and runs for the door.

Your soul merges with your past self, trapping you in a body you hardly even recognize anymore and forces you to watch from the eyes of your former self. Replaying as a third dimensional memory rather than a moment, the body runs after Jolie just in time to see her in the tight grasp of a vampire.

"Oh, look here. She brought desert," he snickers.

"Let her go," you shout.

"Or what?" he laughs, tightening the grip around Jolie's neck.

"Just go, before it's too late for you," Jolie whimpers. The vampire lowers his head to her neck, sinking his teeth into her throat. Jolie's scream echos inside of the warehouse as her blood trickles down her body.

You try to run towards her, but trip, falling to the ground and screaming instead. When you look up, you're completely void of emotion and stand slowly.

“Come on, darling. I don't bite," he laughs. The group of girls behind him giggle as he takes steps towards you. "Two hunters delivered straight to our door, girls. Can you believe it?" He turns his shoulder slightly the face them, then back at you, "this has got to be the most exciting day in quite a while."

"Enjoy it, cause it's your last," you frown, falling numb from the anger as it heats your entire body.

The warehouse shakes with the laughter of the nest. "Seriously? Did you learn nothing from your friend here?"

"I don't care if I live or die anymore. I'd say that makes anyone pretty damn dangerous." Glaring in his direction, you stop fighting the anger and let it take complete control of the body. It beams out of you in a light. You feel a new sense of confidence.

Marching straight for him, you’re immune to his attempts to keep you away and wrap your hand around his neck in a tight grip.

His eyes widen as his hands fly up onto your wrist, while the others swarm to his side. With a wave of your hand, they’re blasted to the ground, dead.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry. I can't bring back your friend, but I-" he peeks at the bodies. "Oh God, I - I can do anything you want," his glossy eyes look back at yours.

"Afraid it's a little late for that." You begin squeezing his neck, softly yet fiercely, building up more strength. The more you think of Jolie, the angrier you become, thus the tighter your grip gets. With an inhuman strength, that grip becomes deadly, ripping his head from his body in a bloody explosion.

It takes you only a moment to realize the mess you’d just caused, but when you do you look down at the blood covering you and around at the nest you’d taken out single handed.

You catch your breath and run back to Jolie, falling to your knees beside her. “I’m so sorry, Jo,” you wail, dropping your head onto her bloody chest.

Against his better judgment, Dean let's Sam drive in an effort to catch some much needed rest. He'd only been out for no longer than an hour before your voice becomes too loud to push away.

Dean... I can't.. "God, Blue. I hear you!"

Sam flinches at the sudden outburst and shifts slightly in his seat, "the bar owner called, he was pretty shaken up. He said Tim came in, was acting different... 'evil'. He said he swore that, for a second, Tim's eyes went black."

"Sounds like we've got a demon on our hands," Dean rubs his eyes.

Sam nods, "and I talked to Garth, he looked into her phone records and guess who was the last to hear from her?"

"Demon boy." Sam nods again. "Is that where we're heading now?" Dean yawns.

Sam clears his throat, inspecting Dean from the corner of his eye, "yep. Uh, it should be coming up." He pulls the car behind a fence, turning the headlights off before rolling to a full stop. "But if you're not feeling up to this-"

"I'm fine," Dean pushes himself out of the seat and to the trunk.

"Seriously, Dean," Sam follows closely behind. "You're sweating. You haven't slept, or - or eaten in two days, and you - your eyes are freakin' red, dude. If it were me you'd have me handcuffed me to the steering wheel by now."

"Good thing I'm the one with the handcuffs then, huh?" Dean smirks, stuffing weapons, salt and holy water into the bag.

Sam shakes his head with a quiet scoff, looking around the neighborhood before taking a step closer to Dean, "I'm serious."

"So am I, Sam." He drops the bag and turns to face him, "I know you're only doing this 'cause you care or whatever, but the only way you're keeping me from gutting that son of a bitch is if you kill me," he yells, pointing behind him at the house. Taking a deep breath, "look man, I can't explain it. This isn't just hearing her thoughts, or-" he pauses, looking at the trees behind his brother.

"Or what?" After a length of silence, he shifts in front of Dean and repeats himself, "or what, Dean?"

Focusing back on Sam, he sighs and lowers his voice into a harsh whisper, "I know everything about her.” The muscled in his face tighten, “everything she knows about herself, anyway. She’s been through just as much as we have, I’d not more and I’ll be damned if I’m not gonna do something about it. Pain or not.”

Dean throws the bag onto his back and walks towards the house. Crouching on their way in, they spit Tim on the couch. Sam wraps an arm around his neck, the inside of his elbow just below his chin with the other hand holding a knife to his jaw. Coming from the shadows and pointing a gun, Dean grumbles, "get up."

As you come out of your past self, you feel your soul rip out of the body. You watch the image of your old self leaning on Jolie's chest getting smaller and smaller until it disappears completely and you are knelt on the floor by Allanah's feet, still crying.

She leans down to your level. "Please, I cant do this anymore," you can barely make out the words through your tears."

"That's when you realized you were more powerful than you thought, remember?" Allanah grips your arm and yanks you to your feet, "isn't that the real reason you gave up hunting? The guilt got to you, didn't it? If only you'd have known you could do that before she-"

"I could have saved her!" Your voice cracks as you yell.

"Oh, honey. You couldn't. The power only manifested in that way because of what happened," she laughs. "Now, you want to know about your parents? Your real parents or whatever." She twists her arms into her hip, "your father died practically the same way as 'papa' - on a hunt." She withholds any and all sympathy, practically singing now, "and oh, wouldn't you know. He was accompanied by Daddy Winchester himself."

Your eyes, full of wrath, dart up at Allanah, and begin to tighten with your fists. "That's right. Azazeal may have started it," Allanah holds her hand to her mouth, snickering. "But John certainly finished it." She belts out a cackle and places her finger to her temple, her thumb facing the ceiling for form a hand gun, mimicking a shot. "Boom!"

—

Dean finishes a devils trap around the chair they've strapped Tim to and throws the can of spray paint into the kitchen. He ambled to the front of the chair, crossing his arms, "where is she?"

"Who?" Tim wiggles around in the rope.

Dean leans in, "you know damn well who I'm talking about."

"You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Tim laughs.

He winds back his arm and slams his fist against Tim's cheek, forcing his head in the opposite direction. "Tell me where she is. Now!"

Tim keeps his head to the side, but slowly turns his black eyes to glare at Dean. He brings his head back around, pointing his hand back around, pointing his nose in the air. "And why would I do that?"

"Might make this a lot less painful for you." Dean feels the enmity consuming him, yours and his, but rather than pushing it away like he normally does, he accepts it. The echo of Tim's laughter infuriates him further, he winds his arm back to punch him again.

Dean? Can you hear me? Please, I can't...

Dean fumbles back, grabbing his head with both hands.

"Ol' boys not feeling so hot, huh?" Tim snickers, "that's too bad."

"Shut up," Sam cuts in, putting his hands on Dean's back to guide him to a chair. "Now, I was thinking to myself; why would a demon choose to stay topside?" He paced around the chair, "what would a demon even need with a house?"

"I like my own space," Tim licks his lips, squirming in the chair.

"I would believe that," Sam walks to the front of Tim. "I'd if weren't for a friend of ours that did some research." He pulls out his phone to reveal a picture of the demon sharing a kiss with Mrs. Mill, "what would Crowley have to say about this? You being intimate with a former captive?"

"Oh, he knows. Who do you think got me this place?" He laughs.

Sam shrugs casually, flipping through the photos to show me of Mrs. Mill tied to a chair, duck tape over her mouth.

"What have you done to her? Where is she?" He rattles the chair, "let me go!"

Sam leans down to firmly set his hands on the arm rests, "you first."

Tim groans, "I was paid off by Crowley to lure you three to town, get you together."

Dean clumps over, holding a hand to his head. "Why?"

"I don't know." Tim tilts his head, "I'm just a grunt, I do what I'm told."

"You had a sister too, you know," Allanah turns her back to you and tilts her head to the side. "But, well, when the Winchester's did what they do best, they used her as a getaway."

Allanah giggles just slightly, rotated around and adds, "her and your mother, actually. Your poor sister was bleeding from her center, trying to hold her spilling guts in one hand," Allanah mocks the action with a fake pout, "and a rigged in the other. Your mother, oh Ellen, she just couldn't bare to leave Jo's side as I hear it, bless her heart." She places her palms to her cheeks and purses her lips before beginning to leisurely pace, "and they both died in that explosion."

Tears almost too hot to touch stroll down your cheeks. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course I know what I'm talking about," she scoffs, reaching up to grab your cheeks and impartially wipe away the tears. "I created you, after all. I know everything there is to know about you and everyone around you."

She stands herself up straight and continues on with a softer tone, "now, when you add all of this tragedy together, what's your common denominator?" She pauses, "that's right. The Winchester's. Their selfishness has caused the death of everyone who's ever loved you and some you never got the chance to love in return. And I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty personal to me."

Allanah leans slightly on brush the sweat soaked strand of hair from your face. "Let us destroy them forever they-" Allanah mumbles the ending of her sentence as the sound of an engine rumbles outside, "ah, just in time." She leans into you, her breath heating your cheek. "Remember what they've done to you, to your family, Y/N. Do you really want to be another victim to their charades? Do you want to die at the hands of the Winchester's vain attempts to 'save the world'?"

Dean gasps as the two slam their way through the door, catching themselves with a few steps.

"The decision is yours, baby," she smiles wryly, pointing a finger to herself, "do you want to be powerful? Have it all?" She shoves a finger in their direction without breaking eye contact from you, "or be a pawn in their game, only to end up dead at the hands of whatever plot they scheme up?" Smirking, she snaps her fingers and disappears from the room.

You narrow your eyes at Dean, advancing towards him with your dagger in hand. "Whatever she's said to you, don't listen to it," he persuaded with his palms facing you.

"I called out for you!" you scream, keeping a fist around the dagger but bringing it to your side.

"Why do you think I'm here, Blue? I heard you."

You laugh to yourself. The silver lining of these events is a rebirth. "My name is Y/N."

Dean keeps his hands in the air and takes a few steps closer, "Y/N, okay, great. Let's go."

"Is it true?" you cry out.

Dean cramps his face, "is what true?"

"My family. Every single one of them, down to my birth parents... dead, because of you or your jerk of a father. The Winchester name is a curse that I refuse to be associated with."

"Sam, what is she talking about?"

"You're the one that can read her mind, you tell me."

You draw the knife up to your palm, tapping it lightly against your fingers as you count, "I'm talking about Bobby and Rufus. My mother, Ellen and the sister I never got to meet."

"Hold on. Jo is your sister?" Dean frowns as his hands and eyes drop to face the floor.

"Was my sister. Before you used her as bait for your own sick agendas!"

"No, no, Bl- Y/N, it - it wasn't like that," Sam stutters, taking a single step towards you. "She - she sacrificed herself."

"Sacrificed? Do you hear yourself?" you scoff and bounce your head against the back of your neck, looking at the ceiling while your arms fall limp at your sides.

"I know how it sounds, believe me, but it's true," he adds with a near brutal tone. "We were up against the devil himself. A lot was at stake."

"So you mean to tell me that he's gone, then right? The devil?"

"Yes," Sam smiles. "We got him. As far as we know, he's in the cage - in hell."

"You for a lot of nerve coming at us like we didn't lose people important to us, too," Dean shouts waving his knife at you.

"People that you got to spend your life around! People that knew you for who you were and loved you for who you were. I will always be a monster because of where I came from, that won't change and you said it yourself."

"Y/N, we never knew our mother either."

"Sam," Dean interjects, void of any hope. "Don't start. She doesn't care."

"You're right. I don't. The way I see it you guys have it and had it. So you didn't know your mother, but you have each other. I could have grown up hunting with a sister," you take into account what your purpose is now, and readjust yourself. "Still, it doesn't change a thing. Dean, you hated me from the start. You hardly gave me a chance to speak, at least not without severe judgment." You take a step forward, "your problem was decided guilty until proven innocent when I was innocent to begin with. And you, Sam, I'm just disposable to you. Someone you can play nice to and pretend you care about me only to be used as bait in your next big trial. I'm not falling for that.

"No, that's-"

"Don't bring him into this," Dean flicks his blade at you with a shift in his eyebrows. "He's the one they wanted to help you in the first place. If it weren't for Sam, you'd be dead already. So you want a fight? Well, bring it on, bitch," he says, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his neck.

"Oh, Dean. You don't kiss your mom with that mouth do you?" You smile and lunge are him with your blade. He barely makes it out of the way while going after you with his own and an extended arm that you effortless grab onto and use to slam into a wall, knocking all of it's oddities on top of him.

He jerks back action with a thrust of the knife while Sam attempts to leap in to help. With only a palm facing him, and your eyes still on Dean, you exert all of your anger into a small ball of light and directing it at Sam, halting him to a stop. Unable to intervene, he grunts and tries to call out for Dean, who is now the subject of your suspension. You turn your head and look at Sam through peripheral.

"Grumpy's right, Sammy. This isn't about you. Not entirely," you focus back on Dean, releasing your mental grip on him. "You wanted a monster and now you've got one. One they you have no business messing with and I swear it on your grave I'll make you eat those words."

"I'd rather have some pie, but thanks for the offer." He drops his shoulder and shakes out the tension in his arm before trying to attack you with his blade again. As he gets closer he can hear you chanting something too choppy to make out any words.

Sam is the first to fall, and Dean, still battling the sudden onset of exhaustion, drops slowly to his knees. You gracefully drop to your own right in front of him to caress his face with your palm, "good night sugar. See you never," you sing before drawing back your hand to gently push him to the floor. Stepping over Sam, you hum a long forgotten tune as you make your way through the door and off the property entirely.

"I see you've chosen wisely," Allanah says with a smile wide enough to show her perfectly straight teeth as you stroll to her side. The two of you stand in front of a double wide copper door. "They're not to bother us again, and I assure that if they do-"

"I took care of it," you say with vengeance in your eyes and a light curl of the corner of your mouth.

"Wonderful!" Allanah gleams, guiding you through a ballroom where the family has been paired off into twos across the marble flooring. Over in the corner and dancing your way is a tall woman with dark brown hair that curls just below the stone necklace wrapped around her neck. She approaches you with an extended palm and a beaming smile.

"This is Edra," Allanah states with a hand resting on Edras nos crossed arms. "She still be mentoring you for the next few weeks."

She doesn't take her eyes off of you ask she speaks, and maintaining a warm smile says, "as my right hand she is among the most powerful and will be treated as such or you will regret it, understand?"

You take in a long, silent breath through your nose and only give a single nod.

"Good! I'll leave you to it then," she says with a forced smile and carefree shrug before skipping over to another pair of witches.

What have I gotten myself into?

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