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#dean is transparent
shallowseeker · 8 months
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One thing I will always love about The Winchesters is how petulant it is about its romance parallels. It really is knocking you over the head with parallels to Dean’s feelings in particular.
The show is built around the choosing—the running your own race despite your circumstances.
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wellofdean · 1 month
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OK, I was going to reblog this excellent post by @luckshiptoshore so go read it, because yes. Yes!! YES!!! But then when I got started my post got super long and I felt bad tacking it onto her post and decided to make my own in response to these tags:
#i am actually a bit obsessed by the whole hunting as queerness metaphor#it’s so clearly something everyone involved in the show is thinking about#supernatural
Gurl, me too! Like go back to the start! By the time Supernatural began, the backlash against the Joseph Campbell Monomyth-style mode of storytelling had already begun in the hallowed halls of USC film school, and yo: I was there at the time of Kripke's graduation, and my best friends from college are full scale big giant time filmmakers now, whose names I will not share on main because it's uncool, and I don't want that attention, but... yeah. I am referencing FIRST HAND SOURCES on this.
But, for a real source? The Oxford English Dictionary places the first use of the term "Queer Theory" in 1990, with Queer Studies as an option in the academy by 1992. I know the kids think it's a new-fangled thing, but Kripke graduated USC in 1996 (I graduated in 1995) and it was ALL THE RAGE by then. My friends read queer theory in their Critical Studies courses in the Film School, I read it in the College of Humanities getting my degree in Literature. By that time, you could not get through that school with any degree in any non-STEM subject without knowing about ye olde postmodern lenses, queer and feminist theory, and without knowing how to employ those lenses.
Queer refers to sexuality, yes, but the word's earliest use (again, according to the OED) is in the 1500's, meaning: strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character; suspicious, dubious.
So, ok, in 2005, Enter Supernatural, episode 1:
Presented? Two brothers. One actively seeking credit in the straight world that is not available to him in the bosom of his family: Stanford, law school, hot co-ed girlfriend, the other bound to his fractured, wounded family by duty, yes, but also by love, living on the fringe, alone, fighting monsters, and chasing after his father's approval, and who has long since given up any dream of being 'normal'. Episode 1 presents Sam's call to adventure, which he refuses when it's just familial duty, honor and love calling him, but accepts when the show takes a very straightforward and very telling path by classically fridging his woman. Ok, now he's on board. Like John, whose motivation is another dead woman, his motivation is revenge. So far so straight!
Dean though: he's different. He is already on the adventure and he was not 'called' or given the option of accepting or refusing because he had no agency when his feet were set upon this road. He does not fit the straight world at all, because he is cobbled together out of love, duty, deep guilt, striving, desperation and fear. This is who he is now, in some elemental, incontrovertible way. It was not a choice for him, he was born to it. His mother is dead, and we later learn, she made the choices that brought them all to this fate. Dean remembers her idyllically, but he is not motivated by revenge, more than any other thing, he wants to be worthy. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love.
Enter Supernatural's main theme: fucked up relationships between men enmeshed in patriarchy, which will eventually expand to include fucking GOD HIMSELF.
And like, there are SO MANY CLEAR STEPS ALONG THE ROAD in season one, and I am not even talking about sexuality and gender here, but there is SO MUCH TO SAY about it in season 1. But I am not talking about that -- I am talking at a structural, narrative level, the whole thing is just fucking all the way queered, yo.
The big climax?
At the end of the season, Dean says: "I just want my family back together. You, me, Dad... it's all I have." He is Sam's mother, John's partner! His vulnerability and emotion is feminized and contrasted with Sam and John's more overtly driven by their more masculine/straight heroic revenge quest. John: "Sam and I can get pretty obsessed, but you always take care of this family." Only that's not John talking, it's Azazel, and Dean knows it is because his father would never forgive how soft he is, how he will always choose love and family over revenge. Then, in the end, the show makes a huge point of telegraphing that Sam is finally aligning with Dean by refusing to shoot Azazel because he's possessing John, and Sam just can't do that to Dean.
Sam and Dean are thus bound together and cemented into a marginalised path, living on the road, haunting liminal spaces and cheap motels, confronting the monstrous everyday. Sam is presented as the brains of the operation, he does research, logics his way through things (masculine) while Dean is the heart who acts impulsively and on instinct and intuition (feminine).
It later transpires that Sam has a piece of the monster inside himself, and Dean has to learn to love the monstrous, he has no choice, because Sam is his brother and then Cas... and, and, and!
Like... I could go on and on, citing ENDLESS EXAMPLES. This could be a literal book. Maybe one you need to read with a magnifying glass like my condensed edition of the OED. LIke, the queerness of Supernatural is DIZZYING and MYRIAD.
But basically? FROM THE START, hunting is a queered version of family, and within that, Dean is a queered version of a Campbellian hero. Hunting is a metaphor for otherness and liminality, and that's even before you say a WORD about sex. It starts in deviation from the norms of family, masculinity and expands from there on so many levels both in story and on a meta level. The story is flesh on queer fucking bones.
I'm so sorry, but anyone who thinks queerness was not BAKED INTO Supernatural and more specifically into Dean from DAY 1 has clearly never seen Dean's insane lip gloss in season 1, and vastly underestimates the cultural awareness of people who write shit in Hollywood, and also the other people who put pink lip gloss on pretty boys in Hollywood. Nothing that gets on your screen wasn't a fucking choice made and approved by a LONG LIST of people who know what they are about.
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deancasforcutie · 1 year
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how do we know spn is queer on purpose? because the hayscoded gays coparenting a child is literally just text like HELLO
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urfavesarequadranted · 8 months
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Veronica Sawyer ♤ Jason Dean,,,,,
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Jason Dean and Veronica Sawyer from Heathers are kismeses!
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virfujiwara · 1 year
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"She knows it's a multi-pass. Castiel, my husband. We're newlyweds. Just met. You know how it is. Bump into each other, sparks happen. Yeah. Anyway, we're in love."
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cowboycunt · 2 months
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my favorite thing at work is explaining why i have considerable knowledge of illegal photoshop. like girlie i was in tumblr fandoms when i was 12 years old…… what do you think i was doing on the family pc
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quietwingsinthesky · 6 months
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the thing about dean getting a hellhound is that it’s not a dog he wants. this isn’t that kind of story. he fed it so much blood that it turned away from the king of hell to nip at dean’s heels, and then he was forcibly pulled back to humanity with the mark still pulsing on his arm, forced to look at the death he’d been happy to take part in for months, and the hellhound won’t go away. it’s invisible, sometimes he’s not even sure if it’s following him or not, if he drove far enough to get away from it, but it always ends up back at his side, growling and shaking its shaggy coat and scratching up the floorboards with its claws.
it’s not a creature that can be transformed by love. it will always be a hulking, dangerous thing, will always have teeth and a desire to use them. it can only be understood, and treated with respect, and accepted for what it is. and it is not leaving. dean could kill it, maybe, but he’d probably end up torn to shreds if he tried. he can use it, it obeys his commands, but it can hear go better than stop. and without the glasses, he never really knows where it is, what it’s doing, if it’s looking at him like a companion or its next meal.
dean can chain it up in the bunker’s dungeon (it will chew itself free) and scream at it to leave (it will not go) and make himself a knife to tear its guts open (that it is too smart to let him use.) but the dog’s not going anywhere. he’s stuck with it.
so. one day. eventually. he’s going to have to learn to live with it. and maybe that’s the best he can hope for, to hold out his hand and feel an unseen wet nose press against it, sniff and growl and pad away, but without biting, without taking it as a challenge.
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namnworb · 5 months
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Dean Forester from Gilmore Girls
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hellverse · 1 year
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cas: i’m doing this for humanity:)
literally everyone else: no i’m pretty sure you’re doing this for that dean guy
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dollhousemary · 1 year
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i’m thinking of the best friend of it all again
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scoobydoodean · 7 months
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I see this held up as major proof of Dean's badness, but couldn't it also be proof of Cas having faith Dean can get past anything without Cas having to change his behavior? The way it's structured the onus is on DEAN to work through it, not others to change or make amends. ---- CASTIEL: You know, Dean, he – he feels things more acutely than any human I've ever known. So it's possible he could work through this. One day, he may explode and let it all out and breathe deeply and move on.
I see what you mean in a general sense, and it's extremely possible that Cas is thinking about his own past fights with Dean and Dean forgiving him, and from the perspective of the critique you have in mind that you're refuting, I agree. But of course deancrit casgirls will forever insist that Cas has never in his life done anything harmful to Dean either accidentally or on purpose, so any time Dean might dare try to hold him accountable for anything, he's actually just making shit up and being toxic and controlling, so here Cas is just apologizing for his own abusive relationship. You can only get their take by being deliberately obtuse/disingenuous.
That said, the context of that line (from 15.13 "Destinty's Child") is Cas answering soulless Jack's question about whether Dean will eventually forgive him for murdering Mary.
CASTIEL: Hey, Jack. JACK: Cas, you know what's good about being dead? CASTIEL: Uh, as I recall, very little. JACK: Well, when you come back, you – you really get into all that life is. Hot, cold, sweet, spicy, funny, scary. CASTIEL: And are you? "Into it"? JACK: I want to be. But I don't... feel things the way I used to. Before I lost my... CASTIEL: Your soul. JACK: I used to feel things. In my bones. It was glorious, and sometimes unbearable. But I felt them. Now, I understand joy or sadness, but... I know those things aren't in me. I understand why Sam and Dean were angered by what happened to Mary... CASTIEL: By what you did to Mary. JACK: Yes. I see that I've caused them pain. And it's clear that things have changed. Especially with – with Dean. Will he ever forgive me? CASTIEL: You know, Dean, he – he feels things more acutely than any human I've ever known. So it's possible he could work through this. One day, he may explode and let it all out and breathe deeply and move on. JACK: How long will that take? CASTIEL: I don't know.
And yeah—I have seen people refer to Cas's little speech here as "condoning child abuse" and other bullshit. Because how DARE Dean not forgive soulless Jack for murdering his mother (something soulless Jack is unable to actually really acknowledge he did). I mean clearly any time someone murders your mom because she made them mad and threatened their sense of security by asking if they're okay and saying their concerning actions can’t stay a secret… That’s just natural understandable stuff! You need to forgive the person who murdered her instantly and if you don’t idk you’re kinda overreacting don’t you think? :/ I mean your mom probably deserved it kind of anyway for reading the room so wrong and talking about getting a person help. And I mean if you don't forgive the person who killed your mom or do anything trying to stop them from hurting more people you're really a child abuser... toward an adult... who murdered your mother in cold blood and is unable to even understand why it was wrong in any sense other than an intellectual one like he read it from a book... preferring to refer to it as "What happened to Mary" instead of acknowledge it as something he himself did because he was mad and felt threatened—which is what he circled back to in "Jack In The Box" too. It's only when Jack gets his soul back that he's able to actually feel true empathy, acknowledge his real actions and the gravity of them, and give an actual sincere apology. Because his soul is actually important—something this fandom refuses, by and large, to notice.
Anyway, this fandom's take on Mary's murder and soulless Jack vs. regular Jack is overwhelmingly a bag of wet third grader vomit and feces so what can one expect?
#mail#soulless jack killing mary is popularly regarded as an accident... but it's pretty transparent that it wasn't?#or rather it was on purpose but he regretted it the second after it happened. but that is still. Something he chose to do. Not an accident.#He saw her as a threat to his relationship with Sam and Dean and he acted.#This is indicated right before he kills her. He admits it outright also right before calling it an accident which unravels that whole idea.#It wasn’t pre-meditated but in that moment he wanted her to die. She was going to tell everyone there was something wrong with him.#And he did not want that.#It wasn't an accident and he can't handle his own culpability because it threatens his belief that he can make things be the way they were#before it happened. Which is why he killed her to begin with! He didn't want anyone to know/think anything was wrong with him!#And just like soulless Jack just wants everyone to forget about it and act like nothing happened and he's fine...#Many fans want Dean to forget about it. They want Dean to believe and say and feel and think that Mary did not matter.#And that being upset at her literal murder (even if it was an accident—which it was not) is bad and evil.#And Sam's great capacity for numbness (which we already saw in season 13) strengthen's their own lack of empathy for Dean#in a situation that in real life they would understand unless they're actual psychopaths.#It's only because Dean is a character in a narrative representing the need/capacity to be loved and accepted at all#that these demands that his thoughts and feelings bend to everyone else's emotional needs become so disturbingly intrusive#dont feed the stans after midnight#and cas is my best friend#hot girl cas
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free-space-444 · 2 years
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“I, uh, didn’t realize that you had-or well, were with someone, (Y/N)...just never occurred to me I guess? I...I should go...”
GIF: PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS YOUR GIF.
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words-4u · 6 months
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down to their bones
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pairing: jordan li x f!reader
wc: 875
warnings: none, a bit angsty, minor jealousy, lots of fluff
a/n: listened to your bones by clesea culter while writing this and kind of used it as an inspo - don't have to listen to it but you should for vibes especially near the end
hero ethics was once a class you were excited for but now that you were a month into the course, you realize it's not at all what you expected.
all you do is watch a shit ton of videos and theorize hypotheticals, there's nothing even remotely physical involved which is what you really wanted the most.
instead here you were with lia, your partner for an upcoming presentation that dean shetty insisted the class do after she took over for brink. 
“you know i still can’t believe shetty wants us to speak for 20 full minutes on ‘aero dynamics of human flight’” you said looking at the late professor brink’s book before tossing it to the side. “i can’t even fly!”
“well, i can and it doesn’t take a rocket science to figure out how,” lia laughed. she was sprawled on your double bed that was littered with two copies of the book, laptops, pens and little stickies. “i’m a hands on learner, i need to be out there in the open skies.”
she fell back on your bed and in to a fake daydream. 
“i think someone needs to get their head out of the clouds and help me with this presentation or else we’ll fail,” you leaned in playfully tapping her forehead with a highlighter. of course this is the exact most your significant other, jordan, walks in to your room.
“uuuh…hello?” jordan said. they walked in clearly having come back from the gym, in their baggy shorts, cropped blue sweater and their short bob in a ponytail.
they were expecting to find you on your own, wanting to spend the rest of the evening with you, not to find you on your bed with another girl.
“hi babe,” you raced to jordan and placed your hands on their shoulders as you kissed them. you knew something was off the second they didn’t kiss back and you were right because as you pulled back, their eyes were glued to your bed. where lia was. 
“i’m sorry, and who are you?” jordan snapped. you were slightly taken aback because this was a side of jordan you haven't seen.
“jordan, that’s lia, my partner for hero ethics and lia this is jordan, my partner outside of hero ethics and everything else,” you smiled between the two people in your room.
“yeah, they are ranked number 5 in the whole school, y/n, i know who they are. i just didn’t know you were dating a star student,” lia said looking impressed. 
“you didn’t know?” jordan parroted. “she didn’t know?”
“we got paired up like 4 hours ago on this project. it wasn’t exactly at the top of my list of things to speak to her about.”  you whispered. 
you turned to lia. “um, i’m just gonna talk to jordan outside for like 5 minutes, you can take a break if you want.”
lia gave two thumps up before pulling out her vphone.
you grabbed jordan by the wrist and dragged them out of your dorm and into the hall way. there were a couple students walking up and down the hall and some more in a corner chatting about the latest viral video from the Seven but overall it was empty enough to have this much needed conversation.
by the time you shut your door, jordan had shifted to their male form.
“what the hell is wrong you?” you asked poking their shoulder. 
jordan clenched their jaw. “what are you talking about?”
“w-what am i talking about?” you asked back. “i’m talking about the fact that lia is lucky you don’t have laser eyes or she’d fucking toast. literally!”
“i walk into your room and you have another girl on your bed, y/n, how am i supposed to feel?”
the look on their face was suddenly transparent and it dawned on you.
“you’re jealous? over a classmate? is that it?” you asked, this time your voice carrying a softer tone. 
jordan didn’t look too pleased with the fact that they let something so trivial get to them.
“j, use your words,”
“you guys just looked so close,” they said looking at you with their big brown eyes.
you sighed. “well, we’re not. but we do need to get along cause this project is worth 30% and you know your girl can’t and won’t fail,” you said which caused them to smile a bit.
“besides,” you continued pushing their back against the wall and wrapping your hands around their neck. “i’m sort of already in love with someone, like right down to their bones, and as long as they are in my life no one else stands a chance.”
jordan leaned their forehead against yours. “i’m sorry for how i reacted. it was shitty.”
“apology accepted,” you whispered. “now give me a kiss. a proper one this time,”
jordan brushed their lips against your before kissing the air out of you. it was getting a little too hot for two people standing in a hallway and you were never one for major pda so you pulled away smiling.
“okay now you're just being a distraction,” you grinned up at them.
“okay, fine i’ll go but just to make sure, it was me who you were talking about, right?”
you chuckled playfully shoving them down the hall. “yes, you big idiot. now go and come back in 2 hours when you can really make it up to me.”
jordan smirked. “i’ll be counting down the seconds."
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if you want to request something, there's a link in my bio (the more detailed the better <3)
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yellowjackets96 · 2 months
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the way you do the things you do / angus tully x reader — part one
summary / chaos is only natural when barton's resident misfit strikes up a bond with the middle child of the school's most despised instructor.
warnings / none
word count / 1,300+
hii! this one goes out to the very wise anon who suggested a plot revolving around angus and mr. hunham's kid, which, i must say, is an utterly brilliant concept. however, it turned out to be a lot longer than just a mere one-shot like my first one had been, so it'll probably end up being two or three parts. i hope that's okay, lovely anon. thank you for sharing your brilliance with me!
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Moreso than anything else, the relationship between the two of you started as an agreement. Well, an unspoken one, but an agreement nonetheless. Somebody had to look out for the two of you, on equal footing as outliers, as social rejects, as the odd men out. No one could be better for that role than you yourselves. 
To your utter dismay, ever since your parents made the decision to ship you off to Barton Academy in order to get you “the best education available” for high school (which was made possible by your father’s half-off tuition staff discount), you found yourself under a level of scrutiny that you never once faced at your old public junior high. It was not your intention to be perceived as the offspring of the most hated man there, either, but word travels quicker than a deer crossing the road at Barton. A concept introduced to the dean on a Sunday morning ends up widely-understood knowledge by a Monday evening. You’d already been written off as the ‘spawn of Satan’ before you even started your first class. Tough fuckin’ luck.
On the other hand, Angus’s isolation was entirely self-imposed. Following several years of what his mother had promised would be a “short-lived maintenance phase,” he became fed up with the entire process — the constant shifting and forced socialization and paperwork and meetings with headmasters. Lather, rinse, repeat, over and over until he felt utterly insane. He grew to resist society’s forced conditioning of him, lashing out the only way he knew how, through acts of adolescent rebellion. Due to how much you contrast from your stickler father, you eventually saw eye to eye with Angus on this. Once you had finally worn him down to the point of dragging a tragic backstory out of him, you understood why, because, of course no teenager could possibly be interested in the art of befriending their peers and engrossing themselves in a community at their third consecutive school. 
But it didn’t start off too swimmingly.
He entered your life on the strangest day of the week, during the least-interesting possible time of year — a Thursday in late February. You learned of his arrival through the grapevine, mere hours before you first saw him. Perched at a seat towards the very corner of the dining hall, you had become increasingly intrigued by the nearby nonstop chatter from a group populated by Georgie Jackson, Philip McNamara, Billy Wolfe, and Teddy Kountze, a rare sight in the seven o’clock breakfast setting, which was typically chock full of half-dead, completely exhausted teenagers.
“You wanna bet it’s gonna be another freak?” Teddy had grumbled, shaking his head dismissively at something optimistic Georgie must have said. “They’re half the school, at this point.”
He not-so-transparently nodded towards you, earning him in-sync laughs from the more agreeable Philip and Billy, and a halfhearted head shake from Georgie. “Christ, dude. And you wonder why we’re the only kids who tolerate you.”
Teddy threw his hands up defensively. “Hey, I’m just sayin’! We could benefit from someone actually cool and fun.”
“God, could you imagine how cool a girl would be?” Billy daydreamed, practically drooling.
The shaggy-haired blonde smirked. “You’re telling me. That’s all I wanted since I first enrolled here. Would be nice if old man Woodrup would do what the student body actually wants, for once.”
“Instead,” Philip piped up, wearing a dejected pouty frown. “I’m hearing this guy got kicked outta three different schools.”
Your curiosity piqued, you finally jumped in, against your better judgment. “What could possibly get a teenage boy tossed from not one, not two, but three schools? That sounds utterly ridiculous.”
The energy sufficiently changed as Teddy shot you a poisonous glare, you watched the trio of his small-time henchmen sink into their seats, seemingly anxious at how angry you were about to make him. His scrunched-up face twisted into a confident smirk, like he was one-thousand percent confident he could ensure you would never speak to him again. “What’s it to you, Walleye Jr.? You think I’d lie about some shit like that? Would you tell your daddy if I did?”
A scoff escaping your throat, you leaned back into your seat, slightly dejected. “Well, no, but-”
“That’s what I thought,” Teddy said, his lackeys chuckling in unison, practically on cue. “And you wonder why you don’t have any friends, loser.”
Just like that, enforced unnecessary social hierarchy had left you right back where you were before, with more questions than you could ever get proper answers for.
Once lunch period rolled around, you figured you may as well not try your luck again. 
Wrapping a gentle fist against the surface of your father’s door, you barely had to stand by for more than a few moments before he greeted you, the smile that he saved for you and the rest of your family plastered across his cheeks as he slung an arm across your shoulder, pulling you into a casual hug. Due to the academy’s policy of teacher’s children not being allowed to take their parent’s classes to avoid favoritism, you no longer spent time with him every day as you typically did with your mother back home. The reunion was definitely something you had been yearning for since you last saw him, even though it must have been no less than a week ago last Sunday. For the first time in far too long, something at Barton brought joy back to you. 
“How have you been, sweetheart?” your father asked, his reading glasses bouncing slightly on the bridge of his nose as he sat back down at his desk. He pointed to the chair on the other end of it, offering it to you. You gladly accepted, tugging the seat out and sliding into it.
You shrugged at the question, trying not to pay Kountze and his gang of blockheads too much mind. “Fine. Haven’t really done anything too notable or special.”
“Well, hey,” he offered, sliding a sheet labeled roll call across the desk to you. “Maybe this’ll brighten your spirits, despite how much the prospect of it annoys me.”
As soon as he finishes speaking, you instantly know what he was referring to, your eyes catching on the highlighted name sandwiched between Neil Sweeney and Todd Wedderling, bearing an emboldened word next to it — Angus Tully (NEW). And then, like it were on cue, the door behind the two of you swung open, revealing the sight of an instantly-enrapturing bearer of deeply brown eyes.
“Ah, Mr. Tully,” your father remarked, rising from the desk to greet him. “What a coincidence. I was just introducing them to you.”
Angus snorted. “All good things, I hope.”
“You’ve yet to prove us otherwise,” the older man quipped, before quickly turning toward you. “This is my middle child, the one Dr. Woodrup told you about. They’re a sophomore like you, so even though you won’t be in my class together, I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
Picking up on the hint, you offer the other teenager a hand, which he casually shakes. “Pleasure to meet you, Angus.”
The brunette offered a crooked half-smile, enough to draw one out of you, too. “Nice to meet you as well.” Everything about him seemed natural — the way he didn’t force his grin, the warmth of his palm, the distinct waviness of his mud-shaded curls. This school left you perpetually surrounded by well-off jackasses, standing where they were currently placed via generational wealth, rather than strength and perseverance, working off of their own merits as your father had. Not to say that Tully was dissimilar in that manner, but he just felt so distinctly different, like he was not even trying to cultivate a phony persona in the effort of impressing others. If only everyone were like him. Maybe Barton would be bearable after all.
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valleydean · 8 months
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The Beginning
Story by: valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) Art by: sidewinder @hawkland
Rating: Explicit
Word count: ~118k
Tags/archive warnings: endverse, zombie apocalypse, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, drug use, animal death, Dean POV, Cas POV, Castiel's loss of angelic grace, newly human Castiel, jealous Dean, fear of abandonment, angst, rough sex, body horror, internalized homophobia, denial, minor Cas/OC, drugs as a coping mechanism, sex as a coping mechanism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn, slow build, codependency
Summary: One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival.
Preview:
Cas stepped to the other side of the door and turned around to face Dean. Dean stopped walking, looking forward at Cas and waiting for him to say anything at all.
When he did, it was, “In there.”
Dean pulled his brows together, his eyes flashing to the dark window panel in the door. The directional light of his flashlight bounced off of it, obscuring whatever was inside. The glass was a deeply black mirror.
His gut clenched, feeling like someone had shoved their hand into his intestines and was trying to rip them out. He slowly brought his face closer to the window. His transparent reflection stared back pensively. He looked beyond it, squinting and refocusing his eyes.
There were bodies in there—maybe three of four. He couldn’t really tell. Some of them were in pieces. Pools of blood soaked them, glinting like a knife in the moonlight that fought its way through the dirty windows.
Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell happened.
Something slammed against the other side of the glass. A bloody hand. Dean jumped back, his shout echoing down the hall. It shattered the bubble of silence—so, too, did the banging on the glass as the man inside tried to beat his way out of the room. His dripping red fists pounded incessantly, leaving smears on the window. He was giving off animalistic grunts and hisses.
“What the…” Dean said, his heart still in his throat. He looked at Cas, demanding an answer. Part of him wanted to blame Cas, to ask him why the hell he slaughtered people and left them in a room. But maybe they weren’t people. Then, what? Demons? Monsters?
Something didn’t add up.
The man kept doing everything he could to bust through the glass. Dean noticed the paring knife clutched in his fist.
Cas didn’t kill those people.
“I led them here and locked them inside,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “They killed each other.”
The lines of Dean’s forehead bunched up when he lifted his brows in surprise. There was something he was missing. It felt like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. A distorted memory from a faded dream.
“You’ve seen this before,” Cas supplied. “The Croatoan virus.”
The words hit Dean like a truck. Blanching, he said, “Croatoan? You mean, the thing that turns everybody into Jack Torrance?”
“No, the demon virus that triggers murderous actions in anyone who contracts it,” Cas corrected, and Dean was still too busy freaking out to tell Cas they pretty much said the same thing. Pressing his lips together, Cas turned his gaze on the door, and there was a subdued kind of despondency in them, like he was trying to control how much emotion he showed on his face. “It’s one of the signs of the apocalypse. This is Lucifer’s doing. He unleashed the Horseman Pestilence.”
“Pestilence,” Dean echoed, the word taking a long time to process. He remembered, thirteen months ago, when he and Sam cut the ring off War’s fingers. That had been the day he and Sam parted ways. Dean hadn’t seen his brother since. He’d only talked to him once on the phone, when Sam called him a few weeks later to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted him as his meatsuit.
Dean rattled his head, trying to shake loose any thoughts of Sam. He focused on Cas saying, “The entire town’s been infected.”
Dean remembered how quickly the virus spread—and how it spread. An infected person had to bleed into someone’s open wound. Once the blood mixed, that was it. Soon after, the victim would turn into a one-track-mind, bloodthirsty monster.
He glanced back at the doorway. The man was still standing behind the glass, looking at Dean like he was lunch, but at least he’d stopped pounding on the window.
“It isn’t the only one,” Cas continued. “There are pockets of the virus across America—possibly the world.”
How hadn’t Dean heard about this? His chest felt too small, like his ribcage was shrinking around his heart and lungs. “Where’d it start?”
“I don’t know.”
Coming this October to @deancashorrorfest
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