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katymacsupernatural · 6 years

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When Did You Know?

Sam Winchester x Reader

1000 Words

Written For: SPN Angst Appreciation Day 2018. Requested by Anon

Warnings: Angst!

The signs were subtle at first. Subtle enough that you easily missed them, living in the bliss you thought your relationship was.

You had fallen in love with Sam almost a year ago after helping him and his brother on a hunt. You had gotten swept in with his uniquely colored hazel eyes, the quiet way he went about. He wasn’t like any of the other hunters that you had gotten wrapped up in him, and you began to wonder if this was it. This was the man you were meant to settle down with. Even while still hunting.

But as time passed, you began to wonder if you were the only one interested in keeping this relationship going. Sam often found excuses to keep you back at the bunker, stuck on research duty.

It was one of these days that you found yourself wandering the large tomb you called home, bored out of your mind. Sam and Dean had been gone for almost four days, and you were ready to have someone to talk to once again. To not sleep alone in bed one more night.

Stepping into the office Sam had taken over as his own, you noticed the dust all over the place. Books were piled everywhere, along with some empty glasses and plates. Deciding to surprise him when he got back, you began tidying up the place. Taking the dishes back to the kitchen, coming back with a dusting rag. Cleaning up the desk, you turned to the bookcase when you accidentally knocked over a pile of notes.

Sighing in annoyance, you kneeled down, piling them all together when one caught your eye. Like most of the other’s, it was written in Sam’s handwriting. But this wasn’t certain notes about a spell or a book he had read. This was almost like a diary. There were about four sheets, each one with a date at the top, filled front to back.

Knowing you should just put them back in the pile and forget about them, you couldn’t help it when you saw your name. Sitting down on the floor, you began reading, your heart plummeting with each word.

Sam talked about his brother, and the frustrations he felt with him. But mainly he talked about you. How he cared about you but didn’t love you.

You didn’t realize that tears were slipping down your cheeks until they smeared the ink on the page. Hastily wiping them away, you shoved the rest of the paper back onto the desk, taking the diary pages with you.

Tossing them on your bed, you pulled out your suitcase. Opening a random drawer, you began tossing your belongings inside. As you reached in and pulled out one of Sam’s faded shirts that you wore to bed, you felt your knees giving out, and you slid to the ground.

Feeling like your heart had been shot, you hugged the shirt as tight as you could, letting into the tears. It hurt, knowing that the man you loved with all of your heart didn’t love you in return.

An hour could have passed, or just twenty minutes, you weren’t sure. Footsteps echoed in the hallway, but before you could scramble to your feet, Sam came striding into the bedroom. He stared down at you in shock, his eyes widening when he noticed the papers behind you.

“Y/N, those weren’t….you weren’t meant to see those,” he stuttered, reaching out to take them.

“Well, maybe you should have let me go on some of the hunts with you then,” you mumbled, standing up and continuing to pack. “I wouldn’t have been bored out of my mind waiting for you to come back!”

“Y/N, sit down. We can talk about this, figure it out,” Sam pleaded, and you turned to face him. Every agonizing emotion you were feeling was etched on your face, and he took a step back, shocked by the pain you were suffering.

“When was it that you realized that you didn’t love me?” You asked him quietly. “Was it that night you came home smelling like another woman’s perfume? Or was it the night that I almost died trying to save you?”

“Y/N, I never cheated on you,” he insisted.

“Tell me!”

“Y/N, it was the night I thought I had to choose between you and Dean,” he answered, and you sank back onto the bed, trying to catch a breath. “It was the moment that I knew I would always choose Dean that I realized maybe I didn’t love you as much as I should.”

“So, I guess this is goodbye,” you whispered, pulling the suitcase to you and zipping it up.

“It doesn’t have to be!” He argued. “You could stay, and hunt with us. I promise I won’t force you to stay back anymore.”

“Sam, I can’t do that,” you told him. “I can’t stay here, seeing you every day knowing that I couldn’t have you. What if you found someone else? I don't think I could handle that. So, I think it’s best if I go.”

“Stay, at least tonight. Things might look different in the morning,” he tried once again, but you shook your head. With your suitcase rolling behind you, you walked beside him. With your cheeks tearstained, you stood on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his cheek before walking down the hallway and away from the man you had thought you would spend the rest of your life with.

Sam/Jared Tags: @a-girl-who-loves-disney @aj-reuth @barbedwireandbubblegum @demonic-meatball @depressed-moose-78 @imagine-inc @kay18115 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @musicalsarelove @lovesamwinchester @mereka18 @sadmac356 @shadowhunter7 @sizzlingbearpolice @sortaathief @unicornblood4ever @winchesterslibrary

Forever Tags(CLOSED): @16wiishes @4401lnc @algud @amanda-teaches @andkatiethings @andreaaalove @angelsandwinchesters @anspgene @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @bemyqueenofdarkness @bohowitch @buckysmetalgoddamnarm @bumber-car-s @brooke-supernatural16 @brunettechick @camelotandastronauts @captainradicalpassion @chelsea072498 @clairese1980 @captainemwinchester @darthdeziewok @destiels-new-girl @donnaintx @dont-you-dare-say-misha @dslocum89 @duckieburns @docharleythegeekqueen @emmazach @emilicious-7 @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 @essie1876 @generalgoldfishldrm @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @herbologystudent252 @heyitscam99 @highfunctioning-soiciopath @hms-fangirl @hobby27 @ichooseeternalplaces @imboredsueme @internationalmusicteacher @ithinkimadorable-67 @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @just-another-busy-fangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @keelzy2 @leanbeankeane @lifelovelaughangell123 @li-ssu @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @luciferslucille @maui137 @mellowlandrunaway @mogaruke @nanie5 @natashacamillaus @newtospnfandom @offbeatsilhouette @offbeatwriting @percussiongirl2017 @pilaxia @pizzarollpatrol @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @rosegoldquintis @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @smoothdogsgirl @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @sunskittlex @starry-chaos @superbadassnatural @thebikiniinspector @theflameontheinside @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tina8009 @totallovelesson @tunadean @vvinch3st3r @walkslikesummeractslikerain @whimsicalrobots @wildlandfox @winchesterbrothers-inc @winchesterxtwo @winchester-writes @worldwidehansum @zombiewerewolfqueen

#spn angst appreciation day 2018 #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #supernatural angst #sam winchester angst #katy writes

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mlovesstories · 6 years

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Monster

Dean x Sister

Sam x Sister

John x Daughter

Monster (SPN Angst Day 2018)

Super mild angst

Word count: practically nothing

“Sam! You will desert this family if you go to Stanford! You cannot do that!” John was furious. “You have a job to do!”

“I am not deserting this family! I’m just doing something on my own! There is a difference, Dad!” Sam yelled in response.

“Hey! You are scaring her!” Dean joined in loudly. Everyone looked at the frightened six year-old. “Come here, YN.” Dean scooped her up in his arms. “When you are done being immature children, come get us.” He exited with YN on his side.

“Deanie! I’m scared. What’s happening to Sammy?”

“It’s gonna be okay. Dad and Sam are angry right now. It won’t last long. Let’s get in the car. You can fall asleep in the back.”

YN would have fought her oldest brother about the sleeping arrangements, but she was used to her vehicle accommodations. She was also very tired.

“Are you done yet? YN would like to sleep in peace, I’m sure,” Dean whispered as he saw Sam packing a bag and exiting the motel room, YN asleep in his arms.

“I’m leaving. Good luck, Dean. Keep my little monster safe.”

“Wait, what?” Dean responded, wanting to raise his voice, but he didn’t.

“I’ll call you. Get her to bed.”

“Sam!” Dean whisper-yelled at the middle sibling.

“Bye, Dean.”

Part 2 here!

Tell me if you liked it below or in an ask! Thanks for the likes and support! <3</b>

.@luci-in-trenchcoats .@katymacsupernatural .@unicornblood4ever .@ellie-andthemachine .@fangirl-moment-x .@empirialwolf .@winchesters-favorite-girl .@super100012 .@waywardnewcomer .@percywinchester27 .@waywardsuns .@supernatural-jackles .@mcallmestiles .@mandyreese .@sdavid09 .@kingandrear .@bellero . @iliketowrite02 .@seality @blogsnowflakeme @jaycc7983 @alyssarenea13 .@surflifesaverfreak .@87sassy @rosie-winchester

#spn angst appreciation day 2018 #supernatural #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester #sister winchester

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thing-you-do-with-that-thing · 6 years

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Dear John

Pairing: Jarevieve x Reader

Warnings: Just all the heartbreak.

Word Count: 276

A/N: Anon I went a slightly different way since I couldn’t figure out how to make the comfort thing really angsty (in my defense I have been writing all night and it’s getting really late here) but hope you like it.

Not betaed. All mistakes are mine

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

My loves…

I’m so sorry but I can’t do this anymore. I love you both so much. It’s breaking my heart to leave you and the boys. I know I should do this face to face and not write it in a letter, but I am not brave enough. You, Gen would look at me with those big eyes and Jared, you would wrap me in your arms. I would never be able to walk out that door then. I wouldn’t be strong enough.

There it is again.. That word. Enough. That’s the problem. I am not enough. It’s not that I doubt your love for me or even think you love each other more than you love me. I trust us and I know us. I just also know me. I know you can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending to be the nanny and jump every time on of you touch me in public. I can’t keep pretending that I am not completely head over heels in love with both of you and I know you don’t want me too.

The thing is.. I am not brave or strong like the two of you. I can’t face my family and their judgement when they find out I fell in love with two people that were already married to each other. I can’t face your fans and the hate I’ll receive every day. I know exactly what they’ll say and neither of you deserve that. I can’t do that do you and I know I am not…. I’m not enough.

Never doubt that my love for you was real.

Goodbye

Yours always Y/N.

Please reblog; help me spread my work - Leave a comment. Feedback is fuel

Jarevieve x Reader Tag Team

@mysupernaturalfics @blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @evansrogerskitten @thelittleredwhocould @carryonmyswansong @sillesworldofwriting

@jadalecki-jackles @cassieraider @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchester-gospels-67 @freekryptonitecloud @speakinvain @shaelyn102 @holyfuckloueh @plaid-lover-bay25 @jessyackles @mystrie @sea040561 @typicalweirdbookworm @petra-arkanian-1497 @sleepretreat @serienjunkiegirl @esoltis280 @jenneel-jarevieve @danijimenezv @bemyqueenofdarkness

#spn angst appreciation day 2018 #jarevieve x reader #jared x reader x gen #jared padalecki #genevieve padalecki #spn rpf #spn imagine #jarevieve imagine #spn angst #spn fanfiction

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percywinchester27 · 6 years

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Tic Tac Toe (What if...)

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: Sam X Reader

Warnings: Heavy Angst. It’s just painful guys, don’t read it if think you can’t take it.

A/N: This is a part retelling of first half of part-32 of Tic Tac Toe, written for the SPN Angst Appreciation Day 2018. This is NOT how it happens in the actual series!

It merely answers the question: What would have happened if Sam and Dean had found the reader an hour later than when they actually did?

Thanks to the lovely @moonlitskinwalker for beta reading this. You’re awesome <3

It was that smell. Sam just couldn't get it out of his head. The acrid, terrorizing smell of burning flesh. It was all around him when he had pulled Y/N out of the fire. No, it wasn't her really, more of memory. Sam remembered it from the day he had borne Jess's casket. Everyone had expected him to cry, but he knew he had to be strong. He had to be strong for a couple more hours, then he would be free to bury himself in the ocean of misery.

But this was different. He felt hollow inside out as he held her bloodied hand in the ambulance.

Everything seemed to move too fast once the ambulance stopped, and too soon she was ripped away from Sam once more. Another EMT rushed to Sam's aid, noting his disheveled appearance, but Sam didn't wait to answer his questions about the blood on his own shirt.

They propped Y/N on to a stretcher and wheeled her inside, Sam following suit till the nurse standing there pushed him back.

"You cannot go in there, Sir."

"I need to," Sam said desperately. "You don't understand…"

"No one but the patient is allowed in there. I can't let you through."

Sam was about to force his way in through the double glass doors, but two sets of arms grabbed him from behind.

"There's nothing you can do to help her, Sammy. Let the doctors do their work."

Phil stepped in front of him. "I'm sorry, Sam. It was my responsibility to look after her, make sure that she was fine when you were away. I-I…"

"It's not your fault," Sam voice was toneless. It was true. For everything that had happened tonight, for everything that had happened to her, only one person was responsible. Sam himself.

"You need to let the doctor look at you, man," Phil said. "Your back is bleeding."

Sam said nothing.

"Look at your brother. His hands have blisters. If not for your sake, do it for your brother. He needs medical attention too."

Phil wasn't wrong. There were angry welts on Deans arms and his fingers were indeed blistering, but just like Sam, he was brushing it off. So, Sam went through the motions, barely aware of what the doctor was saying about the gashes to his back. The pain was there when the shrapnel was removed, but it didn't seem to affect him. He put the bloody shirt back on and headed to the waiting area.

Nat, Meg, Kevin, Donna and Steve were waiting there along with Charlie and Phil. Their faces held fear, anger and pain.

Jody was talking to Dean in a corner.

"Do we really have to do this now?" Dean asked, livid and defeated.

"Yes, we do, Dean," Jody replied. "You know as well as I do that this is a police case. I need Sam to answer some questions for me."

Dean sighed, frustrated. "Look at him!" He pointed. "He's barely even there. You really think you'll get anything out of him?"

"He still has a right to know what happened," Jody said, chagrined.

"Know what?" Even to Sam, his voice seemed dead, arid.

Jody stepped in front of his and gingerly put a hand on his shoulder. "You need to know that we recovered Walker's burnt body from that building. Your girl is a badass. From what we could figure out, she tried to escape once. Jacked the car, saved your dog too in the process. But he managed to drag her back in. And even then, she must have fought tooth and nail and somehow pushed Walker into the fire to escape."

"She was awake… when he set the place on… fire?"

Jody looked unsure. "It's hard to say anything till the forensics come back, but Gordon was up and fighting for sure. The bastard knew where the water tank of the building was. Which was why he ran towards the northern side of the building, in an attempt to save himself. But that's what saved your girl's life. He ran away from her. Luckily, the building was mostly empty and almost all concrete. It took a long time for the fire to spread and make it back towards the southern side."

"What do you want from me?" Sam asked.

It didn't matter to Sam that Walker was dead. Nothing except Y/N waking up mattered.

Jody was quiet for a minute, then said, "You know what? That can wait. Screw the procedure. You stay put with Y/N, I'll keep checking in. You take care of yourself first." With hung shoulders she headed out.

Sam slumped into one of the chairs, eyes back on the double glass doors through which they had wheeled her in. For how long they sat quietly he didn't know, but at long last the doctor walked out.

"Are you all here for Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?"

"Yeah- yes," Dean said quickly, getting on his feet, only a split second after Sam. "How's she doing?"

The doctor cleared his throat. "We can't say for sure yet, but we're trying our best."

"What does that mean?" Dean enquired.

"She's had some major injuries, Mr.-"

"Mr. Winchester."

"She's had intensive injuries to her body, Mr. Winchester," the doctor said somberly. "Specifically the hemorrhage to her head. There's been a lot of blood loss."

Sam backed off. He didn't need to hear more of it.

"Where are you going?" Dean called.

"I need to breathe," he whispered, hurrying out as soon as he could. Then, he ran. As fast as he could.

Sam could feel the bandages on his back ripping, but even the pain it caused couldn't entirely chase the numbness and the cold dread seeping through him away. The tears came at last when he fell on to an empty park bench.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't face Y/N, couldn't even face the next minute not knowing if she'll be okay. The numbness and the pain were warring with each other so hard, it made Sam wonder how he was even alive through it.

The phone in his pocket rang. Once then twice, but Sam didn't pick it up.

It rang again.

This time with shivering hands, he clicked the button, put it to his ear.

"Sam!" Phil said, "Where are you?" His voice was worried, but it was also dull, muted.

Sam heard it before Phil even said it.

"They couldn't save her. She's gone, man."

Silence.

"Sam? Sam?" Phil shouted, anguished. "Say something."

Silence.

"You gotta say something, man. Just come back. Dean… Well… Dean's asking for you. You gotta come back for him. What do I tell him?"

"Tell him Sam's gone too."

The phone clicked. Then dropped on the ground, splitting in two pieces.

Sam stared at it. It hadn't been long when his 'O' had been picking up the scattered pieces of his phone on a busy sidewalk. Sophie had been licking her face. The laughter rang in Sam's ears like a mocking echo.

The crunch was louder than that as he walked over the pieces, reducing the glass to dust.

As he walked into the night, walked away, Sam didn't know how, but he knew that one way or another this nightmare was going to end.

The little box that fell out of his pocket, fell open too, the dancing diamond glittering in the moonlight, bright like the flames of an unforgiving fire.

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A/N: I AM SO SORRY GUYS! I have the actual drabble about Dean meeting that douchebag on way for you guys too. It is sweet and fluffy!!

For those of you who are reading this for the first time, here��s what actually happens: Tic Tac Toe

Tags: @heavymetalhauswife @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @jayankles @deanssweetheart23 @blacktithe7 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @ericaprice2008 @jotink78 @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @sandlee44 @fusillirotinisamething

#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader angst #spn angst appreciation day 2018 #tic tac toe what if #ttt what if #thank god it did not happen though #haha #spn angst #Ana writes ttt #q

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a-winchester-fairytale · 6 years

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The Ride

Summary: Saying good-bye is never easy

Word Count: 3,487

Warnings: dealing with loss, character death

A/N: I wrote this one for SPN Angst Appreciation Day, set up by @percywinchester27 and @thing-you-do-with-that-thing. I got the idea when I was listening to Gary Allen's song Life Ain't Always Beautiful, but it is only loosely based on those lyrics. Please feel free to let me know what you think, and thank you for reading my writing.

He sat on the edge of the bed, a bottle in his hand and a dead look behind the tears in his eyes. Occasionally a small gasp of a cry would escape from his lips just after he took another drink. The sound ran through him, shattering the edges of his insides as it moved along in his veins. He hung his head, squeezing his eyes closed so tightly it hurt his lids.

Sam paused at the door, glancing in as he wandered the hall outside. He felt his own heartache, and tried to give Dean his space, but on top of it all he worried about his older brother. They had lost so many people of over the years, but you had always been the constant good in Dean’s life, restoring any last bit of hope he held in his heart. With you gone, he prayed that Dean could still feel those things through the pain….otherwise Sam didn’t know if he would ever be able to breathe again. With a deep ragged breath he wandered on down to his room, quietly closing the door as Dean ignored the sound of his boots as he wandered away.

You stood in the corner, tethered to the love you shared with the eldest Winchester. You ignored the reaper before, begging for just one more moment with Dean before you left. You had a job to do before you left, and to your surprise, the reaper agreed. Maybe she knew what would become of this world if you didn’t do this; you didn’t know and you didn’t ask. You left her gratefully, allowing the breeze to take you where your heart desired to go.

“Dean….” You whispered. You saw him flinch at the sound of your voice in his ears, but he wouldn’t open his eyes. You stepped closer and knelt down in front of him, unable to feel the floor beneath your knees, as though you were floating just above it. “Open your eyes, my love.” You begged him.

“Y/N…” he practically cried your name, his voice raw even in the whisper. You waited patiently until he blinked his eyes open to see your face…your sympathetic smile.

“I’m so sorry.” You said as you watched his green eyes, the same green you always got lost in, swimming in silent tears.

“Is this real?” He finally managed to ask. You simply nodded. His shaky hands reached out, stroking you hair at first, almost afraid that you would disappear if he touched you.

Finally you reached up and held his hand against your face, leaning into it for a moment. Although you couldn’t feel the world around you, you could still feel Dean and that filled you with more comfort than anything else could have.

“You can’t stay. You know that right?” He asked cynically, his heart breaking with every word he said.

“I do, but I’ve still got time.” You told him. You knew it would be a while before you would become a vengeful spirit, especially since all you could feel when you were with Dean was love.

“Time for what?” He asked, not really caring what kept you here as long as he got to have you with him for a little longer.

“Time for you to remember.” You whispered, placing your hands on his cheeks and lightly touching his lips with your own.

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You stared out the window impatiently waiting, hands holding your head as your nose was practically glued to the glass.

“Y/N, they might not make it here for several more hours. Why don’t you come eat your dinner?” Your mom called from the dining room.

“I’m waiting for Dean and Sam!” You insisted stubbornly. Your mom started to protest, but her voice was drowned out by the sound of John’s car pulling onto the dirt road that led to the house. You jumped up from the couch, running out of the front door and leaping off the porch, your mother’s warning to be careful barely audible from inside the house.

John barely had the car stopped before they were out of the back seat, wrestling in the dirt before following you out to the treehouse your dad had built years ago for your brother. You had barely been a year old when he was killed, and John had helped your father kill the monster as you stayed safe in your mother’s arms.

In the years after Mary died, John brought the boys to stay with your parents many times, and the boys had become your closest family outside of your parents. Those first few nights, after Sammy was put to sleep in the cradle in your parents room, Dean would wake up throughout the night from nightmares.

He didn’t say much to anyone then. Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep at all, you would lead him out to the treehouse. There was something about being outside that seemed to calm him some.

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

“It was you more than being outside.” Dean said to you. “I remember you used to read to me the same way I read to Sam when he couldn’t sleep. You took away those nightmares and if I remember right, you were the first person I wanted to say anything to.”

“Do you remember what it was?” You asked with a mischievous smirk. You watched as he squinted his eyes and tried to remember. Suddenly a smile slowly crept onto his lips.

“Thanks for the ride.” He replied, remembering you peddling your bike to the store, with Dean standing on the back spokes. Sammy was going through a faze when he wouldn’t eat anything except Mac/Cheese and your parents didn’t have any in the cabinet. You, of course, wouldn’t let Dean take your brand new bike to town, but you offered to let him ride it with you.

You couldn’t hold that laugh inside of you anymore and Dean relished in the sound, feeling lightness in his chest. You stood and jumped up on the bed behind him. Dean set the bottle in his hand on the nightstand and pushed himself back until he was leaning against the headboard, reaching down to take your hand in his. You held his hand in both of yours, bringing his fingers up to your lips.

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

You were giggling with some of your girlfriends as you all made your way down the front steps of the high school toward the buses.

“Y/N…” You heard a familiar voice echo in the archway and turned to see Dean standing next to his dad’s car in a jacket that was too big for him, but flattered him just the same. It took you a moment to believe what your eyes were seeing.

“Dean!” You finally exclaimed, running into his waiting arms when he didn’t disappear. He laughed, lifting you off the pavement and spinning you around before setting you back on your feet.

“What are doing here?” You asked between kisses, ignoring the feeling of your friends stares burning a hole in your back.

“Dad had a job in a town a couple of hours from here. I convinced him to let me take the impala to school so I dropped Sam off and drove here.” He answered honestly, a hint of rebelliousness in his tone.

“You’re going to get in so much trouble.” You warned him, laughing.

“Totally worth it.” He shrugged, leaning down to kiss you once more before leading you to the passenger side door.

He took the long way home, taking each curve in the road slower than normal just so he could spend more time with you. You caught him watching you instead of the road several times and you blushed each and every one.

“What are you staring at Winchester?” You challenged after the 3rd or 4th time you caught him looking. Dean’s laugh vibrated with confidence.

“You.” He answered simply. You ducked you head and rolled your eyes, but you slid closer to him. As he laid his arm across the seat behind you, you rested your head on his shoulder, grateful for the moments you shared before he had to leave.

When he pulled up to your house, you glanced down at the clock. You knew he would never make it back to the hotel without his dad knowing what he had done, but still he wanted to linger. He missed you, and the constant phone calls just weren’t enough. Now that he was sitting next to you, the smell of your perfume waiting in the air, he didn’t want to leave. You knew you had to be the one to say good-bye first, because Dean never would.

“Thanks for the ride.” You whispered against his lips before sealing your farewell once more with a kiss. Without another word you climbed out of the car before you lost the nerve to let him go. He didn’t drive away at first, loving the way your hair bounced as you ran to the porch, glancing behind you and waiving before you went inside. You walked straight to the window and watched him drive away.

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“I didn’t get to drive that car again for months.” Dean remembered aloud. “Never regretted it once.” He added and you smiled tenderly at him.

“That’s not the only time you got in trouble in that car. I still remember when your dad caught us the first time we…..” You teased and Dean put his hand up to stop you from finishing that thought.

“I didn’t regret that one either.” He teased back, nuzzling your neck where he knew it tickled you. You squealed, putting your hands on his shoulders as you squirmed slightly out of his grip.

He was still smiling when you laid back down beside him. He let his fingers twirl through your hair as he studied your face, his eyes resting on yours for several minutes before glancing down to your lips. You saw the shadow return to his features and you frowned.

“What is it?” You asked, worried.

“I wake up in the morning and I have to remind myself that you aren’t lying next to me.” Dean admitted. “How am I ever supposed to do this without you?”

“You’ve always been the strongest person I know.” You said confidently.

“Only because you made me that way.” He replied. You looked down, feeling his pain run through you. You had almost forgotten that this was only temporary, that it couldn’t last.

“It will get easier.” You told him, trying to sound optimistic. “It will get hurt a little less each day and one day you might even love someone else, and that’s okay.”

“I love you.” He stressed each word to prove that he couldn’t fathom that day ever coming. You just smiled, knowing that there was no words that would overcome his stubbornness.

“I love you too.” You said simply. You wrapped your hands around his neck, massaging your fingers though the short hair on the nape of his neck as you leaned into him. You heard a hum coming from deep within him as you kissed him passionately.

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

“That smells so good, Y/N” Dean said, coming up behind you and snaking one arm around your waist. He buried his face in your neck, kissing your skin as he snuck one of the bite sized deserts you were decorating.

“Dean!” You exclaimed, playfully swatting at his hand. “Those are for after dinner.”

“I couldn’t help myself.” He said, spinning you into him and planting a kiss on your lips.

“hmmmm. Sweet.” You commented, crinkling your nose slightly at him.

“Not half as sweet as you.” He replied, kissing the tip of your nose before turning to follow his brother into the living room.

You giggled to yourself, enjoying seeing Dean at peace. There had been so many struggles lately, but now things were calm and the bunker was beginning to feel like home. You slipped the apron off and set the timer for the dinner you had cooking in the oven before joining them in the other room.

“I don’t understand, Dean. Why must I wager money before I see the rest of the cards?” Castiel asked, grabbing the instruction booklet Sam had given him.

You laughed along with Sam as Dean tried to explain the point of poker to him. You slid down on the couch beside Dean, resting your head on his shoulder. He instinctively moved his hand so that it rested comfortably on your thigh.

You placed your hand over his and then lightly traced the mark on the inside of his forearm with your other. As much as you believed in Dean, you were worried about the things Castiel had warned you and Sam about the mark. When you noticed Dean watching you, you smiled in an effort to hide the concern you felt.

“I love you.” Dean mouthed the words and you did the same back.

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

“I’ve put you through so much over the years. Sometimes I just can’t believe you stayed.” Dean admitted.

“I never thought about leaving, Dean. Not once.” You said seriously.

“I don’t remember a time when you weren’t in my life.” He admitted, and you let out an airy laugh at the memory that ran through your mind…one of three little children playing together in a field of gold.

“I always will be.” You reassured him. “One day, when your work is done, we will be together again. You’ll see, I will be waiting for you….just like I always have.”

Dean took your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours. You could feel the sadness inside you mirroring his own. He kept his eyes on your hand as he brought it to his lips, closing his eyes tightly as he kissed your fingers. You moved your thumb to wipe away a tear that had escaped.

“Thank you for that. You always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself and I don’t know if I ever told you how much that meant.” He began. “Loving you was the best thing I ever did with my life, and I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.”

You smiled, laying your head on his chest and he rolled onto his back and wrapped his arms tightly around you.

“You see, Dean? That’s what I needed you to remember. That it’s worth it.” You told him. You had always believed that the best part of life was all the little moments. You had always tried to help Dean see that, but so often he had to focus on the big things – the wars, the struggles – and the little things were sometimes lost in the process.

“We had a hell of a ride, didn’t we?” He asked, chuckling a little at his memory. He turned to see you looking up at him with a smile on your face.

“It was beautiful.” You replied. You saw his face fall a little as you began to fade.

“Don’t go…no yet” He begged a whisper.

“No, I have one last thing I want you to remember.” You told him. You scooted up until you were eye level with him, leaning your forehead against his for a moment. You knew you could never forget those eyes, that smile, his smell, but you were suddenly shaken to the core with the fear that you would never see them again.

“It’s not forever, it’s just for now.” He told you, seeming to read your mind. Overwhelmed with the love you felt for him in that moment, you smiled, closed your eyes, and kissed his soft lips.

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

“What do you think about pulling that rocking chair out of the store room and putting it in here?” You asked Dean as he finished putting the last picture on the wall.

“The one you got from your parents’ house?” He asked and you nodded.

“Mom used to rock me and my brother in it when we were little and I think her mother did the same with her.” You explained, worried for a moment that it would bother him since he didn’t have any family airlooms to add to the room. He smiled and kissed your temple.

“I think its nice. I’ll go get it and dust it off for you.” He whispered in your ear, resting a hand on your swelling stomach before he started out of the door. You grabbed his hand to stop him and he looked at you curious.

“What?”

“You just make me so happy, Winchester.” You teased, a childish smirk on your face. His tongue swept across his lips before he smiled at you. “I feel like our story has been a fairy tale.”

“As much as I love that you think that, I don’t know how, after everything I’ve put you through. It was far from perfect.” He told you honestly, but you shrugged off his somber tone.

“Not the way I plan on telling it.” You told him defiantly, giving him a playful wink.

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

When Dean woke next, his room was once again empty. He felt his heart break a little at your absence, but this time he left the bottle where it was. Instead, Dean walked out of the bedroom and wandered to the spare room at the end of the hall. He stood quietly in the doorway, watching as Jody lifted a little bundle from the crib set up in the room. The light reflected well off of the lavender color you had chosen to paint the walls, making the room seem airy and fresh even though there were no windows in the underground bunker.

“Hi, hun.” Jody welcomed Dean, breaking his thoughts. He managed a small grin in response and then his eyes fell on the child in her arms. “You want to hold her?” She asked gently.

“Yeah.” Dean answered, stepping into the room. Jody laid the baby carefully into Dean’s arms, making sure to remind him to support the baby’s head.

“I’ll go warm a bottle.” Jody offered, resting a hand on Dean’s shoulder before giving him a moment alone with his daughter.

Dean sat down in the rocking chair and just held his little girl, moving the chair slightly with his foot. He was memorized by the way she watched him with such intensity and concentration.

You watched from beside Dean, making sure to stay in the veil so he wouldn’t see you. “Thank you for letting me stay.” You whispered to the reaper beside you.

“You deserved to be able to meet your daughter.” The reaper replied simply. Knowing that it was time, you blew a kiss to the infant in his arms. You nodded, allowing the reaper to take you in her arms so you could move on.

“You doing okay?” Jody asked, and Dean looked up at her. He nodded, his eyes falling back down when he felt the tiniest hand wrap itself around his finger.

“She looks like Y/N, don’t you think?” He asked Jody, his eyes tracing over every feature of her tiny face. Jody smiled as she bit back a few tears.

“She looks like both of you.” She couldn’t help but correct him, relieved when Dean smiled, a light chuckle appearing in his voice. The baby squirmed a little in his arms, letting out a little yawn before focusing again on Dean’s face.

“Can I feed her?”

“Of course.” Jody answered, handing Dean the bottle.

Jody waited for a moment, making sure that the baby would take it easily before she eased her way out of the room. She stopped just outside the doorway when she saw Sam walking toward the room. He looked confused when she stopped him, but when he started to say something she put her finger to her lips to silence him.

“What?” He mouthed the words, but before Jody could answer him, Sam heard Dean’s voice coming from the nursery.

“Let me tell you the story….” Dean started, his voice barely above a loving whisper.

“Is he….?” Sam whispered pointing from Dean’s room to the nursery. Jody nodded, shooing him back toward the rest of the bunker.

“Once there was this little girl, and she became best friends with a little boy not much older than you, and his kid brother….” Dean continued, his voice quieter as Sam followed Jody away from the room.

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jayankles · 6 years

Text

Early Hours of the Morning

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 774

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, another spoiler in the tags

Summary: It’s all fluffy and cute with Sam and a baby on the way until seven months later werewolves are involved

Rating: Teen & Up

Written for @spngenrebingo / @imagineteamfreewill meg’s chicon challenge / spn angst appreciation day 2018

Square Filled: Werewolves

Prompt: “It’s the middle of the night, what do you want?”

A/N - y’all can blame @percywinchester27 and @thing-you-do-with-that-thing for this!

A/N 2 - Sorry, Sammy!

Feedback is Gold and appreciated

You were in an uncomfortable position, these days you couldn’t catch a break, always bent over to take the pain away and stretch out your back but you were never comfortable and you wouldn’t be until another two and a half months.

You just wanted this baby out of you!

Hot and sweaty, you drug your hand over the back of your neck, the back of your hand wiping the sweat from your brow, you sat up, pillows piled up against the headrest whilst you tried to get a little more but it was not happening.

Throwing off the duvet, you poked at Sam’s arm, trying to wake him until you realised it was a little rude to wake the poor sleeping man but when you came to the realisation, it was far too late. He was already starting to stir from his sleep and you knew it was too late for you to scoot down and pretend you were still asleep.

“What the heck is going on?” His voice rough and ragged, sleep filled. “It’s the middle of the night, what do you want?”

Sam was on his stomach pushing up on his elbow, squinting his eyes up at you, adjusting his eyes to see you in the previously dark room until you had turned the lamp on, the light illuminating the room a little too much for Sam’s taste. He just wanted to get back to sleep.

You sniffled, rubbing at the large bump that had grown on your stomach. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have woke you. Go back to sleep.”

Not following your soft orders, he sat up, wrapping his arm around you, trying to get you to take a deep breath and tell him why you had woken him up in the middle of the night.

You lent forward, taking his arm from behind you off of you, “I’m so hot and I can’t sleep. There’s no comfortable position for me to sleep in. I’m hungry all the time but I’m so fat. And god, I need sex too and I can’t even get myself off because I’m too big and the bump is in the way and you need your sleep and-”

Sam’s large hand spread wide across growing bump, the baby kicking with such brute force when they felt their father’s hand. “I see you’re awake and givin’ your momma a hard time, huh, bubba?” He spoke the the baby before looking up at you. “Hold tight and I’ll go get you some cookies and ice cream, and later if you are still up for it, we can do whatever you are feeling up to doing. It’s all for you, you say and I do.”

“Really?” You asked, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and making your nose tingle. “You would do that for me? What happened to ‘it’s the middle of the night?’”

“Of course I would, baby. I’d walk to the ends of the earth for you.”

“That was way too cheesy but I’ll take it because i’d rather you say it now than do it. I don’t need you walking away from me. We need you right here. All of us, and that is the way it is going to stay.” You nodded with certainty, decision made - you weren’t going to lose him - he was too important to you, he always made sure that you were okay, putting yours and everyone else’s needs above his own. He was your hero and no one could convince you otherwise.

Sam Winchester was a hero, he proved that seven months later, when he threw himself in front of a family, saving them from a pack of werewolves but by the time he had shot a silver bullet into half of them, the other half were on him and it was too late when Dean to came to the rescue.

When Dean came back to break the news, you stopped breathing and thanked god that you weren’t holding Will at the time because you had collapsed to the floor without warning, a scream tearing through your throat at not seeing the love of your life ever again with loving eyes, with that gorgeous smile, or the shine in those kaleidoscopic eyes. You would never even argue with Sam again, even if they were harsh or stupid; in the end you still made up and got back to a strong cohesive unit.

Never again will you feel love for another man until Will grows up because what was the point in loving another when you had William - the carbon copy of Sam - to love and take care of.

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chucksangelsforever · 6 years

Text

Maybe

Dean x Reader

Warnings: Single parent, semi-descriptive character death, angst

Word count: 550-ish

Summary: Dean has a near-death experience, and sees someone he thought was gone forever

[[More]]

Being too afraid to blink wasn't one of Deans problems in life, but in death, that's exactly what it was. He missed her warm smile that reached her face, just as it was doing now, and the way she looked at him whenever he allowed himself to cry. Everything he missed was standing right there in front of him, arms length away, and he was afraid that if he moved, she would disappear again.

But instead, her warm hand placed itself on his cheek, making his eyes widen at how real this all felt. This dream of her becoming all to real, until the memories of before hit him hard. It started from meeting her, and ended with the vampire hunt gone wrong. From her smiling face, to Sam's distraught one. He couldn't help but feel guilty.

Her soft thumb brushed away the constant flow of tears, as her lips pressed softly against his. He never really understood how she could make him feel at home in the worst of times, or how she could calm him down with just a simple touch, but it didn't matter then. She was in Heaven, and so was he.

"S-She prays to you." Dean said with a sad smile as his hands held hers. "E-Every night before bed, she won't let me go until she says goodnight to you."

She shook her head softly. "I know."

"W-We miss you, (Y/N)." He sniffled.

A tear rolled down her cheek. "I know."

Images of his daughter flashed through his mind, her joy filled face as the three of them walked in the park, right to her sad one as just the two of them walked side by side in silence. He remembered hearing her ask Castiel if her mother was an angel, only for him to reply with the most heartfelt thing Dean had ever heard him say.

"She isn't an angel, because she is far better than all of us combined." He spoke with a smile, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Your mother is a hero, (D/N)."

"She's growing so strong." Dean said through broken words. "She takes after you."

"She's strong because of you." She replied, looking into his eyes."I know she'll be fine because she has you."

Another memory entered his mind, one that haunted his nightmares, and would forever. He watched her body hit the floor as she struck the vampire though the abdomen, landing with the knife going through her chest. Dean slid on his knees to her, holding her head up as she couches up blood.

"Take care of her." She choked out, her hand holding Deans against her face. "I love you."

With a cry of pain Deans knees hit the floor, causing confusion to wreck his brain. "What's happening?!"

"It's not your time." She smiled, kneeling in front of him. "She still needs you."

"I-I won't leave you again!" He sobbed, pulling her into a hug. "Please, don't leave me again! Please!"

"I'll always be here." She whispered into his ear. "I miss all of you."

"No!" He screamed, startling the girl sleeping on his chest. "No, no, no. I have to go back."

"Back where, Daddy?" She asked tiredly.

"I-" He froze, his mind void of an answer. "I don't-" But he could have sworn it was something important. "I don't remember."

"Was it a nightmare?" She yawned.

"Maybe, sweetheart, maybe." He replied with a gulp, staring at the blank ceiling.

He closed his eyes. Maybe it was nothing after all.

#spn angst #angst #supernatural #supernatural angst appriciation #owo whats this #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine #SPN Angst Appreciation Day 2018

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frostingsfics · 6 years

Photo

"I never told you till now...and I wish I had. I loved you Cas. I still love you. Always will. I wish you were here to hear me say this to you... I miss you..." Dean Winchester knelt down as he always did, and kissed the bumble bee shaped grave marker. Cas would've loved it. "Goodbye Cas..." @percywinchester27 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

#SPN Angst Appreciation Day 2018 #destiel #death #major character death #sad dean #dean winchester #castiel #elijah loves kari #elijah loves ana #june 23 #posted at 8 am Michigan time

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roxyspearing · 6 years

Text

Get your tissues ready...

In honour of yesterday's SPN angst appreciation day, today's Sunday spotlight is all about the pain and heartache 😢

#the sunday spotlight #the angsty edition #warning: tissues required #roxy recommends #what im reading #spn angst appreciation day 2018

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katymacsupernatural · 6 years

Text

A Hard Goodbye

Dean Winchester x Reader

900 Words

Written For: SPN Angst Appreciation Day 2018. Requested by Anon

Warnings: Angst

It was the worst type of countdown you could have imagined. Each day that passed, knowing that it was growing closer and closer to the end, it was almost too much to bear. Each night a reminder that you were down another day. Another day closer to the time you would have to fess up your greatest secret.

With only days left, you were always on edge, jumping at the slightest noise. Your hands always seemed to tremble, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. If Dean noticed, he didn’t say anything, and for that you were grateful. Because it gave you time to figure out what to do.

It wasn’t until you started to see things that you knew a decision had to be made. Dean was starting to get curious, asking if you were feeling okay, staying close by your side. After sending him on a useless errand, you sat down on your shared bed.

“This is it,” you whispered, staring at everything you had come to hold dear. The memory foam mattress that Dean had fallen in love with. The soft flannel comforter you had forced him to buy. With tears in your eyes, you picked up the photo album you had started only months ago when you realized your time was fleeting. Pictures of you and Dean. Cuddling on the bed, sitting and watching the stars. Pictures of the three of you taken by Jody, showing how happy your life had been.

Reaching over to the nightstand, you opened the drawer, pulling out the notepad you kept there. “Dean, I’m sure by the time you find this note I’ll be long gone. Please forgive me for the words I said, I meant none of them. I love you, more than I thought I could love another person. You made me so very happy, and I hope that I made you happy as well. Those words I said were meant to keep you from following me. You see, I made a deal ten years ago, never imagining I would find something to live for. Someone. I had sold my soul, the reason doesn’t matter, and as the days ticked away, I knew I couldn’t have you there when the hellhounds finally came to get me. I’d rather have you mad at me then watch me be torn apart. So I left. I hope in time you’ll forgive me. But I also hope that in time, you’ll be able to move on. I will always love you, but I hope you find someone that you can love again.”

Tears dotted the paper as you folded it up, placing it in the photo album next to your favorite picture. Shutting it, you placed it back in its place just as Dean came back into the bunker. “Y/N, I got the items you wanted!”

Taking a deep breath, you picked up your suitcase, even though where you were going you wouldn’t need it. Pulling it behind you, you stepped into the hallway just as Dean rounded the corner. “Y/N! Wait, what’s going on?”

“Dean, I’ve done some thinking lately,” you started, trying to keep calm even though you were dying inside. “And I’ve decided it’s time for me to move on.”

“What the hell? I thought this thing between us was special,” Dean answered the bag slipping from his fingers as he strode forward.

“Sure, maybe it was to you. But Dean, I need to move on. To something normal,” you insisted.

“So, this was just a temporary distraction, was that it? A fling before you went back to someone boring?”

“Everything is temporary, this was merely one of those things,” you told him. “So, goodbye Dean. I wish you well.”

“No,” he muttered as turned around. Partly so you could leave, partly so he would see the tears threatening to fall. “No, I can’t believe this. You couldn’t have faked those emotions.”

“Maybe they weren’t fake. Maybe I did feel something, for a while. But it’s faded, and I want to leave before we make fools of ourselves.”

“Fine,” he spat. “Then go! Leave this life, and leave me. But Y/N, if you walk out that door, I swear to Chuck that you will never be welcomed back.”

It was what you had wanted, but hearing the venom in Dean’s voice directed at you was enough to have your knees buckling. Trying to stay strong, you continued forward. “I guess that’s a choice I’ll have to make.”

He didn’t move to follow you, exactly as you had hoped. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out into the fresh air, immediately getting drenched. “Of course it’s raining,” you muttered, but at least it covered the tears pouring down your cheeks.

“I can help with that,” An accented voice announced from beside you. Turning to face the man in the dark, tailored suit, you immediately knew who he was. Sure, you had a day left before your sentence was up, but it wasn’t like you had anything to live for anymore.

“Sure,” you agreed, reaching out and taking his hand, leaving your suitcase on the side of the road.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acreativelydifferentlove @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @aubreystilinski @bebravekeeponfighting @bobasheebaby @brindz30 @colette2537 @crusadedean @darthshreydar @dean-winchesters-bacon @deanwinchesters-impala67 @haelyn @horsegirly99 @ikeneasul11 @imascio08 @its-not-a-tulpa @just-another-winchester @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @librarygeekery @mlovesstories @msimpala67 @love-charmer-sketch @michirutenshi @pisces-cutie @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @shadowhunter7 @sizzlingbearpolice @sleep-silent-angel @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @thegrungequeer @thewinchestergirl1208 @torn-and-frayed @wonderfulworldofwinchester

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eileen-winchester85 · 6 years

Text

SPN ANGST APPRECIATION DAY 2018

TW: Grief

⚠️ WARNING!!!⚠️ SPOILERS!!!!

If you haven't watched up to season 11 or 12, there are some spoilers.

Dean tried to block out the pain. Every time it was different kind of hurt. The pain after Bobby was a sharp blade of pain that kept twisting in his gut, the pain of his mom was the dull throb that plagued his mind while he was awake, and all of the people who he hadn't meant to kill haunted his dreams. This time wasn't special. In fact, this pain was worse.

"Dean. Dean? You okay?"

His mind snapped back into reality just as fast as he'd slipped away from it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Whatcha reading," he asked with a chug of his drink.

Sam's eyebrows were still drawn together with worry, but he didn't press Dean on the subject anymore. There wasn't any reason Sam would keep asking him about it, being as he knew exactly what it was that was bothering him so much.

Except, Sam did ask him about it. Figures.

"Hey, do you want to talk about it?"

He felt his jaw clench and his body stiffen as he replied with a voice that shook more than he intended.

"No. I don't." With that he finished off his fourth drink and left the bunker without another word.

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

After leaving the bunker with a note left on the fridge, Dean drove to a nearby town bar. He needed a distraction from this. Only, when he got there, he couldn't get out of the Impala for some reason. So instead he sat in the Impala and let the emotions surface for the first time since the funeral.

"GODDAMMIT," he screamed and kicked the dash. Instantly Dean stopped. He opened the door and dropped down to see if he hurt his baby. When he saw that he hadn't dented her, the tears started flowing again.

Although knowing he was still tipsy from the drinks, Dean started to drive again, and didn't stop despite the fact that he kept swerving over the line. He just had to drive. Dean wasn't even sure where, he was just set on the fact that he had to keep driving.

He drove until he had no idea where he was, and only then did he stop at a bar with a motel across the road.

I'm too sober, kept running through his mind. He luckily had forgotten to take a drink with him, which had saved his life as now he was sober enough to drive straight. Unfortunately, Dean didn't see being sober as a positive thing that night. So he went to the bar and drunk his pain away.

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

He woke the next morning to someone pounding on the motel door. Instantly he shot up in bed, startling the girl next to him. Looking down at her, he realized he didn't even recognize her. Last night was just a fuzzy memory of shot after shot and trying to forget.

The pounding continued and Dean shot out of bed, throwing on his jeans and grabbing his pistol out of his back pocket. He then motioned for the girl to hide under the bed. She slid out of the bed, he brown hair messy around her olive skin, and quietly went under the bed.

Once Dean was sure she was safe, he positioned himself to the side of the door and flung it open.

"Dean, don't shoot!"

It was Sam. Dean dropped the gun to his side but kept the same steely face he'd had when he left the bunker last evening. The memories came back to him in one pounding headache of a hangover.

"How'd you find me?"

"You checked out under the name we usually do when we need to find each other." Sam looked around the room. "Mind if I come in," he asked, noticing Dean had neglected to invite him in.

"No. Go home Sam, I'll be back in a bit."

"Do you even know where you are Dean? Look, I know you're suffering, but that doesn't mean you need to go pushing me away. I'm going through this too-"

"Don't even talk about her. You have no right after what you did," after that he slammed the door in Sam's face.

He turned around to find the girl dressed and gathering her things. When they made eye contact she said, "I won't ask, but you're gonna need these after last night." And with that, she hands him a bottle of Advil and walks out.

As soon as she leaves, Dean opens the bottle and downs the two Advil she left in there for him and takes out the thirty dollars she handed him for the room. Having already paid for the room, Dean went out to buy more booze.

But on his way to the liquor store, he saw someone selling flowers in a parking lot. And, without thinking, he pulled off the road and bought some.

The lady who was selling them looked to be in her mid sixties and had a kind smile, so naturally when Dean picked some roses out the lady asked him if they were for a lady friend.

"No," he replied. "They're for my sister, Charlie."

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thing-you-do-with-that-thing · 6 years

Text

Don’t Take the Girl

Pairing: Jenneel

Square Filled: Surgical Complications for @spnangstbingo

Warnings: Major character death.

Word Count: 560

A/N: Blame @riversong-sam for requesting this. It hurt like hell to write and I might actually have cried while writing!

Not betaed. All mistakes are mine

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Jensen felt numb and as if he had been moving around in a daze ever since the doctor had pushed him out of the operating room 5 days ago. He remembered falling to his knees watching the door close behind him. He knew Gino had been at his side in an instant, but he hadn’t registered a word his brother in law was saying. He didn’t hear the commotion or the sounds around him. He didn’t hear Deb’s crying or Ed trying to soothe her. All he saw was the images of his happy, smiling wife flashing before his eyes.

He remembered the day he realized he had fallen in love with her and how terrified he had been asking her out. He had practiced in front of his mirror for hours that day, but the bright smile she had given him when he finally got out the words, make all the suffering worth it. He had known after that first date that she was the one. She had been his friend for years but something between them had shifted. She was the girl he was going to marry one day. The one he was supposed to grow old with. This wasn’t how their story was supposed to end.

As Jensen sat on the floor he recalled out beautiful she had been walking down the aisle and how she had completely knocked the air from his lungs. She was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen and she had given herself to him forever. Forever couldn’t be over yet.

Jensen wiped the tears from his eyes as he made it through the now empty home. The silence was deafening. His newborn twins were sleeping peacefully in the nursery he and Danneel had put the final touches on just 10 days ago. He leaned against the doorframe watching them and tears flooded his eyes again, when he realized they would never get to know their mom.

Jensen remembered praying that night in the hospital. Begging to whoever was listening to not take Danneel away from them. The kids needed her. Her family and friends needed her. She was the strongest most amazing women Jensen had ever met and he couldn’t picture a world without her. Not he had to live in one. No one had answered his prayers to take him instead and let her live. He was now a single father of three and he had absolutely no idea what to do. He didn’t even know how to breathe without the woman he loved so much.

“Dee. I don’t know how to do this,” he whispered into the room. “I need your help. You were always the strong one. Please…”

“Daddy?” Jensen jerked around at the sound of JJ’s small voice coming from behind him. He thought she had been asleep. He knelt down, when she reached her arms up to him and embraced her.

“Don’t cry Daddy. Mommy would want us to be happy the twins are home,” she said quietly as she clung to him, and Jensen squeezed his eyes shut. Danneel hadn’t left him. Not completely. She lived on in JJ, just like she would live on in Arrow and Zeppelin. Just like that breathing got a little easier, even if he was sure the hole she had left in his heart would be there forever.

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Padackles Tag Team (Jenneel and Jarevieve)

@mrspadalackles @roxyspearing @blacktithe7 @atc74 @mogarukes @crushing83 @theoriginalvick @jensen-gal @mysterious-398 @ericaprice2008 @adriellej @ashleydivine @percywinchester27 @becs-bunker @queen-of-deans-booty @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @smoothdogsgirl @ryantherandomhero @sillesworldofwriting @docharleythegeekqueen @mysupernaturalfics @evansrogerskitten @mrswhozeewhatsis @carryonmyswansong @thelittleredwhocould @super100012 @opeeta @cassieraider @lonelygolheart @jayankles @ambermei @oneshoeshort @grace-for-sale @speakinvain @plaid-lover-bay25 @jessyackles @sea040561 @petra-arkanian-1497 @serienjunkiegirl @unicornblood4ever

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#spn angst appreciation day 2018 #jenneel #jensen x danneel #jensen ackles #danneel ackles #danneel x jensen #spn rpf #spn angst #spn fanfiction

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yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend · 6 years

Text

The Ghost of You

Dean x Reader

Summary: The memories of yours and Dean’s relationship still haunts him.

A/N: This one is SAD y’all. I wrote it for Angst Appreciation Day, but I’m not sure if people are doing it this year, so I’m posting it now. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. The story is inspired by the Sam Smith song “Palace.” The lyrics are placed throughout the story. The idea’s been kicking around in my head for months, so I hope you enjoy it as much as you can despite the angst.

Beta: The wonderful @lastactiontricia “Fuuuuucccccckkkkkk - man you’re twisting the knife here.” and “Well this is fucking heartbreaking.” Also a big thank you to @hannahindie for letting me bounce some ideas about Dean off of you.

Warnings: Miscarriage and the aftermath of it. Please don’t read this if it would be triggering for you!

(gif from @canonspngifs)

My head is filled with ruins

Most of them are built with you

Now the dust no longer moves

Don't disturb the ghost of you

Mmm

Every so often, Dean caught it once more – the scent of her perfume as it lingered in the air of the bunker. The floral notes had fused together with the air molecules and would make appearances at the most inopportune of times. They’d dance past his nose as he sat in the library researching lore for the hunt of the week, or as he tinkered with the Impala’s engine in the garage. It was like one of the ghosts they would hunt, only salt and iron couldn’t put this one down. The most torturous of times was in their old bedroom, where one of his shirts sat. The Led Zeppelin tee had been a favorite of hers to wear to bed, and it still smelled like her. He knew deep down that it was time to wash it and move on. It had been almost a year, after all. But in moments of weakness – like tonight after having a few beers – he found himself sitting on the edge of his bed holding the soft balled up fabric in his hands, allowing himself to be swept away in the memories of her.

They are empty, they are worn

Tell me what we built this for

On my way to something more

You're that one I can't ignore

Mmm

“Your staring is making me self-conscious,” she said without turning from the book she was reading.

Dean had been cleaning his gun at the desk in his room when he noticed her lying on their bed reading. There, on her stomach, in only that Led Zeppelin shirt and her lacy black underwear. With her hair messily gathered up in a bun at the top of her head -she was so beautiful, and he was so caught up in it he had stopped what he was doing.

“I can’t help it. You look so…” he felt a boyish blush come across his face as she looked over her shoulder to him. He had been caught. “You just look so damn gorgeous.”

She gave a faint smile and turned back to dog ear her spot in her book. It was probably a book of poetry or one of the classics that always went over his head. She was smart and cultured enough to read things like that for fun, and he knew he didn’t deserve her. She gracefully pushed herself up from her stomach and shifted to the side of the bed. Her feet dangled delicately as she continued to just stare into his green eyes. They were across the room from one another, yet the whole thing seemed intimate and close.

The mattress beneath her gave a quiet creak as she came to her feet. A slight smirk danced across her lips as she took slow, deliberate steps towards him. Without consciously telling himself to do so, he turned his body in his seat to face her more. As she approached him, she straddled his legs.

Her hands began to explore the familiar hills and valleys of his broad chest and shoulders, slipping beneath the open sides of his button down and pushing it down his arms. She dragged her hands tortuously back up his arms, past his neck and stubble-covered cheeks, and into his hair. He involuntarily shut his eyes and leaned his head back into her palms. Her hips gave the slightest thrust forward, just enough to cause the tension that was already growing in his pants to increase and for him crave more. She began trailing kisses up from his neck to his lips.

“Damn, babe,” was all he could manage as they came up for air. He’d seen this side of her many times before, but every time it happened, it still drove him insane.

She looked down at him with a devilish smirk. “Sam’s going to be out for a few more hours, you know.”

No, he definitely didn’t deserve her.

I'm gonna miss you

I still care

Sometimes I wish we never built this palace

But real love is never a waste of time

Mmm

She had been in the bathroom for almost an hour now. She had been feeling sick for weeks, and was only on this hunt with him and Sam now because she fought tooth and nail for it. After the simple salt and burn, they were resting for the night in another dingy motel room. Sam had gone out to get food not too long ago, and the quietness of the room made Dean notice her absence.

“Y/N? Are you okay, babe?” he said with a light knock on the bathroom door. “Did you fall in?” he gave an amused chuckle and looked around for someone’s approval, only to be met with the empty room.

She opened the door while he was still mid-chuckle. Her face was painted with shock and hints of confusion. She stood in front of him staring up, searching those familiar green eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She said nothing, simply grabbed his hand and placed something in it. He looked down at the white stick with a tiny screen that simply stated “Pregnant.”

“You’re -?” he couldn’t form the rest of the sentence. The whole room suddenly felt like it was a thousand degrees. The collar of his shirt felt constricting around his neck and he felt the sweat beginning to bead.

“Yeah,” she nodded slowly and rolled her bottom lip under her teeth. She watched him for a few moments longer. He continued to stare at the stick in his hands. “Well, are you going to say anything?”

“This – this is…” he let out a heavy breath. His mind was swimming.

Her face fell. “You don’t want this,” she shook her head and pushed past him, making her way to the bed.

“No it’s not that,” he turned and followed her. “It’s just a surprise is all.”

“Really?” she looked back up at him.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, “Really.”

Yeah I know just what you're saying

And I regret ever complaining

About this heart and all its breaking

It was beauty we were making

Mmm

But, truthfully, it was that. He didn’t want this. As he lay in bed at night staring up at the ceiling, her body tucked in close to his, he thought about it. It made him sick to his stomach to think about how happy Y/N was for this baby and he wasn’t. The glow she had now as she walked around the bunker, it was enchanting. But every part of him felt awful for not wanting this baby.

He thought he had wanted kids back when there was the possibility that Ben was his. He was so disappointed that he wasn’t the father. But that was before literally stopping the apocalypse, before the end of the world, before dying and seeing his brother die. There was too much darkness in this world. Too many monsters and demons and even angels with vendettas against him that could use his child as a way to exact revenge. He was already dancing on the edge having Y/N in his life. Anyone could use her to get to him.

He wished this baby wasn’t happening. Bile crept up his throat at the thought of the unspoken words, and he hated himself for them.

It had been eighteen weeks along in the pregnancy now. Y/N was still so excited and glowing. “You know, the baby’s now the size of one of these,” she held up the bell pepper she was beginning to cut into to show Dean. “Isn’t that crazy?”

Dean simply smiled. Despite all his reservations about the pregnancy, seeing the woman he loved so excited for it made him happy. “I wonder if he has seeds, too,” he joked.

“Excuse you, but it’s a girl. I’m sure of it.” She pointed the knife at him as she spoke, a confident smile lighting up her face.

Dean twisted his own into a questioning frown. “Mmm… I’m not so sure. The Winchesters are all men. That’s just the way it is.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned back to her pepper, smile still gracing her features.

And I know we'll both move on

You'll forgive what I did wrong

They will love the better you

But I still own the ghost of you

Mmm

“Dean, come in here,” Y/N’s voice was loud, but shaky as it called him from down the hallway. “I think something’s wrong.”

At her last words, Dean sprung up from his seat in the library and ran to their bedroom. When he turned to look in he made eye contact with Y/N before she immediately doubled over in pain.

“Something’s wrong,” she said again through tears.

He ran over to her to hold her up. “Let’s get you to the hospital,” was all he could think to say.

The drive to the hospital took forever, it seemed. Y/N was in extreme amounts of pain and her tears would not stop coming. She let out a tearful groan with every red light they hit. Dean’s heart was breaking even as it threatened to beat out of his chest. When they finally arrived at the hospital, a seasoned emergency room nurse brought them back to a room. And there they waited. Y/N’s pain had either subsided or she had run out of tears.

“Everything will be all right, babe,” Dean said as he held her hand. His thumb gently rubbed circles over the back of it.

She said no words, only gave a sniffle as she lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. He was sure she was still in a great amount of pain, but the tough nature he loved so much about her had taken over and stopped her from crying.

The doctor came in to check on her. He was silent for a moment as he collected his thoughts. The words he needed to say were not easy to say or hear. “Your cervix is fully dilated, Y/N, like you’re about to give birth.”

Y/N looked at the doctor then to Dean. Dean was the one who found words first.

“Well, can’t we un-dilate it?” he asked.

The doctor gave a sympathetic frown. “It’s not that simple. There’s not a way to reverse it,” he paused for a moment, thinking again, “and the baby can’t survive outside the womb at this stage of development.”

Realization hit the two of them like a speeding train. “Are you saying that –” Y/N began, tears welling in her eyes.

The doctor gave a solemn nod. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing else that can be done.” He stood from his seat, “I’ll get the nurse to give you some meds and set you up for the D&C.”

And with that, he took his leave, leaving the two of them in suffocating silence. The only sound filling the room were Y/N’s tears. Dean sat there in shock.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” she said between sobs.

His attention was pulled back to the room and to her. “What?” he brushed the hair off her forehead. “What do you have to be sorry about? None of this is your fault, you hear me? None of this is your fault.” He wiped the tears from her cheek.

The rest of the day was a blur for the both of them. Y/N’s purposefully so, thanks to the drugs that she was given for the D&C, while Dean’s was from the sheer surrealness of the situation. Forced to leave her side and sit in the waiting room as the procedure happened, he was faced with his own thoughts.

He had wished for this. Every night as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he had wished this baby wasn’t actually happening and now it wasn’t. The worst part was that Y/N blamed herself. He felt the bile rise up his throat again and he ran to the bathroom to vomit it up.

When he was finally able to join her again, she was standing in her hospital gown, blood dripping at her feet. “You were right, it was a boy,” she said flatly. Her eyes were distant and red from crying.

Dean had never hated being right so much in his life.

I'm gonna miss you

I'm still there

Sometimes I wish we never built this palace

But real love is never a waste of time

They were never the same after that. He would find her sitting in the room they had set aside for the nursery, just holding baby blankets or onesies that they had begun to stockpile. She would cry. She would cry so much it pained him. He knew she still blamed herself, no matter how many times he told her it wasn’t her fault.

He withdrew, too. The shame that filled him for wishing this baby away. For wishing his son away. He thought of all the magic he’d seen in his years of hunting. Maybe some of that magic had rubbed off on him, allowing his wishes to come true. He would have given up his right arm to have it be any other wish besides this one. Sometimes he would stand in the bathroom alone and cry as silently as possible in front of the mirror for a few moments before splashing his face with cool water and heading back out again. He had to be strong for her. Other times, his anger would eat at him so much he would eventually just destroy the nearest object or punch the closest wall to vent his frustrations. An innocent desk chair was his most recent victim.

They began to sleep apart an inch at a time. No longer closely held together for warmth. Her grief didn’t allow her to seek it and his shame would tell him he didn’t deserve the comfort. One night led to two, which led to a week. Those weeks turned to a month which ran into more. Dean would give a quiet “good night” as he turned off the bedside lamp, she would only turn her back to him and silently cry. He knew the tears were there, he could hear the quiet sniffling in the dark, but he couldn’t help her. He was trapped in his own, quiet hell.

In the meantime, though, Y/N had thrown herself into hunting. Almost recklessly so. On one hunt, she went after a werewolf alone. Thankfully, she was able to hold her own, but Dean couldn’t hide his anger. Another time she decided she was the best vampire bait and let herself get taken back to their hideout. Once again, she came out unscathed, but Dean was furious.

“You can’t just do that, Y/N!” he yelled outside the dilapidated barn where they had just killed the vampires.

Her bright y/e/c eyes shone through the blood spatter that covered her face. Was that a hint of madness he saw? “Why not? I’m totally fine.” This wasn’t the real her. It wasn’t the woman he fell in love with.

“But next time you might not be fine!”

“I don’t really care about that, Dean!”

That night the crying stopped. She had moved past it and onto something else. This recklessness that she had, this new found passion to catch and kill every monster out there, it worried Dean. Instead of stopping her, he shut down. No more quiet “good nights” before turning off the light.

She felt the chasm between them growing, but she couldn’t stop it. He clearly didn’t want to fight for her and the only way she knew how to fight for herself was through hunting. Out of all the unknown and muddled thoughts that rattled around in her brain, one was certain: she could no longer stay with Dean at the bunker.

She called Donna and arranged to stay with her and help her hunt. As she packed her bags, the thought of leaving Dean came crashing down on her. Sobs began to wrack her body. Everything they had gone through together over the years. The loss they shared. The loss that tore them apart. It was all brought to this ending. An ending vastly different than the one she saw mere months ago.

“What’s going on?” Dean said as he came into their room to find her packing.

Y/N sniffed hard and turned to face him. She gave a deep inhale before saying what she needed to say. “I’m going to hunt with Donna.”

Dean took a moment to process her words. “Okay, when do you think you’ll be back?”

“I don’t think I’ll be back, Dean,” she sighed. “I mean I’m staying with Donna.”

It was then that Dean noticed her tear-stained cheeks and the true meaning behind her words. He knew there was no stopping her. He was tired from all the blame he buried himself under the last few months. His grief made him unrecognizable. The man he was six months ago would’ve fought harder. The man he was six months ago would’ve never let this happen. But, of course, he wasn’t that man from six months ago anymore. Instead he just stood there in silence.

“I wish you’d say something,” her voice croaked out. The crying had wrecked her voice.

He looked up at her with weary eyes and shrugged his arms out to his side. “There’s nothing to say. You’ve clearly made your decision.” His voice was cold.

She rolled her bottom lip under her teeth and gave a slow nod. She looked at the dresser, the wall, the floor; anywhere but at him. She couldn’t stand what was happening. “Yeah, I guess I have,” she sighed as she reached down for her duffel bag.

I'm gonna miss you

I'm still there

Sometimes I wish we never built this palace

But real love is never a waste of time

Dean looked down at the shirt he’d been holding as memories of her danced through his brain. He took a sip of the beer he brought into the room with him. He hoped it would steel his courage for what he was about to do. He reached into his pocket for his phone and opened it up to the right name. His thumb hovered over the call button for a moment before deciding to press it.

“Hello?” her voice came through the phone.

“Y/N?” Dean said quietly.

“Dean… what is it?” her voice sounded concerned now. “Is everything all right?”

When he closed his eyes he could picture the furrowed brow she would get when she was worried. “Everything’s fine,” he held a hand out in front of him as if it would help calm her down. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” He dropped his head with a sigh, “I’m not actually sure why I called you, really. I guess I was just thinking about us and what happened and…”

She let out a sigh of her own. “Dean – “

He cut her off, though, “It wasn’t your fault, you know?” she remained quiet on her end. “The baby? It was my fault. I lied when I said I wanted the baby. I wished that the baby wasn’t happening, and then –” he began to choke on the tears that had begun to flow freely. “I wished the baby wasn’t going to happen and then it didn’t happen. It’s my fault. It was all my fault.”

“Dean, that’s not how that sort of thing works,” her tears were evident in her voice, too. “These things happen to people all the time. I see that now.”

“Since when do things in my life just happen?” Dean said indignantly.

She sighed again, “It happens more often than you would think. Like when we met? Two hunters out on the same hunt?” the smile was back in her voice.

He thought back to that day and seeing her for the first time. God, she had looked so beautiful. “I guess you have a point,” he said more calmly. They sat in silence together for a moment. “When are you coming back? Please come back, Y/N.” he practically begged.

Another sigh. “It’s not that simple anymore, Dean.” The smile was gone now. “I’m not hunting anymore. I’ve moved on.”

“Moved on?”

“I’m a secretary at a sheriff’s station. Donna helped me get the job. And I’ve…” she paused for a moment, “I’ve met someone. We’re kind of serious.”

“How serious?” Dean wasn’t sure why he was asking. Each word she spoke felt like a hot knife being stabbed into his chest.

“Don’t ask me that,” she said barely above a whisper.

“I’m just curious,” he lied. “You’re still my friend.”

“I’m…” there was more hesitation. “I’m pregnant.” She was quiet for another moment. “We’re getting married next year.”

The hot knife was now being twisted into his heart. He felt the tears coming back but held them down. “Well, it sounds like you’re getting everything you wanted. That’s great, Y/N.” he forced a smile as if she could see it. “I’m happy for you.”

“Dean, why did you call tonight?”

He wiped away the tear that had slipped down his cheek. “I’m not sure, honestly. I just miss you. I thought I could get you to come back.”

“Dean –”

“But you’re where you’re meant to be,” he interrupted her. “You’re happy now, right?”

She thought on it for a moment, “Yes, I am.”

“Good. Good. That’s what matters most.” Another tear slipped down his cheek. He heard her sniffle on the other end of the line. “Don’t cry, okay? I’m sorry I called. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

More silence. “Okay,” she finally said with a sniff.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I better let you go. It’s late and I’m sure that little one needs rest.”

“Dean,” she swallowed hard, “I really did love you, you know. I loved you so much.”

Another twist of the knife. “I know. I loved you, too.” It was his turn to be quiet. “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you harder. You deserve the world, though. I hope he gives it to you.”

He could hear her crying on the other end again and he felt terrible. Why did he think he should call her?

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he didn’t wait for her to return the sentiment as he hung up. Guilt, anger, and grief flooded over him like a tidal wave. He threw his phone at the wall opposite him and he watched it shatter.

There was one thought he had had from the moment he met her, and now it was true: he didn’t deserve her. And now he’d never have the chance.

Tags: @pinknerdpanda @wheresthekillswitch @hannahindie @emlostinwonderland @trexrambling @escabell @jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @mrswhozeewhatsis @keepcalmandcarryondean @katymacsupernatural @boxywrites @ellen-reincarnated1967 @ravengirl94 @amanda-teaches @masksandtruths @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @just-another-busy-fangirl @not-so-natural-spn @deanssweetheart23 @feelmyroarrrr @sherlock44 @akshi8278 @supernaturalnco @mogaruke @supernatural-girl97 @hobby27

#spn fanfic #tw: miscarriage #miscarriage #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean angst #angst appreciation day 2018 #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #stuff i wrote

170 notes · View notes

seenashwrite · 6 years

Text

Reprieve

Status: Complete Word Count: 1.9K Category: One-shot; Heart-Grabber; Soul-Stirrer; Introspection; Life Choices; Redemption; Second Chances; Lessons Learned Rating: (Older) Teen & Up Character(s): Reader/Female O.C.; the second, you'll know after the first line; the third, I suppose, is optional Warnings: Moderate allusion to past trauma: suicide; see my Fic Warnings Master Post HERE, should you desire more detail without being spoiled entirely. Author’s Note: It's been suggested I tackle this subject/setting multiple times, might not be exactly how you'd imagined it playing out, but let's see if we can't remedy the situation to some degree of satisfaction because, to be sure, it's been a long time coming; More post-story Overall Summary: There are many mistakes thought lost to time, filed away as impossible to fix. But perhaps they aren’t as far gone as it seems. Perhaps it’s just that some mistakes can't be set right by the ones who'd made them.

So this was the infamous Cage.

The entrance sealed itself not a second after she'd taken her first steps, she'd known it was coming, no need to turn around. Placing a hand on the rail, she surveyed the area ahead as she began her descent. Not terribly impressive, her host, but the details of the welcome mat were an intriguing pitch, she'd give it that much.

A lifetime ago, when she was maybe six or seven years old, she'd gotten separated from her parents as they were all rushing down the steps leading to the subway, and she distinctly remembered the entirety of the incident, the entirety of the day when her life changed course. The nervous excitement she'd felt that morning upon her father saying, "Let's go take a ride", and her impatience with her mother fussing over what outfit was most appropriate for a trip to the zoo. She'd had a small camera, a recent birthday gift from her grandmother, in her pocket, and could recall the very serious concerns she'd had on the walk to the station, wondering if the exotic birds could be captured by her lens, or if they'd fly too high for her to find.

And then, in the time it took her to blink, the only two people she had in her life, the ones who'd vowed to protect her, had vanished.

The sounds of the people chatting loudly above her and around her and beside her made her ears throb, the smell of food and cigarettes on their clothes as they brushed by her face stung her nose, rolled her stomach, and how their bodies bumped each other, jostling her around, their weight pressing into her - it brought up an emotion she'd not yet experienced in her young life. It was the panic of abandonment. She was surrounded, but alone.

She could still call up the feel of her small hands pressing into her ears to drown out the noise, and the sensation of the collar of her pink chenille jacket against her face when she ducked her head, wanting to hide and be seen in the same moment. She'd clenched her eyes tightly once she'd managed to make it to a barely-there corner just to the side of the staircase, and it worked well enough. But clearest of all in her mind was the flashing and the buzzing.

One of the overhead lights at the bottom of the stairs had been flickering its last, sending out a death rattle at a pitch that snaked into her head no matter what she did, its pulse vacillating between hardly a shimmer and something like the sun, cutting through her eyelids. The feeling would never leave her, the sense that there was little she could do if the world was conspiring against her. The sense of being caught in a maze, struggling to find the one turn that would mean freedom, only to realize the exit was actually a trap.

The Cage had done its homework. The number of stairs, and the myriad cracks in the tiled walls were exact, the rounded entryway to the platform the precise shade of yellowed-white, and while there was no ceiling to speak of, just a boundless void, it did arrange for some ambiance via scant buzzing and muted flickers, despite the lack of the overhead light. One thing, however, was different.

A bright but pleasant glow was coming from around the corner, from the platform and the train, the effect waxing and waning, as if the Cage were calmly inhaling and exhaling - a prodding from her host, a not-so-subtle Come this way. She had such recall, it didn't matter, not the light, not how dark it was in the stairwell, nor that the void was trailing lazily behind. The whole of it could've been a starless night, and she still would've known the way.

Initially, when the current task fell upon her shoulders and before she was fully briefed, she'd expected to find a winding catacomb of sorts, filled with nightmare-inducing imagery, God's very own memento mori for his fallen star; then she'd been told the Cage was different for everyone. It was adaptable, solid and fluid all at once, balanced but unhinged, exacting yet scattered. A real oobleck oubliette.

The stray thought caused her to break form, a corner of her mouth tilting a bit despite the circumstances, but she sobered right up when the non-existent light cut out with a sharp pop that sounded - to her ears - like the shatter of the camera's lens when it hit the concrete floor, the day she’d first been here. She'd dropped it at the initial shock of being lost. Lost, and to her heart, forgotten. And every person in that loud, smelly crowd were oblivious to her precious camera getting kicked around, to how their stomps ground the plastic and glass into powder, a crunching she could hear, even over her sobs.

The present crunch beneath her boots was more resonant, filling the space, but she'd learned how to do some ignoring herself as time went by. She didn't want to know what it was, she didn't bother to imagine what it was, same with the nearby scritching and distant growls, and she'd have told the Cage it could do better than that, but it would've been a waste of breath. It could, it would, and it did.

A lifetime ago, when she was maybe sixteen or seventeen years old, she'd gotten separated from her parents as they were all rushing to anywhere and everywhere, and she distinctly remembered the entirety of the incident, the entirety of the day when her life changed course The conviction she'd felt when she'd decided on the how and the when and the where, the apathetic manner in which she wrote and signed the note, and the curiosity, after, when she was hovering in the corner of her bedroom, hearing her father make some sort of inhuman sound as he dropped to his knees, the note falling with him. She watched the stoicism he'd carefully cultivated in himself as he'd grown older, grown bitter, fall away, too.

Then, later, the curiosity had persisted. She was still just out of sight, it seemed, since her sharp-eyed mother looked right through her on the repeated trips to and from the closet, fussing over what outfit was appropriate for the viewing, even though there couldn't be a viewing, which was obvious, which was why it was curious. And most curious of all was the last thing they did for her, a gesture she'd not seen the likes of in many years, one not afforded to her, certainly not to each other. She'd been standing in the shadow cast by the thick trunk of a tree, unnoticed, when they'd placed a small photograph atop her casket; not one of the three of them, she hadn't smiled in those for years. This was her favorite picture, and she hadn't thought they'd known.

It was the one-and-only she'd taken with her camera, en route to the subway and the promised ride to the most wonderful place she’d ever been. The photo was of a pigeon who'd been toddling along a brownstone's porch, caught just as it had begun to flap its wings, preparing for launch. It was off-center, and blurry, and messy, and perfect. The captured memory had been salvaged from the dropped camera, the film roll bruised but not broken, because in truth, they'd found her quickly that day. They'd scooped up the pieces, lifted her high off the ground, took her away from the chaos. She'd remembered this part far too late.

That was the most curious of all - the clarity. Some things couldn't have been helped, but plenty could've. No convoluted reasoning, no one thing on which to hang understanding; she'd reached her limit, the end. Walked out the door, straight to the subway, same line from the way-back-when, even, and kept a steady pace right off the edge. Pity no one can testify to those who remain about the crushing regret that kicks in approximately one second into taking the leap, how it invades the brain right when the point of no return arrives, how its friend clarity disappears the current, once-perfect plan, and the list of solutions to previously unsolvable things steps in to take its place.

She remembered the brief joy of the realization that the impossible just might be do-able, live-able, before she came to an abrupt halt. And she knew exactly what she would say if she could speak to those who remained: I thought you gave up on me. But that's not really why I left. I left because I gave up on me. That's the catch when it comes to the deals offered to folks in her position: you can only remember what you want to forget.

Because she knew this already, it was surprising that her custom-fit cage didn't. There was enough hazy illumination drifting about as she passed by the tracks for her to have seen the stopped but still-vibrating cars, though the Cage didn't bother with the screech of the brakes, or the onlookers' screams, none of the pounding footsteps of their escape, didn't even go the extra mile and splash around any blood. Like the last time she'd found herself in this spot, she paid no mind to what surrounded her, and her pace didn't slow, and she didn't falter as she went over the edge, but on this occasion she hopped, landed solidly on her feet, proceeded down the tunnel, even walked atop the rail for awhile, executed an occasional gymnast-worthy spin, until, she supposed, the Cage had given up trying to pitch its hopeless sale.

She’d already bought hopelessness once, kept the receipts, and returned it long, long ago.

The room where she found him had three walls, no door, she simply went from the tunnel’s uneven gravel to the smooth wood flooring of the strange diorama. It was here she opted to peek over her shoulder - this she had to see, if the Cage was actually going to have once last go, if it would, if it could, and it did, though the effort was half-hearted, so to speak; the wall that had appeared was easily punchable plaster. No chance she couldn't tear it down. And if what she'd been told was accurate, if she’d succeeded in navigating the maze, the exit - the real exit - would be right on the other side when it was time to leave. In her mind, that moment had arrived; as for him, she couldn't be sure. Stay long enough, even a tomb can start to seem like a home.

It wasn't dark, but it wasn't light. It wasn't loud, but it wasn't quiet. There was no torture, but there was no peace. It just was. Unnerving little nook, she'd freely admit it. And then there was its occupant: he was an unmoving figment, a breath away from being out of sight, the kind that would vanish in the time it took to blink.

She'd prepared her mind, practiced the how, done her homework on the when and the where, all the things one does when readying themselves for a difficult task, yet now that she'd pushed through to the end, when it was almost finished, she didn't have the first clue as to what to say. What do you say? There weren’t enough apologies, never could be, and who'd care? She was a stranger, and on purpose, just some a-hole on a holy mission. She wasn't anyone who owed remorse. She wasn't anyone who owed love. She was no one to him, no one at all.

So they stared at him, she and the Cage, had the feeling he was staring right back, watching as the walls began to warp, and her weight shifted from foot to foot, one or the other occasionally tapping as she pondered, the floorboards creaking as the Cage did the same, and just when the shadow started to slink away----

"Hey, Adam..."

The retreat was halted. The weakened walls began to crumble. The soft smile she seldom showed made a one-night-only appearance as she extended a hand.

"...let's go take a ride."

See Nash Write : Master / See Nash Write : Mobile

🏷️🏷️Wanna be tagged? Hit me up! 🏷️🏷️

Author’s Note #2: This is actually a re-tooling of the initial draft of a scene for Revelation, and as long as the show doesn’t wreck it, something similar may turn up in the book.

Author’s Note #3: ETA - She/You can be whatever “thing” you want her to be. Truly. I’ve had a “plot bunny” for awhile now - related to supernatural stuff but not related to SPN, per se - that persons who die by their own hand---

[And not meaning in a, like, I’m-gonna-take-out-all-you-f*cks-with-me way, and conversely not in an I’m-willfully-giving-my-life-for-XYZ way, or in a this-is-a-terminal-disease-and-I’m-going-out-on-my-own-terms way, I mean specifically, those who - like her - are at their limit for whatever reason]

----have been offered a chance at an afterlife wherein they can be something to someone, accomplish things they wanted to but couldn’t while alive, etc. So for me - and don’t let me stomp on your imagination! - I’d love it if these folks/souls were the angels of death (a.k.a. - Reapers).

Tag team, back again...

@impandagrl @castielhasthetardis @waywardjoy @jalove-wecallhimdean @jame-sbarnes @just-another-busy-fangirl @amanda-teaches @fanforfanatic @salt-n-burn-em-all @thisgingerlikescoffee @cyrilconnelly @rozadolphin @theblackharrystyles @carryonmycobaltangel @ilsawasanacrobat @klaineaholic @helvonasche @zepppie @amionthetumbler @tankcupcakes @littlegreenplasticsoldier @emlostinwonderland @michellethetvaddict @theoriginalvicki @ellen-reincarnated1967 @copperseraphim @mrswhozeewhatsis @crowleylovesyou @bumbleball13 @anticipate1003

#Supernatural Fanfiction #SPN Fanfic #Angst Appreciation Day 2018 #Nash Writes

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