#two of my friends recently got butterfly knives and i know a few tricks and we've been playing w them and talking abt stupid shit like that

[flightfoot]

We’re The Same Ch. 1

AO3/FFN

So I’ve been a fan of Damian for a long time, since way before ML came out. He’s my favorite Robin actually. I was excited to see him used in tons of ML fics... and then discovered he was out of character in most of them. And used for bashing and salt mostly. And paired with Marinette for some reason.

The bashing REALLY annoys me, especially in regards to Adrien bashing. He and Adrien have gone through some similar abuse at the hands of one of their parents, though Damian’s was WAY worse. Honestly? The two of them would relate and probably become friends.

I wanted to see what would happen if I dropped a CANON-COMPLIANT Damian Wayne into Miraculous Ladybug; this was the result.

Disclaimer: This is a Lovesquare fic, with Identity Reveal, Hawkmoth Reveal, and Hawkmoth Defeat. It is NOT a salt fic.

This is set between seasons 2 and 3 of Miraculous Ladybug, and during the “Year of Blood” arc in Robin: Son of Batman (2015). Adrien and Marinette are 14, Damian’s 12, and I’m not certain how old Maya is, but not much older than Damian.

Thanks to @mini-minou for betaing!

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

“Maybe we should take a break.”

Damian sighed. “Tt. You can leave at any time you know.”

Maya Ducard glared at him. “I’m not leaving! But we’ve been flying around constantly for the past week, returning things you took, trying to make amends for what you did during the Year of Blood. I want you to try to make amends, to repair some of the damage you did – heck, that’s why I’m here! – but I need a break, you need a break, and most of all, Goliath needs a break. He’s strong and has a lot of endurance, but even HE has limits Damian!”

The giant red bat-dragon gave a low grunt in agreement.

“See? Goliath agrees with me!”

Damian frowned. “A year, Ducard. A new horrible task every day to ‘prove’ myself to my mother and grandfather. There’s still almost a hundred tasks left to try and undo – or at least to try to fix or make up for as best I can. We don’t have time to waste.”

Ducard gritted her teeth. “If we collapse – ANY of us – it will take a lot longer. We need to be at the top of our game. And just submerging yourself in this redemption quest without any sort of break IS taking a toll, even if you won’t admit it. Mentally, if not physically.”

“I’m FINE-”

Goliath bellowed as some sort of cable wrapped around him. Instantly Ducard and Damian stopped fighting, jumping to high alert.

A girl in a skintight polka-dotted suit and a catboy in a similar skintight black suit swung onto Goliath, using their forward momentum to swing them both on top.

The catboy – wait, is that tail a BELT, how is it moving like that? – grinned, then did a double-take, blinking. “Wait, are you-”

Ducard charged forwards before he could finish, the catboy blocking her blows with his staff. “Who are you? More assassins?”

Catboy looked shocked. “No! Wait, MORE assassins?”

The spotted girl looked around carefully, taking in Damian’s and Ducard’s expressions and body language. Damian held himself at the ready. It looked like maybe this was a misunderstanding, but better to be ready than allow himself to be caught off guard. This could still be a trick of some kind.

“…You’re not an akuma, are you?” the girl asked.

Damian frowned. “What’s an akuma?”

The girl groaned. “Not again. Chat, I think we might have jumped the gun a bit.”

Ducard backed off, still holding herself at the ready but no longer attacking. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

The spotted girl sighed and plopped down on Goliath’s back, the catboy joining her a moment later. One of his cat ears flopped slightly, increasing his resemblance to an oversized kitten. “I’m Ladybug, and the boy beside me is Chat Noir. We’re the local superheroes in Paris. A villain named Hawkmoth is threatening Paris, sending out these tainted butterflies that infect anyone who’s feeling a strong negative emotion. It gives that person superpowers, but also corrupts them, twisting them into an evil version of themselves and putting them under Hawkmoth’s control.” 

“A few minutes ago reports started pouring in about some giant beast flying above Paris. Naturally everyone assumed it was an akuma, so we came to defeat it. Looks like we were mistaken though.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “No kidding. Now get off.”

Ladybug crossed her arms. “You don’t need to be so rude about it.”

Ducard took one look at Damian’s expression and decided to cut in. “Damian’s just like this. Don’t mind him.”

Damian looked at her sullenly. “No one asked YOU, Ducard.”

Chat tilted his head to the side. “Hey, I was wondering – are you Robin? I thought you died, but recently I’ve seen news reports that you were spotted around Gotham City again. But then there’s been that whole Robin movement in Gotham lately with a ton of kids and teenagers putting on the uniform, so I wasn’t sure.”

Ladybug blinked. “Wait, but- I thought Robin was older than that! I thought he was like, sixteen at least?” The spotted girl peered at Damian, narrowing her eyes as she stared at his face. “You’ve got to be a LOT younger than that.”

Who does this girl think she is? “And if I said I was sixteen and that you’re just a horrible judge of ages?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t believe you, since I can SEE that your upper right canine’s growing in. Generally speaking, sixteen-year-olds don’t have baby teeth.”

Dammit!

Ducard snickered. “She’s got you there.”

“This is YOUR fault, Ducard,” he muttered.

“If I recall correctly, you said that it had been loose for a while by the time I knocked it out.”

He looked away, silently fuming.

Chat coughed, obviously hiding a grin behind his hand. “So back to the topic at hand – ARE you Robin? What are you doing here?”

“Of course I’m Robin! And what I’m doing here is none of your business!”

“Well we ARE the protectors of Paris. If there’s any trouble Bugaboo and I should know about it.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes at him. “Quit calling me Bugaboo!”

Damian wanted to groan. Great, more flirting. He’d seen it between Father and Selina Kyle often enough, he didn’t need to see MORE of it. Was it something about cat suits? Was that it?

Ladybug turned back to Damian, addressing him. “Chat IS right though. If there’s any trouble heading to Paris, we need to know.”

He glared at her. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Ducard sighed and cut in. “We’re just passing through. We’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Ladybug gave a curt nod. “That would be goo-“

She didn’t get to finish the sentence.

Namely because a giant spoon had whacked her off of Goliath.

“MILADY!” Chat yelled, his face twisting in panic. He dove off Goliath after her.

“GOLIATH, CATCH HER!” Damian didn’t know whether they’d make it in time, but he HAD to try. The whole point of this trip was to undo damage, put some GOOD back into the world, maybe even earn redemption and forgiveness. He wasn’t going to let her die. He’d taken enough lives by his own hand. He didn’t want to see another one snuffed out.

Goliath dove towards Chat and Ladybug… but it turned out to be unneeded.

Damian blinked, then stared. Ladybug’s yoyo was wrapped around Chat, keeping her from falling to the ground. Chat, meanwhile, was twirling his staff so fast that it apparently acted like a helicopter blade, allowing him and Ladybug to slowly descend to the ground.

So these two were obviously magic. Great. Just great. He could feel a headache coming on. Well, it seemed like he’d just have to wing it and figure out the limits of their abilities as they fought. Not what he preferred, but he’d made do with less intel before.

And then one of the silliest-looking supervillains Damian had ever seen flew towards the two superheroes.

He had two sets of “wings” – if they could really be called that. The upper pair was made of two giant spoons, while the lower pair were two forks. A pair of knives were strapped to his back.

“People kept saying that the placement of silverware doesn’t matter. That it didn’t matter whether the spoon goes on the right or left of the fork, and even that the type of fork or spoon didn’t matter! Well, joke’s on them! I, Table Angel, will put everyone in their proper places AS SOON AS YOU GIVE ME YOUR MIRACULOUS!”

So this was probably an akuma. Apparently akumas were really stupid. Seriously, this guy was more of an imbecile than Condiment King, and he didn’t even know that was POSSIBLE.

Akumas were also unobservant. You’d think that he’d notice a giant red bat-dragon descending from above and barreling towards him, even with his back to them, but nope.

He noticed eventually. When Goliath rammed him into the ground.

Goliath descended to the ground, Ladybug and Chat Noir landing a moment later.

There was no rush. The akuma (Damian REFUSED to call him something as stupid as “Table Angel”) wasn’t going anywhere. Currently he was groaning in a giant crater.

Chat smirked. “Well that’s one way to take down an akuma.”

He strolled over to the semi-conscious supervillain. “What do you think, Milady? The knife, fork, or spoon?”

Ladybug shrugged. “Try the knives first. He hadn’t used them yet, maybe there was a reason.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. CATACLYSM!”

The knives crumbled into black powder, a purple and black butterfly fluttering out of the remains.

“No more evil-doing for you, little akuma,” Ladybug called out, spinning her yo-yo. “Time to de-evilize!” She caught the butterfly in her yo-yo, then opened it and set it free, now a pure white. “Bye-bye little butterfly!”

As it flew away, a purple liquid mass passed over the akuma, stripping away his supervillain appearance and leaving behind an ordinary man.

The man blinked, looking around wildly. “What happened? Where am I? Wait… Ladybug? Chat Noir? Oh no. I was akumatized, wasn’t I?”

“Yes-“ Ladybug began telling the man soothingly.

“SENTIMONSTER!” the man yelled, scrambling to his feet as he stared at something behind Ladybug.

“Sentimonster?” She turned around. And came face-to-face with Goliath.

“Oh. Right.” She called after the man, “Don’t worry! He’s not a sentimonster, he’s just-“ but by that point he was out of sight.

She sighed. “Well, there he goes.” She turned to Goliath and smiled. “Thanks for your help. Sorry about that whole being-mistaken-for-a-sentimonster-and-an-akuma thing.”

Goliath smiled, sweeping Ladybug and Chat Noir both into a hug.

Ladybug laughed as best she could, with the way she was squished against Goliath. “I love you too.”

Chat was ecstatic, his eyes sparkling as he seemed to melt into Goliath’s soft fur. A low rumble sounded from his throat.

Damian blinked. Chat could actually purr? Exactly how much of a cat WAS he? His eyes were catlike, his cat ears and tail swiveled and moved like a cat’s, even though they were CLEARLY fake… did he just like, have the magic essence of a cat or something?

Come to think of it, he didn’t actually know HOW Ladybug and Chat Noir got their powers. He didn’t even know whether they were human or not.

Hm. This was worth investigating.

After a few more moments of hugging, Goliath let Ladybug and Chat Noir down.

Chat dropped to all fours, still leaning into Goliath and purring, eyes half-lidded in contentment.

The “magic essence of a cat” theory was seeming more likely by the minute.

After several more moments, a beeping noise sounded from Chat’s ring. He blinked. Looked at it. Then abruptly jumped up, face turning as scarlet as Ladybug’s suit as he chuckled. “Uh, heh heh heh, I’ll just be going now, nice meeting you guys!”

“Chat!” Ladybug called out, holding out her fist. Chat smiled, raising his fist to meet hers.

“Pound it!” they chorused.

“Just one more thing I need to do,” Ladybug said. “Lucky Charm!”

A statue of a small red-and-black spotted bird fell into her hand. She blinked, glancing over at Damian. She studied him closely.

“WHAT?” he asked her irritably. “What was that all about? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t think you should leave just yet,” she told him. “My Lucky Charm produces an item that I can use to succeed; sometimes by giving me the tool I need to beat an opponent, and sometimes by giving me a hint about what to do next. This bird looks like a Robin, so I think you’re supposed to stick around.”

Damian frowned. He hadn’t been planning on it before, but... he didn’t fully know what was going on here. And as both Batman’s partner and the former prince of the League of Shadows, he knew how valuable a bit of intel could be.

“Fine,” he stated abruptly. “But I’m not going to stick around for long.”

Ladybug looked slightly annoyed, then sighed. “That’s all I ask for.”

She threw the bird into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Swarms of ladybugs erupted through the air, whirling around the city. One swirled around the crater that Table Angel (with some unsolicited help from Goliath) had made. When the ladybugs left, the crater was gone.

Damian stared. So THIS was the ‘Miraculous Cure’ she’d been talking about. This… this could be HUGE. Collateral damage was a major problem in superhero fights, if this could reset that…

No way was he going to leave now. He wasn’t sure whether this power could only repair damage related to akumas or sentimonsters, as she said, or whether there was a more general principle, but he had to know more. At the very least who Ladybug and Chat Noir were so he could find them if he needed them.

A beep sounded from Chat’s ring again, a beep from Ladybug’s earrings sounding in tandem with it.

“And now I REALLY should be going,” Chat called.

As Chat ran past Damian brushed against him, lightly placing a device on his belt.

“I’ve got to leave as well, I don’t have much time left.” Ladybug hesitated. “You might need to hide Goliath somewhere; he’s obviously a huge softie, but Parisians might panic.”

Damian scoffed. “I’m not an imbecile, girl. And neither is Goliath. He knows how to hide.”

She shot him another irritated look, but apparently decided that it wasn’t worth responding to the slight insult.

Instead; “Look, I’ve got to go too. I’ll try to figure out what the Lucky Charm was hinting at and contact you later.”

As she threw out her yo-yo, hooking it onto the nearest building, Damian swiftly placed an item on one of her spots. A moment later she was out of sight.

Damian smirked.

Ducard glanced over at him suspiciously. “What are you so happy about?”

Damian took a device from his toolbelt and flipped it open.

Two dots blinked back, both moving rapidly.

Ducard stated flatly, “You put trackers on them, didn’t you.”

Damian’s smirk widened. “Always get to know who your allies are.”

Ducard let out an exasperated sigh. “How do the Batfamily have so many friends again?”

He chose not to dignify that with a response, looking back at the screen instead. “Now we just-“

The dots disappeared.

Damian blinked.

Ducard stifled a giggle.

“Did they discover my trackers? They didn’t seem like the most observant lot.”

“Guess you’re not as sneaky as you think you are,” Ducard teased.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “We’re getting to the bottom of this. I’ll go to the dot on the left, you take the dot on the right. We’ll look for clues about what happened.”

Now it was Ducard’s turn to smirk. “I’m guessing the fact that the left dot is the catboy is totally irrelevant?”

He looked away.

Ducard burst out laughing.

“I don’t get what’s so funny,” Damian muttered.

Ducard wiped the tears from her eyes. “Damian, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at him. Looks like someone has a crush~”

He shot her an irritated look. “That’s not it.”

“Really? Because it looks like it to me.”

He shook his head. “Tt. I have no romantic inclinations towards him or anyone else.”

“Then what was up with the look on your face when you looked at him? Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

He stared in the direction that Chat Noir had gone and swallowed. “It’s just… he reminds me of some of the stray animals I’ve rescued.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment, then looked back down at the tracker, squinting at it. “Ok, I think I know where to go. I’ll head for where Ladybug’s tracker disappeared.”

Damian gave her a curt nod, then ran away. He had a catboy to find.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #Damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #Adrien agreste #Maya ducard #We're the same

[ezilyamuzed]

Ten Years Gone- The Beginning

Description: Ten years ago, your world had changed. Ten years ago, you had met him, leading your life to never be the same again. Time is running out, but is it too late after all these years?

Word Count: 7775

Warnings: Language, Parent’s death, PG teen “cuddle” time. 

A/N: This is the prelude of a new series. I was listening to Led Zeppelin's ‘Ten Years Gone’ while watching the early episodes of Supernatural and got some ideas... Enjoy. 

Any grammatical mistakes are all my own, because I am human. Remember all comments and feedback are welcomed! If you want a tag in future posts regarding this series or other writings please send an ask! As always thank you for reading! Enjoy!   

TEN YEARS GONE MASTERLIST

*Picture and lyrics used are not mine. Led Zeppelin is Amazing.

Changes fill my time, baby, that's alright with me In the midst I think of you, and how it used to be

Your legs were sprawled out along the back seat of your uncle’s ‘70 Chevelle as you hummed along to the guitar rhythm and stared out the window. The trees and scenery were whooshing past in a blink of an eye, but it all looked pretty much the same no matter where you were. The autumn quickly changing the leaves that were now falling to the ground. Trees, trees, dirt, and grass. Hey a rock. Sometimes you turned your sight seeing into a game to see how long you could stare out without blinking before you either got dizzy or your eyes dried out. Your record was to the second chorus of The Steve Miller Band’s “The Joker”. 

“We almost there? I gotta piss,” you whined up to the front. 

Your uncle Danny let out a laugh as he turned his head to the rear-view mirror to see your turnt up nose. 

“We’re about 5 minutes away. You can hold it until then. If not, I’m sure there is a bottle or something back there.”

Although he was not longer looking you still give him an evil glare in response.

“You know it doesn’t work like that Uncle Danny.”

“Well if you’re going to keep talking like a rude little boy instead of the proper lady like I know your momma raised you to be, I’m going to keep treating you like it,” he replied back, turning the radio down as he spoke.

“She tried. It didn’t stick,” you rolled your eyes in a humph.

“If only she could see you now. Hell, 14, starting up high school…”

“Yeah, how many schools will I go to this year? The standard 4 minimum?” you added with sarcasm.

“One, smartass,” you could see him smiling as he looked to you in the rear view mirror. “I’ve worked out a deal with a buddy of mine while I go on a business trip.”

“Ya hunting plants, fruits, vegetables, or minerals this time?” You laughed at your own dumb joke.

“Don’t you worry about that missy,” he replied. “You just keep your head while I’m gone. No getting into trouble.”

“Who ya dropping me off with anyways? They in the business too,” you asked while making air quotes. 

“Yeah, but recently he has stepped back a little. Actually, he’s been watching two teenage boys around your age while their dad also goes out on the road,” he replied before looking back to you again in the mirror. “And I don’t want to hear about you getting into no trouble with those or any other boys. Ya hear me?”

“Ew, no,” you face twisting in disgust.

“Yeah, you say that now. Soon enough though, you’ll be just like the rest of us and find that special someone that turns ya all stupid enough to want to spend the rest of your life with em.” 

You rolled your eyes again as you slumped back further into the seat, keeping you eyes on the road signs as the passed by. Sioux Falls, North Dakota 10 miles ahead. Ten more miles until you can finally stretch out properly. Ten more miles until you might get to sleep in real bed, in a real house, something you hadn’t done for almost three years.

It had been an unusually warm fall that year. With your birthday approaching, your mom and dad were busy setting up everything for your party. Uncle Danny had taken you out to pick out whatever gift you wanted- a butterfly knife with dusty rose handles. He of course argued with you, but with his vast collection of knives that you had always admired, he agreed as long as it stayed a secret between the two of you. He even had an interesting symbol etched into the blade. It was a little star that looked like flames were coming out of every corner. He said it was extra protection, whatever that had meant. After grabbing ice cream he had driven you home, only too see the door wide open with no answer. He told you to stay in the car, but of course after a few minutes you stopped listening. It was your home. Why would you have to wait outside? That’s when you saw what he wanted to protect you from. Both of your parents, ripped to shreds by what looked like an animal. There was no animal in sight though. You don’t even remember exactly what else happened that day. There were sirens and people in uniforms everywhere. Neighbors of course being nosy and gawking at the scene. What you remembered was your Uncle Danny holding you close and telling you that everything would be okay. And you believed him.

Up until now, he had tried his best to juggle everything- his job and raising you were not easy tasks. You got into fights in school quite a bit, but with the fact that you were leaving it in a week or so to go to another, who really cared? There were nights when you were all alone, waiting patiently for him to return, always wondering in that back of your mind if this was the time you’d lose him too. He always came back though, a little beaten a bruised perhaps, but always with a smile. 

Eventually he finally told you where he was going during all of his trips. Fighting ghosts and other monsters sounded ridiculous to you, but eventually you realized he wasn’t kidding. He was a hunter- he saved people. And that made him that so much cooler. Over the summer he had started teaching you how to shoot and what things to look for. You had already became really good with a knife, learning little tricks and that with the one he had bought you. He had an old notebook that was filled with drawings and descriptions that you tried to memorize, the ink wearing away with each use. You asked if you could join and help on a case, but he would always tell you that it was no place for a kid to be which was complete bullshit. You could handle yourself. You weren’t scared. But with all your protests, he would not budge, thus bringing you to here.

“About 5 more minutes until we’re at Bobby’s,” he stated while turning left down the road. “Hold on to your bladder just a little longer.”

You re-positioned yourself to stare out the window to see if anything was at least interesting around this guy’s house. Nope. Trees, fields, and a couple houses every once in a while. Great - middle of fucking nowhere U.S.A.  You caught the sight of what looked like the after effects of a tornado. Cars and junk everywhere with a little house in the back. 

“Welcome to Singer Salvage yard.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you moaned.

“Hey, language.”

“Sorry,” you muttered before speaking up again. “But seriously, you are LITERALLY leaving me in a garbage dump. What the hell am I supposed to do here? Get tetanus?”

“No, you’re going to get an education and have a normal childhood,” his voice sounded angry. “Now I know it’s not pretty, but Bobby is a good friend. He will watch out for you and make sure you have everything you need.”

“I’m going to need a bath,” you mumbled under your breath.

When the car finally came to a complete stop and the dust from the ground settled you were able to get a better view of the place. It was alright, probably looked better on the inside. Well, at least you hoped. Still a shithole. There was another chevelle parked alongside it that was just like your uncles, but more on the run down side. Next to it, a sleek black Impala. That was probably Bobby’s car. Hunters always have a thing for muscle cars. Sturdy, reliable, fast, or “American made” as your uncle liked to state. Whatever the reason, they were nice to look at. 

Two men walked out of the house with solemn looks on their faces with two teenage boys trailing behind. You followed your uncle's lead and climbed out of the car to the fresh air. 

“Danny, it’s been a long time,” the dark haired man with a gruff voice stated while extending his hand for a shake.

“ Way too long Johnny,” he replied while shaking his hand before moving to the bearded guy with a baseball cap. “Bobby, thanks for doing this.”

“It’s no trouble at all. There’s already two hellions, what’s another?” He chuckled as he looked over at you staring down to the ground, pushing your chucks into the dirt. “You must be Y/N.”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a tight lipped smile. 

“This is my boy Dean, he’s just a little older than you and my boy Sam who is just a bit younger,” John stated, while guiding the boys closer with his arm, although they clearly could care less.

“Dean, could you and Sam help Y/N inside?” Danny spoke up. “I know I’ve been making her wait to use the restroom, so I’m sure she’ll be grateful to know where it is.”

Dean nodded his head and grabbed at your two bags in the backseat before walking past you to go inside. Sam following. You rolled your eyes to your uncle and trailed behind to your new life- at least for now. 

You were wrong about it possibly being better on the inside. Nope, it was a shithole too that was covered with books and empty liquor bottles. The decor covered by a pound of dust and cobwebs resembled something like a real house, something someone used to care about. 

“Toilets over there,” Dean nodded down the hall while tossing your bags down before he flopped himself on the couch.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you walked down the hall.

Surprisingly the toilet was at least semi clean, although there was enough hair trimmings in the sink to resemble a small animal.

After finishing in the bathroom you walked out to the living room area. Dean was sprawled out on the couch with a comic book and Sam was sitting on the floor next to him with an old worn down book. Out of place and unwelcomed were the nice ways of saying how you felt at that moment. After grabbing your book bag, you sat down at the kitchen table all alone, not knowing what else to do, but to stare at the walls.

“You boys helped Y/N find her way,” you heard your uncle's voice say as he entered the room.

Dean nodded as he turned the page on his book. Sam looked back at him, following his queue. Your uncle approached you, sitting himself down at the seat next to yours.

“See, it’s not that bad, right kiddo?”

Even though your head was down, you looked up to him through your lashes, rolling your eyes just a little towards the two boys.

“You’ll be fine,” he smiled. “Just give it a little bit and I’m sure you will all be getting along just fine when I come back.”. 

“How long?” You asked although you could guess the answer already.

“Not sure kiddo,” he grabbed your hand and held it gently. “But I’m going to call every Sunday night after dinner time to check in on you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “Just come back to me okay Uncle Danny?”

“You be good Y/N;” he said as he returned your hug back before standing up again. “I’ll see you soon kiddo.”

He never promised that he would come back. It was a promise that he couldn’t make. He knew it and you knew. He always said that he would never make a promise to you that he couldn’t keep. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

You watched as he shook Bobby’s hand by the front door, turning to give you a loving smile before leaving out the door to go to the next job that awaited him.

“So, how about you boys actually show Y/N where her room is.” Bobby stated firmly, causing Dean to roll his eyes as he slapped the comic book shut. “You two know how it goes around here. We’re not savages. Now get going.”

“Yes sir,” the two of them mumbled as they got up from their spots. 

Both boys each grabbed one of your bags, still not saying anything really directly to you as they walked up the stairs. Bobby was standing with his arms crossed watching them closely as you followed behind them. 

“This one is where Bobby sleeps,” Sam informed you while pointing to a door. Dean and I are in this one, and you’re the last one down the hall.”

“Yeah, lucky you,” Dean scoffed. “You get your own room.”

“Lucky me,” you stated back with sarcasm. “I get to live here with you.”

Dean turned his head to you with a glare before he opened the door and switched on the light. It was a simple room, surprisingly organized and clean. It was almost like someone had cleaned it recently. 

“This was Dean’s room,” Sam informed you, making you feel a little guilty about displacing him. It wasn’t like this was your choice though.

Dean tossed the bag he was carrying down onto the bed with a thud. Sam chose to use the gentler approach of setting the bag he was carrying on a chair in the corner.

“So what’s your story,” Dean asked as he sat down on the corner of the bed.

You shrugged, as you moved through the room, checking out the view from the window. 

“You travel with your uncle,” Dean stated. “So where’s your parents?”

You turned and looked back to him silently, not really wanting to talk about the tragic backstory of your life.

“Okay, don't talk to us then,” Dean rolled his eyes as he stood up. 

“Dead.”

He paused in his steps and turned to look at you, mouth agape. You returned to look out the window again before continuing, hoping you would see your uncles car any moment again to take you with him.

“It’s just me and Danny;” you continued as you looked over to them. “So what’s your story?”

“Mom’s been gone a long time and dad is in the business,” he stated with some sort of pride. “The family business.”

“Doesn’t a family business typically mean that more than one member of your family is doing it?” You snarked back.

“I’ve gone out on hunts before,” he stated in defense. “I’ve seen a ghost before.”

“Good for you,” you rolled your eyes again. “So why did he leave the two of you here then.”

“Dean got in some trouble on his last hunt,” Sam spoke up. 

“What, did you act like an ass to the monster too?” You smirked to Dean.

“That’s a long story,” he said as he started rubbing the back of his neck. “So how long are you here for?”

“Who knows?” You responded. “Hopefully just a few days, maybe weeks.”

“And you’re like what 13?”

“Fourteen,” you corrected him. “I’ll be fifteen-.”

You stopped yourself short, not wanting to discuss or even think about the fact that you had a birth date like everyone else. It was a day you’d rather forget. You finished your sentence with the word “soon” popping off your lips.

“Are you going to be going to the high school with Dean then?” Sam asked. 

“I guess so,” you shrugged. “So What is there to do around here anyways?”

“Read,” Sam replied with innocence, Dean rolling his eyes in response.

“There ain’t much to do, but there’s always something you can find to at least pass the time.”

“Like what?” You asked. 

Dean laughed while nodding outside.

“Well, you like cars?” He asked as you gave him a side eyed glance. “We got tons of em out there.”

“What do you do? Try to fix em up or something?”

Dean shrugged as you all heard Bobby yelling up the stairs to start getting ready for dinner. 

“Don’t keep him waiting,” Sam said as he walked out the door.

“Is Bobby strict?” You asked Dean who was still standing there, waiting for you to go downstairs as well.

“He’s alright, can be strict at times,” he replied back. “He does his best to make sure that we have some sort of normal in our lives.”

“What’s normal?” You rolled your eyes. “Being dropped off with some strange dude in a shit hole.”

“Give it time,” Dean laughed. “It’s not that bad. It’s better than staying in a crumby motel every night alone. ”

You paused your steps to the door as you heard those words leaving his lips. Motel and alone. Well that summed up the last three years of your life. Guess you did have more in common with these two boys besides being dumped off. If they could handle it, maybe it wasn’t going to be that bad after all.

The next couple weeks weren’t that bad. You had started high school with Dean showing you around. The fact that he became somewhat protective of you was probably why you didn’t seem to have any trouble with the other kids. The boys seemed to be scared of him, and the girls seemed to be in love with him. Each Sunday as promised your uncle would call to check in, consistently avoiding the topic of when he would be coming back. It was alright though. You had become so busy with your school work and hanging out with the boys that you didn’t mind it so much. Bobby’s house was slowly becoming your home.

“So to find the slope, you take the difference from the two Y points and divide by the two corresponding X points,” you stated to Dean as the two of you sat at the kitchen table.

“Why do I even care?” He grumbled.

“Well, slopes give you an idea of the rate of acceleration. Like in a car,” you stated. “Say you know that if you start at the end of the driveway and move to the other end in 60 seconds, you can determine how fast you were going.”

“Or I could just look at the speedometer,” he grinned. 

“Smartass,” you laughed as you shoved his arm. “Okay, so you see a Rugalu, and they move from point A to point B in so many seconds. How fast do you have to move your ass to get the hell out of there?” 

“Who says I wouldn’t stay to fight?”

You rolled your eyes to him again. Clearly at this point he was just being a smartass. 

“Fine, you don’t run away. So how much faster do you have to be to gank him then Winchester?” You asked with a cocky smile.

“Just got to be faster,” he replied. “Who cares how fast?”

“Well, let me give you a little insight into physics and biology. You expel more than enough energy for a task, you deplete your energy storage. Making it easy for the other Rugulu to take you down.”

“Okay, point taken,” he laughed. “Math is important. So how did you become so smart in this shit anyways?”

“My dad was a science professor,” you shrugged, before realizing that you had mentioned him for probably the first time ever to Dean besides the fact that he was dead.

“And your mom?” Dean prodded a little further. 

“History professor,” you replied while taking in a deep breath. “Guess it just rubbed off on me. Anyways, do you get it now?”

“Oh, I got it about a minute after you decided to try and help me,” he smiled. “I just wanted to see how far I could get you frustrated before you gave up.”

You smacked him lightly on his arm as he laughed in response.

“You’re a dick,” you laughed. “Why did you want to see me get frustrated?”

“Because I think it’s awesome that even when you don’t know how to help someone, it gets to you so much that you don’t quit,” he smiled. “That and when you realize that you did in fact help someone, your eyes kind of light up a little. You’re a good person Y/N.”

The way that Dean was looking at you as he spoke was so genuine; no one besides family had ever done that before. It made you feel something at that moment. What it was, you weren’t sure. You bit your lip nervously as he leaned over, pulling his text book back over to him. 

“So question 4, find the y-intercept,” he read from the pages.

“You helping Dean with homework there Y/N?” Bobby stated as he entered the room with Sam, both carrying bags of groceries that could probably feed a small army. Or in this case, the Winchester boys for a weekend. 

“Just making sure he gets it,” you smiled back while standing up to help them put the groceries away.

Peering into the bags, there was an item that you had told Bobby in secret that you needed that you didn’t see. He had either forgotten, or was too embarrassed to pick it up. 

“Um, Bobby,” you muttered. “Ya forgot something.”

He looked at you with furrowed brows until it dawned on him. He mumbled ‘crap’ under his breath before exhaling loudly.

“I suppose you need ‘em soon,” he sighed, you nodding in response. He looked over at Dean finishing the last question of his homework and closing the book. “Dean, take Y/N and my car to the little corner store. Be back in twenty for dinner.”

Dean squinted his eyes in confusion as he grabbed the keys from Bobby. You rolling your own eyes that now Dean was going to be very well aware of the gross part about being a girl: your period. 

You trailed behind Dean after Bobby handed you some cash, muttering an apology as you walked away. In less than 3 minutes, with Dean obviously ignoring anything that resembled a speed limit sign you were at the store.

“So what did you need? Make-up, hair stuff?,” he inquired as he followed you in, making you give him a funny look. “Didn’t know if all of the sudden you were trying to look like those other girls in the school.”

“I’d rather live forever in my comfy jeans and t-shirts then to ever be like them,” you snarked back, as you approached the feminine section.

Dean’s eyes followed where yours went, staring at the boxes of tampons with little flowers printed on them. It was not something he knew a lot about, but he knew enough. He reached over and grabbed a box, staring at the packaging.

“I don’t know why they try to make it all fancy,” he pondered out loud. “I mean, a girl can bleed for a few days and still kick your ass. They should have something more fierce on the box. Like a warrior princess.”

You shook your head with a laugh, catching on that Dean was trying to make this would be awkward situation into a joke. 

“My dad used to say that they used these for bullet holes,” he stated while grabbing two more boxes. “We should probably stock up knowing our luck. Who knows, maybe I’ll need some.”

Your laughter died down as you followed Dean to the register when you saw a group of guys looking and nodding over to the two of you with smirks.

“Looks like Winchester isn’t getting laid this week,” the one stated out loud. “Unless he’s into walking the red carpet.”

Johsua Adams. A notorious prick that thought he was God’s gift to women. First day at school and he had already tried, and failed, to have you,the new girl cozy, up behind the bleachers with him.  Dean just sat the products down on the counter, clenching his jaw as he turned to him with a grin.

“No, that’s what your girlfriend is for.”

Josh’s smile faded quickly, his face hardened now approaching Dean rapidly with you standing next to him. You felt Dean’s arm push you back by your waist, surprising you for a second until you saw what happened next. Josh yelled a ‘fuck you’ as he swung his fist towards Dean’s face, Dean almost effortlessly caught him by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

“Now you’re going apologize for your remarks and you're going to go back to your little circle jerk,” he seethed, holding him steady as he tried to break free. 

Josh’s friends all moved from their spot, clearly pissed off that their friend was being hurt. Dean shook his head stating ‘uh huh’ as he twisted Josh's arm more to make him yell out. 

“Now I’m going to let you go,” Dean instructed the Josh in his ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. “And you all are going to leave me and my friend alone, or next time I won’t be so nice.”

Josh nodded his head, giving Dean the queue that he was going to comply. His friends all stared the two of you down hard with anger as they walked out of the store. You had almost forgotten the fact that you were in a store until you heard the onlooking cashier behind you.

“Your boyfriend there is a good guy,” she stated. “Those boys are nothing but trouble. It was about time someone showed them their place.”

You didn’t argue what she had called him: your boyfriend. Definitely not. Probably not ever. But she was right, he was a good guy. You handed her the money as you lead the way out the door to Bobby’s car. The two of you opening the doors and setting yourself in. 

“Where did you learn how to do that?” You asked with enthusiasm, the whole act was something you had only seen in the movies.

“My dad,” Dean replied. “And Bobby a little. Why?”

“Teach me,” you said as your turned your body to him with intrigue in your eyes.

“What?” Dean exhaled audibly. “Why?”

“You really have to ask?,” you sounding surprised. “Come on Dean! There are tons of assholes out there like that, plus knowing how to take care of myself would definitely help with, you know...those other things that we aren’t supposed to talk about.”

“There is no way in hell I’m teaching you any of that,” he looked at you directly with seriousness on his face. “You haven’t had to know what it’s like to fight for your life; you’re lucky and blessed. And I will be dammed if I ever let you get mixed up in that shit.”

“It’s not like I’m not already mixed up in it Dean! Something supernatural killed my parents. Hell, I’m being raised by hunters! Do you really think I will ever just get on with my life and not have that following me?”

Dean growled lowly, as he shook his head. 

“Fine,” he stated as he turned the key in the ignition to bring the engine to life. “But this is between us. If Bobby knew, he’d kill me.”

“I promise.”

“And leave Sam out of it too. That kid is going to be a doctor or lawyer someday.”

“No problem,” you agreed. “Thanks Dean, for you know, what happened in there.”

“ Anytime,” he said as he pulled out of the spot and drove down the road. “He had it coming to him anyway.”

“And I know why you’re scared to teach me how to fight Dean.”

He glanced over at you with confusion, making you smirk in return.

“Because you know I’ll be able to kick your ass,” you replied with snark. 

“Oh darlin,” he shook his head with a laugh. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” 

The next week, Dean and you had figured out a routine on when he was able to teach you. Most of the time it was right after dinner when Sam would be caught up in a book and Bobby would pass out drunk at his desk.

The garage light was enough for you to see what you were doing, and far enough away from the house so they couldn’t hear you.

“Okay, so again,” Dean stated, making you follow his directions in the sequence as he rattled them off. “Left punch, right punch, left uppercut, and a right hook.”

You did as you were told, until he stated to go faster, and then faster again. Dean shook his head in disapproval as he watched. 

“You’re locking your arms too much,” he said as he gripped your right elbow. “You’re going to break something of yours, not theirs.”

His hands moved to reposition your arm, tickling a little as he touched your skin; making you flinch back with a giggle.

“Ticklish huh?” Dean smirked as his eyes grew wide.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you laughed, as you noticed the devilish look in his eyes. 

He reached over as you tried to move out of the way, and furiously tickled you all over in an instant. Your laughter echoed through the room as you tried to get away, but he was not stopping.

“Stop Dean! Stop,” you gasped out in between your laughter, tears now rolling down you eyes. “I’m going to piss myself!”

He continued with his own laughter as you twisted yourself and started to fumble backwards; grabbing onto his arms to bring him down as well as your back hit the ground. 

“Ow,” you laughed again, Dean propping himself up on his hands next to your sides, staring down with a grin. “See what you did?”

“Rule number one,” he smiled. “Know your opponents weak spots.”

“Uh huh, and where’s yours?” You smirked as you started to tickle his rib cage. 

Dean moved swiftly and pinned your hands down on the ground with a smirk. Your breath caught in the moment, with your chest rising and falling deeply to catch it. He stared down at you as you looked up to him. The feeling that arose was different, and by the looks on his face he was feeling it as well. He paused himself for a moment, before leaning down and pressing his lips onto yours gently. An act that surprised you at first, but it felt right. Your first kiss. Your first real kiss was happening with Dean on a dirty garage floor, but you didn’t care. You found yourself returning it, moving your lips along with his, opening them just a little as you felt his tongue glide across them. You didn’t really know what to do. It’s not like this was really covered in health class, but you glided your tongue with his, moving them together in sync. It felt smooth, sending a warm feeling down your body as you felt his hand now touching your face, bringing you closer and deeper into his.

“Whoa,” you heard Sam gasp aloud, causing you to both break away and look over at him in panic.

“What the hell Sam!” Dean yelled.

“So that’s what you two are doing,” Sam smiled. “You two are making out every night!”

“Get out of here Sam before I kick your ass!” Dean yelled again.

“Whatever,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Just don’t let Bobby, dad, or her uncle catch you. They just called.” They’re coming back.”

“He’s coming back?” You sat yourself up, knocking Dean back a little in your action. “When?”

“They said they’d be here after school tomorrow,” Sam answered. “So that probably means we will be moving on too.”

Dean sighed out loud and nodded as he stood up, shaking the dirt off of him before extending his hand to you to help you up. As you got up you felt the mixed feelings of dread and excitement. You were going to see your uncle again, but at the same time you were now probably going to lose Dean. You stared down to the ground as you followed the boys back into the house. Dean instructing Sam to keep his mouth shut about what he had seen. You went upstairs to your room, trying to ignore Dean’s glances as you shut the door and flopped down on the bed. The feeling of his lips still lingered on yours as you gentled touched them with your fingers. What was going to happen next?

You awoke from your deep sleep as you heard the sound of your door opening. Glancing at the clock it was just a little after midnight. You sat up and turned to see Dean walking in with a solemn look on his face. 

“Hey, didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized.

“Yes you did,” you smiled in the dark room, the only light peaking through the curtains from the moon outside. 

“I just thought, since tomorrow we might be parting ways, maybe we should talk about what happened?” He nervously replied.

You nodded as he sat down on the edge of your bed, you sitting up straighter and pulling the covers up to your chest. You could see the hesitation in his face, unsure of what exactly to say. The silence was lingering, only growing with anticipation of what he was about to say fiercely within you. 

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

 You were confused for a moment, but you laid your hand on top of his in reassurance.

“Hey, it’s alright,” you replied softly. “It was nice. Unexpected of course, but I don’t regret it.”

“I’ve just, I don’t know,” he paused again. “I just was trying to keep you away from knowing how I felt about you.”

“How do you feel about me?”

“I like you Y/N,” he confessed as he looked at you. “I mean, it's hard not to. You’re someone who genuinely cares about people, and I didn’t want you to get hurt when I had to leave again.”

“What makes you so sure that you will have to leave?” you asked. “I mean, maybe they’ll let us stay here for a little longer.”

“Doubt it,” he sighed. “You don’t know my dad. He won’t care. The only thing that matters to him is taking care of Sam and finding what killed my mom.”

“But what about you Dean? I’m sure he cares about you.”

Dean shook his head, you catching the sight of a lingering tear fall down his face. 

“I was happy once before, not too long ago. I had a semi normal life away from them with someone I cared about, but he didn’t care and I couldn’t leave Sammy.”

“Dean,” you found yourself reaching for his face to look at you. You searched in his face to find whatever guilt he was holding back. “Tell me what happened.”

He sighed again as you dropped your hand down. His eyes searching for an easy way to tell you, possibly scared at your reaction.

“You know how Sam told you I had screwed up on a hunt? Well that isn’t true. I got myself in trouble and found myself at a boy’s reforming home. I got to go to school, do normal teenage things, and I had met someone there that I think I might have loved.”

You just found yourself nodding, although the last part hurt just a little, but you could tell it was still something he was still hurting from. 

“Anyways, my dad showed up after months even though he knew where I was the whole time and made me come back. He was angry and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Then of course I thought of Sam. I’ve been protecting that kid my whole life. I couldn’t walk away from him.”

“I understand,” you whispered. “But Dean, you do know that you can be happy again. No one knows what tomorrow will bring.” 

“How is it that you always know the right thing to say?” he chuckled softly.

“Because I’m awesome,” you smirked back with a soft laugh. 

“Yeah, well I’m going to get back to my room before Sammy realizes that I’ve left,” he said as he started to get up, but you grabbed his hand to stop him.

“If this is really possibly the last night I get to see you, I don’t want you to go,” you confessed as you let your grip fall. “I don’t know exactly whatever it was that I felt earlier, but I don’t want to give it up yet.”

Dean looked deeply into your eyes as he moved to crawl under the covers with your assistance of pushing them back to allow him access. He laid his head down on the pillow next to you, gazing at you, moving the hair out of your face as you mirrored him. You nuzzled your face into his hand as he cupped your cheek. He was hesitant, but you moved your face closer to his. Biting your lip a little before you leaned in and felt his soft, full lips on yours once again. He followed your lead and before you knew it, you felt the same warmth as you did before now hitting harder as your lips moved together by the light of the moon. It was a feeling you never wanted to let go of as you pushed your lips on his harder. His hands now resting on you, one holding your head steady, the other caressing your hip. It tickled a little, the way his hand touched your skin, making you moan just a little, wanting more. His lips moved from yours, trailing along your skin and down to your neck as his hand moved from your hip to your heaving chest. Through your clothes you could feel him grasping your breast gently, not wanting to be rough. You didn’t  know exactly what had pushed you in the moment, but you pulled away from him and lifted off your shirt to leave your chest expose to him. You wanted to feel his skin against yours as he watched you with wonderment in his eyes before crashing his lips against yours once more. His hands were now all over you, feeling every inch of you as you continued. His lips moving to discover new spots on your body and the pleasure-filled reactions they ensued from you. It could have been only minutes that it continued, but it felt like forever until the kisses and touches started to slow down. Dean looked into your eyes, as he pulled away with a deep breath. 

“I think I love you Y/N,” he confessed. “And I don’t want us to do anything that neither of us are ready for just because we may never see each other again.”

“I think I might love you too Dean,” you smiled back. “And I agree with the one part, but I know this; we will see each other again. When we’re both ready, perhaps a bit older, things will be different.”

“You always know just the right thing to say,” he smiled again as he pulled you into his arms to lay your head on his chest.

“Goodnight Dean,” you yawned as you nuzzled into him. 

Dean placed a kiss on top of your head, not allowing himself to fall asleep right away. He wanted to hold on to this feeling just a little longer as well because tomorrow, he knew it was all going to change. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” you heard Bobby yell out loud, snapping you awake in an instant.

Dean sprung himself up from the bed, leaving you to cover yourself up with the blanket. A look of fear and panic in his eyes.

“What the hell is going on here?” Bobby demanded. 

Dean held out his hand to try and calm him down, but it was not working.

“Bobby, it isn’t what it looks like,” Dean pleaded. “We didn’t do anything. We were just talking and I fell asleep.”

“Her shirt was off, and you just fell asleep?” Bobby looked at Dean with disappointment. “Do I look like an idjit to you? Now the two of you get dressed, in your own rooms. You have school and then your dad and your uncle will be here after.”

“You’re not going to tell them are you?” you asked in a panic. 

Bobby glared at the fear in Dean’s and your eyes as you awaited his answer.

“I’m supposed to be watching the two of you, and Dean you know better,” he glared at him hard. “I for sure ain’t saying shit to them. But you listen to me, this stops now or so help me I will kick both of your asses into next Tuesday.”

“Yes sir,” you both nodded in reply, feeling a little sense of relief. 

“Now get dressed,” Bobby stated as he walked out the door. 

You took in a deep breath and exhaled out as you turned to Dean who was almost out the door. 

“Dean?”

“You heard him, get dressed,” Dean said gruffly before walking out, shutting the door behind him. 

Dean hadn’t said anything else to you as you silently ate your breakfast and on your way to school. He was completely ignoring you now, even when you tried to speak, he chose to go the other way or say something to someone else. How he was acting was hurt, but you tried to just let it go, knowing he probably was just protecting himself and you from what awaited when you walked through the door after school. 

You saw your uncle and John sitting there waiting with Bobby. None of their faces really looked happy. 

“Dad-“ you heard Sam say as he walked in behind you.

“Time to pack your bags boys,” he instructed. “We’re moving on.”

“Yes sir,” you heard Dean state as he started for the stairs.

“Where are you going?” You asked out loud, making them all look at you in disbelief that you would even question what was happening. 

“Say goodbye to Sam and Dean, Y/N,” Danny stated as he stood up and gave you a small hug. “It’ll be awhile before you see them again.”

“This is bullshit,” you exclaimed. “Why do any of them, any of us have to go anywhere? What to live in the back of a car or a crappy motel, not knowing if any of you will ever come back?”

“Danny, settle down that girl there,” John advised.

“No, fuck you, ya prick,” you spat out, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. “They’re happy here, we all are. Bobby may not be our family, but he’s been here. He is at least trying to give us a normal life. Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

You felt guilty after hearing your words leave your mouth, as you looked up to your uncle. He had tried to be there, he just couldn’t. You now realized why he had brought you here in the first place. He knew he couldn’t do everything you needed. He was really trying to give you the life you deserved. 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you cried to your uncle before you ran out the door.

You plopped yourself down on the ground, tears flowing down your face. You heard the sound of gravel moving under someone’s steps, but you didn’t flinch. 

“That was some speech you gave in there,” John’s rough voice stated as he sat himself down next to you. “I can see you’ve really become attached to my boys and this place.”

You just nodded your head, feeling anger and resentment towards the man next to you.

“Me too,” he confessed. “That’s why they’re coming with me.”

You looked at him baffled, not understanding why he was even talking to you after what you just said.

“Your uncle is a strong man. One of the best guys I’ve ever known. He is doing right by you in letting you stay. I’m not as strong,” he sighed. “I need them around. I look at them and on my weakest days I can see my Mary in their faces. It’s what keeps me going as I try to figure out what happened to her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I feel like everything has been sugar coated for you for probably way too long,” he replied. “What happened to her, what happened to your parents, well someone has to stop it.”

“My parents…”

“We’re not sure if it’s the same thing, but we sure as hell won’t stop until we find it and kill it,” he answered back. “I know it’s a tough life for all of you kids, but you’re getting older now. You should know. Dean, he has been in this for so long, he knows what is expected. Sam, well although I’d like to keep him out of it, this has been his whole life. This is just what happens. You say your goodbyes and move on.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“You will,” he smiled. 

You both heard the door of the house swing open and shut, Dean walking out with a green duffel bag with Sam behind him. He paused as he looked at you both, unsure of what was happening. John looked over at you and Dean staring at each other, as Dean put his head down and helped Sam into the car. 

“They’ll be alright Y/N,” John stated, making you turn your head to him. “And so will you.”

He got up from his spot and brushed the dirt off of him as he walked towards his sleek black car.

“You boys all set?” He asked. 

Dean nodded as he stood there with the car door open, looking at you with sadness in his eyes. John turned to see you doing the same as he opened up the drivers door.

“Let’s get a move on it,” he said as he sat himself inside.

Dean looked down again, before looking back to you. You mouthed the word ‘goodbye’ as he nodded and got inside the car. The trail of dust they had left behind took minutes to disappear, but as it went down slowly and was gone, you knew they were now as well.

John’s words with everything that had happened replayed in your head. ‘You will’ he said, and at that moment, you hadn’t realized or known just how true that really was.

Tags: (Let me know if you don’t want added!)   @snffbeebee​ @waywardnerd67​ @waywardbaby​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @jaylarkson​ @ladywinchester1967​ @wildefire​ @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name @hobby27​ @iamabeautifulperson18​ @19agbrown​ @sonotalice​ @drakelover78​ @aloneanddesperate​ @pisces-cutie​ @biawol​ @jamielea81​ @fallininjapan​ @justkending​

#supernatural #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #ten years gone #ezilyamuzed #dean winchester #john winchester #bobby singer #dean x reader

[exquisitelyeco]

Memory

I don’t know ‘bout you, but my memory can really suck. Things I think are totally right, I realise are only partially right. I’ve got them jumbled. Forgotten bits.

It’s nearly got me into trouble. It was only Gods grace that saved me, by showing me, just as I said it, that I had gotten confused. I was then, thankfully able to correct it.

I try really hard to be truthful. Sometimes so rigidly, it’s painful and can blind me to other truth! The truth mercy gives. Not legalism.

Legalistic truth carries its own lies…..more on that later, on another bit of my blog……

My truth has been done in legalism, out of fear. Due too, you’ve guessed it, my illustrious father. And sadly, due to my mums theology, that had been taught to her. And because of her pain and damage.

One of the things he often did was to promise, if you told the truth you would not get a beating. So we would believe him and tell the truth. Then he would change his mind and beat us anyway.

And we always fell for it.

Mum, she would say you MUST do something. Like ‘You must forgive your dad (his treatment of you.) it’s not his fault. He was adopted. Really???? (What theology my mum had been taught was not helpful. To her or us. But she truly believed it. You must forgive. No choice. No feelings about it. That was all there was to it. But it denied what the forgiveness was needed for! It bundled away the pain and anger, but did not let it out. Just a fake smile in front to declare you had forgiven. Yes, we must forgive. But only once we have been truthful about how we felt, why we felt it, and have done something with it. Mum was not taught that. So she could not show us it.)

But I took it on board. Church preached you had to forgive. Trouble is, you were not even allowed to get angry. It was wrong. And if you did not forgive, God could not bless you or protect you.

So I was left with anger inside, and just didn’t know what to do. Confused to say the least.

I had a lightbulb moment today. I was saying how lately, when I have been angry with someone, I have really FELT it. Like wanting to beat the ex with a baseball bat. And I said to my friend it was because I had never been allowed to be angry. It was coming out now!

Then I saw the light bulb bit. That was Exactly it!!! Not only that, the anger I felt as a child and adolescent was not what I thought it was! I had been directing it towards the wrong person!

Oops. But horridly, that person was me. I hated me. Every mistake, everything about. I hated it. I turned my anger inwards, directing it at myself. Cutting myself. Head butting walls and giving myself concussion. Trying to kill myself.

And I suddenly realised today, that this was not, and never has been about me (most of it!) it’s been about my dad. But I never saw it. Of course I didn’t! I was programmed not too. I had to ‘forgive’ dad. I was not allowed to be angry with him.

So all that anger had to go somewhere. So I did what I had been taught to do. I turned it on myself. I hated conflict, so rather than face it, I’d hurt myself. And you know what?

I honestly believed it WAS me I was angry with! I truly 100% believed that I was angry with me. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve done many, many things that I AM angry with me for. But the underlying truth in this, was I learnt to focus anger that was totally righteous towards my dad, to believing it was really me I was angry with. Because one, I was not allowed to show anger, two, I had to forgive him and three, anger just was not allowed. Either by church, or my parents.

I remember getting angry a few times, as a child with my dad. He would punish me. One day, when I was three or four, he played a pocket money game. I got 20p a week pocket money. In one hand he had lots of 2ps and in another two 10ps. It had come out that I wanted the pennies, because I believed, being small, that that meant I got more.

So dad put the money in his hand and told me to guess which hand had the pennies in. I got it wrong. So he told me it served me right, as I had been greedy and I couldn’t have any. So I went behind the chair because I was upset.

I was told to come out or be sorted out.

As I wrote this just now, I was going to say, I sulked behind the chair. My truth. But then, actually I realised it was not the truth! (Remember the legalistic truth tells its own lies? This is one) Sulking was my dads version of the truth!! I was upset. I’d been tricked out of my pocket money, unfairly. Told off for something any child would do, and adults too for that matter! So I hid. And I got told off for not liking that I’d lost a horrid game dad played, and that I was unhappy. And had been unfairly treated.

So you see how subtle the truth is? From one side it looks harsh, from the other merciful. But I was was not shown the merciful side ever. I was shown the harsh side. I learned to tell every tiny detail. To Judge harshly. To hold nothing back. But doing that meant I tied myself in knots, only saw it from a harsh perspective and took it out on myself.

When if I had been taught to love myself, that it was ok to make mistakes, I would have been so different. Not driven by fear of punishment. So terrified into telling truth, but loved, so being able to tell the truth from a merciful and more, actually, truthful perspective. Because the perspective would not have been blinkered by fear of punishment. Where you blurt it all out, in fear, without thought, just terror of punishment. So you forget other bits of truth, in the terror of trying to tell it all.

When I first came to CCD church, I was being mentored by a lady called Yvonne. She spiritually helped me look at my issues and sort them out. Helped me clean up myself emotionally and mentally so to speak.

This one time, I was telling her I had been told by mum not to put a butterfly in a box. You see, I’d seen a pretty white butterfly and I wanted to keep it. Anyway, I put it in the box. I think it died. I do not remember what happened, to me, but if it did as it usually did, I got into big trouble.

So here I was telling a Yvonne and she said ‘What would God have done?’ I said, ‘He would have smacked me.’ Again she said, 'What would God have done?’ I said 'I was naughty, he would have smacked me.’ This went on for a few minutes. Her asking, me replying the same thing. Finally I got angry. And said ’ OKAY, God, what would you have done???’

What I got made me cry. He said ’ I would have taken you on my lap, explained why it had happened, and you would never have done it again.’

Loved into obedience.

Again, we talked about me stealing something. The same questions were asked. The same replies, vehemently given. 'I was naughty, I deserved it…’ 'Ask Him…’ Again, when God answered I cried.

'I would have told you what you had done. You would not have done it again.’

Loved. Into obedience. All I needed was telling. That’s how sensitive to obedience I was. I wanted to do right. I wanted to be sorry. I would have wept to my Papa that I was sorry, and never done it again. Not because of a beating, but just because he loved me.

Loved me into obedience.

My dad beat me. And beat me. Into submission, terror, fear, humiliation and confession, even if that confession was not quite right. He was never merciful.

I remember one game he played, he was kneeling on my elbows, so I couldn’t escape, and letting spittle drip from his mouth. A bit dropped off and got me. I got angry. I was told in no uncertain terms what would happen if I carried on….

One day when I was nine or ten, it was my turn to wash up. My father had recently brought a lethally sharp butchers knife. Huge and sharp. My sister and I had been told never to touch it, or we would have been, you’ve guessed it, beaten. So we didn’t.

Anyway. It was my turn to dry up. The knife had been washed up, and lay wet, with the other cutlery. My father turned around and he said to me, 'If that goes rusty, you are going to get a good hiding.’ Yup, you read rightly. He said 'If that goes rusty, you’ll get a good hiding.’ Make sense? Not to me either. In fact it put me into confusion and panic.

What could I do? If I touched it I’d be beaten, if I didn’t and it went rusty, I’d be beaten. So I dried it. And as I did, a huge blood stain seeped into the drying up towel. Huge. I had sliced two fingers wide open. I didn’t know what to do. If I told the truth and confessed I’d touched the knife I’d be beaten. So I went to my parents, and I lied. Terrified of the blood, terrified of my dad. I said I’d cut it on a normal dinner knife.

Mum took me to hospital, and they bound up my fingers, I still have a nasty scar to this day, right across the finger print of one of them. I went home with massive bandages on both fingers. My dad saw. He turned around and he said ’ That will teach you for telling lies’

The total bastard. And not allowed to be angry? Are you fucking kidding me? What a double binded twist. Two knives going into my heart at once. I did not even see it then. How unfair. You know what makes it worse? Better being cut with a huge, lethally sharp blade, than being beaten by my dad.

He had a few implements he liked to use. Going in seasons. For a long time, his real favourite was a switch, about two feet long. And as thin as a pencil, nearly. And my God, did I get beatings from that. He loved rubber soled slippers too. My sister and I had bruises to prove it. Finally the slippers wore out. We were so damn relieved. And what did he get for Christmas? Another pair.

So I learnt telling the truth means pain. If you do. If you don’t. What ever you do, you will never win. You are totally at the mercy of your judge. So truth to me, is a dirt word. Gods retribution if you lie. No forgiveness. Horrid consequences. Pain, pain, pain.

And yet, God would not have done any of that. HE would have just talked to me. Showed me His heart. No manipulation, no threats. And I would never had to be told again.

Do you know what that has shown me? I’m a daddies girl. If my father had allowed me to love him, rather than forcing me into fearing and hating him, I would have adored him. Had my arms around his neck most of the time. Idolised the ground he walked on. So would my sister. But because of his own pain, revenge and anger he refused to allow that. No one would have seen HIM vulnerable Thankyou very much. So he shut us out. And kept himself locked up. And ultimately it killed him. He lost his children. He lost his grandchildren. And at his funeral, his sisters epitaph at the church to the congregation was ’ When he said Jump, you said how high?’

And my own response? How bad is it, when you tell people, genuinely, that the best thing your dad ever did for you was to die? Cos that’s the truth. Plain, painful truth.

No religious smile. No forced forgiveness. No hiding behind Christian belief that God is angry because I’ve not forgiven. That’s the truth. I hated and feared my dad. It has scarred me to this day. It has affected every male relationship I have ever had, including my five sons. I hate and fear authority. Because of my dad.

And now I am having to realise it was not me. It was him. I don’t have to be angry at just me any more. I can put that anger where it belongs. On my dad. And maybe, by being truthful like that, I might then start on the road to actually wanting to forgive him. But in truth. Not in religion.

So bringing back to the start. Memories. They are shaped by how we felt, feel and believe. And going on this journey to clean up the hurt and damage is showing me memories are not always 100% correct. As the mask said again, 'Metaphorically speaking………..’