#while struggling with the fact that Sam & Dean have been through the same rewrites over the years but since they came less drastically.

[quietwingsinthesky]

Soooo badly want to combine twin!au with the “chuck has been mindcontrolling luci for years and it’s only just now stopped working so he’s back in s5 character” because can you imagine how distressing that would be for everyone involved?

Like Lucifer’s in full control of himself for the first time in years, after all the shit that went down post-s5, dealing with the repercussions of actions he performed but now honestly can’t tell which ones were things he would have actually done of his own volition and which were God yanking on his strings. And ALSO during that time he had sex in order to have a kid, but instead ended up with twins who no one wants him near! Because everyone hates him! And Heaven’s gone to shit, most of the angels are dead, the only archangel left alive is Michael and he’s still caged and Luci’s got no way of getting him out if he even wants to. (Which. Presumably he does. If only because at least he knows Michael and Michael hasn’t been on the receiving end of the shit he did the past few years and yeah, might still think of him as a monster but at least that was an image Lucifer was almost in control of.)

And then of course when he finally gets to see the twins, he gets to have a horrible moment of going “oh. Oh no. Oh no they’re me and Michael. God’s replaying the story again and with my kids.” Which is! Horrifying! For someone who has only just gotten free of having his entire character rewritten for the sake of being villainized easier by his own father!

#(​smashes my two most self-indulgent AUs together) aw yeah now we’re cooking with gas #endgame of this au is probably a) They Need To Kill God. and b) queerplatonic samifer raises angel babies #while struggling with the fact that Sam & Dean have been through the same rewrites over the years but since they came less drastically. #neither of them noticed #it’s just whump all around tbh #marieposting #neither s5 or late seasons lucifer would be good with kids is the thing but it’s like. in vastly different ways #s5 Lucifer is mostly like. why would he have experience doing this. why would he have any knowledge on it #besides what he took from nick’s memories when Nick had a Baby but per spn canon. #Jack & Marie aren’t babies long enough for that to help #and angels just aren’t children like that. they don’t grow the same way humans do. #Lucifer has been an older brother. but that’s about where his expertise ends in terms of ‘beings younger than him looking for guidance’ #well. and also demons. but. I don’t. think. that will. help. much. #although. it would be very sweet/strange to me in particular #if Lucifer referenced Lilith around them and the twins were like ‘??? who that’ #(​because it’s been years since Sam & Dean thought about Lilith. they’ve never mentioned her) #and without thinking Lucifer goes ‘your older sister.’ #HELP THINKING ABOUT MARIE HEARING ‘older sister’ AND GOING AH. SOMEONE TO EMULATE. NOOOO DONT DO THAT ALJFKFLSJF #sorry I’m rambling again #allow me my self indulgence.

[waywardaardvark79]

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 2, Episode 2: Everybody Loves a Clown

Summary: Y/N Singer joins Sam and Dean on the road. A rewrite starring you. 

Pairing: Dean X Reader, Sam X Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Show level violence, language

Word Count: 18,709 (I’m so sorry)

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I’m still not sure on a set schedule for this. I’ll try to get the next episode out as soon as I can. Tags open. 

You focused your eyes on a single glowing ember that seemed to float effortlessly through the night air. You tried your best to follow its path, a loud popping sound making you lose your focus, your attention falling back on the pyre and the burning body in front of you. John's body.

It was a moonless night, the only light coming from the pyre, as you stood in tense silence between Sam and Dean. You glanced over at Dean, who was standing about a foot away from you. He had his hands shoved into his pockets as he stared into the flames. His stance was ridgid, the expression on his face was devoid of any emotion.

His indifference would appear cold to anyone that didn't know him, but you knew that he was doing everything in his power to hold it all together. The truth was in his eyes. They told the story that the rest of his body tried to keep hidden. Swirling inside those green irises were a multitude of emotions. Despair, melancholy, guilt, self loathing, to name a few. They were the eyes of a broken man, the eyes of a man that was lost with no idea how or if he could ever get back to the person he was before.

You turned your attention back to the pyre, your own guilt eating you up inside. You couldn't help but blame yourself for John's demise. If he had only made a deal to bring Dean back and not you too, he'd still be here. Sure, the Colt and the bullet would be gone, but John would still be alive. Sam and Dean would still have their father, and you knew that in time they would both get over losing you. After all, John would be a lot more useful in the fight ahead.

You could hear Sam shifting back and forth on his feet, and you looked in his direction, your heart breaking at the sight of him. He was near tears, fidgeting uncomfortably as he stared at the pyre. You reached out for his hand, and laced your fingers with his, the pair of gloves you snatched from the hospital squeaking a little.

You looked down at your hand that was joined with his and noticed that Sam seemed to be holding onto you for dear life. Your hand looked so small in his. It reminded you of how a child's hand would look clutching onto their parent's hand, your mind quickly changing when you looked Sam in the eyes.

Despite his height and towering build, he looked so small in that moment. His shoulders were slumped forward, his eyes red rimmed and glassy as he did his best to hold back his tears. He looked like a heart broken little boy, and you wanted nothing more than to protect him and take his pain away.

You steeled your shoulders, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze as you turned your attention back to the pyre. You knew that you had to push down everything that you were feeling. You had to lock it all up somewhere deep inside of yourself because your feelings didn't matter right now. You knew that the only thing you could focus on was getting the two of them through this the best you could.

"Before he...before, did he say anything to you? About anything?" Sam quietly asked, breaking the silence.

"No. Nothing." Dean replied, not looking at Sam, his attention still on the pyre, you giving Sam's hand another squeeze when he let out a small, defeated breath.

The three of you had gone back to Bobby's, and you each slipped into a rather monotonous routine. Dean pushed everyone away, always insisting that he was completely fine. You weren't shocked by his behavior. You knew him too well, and you knew that he would be looking for anything to use as a distraction.

He threw himself into fixing the Impala, and the two of you generally avoided each other, only meeting up late at night to drink yourselves into oblivion. You knew that he needed his space, and you were more than happy to give it to him, only going to him when he sought you out.

You were sure that this type of interaction would be problematic for most people, but you completely understood. You knew that nothing you said to him would change anything, or make him feel better. So, why talk about something that you can't change? Dean never was the one to talk everything out, to lay everything out on the table. He held his cards close, and his walls were high. You couldn't blame him. You were the same way, both of you choosing to bottle everything up and pretend that everything was okay.

It would work for a little while, but you knew that he was a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later something would set him off, and all of that pent up emotion would come pouring out. So, you did the only thing you knew to do. You kept your distance, and just hoped that you would be able to put him back together when he broke.

When you weren't sleeping off yet another hangover you were with Sam. You listened to him vent every frustration he had without interruption. You offered whatever advice you could, and tried your best to convince him to just let Dean be. Sam was just wired differently than the two of you though. He needed to discuss every little detail, and it was almost as if he took offense to the fact that you and Dean didn't.

You and Bobby continued to tiptoe around each other. The awkwardness and unanswered questions of the fight the two of you had before the accident reared its ugly head now that you were back among the living.

There were no cross words spoken between the two of you. In fact, there were no words at all. You were afraid that if you tried to have a conversation with him you would blow up. You had so many questions, and you knew that he had answers. But, everytime you thought about approaching him you stopped yourself.  You were afraid that you wouldn't be able to control yourself. You were so incredibly angry with him, and you felt so betrayed.

It wasn't only Bobby that you were angry with. You were just angry in general. There wasn't one specific thing. It was everything honestly, and you found it growing worse as the days went on. You found yourself losing the battle to push it all down, and you were afraid that the next little thing was going to end up setting you off.

You had managed to distance yourself from everyone for most of the day. The house was now relatively quiet. Bobby had gone to bed hours ago, Sam was upstairs going through some of John's things, and Dean was still outside. You were sitting on the couch, your journal open in your lap, with the TV on in the background for noise.

You flipped through the pages until you came upon a blank one. You had been trying to remember what happened at the hospital, but you could never come up with a full sequence of events. It was all flashes, a giant jigsaw puzzle with too many missing pieces.

You thought that writing down what you could remember might help bring everything back, but you didn't know where to start. The gaps were too large and the things you could remember made no sense to you. Still, you knew that you had to try.

You could remember feeling like you were somewhere that you shouldn't be. Different colors started to flash through your mind, and you tried to clear all of your other thoughts to focus on them.

At first there was green. You scribbled the color down in your journal, your pen absentmindedly underlining the color as you thought back on what it could mean. You jotted down the word "outside" before following after it with a question mark. You couldn't be sure, but you had a gut feeling that the place you had been was somewhere outdoors, rationalizing that the flashes of green you kept seeing could be that of trees.

You looked down at the paper, the end of your pen held loosely between your teeth as the next color flashed through your mind. B-L-U-E, you wrote, carefully printing each letter. You found yourself tracing over each letter as you struggled with the memories that color brought.

Blue was a contradiction. One moment you found yourself completely uncomfortable, the color bringing out feelings of fear and dread. However, a split second later everything you were feeling about that color completely shifted. Blue no longer made you fearful or filled you with dread. No, instead you felt comfort, relief, thankful even. You couldn't understand the drastic change. Nothing you could come up with made any sense. Still, you wrote down the different feelings under the word blue before moving onto the next color.

You had no trouble remembering the next color. You also understood all of the feelings attached to it, and didn't think you could forget them even if you wanted to. Y-E-L-L-O-W, you wrote, underlining it harshly.

You could still see those yellow eyes clear as day. You could remember the way they raked over you and the way they lit up with glee whenever he spoke to you. He always did seem to get some kind of sick enjoyment out of toying with you.

You could still remember the way the corner of his mouth turned up when he told you that John had to sweeten the pot for you, and you still got a shiver down your spine when you thought about those two words he said to you.

No choice. Those two words were running through your head on an endless loop. He told you that you had no choice. You had no choice about trying to save John, and no choice about your destiny. He made sure to stress that, those yellow eyes of his alight with pleasure as he placed his hand on your forehead.

Those two words flipped a switch in you. The anger that you had been trying so hard to contain went from a dull simmer to a raging boil just like that. Your heart was pounding in your chest, one fist clenched by your side while the other hand thumped your pen frantically against the paper in front of you. You could swear that you could feel you body getting hot from the inside, the heat seeming to start in your middle before radiating throughout the rest of you. You were afraid that there was nothing you could do to contain it now. The only thing you could do was  pray that no one crossed your path.

Sam could feel his eyes growing tired, the small screen he had been staring at starting to blur. He had been trying to crack John's voicemail code for hours, but so far he had come up empty. Sam flipped the phone closed and tossed it on the bed beside him before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He laid there for a moment and listened to the sounds of the house settling around him.

Those sounds brought back a flood of childhood memories and a strange sense of comfort. He felt a small smile slide across his face and thought that it was funny how the creaks of an old house could bring someone joy. He couldn't help but go down memory lane.

He always did feel safe there at Bobby's when he was a child. It wasn't that he didn't feel safe with John or Dean, but Bobby had an actual home. He had always been a bit jealous of you for that. Sure, you were no stranger to motel living, but you always had a home to come back to. You had your own room, and possessions that weren't hand me downs. You had some sense of normalcy, a routine, and he could remember how badly he craved that, part of him still did.

Sam thought back to the times the two of you spent there as children. He could remember playing made up games with you while Dean huffed and puffed about how annoying the two of you were. He could remember running up and down the stairs with you, the two of you always careful to avoid the step that creaked loudly when the two of you were sneaking around doing something that you shouldn't have been, and he could remember that the two of you always insisted on sharing a bed.

He chuckled to himself at some of the things the two of you used to talk about late at night. You had both made so many plans for when you were adults, vowing of course to do them together. That's what best friends did after all. They stuck together through everything. He could also remember the day all of those childhood plans changed.

The two of you were quite a bit older then, around sixteen, and it had been quite some time since the two of you had seen each other in person. John kept both Sam and Dean on the road with him, neither one of them needing Bobby to look after them anymore. Still, the two of you kept in close contact, calling each other whenever you could.

Sam was sitting in yet another dump of a motel room, a lore book open in front of him. John and Dean had left not long ago to start chasing down leads. Sam flipped through a couple of pages before closing the book. He drummed his fingers on the table while he stared at the book, knowing that he should be doing what his father asked of him. Instead, he pushed back his chair from the table and made his way to the beat up motel phone on the nightstand.

He picked up the receiver and held it between his ear and shoulder while he dialed your number. He made sure to only let the phone ring twice. It was the signal the two of you had always used. Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbing the phone from the nightstand and placing it in his lap as he anxiously waited for you to call back. He was tempted to try you again and found himself reaching quickly for the receiver when it finally started to ring.

"Sammy!" you shouted before he even had a chance to say hello.

"Y/N? Everything okay?" Sam asked, worried that something was wrong.

"Yeah, yeah, everything is fine. Better than fine really. You shoulda seen it, Sammy. It was so fuckin' awesome." you excitedly rambled, Sam chuckling on the other end.

"Yeah, what's that?" Sam asked, just hearing your voice bringing a smile to his face.

"So, Uncle Rufus shows up out of nowhere a few days ago, and he starts telling Dad about this case he's been working. Long story short, he ends up talking Dad into helping out, and they let me go." you said, Sam interrupting.

"How long did it take you to pull that off?" he asked, knowing just how overprotective Bobby was.

"Really, Sam?" you scoffed as you cocked your head to the side to hold the phone with your shoulder, your hands busy unpacking. "You know I've been working whenever I can."

"Yeah." Sam breathed out, his fingers fiddling with the phone cord. "So, what was the case?"

"Ghouls." you excitedly replied, sucking in a deep breath before quickly speaking again. "I wish you coulda seen it. I had this one head shot that was right out of a fuckin' Romero movie. It was awesome. You gotta tell your dumbass brother that I just took the lead away from him."

"His lead?" Sam asked, confused as to what the two of you were competing about now.

"Yeah, when you guys stopped by a few months ago we kinda got into an argument." you explained, Sam laughing under his breath.

"What a surprise." he sarcastically said, you and Dean couldn't seem to be in the same room for five minutes without arguing about something.

"Yeah, who woulda guessed, right? Anyway, we kinda got this...uh, little friendly competition going, and this hunt just put me in the lead. Just rub it in a little for me, would ya? Make sure you tell him that I'm just gonna keep kickin' his ass." you said, Sam not saying anything. "Sam? You still there?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll, uh...I'll be sure to tell him." Sam said, you immediately picking up the shift in his mood.

"Hey, you alright?" you asked, knowing that he had something on his mind.

"Fine." Sam replied, not convincing you at all.

"Sam." you said, pausing a moment, hoping that he would speak up.

"Really Y/N, I'm fine. I'm just tired." he lied as he looked down at his duffel bag. "I just needed a little break."

"John got you doing research?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

"Yeah." Sam answered as he pulled a notebook from the bottom of his duffel.

"What've ya got so far?" you asked, still thinking that there was something more on his mind. "Sam?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, not sure yet. Dad and Dean are lookin' at the body now." Sam said as he flipped open the notebook and looked at some of the college brochures he had tucked inside, the line silent for a few minutes as you waited for him to speak again. "Hey Y/N, you ever think about..." Sam started, going quiet again before finishing his sentence.

"Ever think about what?" you asked, wanting him to continue.

"It's nothing, nevermind." Sam breathed out.

"Sam." you said, wanting to know what was bothering him.

"You ever think about getting out? About....I don't know, having a normal life?" Sam finally asked, you pausing a moment as you tried to think of what to say.

"Define normal." you said, Sam sighing at your less than serious approach. "Fine. When I was younger I thought about it. Remember how we'd talk about all the shit we were gonna do? But, I...I don't know, Sam. It's just not realistic anymore, you know? I mean, do you really think either one of us could just be some normal fuckin' persin with everything we know? Besides, I don't really think I'm cut out for it. I mean, could you really see me living some normal, picket fence, nine to five life?"

"Maybe you're right. I just....I." Sam said, stopping short.

"Sam, it shouldn't matter what I say. Is that what you want? Do you want out?" you asked, Sam sighing on the other end.

"I...I don't know. Sometimes." he said, pausing a moment. "I don't think I can do this for the rest of my life, but-" he tried, you interrupting.

"But nothing. If you don't want to hunt, Sam, don't hunt." you said as if it was the most simple simple thing ever.

"Yeah, cause that's gonna go over great with Dad." Sam fired back, you letting out a slow breath.

"Look, Sam...nobody can tell you what to do with your life but you. I can't tell you, neither can Dean or JOHN. It's your life, and it's your fuckin' choice. I know that there isn't anything you can do about it right now, but if you still want out when the times comes then there is nothing anyone can do about that but you." you said, your tone a little harsher than you meant it.

"Yeah, I better get back to this. I'm sure they won't be gone much longer." Sam said, making you feel guilty.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I just...I want you to be happy, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta think about yourself, and not worry about what everyone else is gonna think." you said, Sam quiet for a moment.

"I think I'm just frustrated. It was just...just a crazy idea. I didn't mean anything by it." Sam said, you knowing that there was no truth behind it.

"Yeah, okay. But, Sam, if it wasn't just a crazy idea...I hope you know that I would be there for you. No matter what you decide, I'll always be here. You can't get rid of me, Sammy." you said, wanting to end things on a better note.

"I don't think I could get rid of you if I tried." Sam teased, chuckling to himself.

"You're God damn right about that. Call me back if you need anything." you said, pausing a moment, trying to think of something to say to make him laugh. "I mean, we both know that I'm the superior researcher." you added, Sam barking out a laugh.

"Sure you didn't hit your head on that hunt?" he asked, a smile sliding onto your face. "I'll call you soon."

"You better." you said, not wanting to get off of the phone with him, but knowing that he had things to do. "Bye, Sammy."

"Bye, Y/N" Sam said, feeling the same way you did, quickly hanging up the phone before either of you could say anything else.

Sam looked down at the brochures in his lap and quickly placed them back in the notebook before shoving the notebook to the bottom of his bag, making sure that it was completely hidden under his clothes. Sam knew that there was no point in bringing them up to you. You had more or less made up your mind about what your life was going to be, but part of him still hoped that maybe one day you would change it.

Sam always knew that he didn't want to live that sort of life. He always yearned for something normal, something safe. He knew that his father would never leave the life. He was in far too deep, far too obsessed with his revenge mission. He had no illusions that his brother would ever leave either. Dean was following directly in John's footsteps.

You were his last hope. The two of you had always done everything together for as far back as he could remember, and the conversation that the two of you just had left a bad taste in his mouth. As bad as he wanted to start a new, normal life, he didn't want to do it alone. He wanted you with him, but deep down he knew that it just wasn't going to happen.

You were made for that life. It was in your blood, and he knew that you'd never leave it behind. Sam knew that he would be the one doing the leaving, and he knew that when the time came he would have to do it without looking back.

Sam swung his legs off the side of the bed, and grabbed John's phone before standing up. He tossed the phone into his bag before walking to the door and stepping out into the hall. He looked at your closed bedroom door and thought about just walking by, but with everything that had been going on he honestly didn't want to be alone.

He stopped in front of your door and raised his fist to knock, trying to be as quiet as he could, "Y/N." he softly said, waiting for you to respond.

After a few moments Sam cracked open your bedroom door and peaked inside, "Y/N, it's me." he said before noticing that you weren't there.

He eased the door shut before heading for the stairs. He tried to be as quiet as he could, taking extra precaution to avoid the squeaky step. He could hear the TV and hoped that you and Dean were still up.

"Guys?" he called out before he made it into the living room.

Once again Sam got no response, and simply decided that the two of you must have fallen asleep with the TV on. That changed when he saw you sitting on the end of the couch. He noticed that you were staring blankly ahead, one of your legs bouncing up and down as if you were anxious.

"Y/N?" Sam called out, coming to a stop by the arm of the couch. "Y/N?" he tried again when he didn't get an answer.

Sam watched as you slowly turned your head and looked in his direction. He couldn't quite read the expression on your face, but he found himself growing a little uneasy. You looked so on edge, and he quickly took a step back.

"Hey..." he started, pausing a moment, watching you closely. "Have you...uh, have you seen Dean?"

"I'm not your brother's fuckin' keeper." you spat, Sam instantly shrinking back.

"I'm...I didn't mean-" Sam started, you quickly cutting him off.

"Fuck." you breathed out, running your hands through your hair. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to...You didn't deserve that. I just...I'm..." you said, trailing off.

"No, I get it. Everything is a little tense. It's okay." Sam said, his forgiving attitude making you more angry.

"God dam it. No, it's not. Nothing about any of this is okay, Sam. I don't just get free reign to be an asshole!" you snapped, closing your journal and tossing it aside. "You should just-" you tried to say, Sam interrupting.

"Since when is being an asshole out of the ordinary for you?" Sam asked, trying to lighten the mood, rendering you speechless for a moment.

"Can't you just get pissed off and yell at me like a fuckin' normal person?" you asked, Sam sighing as he shook his head.

"What would that solve?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.

"I don't know. Hell, it might make you feel better. You know, giving me a taste of my own medicine." you said, trying your best to calm down.

"Does that really work for you? Do you ever really feel better?" Sam asked, you shrugging your shoulders.

"Sometimes." you said, leaning your head back against the couch.

"Look, you were obviously in the middle of something, and I interrupted." Sam said, you scoffing.

"Don't make excuses for me, Sam. Call it like it really is. I'm a fucking asshole." you said, looking over to him.

"Like it is, huh?" Sam asked, you nodding. "Alright, I think that you are doing everything in your power to avoid dealing with things. Dean, too. You are both so in your heads, and neither one of you will do what needs to be done."

"Yeah, what's that? What need to be done?" you asked, a little defensively.

"We need to TALK about things! We need to sit down and try to put all of the pieces together." Sam said, you rolling your eyes as you let out an annoyed huff.

"Don't go all after school special on me, Sam. Some big group therapy session isn't going to change a God damn thing." you shot back, Sam beginning to get frustrated.

"Yeah, cause sitting here doing what we've been doing is really helping." Sam argued, both of you staring each other down.

"What do you want to hear, Sam? What the fuck do you want me to say?" you asked, trying to keep your temper under control.

"ANYTHING, Y/N! Anything would be better than what you're doing now." Sam shot back.

"Fine." you said, keeping eye contact with him. "I don't know what to fucking do, Sam. I can't even fathom where to start. Nothing I do or say is gonna change what happened. I can't fix any of this. I can't help you. I sure as fuck can't help Dean. I can't even help my fuckin' self. I don't know what happened to me, Sam. I can't remember, but I know that this is my fault. I know that I am the one to blame for all of this."

"What does that mean? What's your fault?" Sam asked, his expression softening.

"Everything, Sam." you said, your voice breaking. "If I wasn't here...John would be."

"You don't know that." Sam said, the sound of a door opening and closing stopping him from saying more.

The two of you listened as Dean made his way to the stairs. He didn't acknowledge you or Sam, his heavy steps on the stairs intermingling with the low mumble of the television. You and Sam sat there in silence as the sounds of Dean's footsteps started to fade.

"Y/N, we need to talk about this, and Dean does too." Sam finally said as you stood up from the couch.

"One existential crisis at a time, Sam. We'll talk tomorrow." you said, completely drained.

Sam studied you for a moment before slowly nodding his head, "Yeah." he sighed, knowing that you would make up an excuse to avoid it.

"Get some sleep, Sam." you said before leaving the room and heading towards the kitchen.

You were seated at the kitchen table, one finger lazily circling the condensation ring left behind by your now empty beer. You made it a point to only drink one, knowing that Dean would want the rest of the six pack. Sam had gone to bed about thirty minutes ago, and you finally forced yourself to stand up from your spot.

You made your way back to the couch and plopped down on the middle cushion, grabbing one of the worn throw pillows and tucking it under your head as you pulled your legs up and laid down. You grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned the volume down a little on the television, keeping it barely audible. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on the infomercial dialogue, trying your best to clear your mind of everything. You finally managed to fall asleep only to be pulled awake a couple of hours later by the sound of someone rummaging around in the kitchen.

You quickly sat up and found yourself searching for a weapon in your half asleep state. A mumbled string of curse words set your mind at ease and you stopped your search, recognizing the voice and realizing that you were in no danger. You slowly stood up and made your way towards the kitchen, stopping to lean against the doorframe once you got there.

"Top shelf...towards the right." you said, Dean's back to you as he searched the cabinets.

You knew what he was searching for, the empty beer bottles on the table letting you know that he was after something a little stronger. You watched as he found the bottle and turned so that he was leaning against the counter, facing you. He unscrewed the cap and tossed it to the side, sending it sliding down the counter before raising the bottle to his lips.

You couldn't help but think back to the night that he showed up to tell you about Sam. The positions the two of you were in mirrored the ones from that night, but so many things had changed since then. The two of you almost looked like completely different people, both of you seeing more things in that short amount of time than most people would see in an entire lifetime.

"At least I don't have a gun this time." you said, echoing back to that night, hoping that Dean would know what you were talking about.

"Or a douche bag hiding out in your room." Dean shot back, referring to Jake, the corner of your mouth turning up.

"Nah, he's just hiding out in the kitchen this time." you said, Dean huffing out a laugh.

The two of you slipped into silence, neither one of you sure of what to say next. You could feel his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to look up and meet them. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, his eyes darting to the bottle in his hand.

"You, uh, you should try to get some rest." you finally said before turning to head back to the couch, Dean watching you go without saying anything.

You had tucked yourself into the corner of the couch, your legs drawn up underneath you, your elbow on the armrest of the couch, your head cradled in your hand. You could still hear Dean in the kitchen. It almost sounded like he was pacing back and forth, his footsteps growing louder before fading away, the process continuing over and over. You thought about calling out to him, the sudden stopping of his footsteps causing you to stop and listen. Suddenly, his footsteps started back up, and you could tell that he was headed in your direction.

"Want some company?" Dean asked as he walked into the room, raising the bottle in his hand and giving it a little shake.

"I never say no to a drink." you replied as you looked up at him, Dean looking somewhat relieved as he made his way to the couch.

"You and Sam figure anything out?" Dean asked, nodding his heads towards your journal on the coffee table before passing you the bottle.

"No." you said, taking the bottle from him and raising it to your lips, Dean leaning his head back against the couch.

"He grill you too?" he asked, not looking at you.

"I deserved worse than I got." you said before taking one more drink, Dean holding out his hand for the bottle. "I fuckin' snapped, and I just wanted him to get mad. I wanted him to fuckin' yell at me, but all he wanted to do was-"

"Talk." Dean finished for you, you giving him a small nod. "Yeah, I got that speech too. He...he just..."

"That's just Sam." you said, reaching for the bottle. "I gotta say...this way is a little easier." you added, Dean giving you a half smile.

"Drown it out, right?" he sighed, turning to look at you.

"Drown it out." you echoed, the two of you sharing a look before slipping into silence, passing the bottle back and forth.

"Do you...do you remember anything?" Dean finally asked, you looking away from him.

"Not really. I mean, not anything fuckin' useful. I, uh, I...I remember looking for you, and I remember being fuckin' pissed." you said, not able to tell him about the conversation you had with Yellow Eyes.

"Yeah, I remember lookin' for you too, and the, uh, light." Dean said, pausing a moment. "Where'd you go?"

"I...I don't know." you breathed out, Dean nodding slowly. "I keep tryin' to make fuckin' sense of it, but-"

"You can't." Dean finished for you. "I can't either." he added, a distant, defeated look in his eyes.

"Hey." you said, placing a gloved hand just above his knee. "We'll figure it out. Everything...everything is gonna be okay."

"Yeah." Dean said, giving you a sad smile, not believing a word you said, and you couldn't blame him. "Guess we should call it a night."

"Yeah, I'll, uh, I'll take the couch tonight. You take my bed." you said, Bobby making it abundantly clear that there would be no bed sharing.

"No, you take it." Dean said as he propped his feet up on the coffee table, you rolling your eyes. "Couch is fine with me. You drink enough, you can sleep anywhere."

"No point in arguing, De. You're not gonna win." you said, Dean looking at you as he slouched down onto the couch, his head lying back against the back.

"I'm not movin'." he said, closing his eyes. "But, you know, it's technically not a bed, so..." he added, trailing off as he raised his arm, silently inviting you over.

"Well, since you're gettin' all fuckin' technical on me." you said, scooting over until you were nestled into his side, his arm coming down to wrap around you.

You closed your eyes as you snuggled into his side, the corner of your mouth turning up when you felt him press his lips against the top of your head. You didn't say anything when he lingered, his chest rising as he breathed you in.

"Get some sleep, De." you said, patting his chest, Dean's other hand coming up to rest on yours. "I'll be right here."

You jerked awake, your heart beating wildly in your chest, your breaths short and quick as your eyes darted around the room. You felt Dean shift underneath you, and you tried to match your breathing to his, your hand rising and falling with his chest in a smooth, easy rhythm. You knew that it was just a nightmare, but you also knew that there was no way you would be able to fall back asleep.

You eased yourself out from under Dean's arm, being careful not to wake him, and moved to the edge of the cushion before quickly getting to your feet. You looked over your shoulder at Dean, and stood still for a moment, making sure that he wouldn't wake up. Once you were certain that he wouldn't wake up you grabbed the whiskey bottle from the coffee table and crept from the room.

You had finally made it outside, and allowed yourself to let out of sigh of relief. You had no idea what time it was, but you knew it was early morning. The sky was starting to lighten, the sun beginning to peak over the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with brilliant shades of orange, pink, and red. You couldn't remember the last time you had watched the sunrise. In fact, you weren't entirely sure that you had ever taken the time to actually appreciate it. Honestly, it had never been on your list of priorities and as pretty as it was, you couldn't say that it topped your list now.

There were far too many other things on your mind, and you thought that if you just kept walking you could leave them all behind. So, that's what you did. You walked. You walked up and down the haphazard rows of broken down vehicles, your fingers wrapped loosely around the neck of the whiskey bottle that dangled at your side. But, no matter how many trips you took up and down the rows the thoughts that you were so desperate to outrun always seemed to be just one step behind. They were still there, taunting you, letting you know that no amount of running would suffice.

You stopped in your tracks and looked over at the beaten up, old Lincoln on your left. You curled your fingers tighter around the neck of the whiskey bottle and climbed up onto the hood, leaving your legs dangling freely over the edge. If running wasn't going to work, you had the next best thing. After all, drowning everything out would be much easier. There was far less work in that solution. Just as you raised the bottle to your lips you heard the crunch of footsteps and turned to see Bobby walking towards you.

"Glad you finally stopped. I didn't know how much longer I could keep up." Bobby said, stopping a couple of feet in front of the car.

"You've been following me the whole time?" you asked, a little shocked that you didn't pick up on his presence, Bobby giving you a subtle nod.

"Maybe if you laid off the sauce you woulda known." he said, gesturing towards the bottle.

"Yeah...maybe, but where's the fun in that?" you asked before taking a drink.

"Doesn't look like fun to me, Kid." Bobby said, coming to lean against the hood next to you.

"Yeah, what's it look like then?" you asked, a little defensively, Bobby pausing a moment before turning to look at you.

"It looks like you're runnin', or tryin' to at least." Bobby said, causing you to scoff. "I know you're going through it right now, Kid."

"You read minds now, too?" you asked, anger starting to boil up again.

"No." Bobby said, trying to choose his next words carefully. "But, there ain't many things you can hide from me."

"Yeah, you're good enough at that for the both of us." you snapped back, Bobby's posture going ridgid, "What? Nothin' to say now?"

"I did what I had to do to keep you safe." Bobby said, his response exasperating you.

"From what?!" you yelled, Bobby looking over at you.

"From everything." he returned. "That was my job, and I did what I had to do."

"That doesn't fuckin' tell me anything." you snapped, your grip on the bottle tightening.

"I know." Bobby said, looking down at his feet. "But, that's why I'm out here, Kid. You ask, and I'll tell you what I know."

"Just like that?" you asked, Bobby looking back at you.

"Just like that." he echoed, trying to prepare himself for your questions, watching as you looked away from him, the bottle still clutched tightly in your hand.

"Who...who were they?" you quietly asked. "My parents."

"Your father was a hunter, a good one. James McKenzie. I worked a few cases with him in the early days. I met him though Rufus." Bobby explained, you still looking away from him.

"And her?" you asked, Bobby taking a deep breath.

"I don't know. You gotta understand, Kid...I didn't keep in regular contact with him. He never mentioned anyone, not even the night he showed up with you. I tried to track down what I could. Rufus did too, but we never got anything solid. It was all just through the grapevine bullshit. Some said that she was in the life too, and...and-" Bobby tried, you cutting him off.

"And, it ended like it fuckin' always does. Bloody." you said, Bobby remaining quiet for a moment.

"I can't say for sure." Bobby sighed. "I looked for him too, but I couldn't find anything. It was like he just...disappeared. I kept up the search until..."

"Until?" you asked, finally looking over at him.

"Until it got too dangerous to continue it. You were about four, maybe five." Bobby started, seeming reluctant to continue. "You...you just...you knew things, Kid, and it was stuff you had no way of knowin'. "he said, waiting for you to respond.

"What the fuck does that mean?" you asked, your heart starting to pound.

"It means that...it means..." Bobby started, trailing off before he could finish his thought.

"It means what? What the fuck does it mean?!" you yelled, throwing the bottle, watching as it shattered against a car across from you.

"You would pick up on things, say things that you couldn't know. Things...things that I was thinking, and then there were the dreams." Bobby said, you getting up from the car to pace.

"Dreams?" you asked, pacing back and forth.

"Doctors said they were just night terrors, but they weren't.""Bobby said, his answer rather vague.

"How did you know?" you asked, still pacing.

"I just did." he said, you whipping to face him.

"So, not only did you lie about who I was, but you lied about what I could do, too?" you asked, speaking again before Bobby had a chance to answer. "And, you can't say that you never had the chance to tell me. I called you. I called you, and I told you that I thought something was wrong with me. And, what did you do? You fuckin' lied! You told me that I was fine!"

"You know that people don't always take kindly to what they don't understand. Especially in this business. They would have shot first and asked questions later." Bobby said, you starting to pace again.

"So, you're telling me that you kept everything quiet 'cause you didn't want some hunter findin' out? Scared they were gonna shoot the freak?!" you yelled, Bobby shaking his head.

"Kid, you're not a-" he started, you quickly cutting him off.

"What? Not a freak? Not some sort of fuckin' monster?!" you asked, pulling the glove off of your right hand, the ball of light quickly forming before you sent it crashing into the car across from you, the glass shattering and the metal denting. "Does that look fuckin' human to you?"

"A parent does what they have to do to protect their child." Bobby said, you shaking your head.

"I'm not your kid! Don't you see that everyone would have been a lot better off if you would've just thrown me to the fuckin' wolves all those years ago? I mean, I've been fucking shit up since I was born." you said, a quizzical expression on Bobby's face.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, frustration seeping through.

"It's my fault that my parents are gone. And, who's to say that there's not a trail after them? I mean, you said so yourself. You did what you had to do to keep me safe, to keep everything under wraps." you said, Bobby looking at you a moment before speaking.

"None of that's on you." he said, you huffing out an annoyed laugh.

"It is. I may not have known, but it is. And, then there's John." you said, fixing Bobby with a cold stare.

"John?" Bobby asked, you nodding.

"I don't remember everything that happened, but I remember that. He's gone because of me. If he wouldn't have made the deal for me, then he'd still be here. So, how can you stand there and tell me that everyone is better off with me here?" you asked, your voice cracking a little.

"You can't blame yourself for John's decision. He knew what he was doing, and you don't get to make decisions for everyone else." Bobby said, you interrupting.

"I'm not-" you tried to say, Bobby cutting you off.

"No, you're gonna listen. You say that everyone would be better off if you were gone, but that's bullshit. You think those boys would be better off?" Bobby started, you quickly cutting him off.

"Of course I do! They lost their fucking father because of me!!" you yelled, Bobby shaking his head.

"Family doesn't end with blood, Kid. Those boys would be lost without you, and so would I. I...I've done a lot of things that I'm not proud of, things that haunt me to this day, but you are the one thing that I'm proud of. Hell, you're the reason I'm still going, Kid, and I wouldn't change a thing. I'd do all of it over again, the same exact way if it meant that you were safe."

"But-" you tried to say, Bobby speaking up before you could say anything.

"You listen to me. I may not have made ya, but you're mine. I'm not going anywhere. A parent is there for the good, the bad, and the ugly. And, right now it's pretty God damn ugly, but we're gonna figure all this out, together. Now, you can be mad all you want. I can understand that, but you don't get to check out on me. And, you ain't gettin' rid of me. Cause even if you don't want me to, I'm gonna be there. Ya' got that, Kid?" Bobby asked, you looking at him with teary eyes, waiting a minute before speaking.

"Yeah, I, uh, I got it." you said, trying not to cry, Bobby closing the gap between the two of you to pull you into a hug.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Kid." he said, holding you tightly. "I promise."

Dean was back underneath the Impala, only his legs visible from beneath the frame. He spent all of his time working on it, and although it was little more than a rusted frame, it looked considerably less crushed than it did.

"How's the car coming along?" Sam asked as he approached.

"Slow." Dean said, his reply short.

"Yeah? Need any help?" Sam asked, Dean dropping something heavily.

"What, you under a hood? I'll pass. I'd rather have Singer under here." Dean said, Sam pausing a moment before speaking.

"Need anything else, then?" Sam asked, Dean pushing himself out from under the car and getting to his feet.

"Stop it, Sam." Dean warned, Sam looking a little taken aback.

"Stop what?" Sam asked, Dean shaking his head.

"Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise." Dean said, Sam slowly nodding, trying to think of a way to make his point without starting a fight. 

"All right, Dean, it's just...We've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once." Sam said, Dean turning to face him.

"You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance. I swear, you're a bigger girl than Singer. She's not out here pushin' me." Dean said, Sam's frustration starting to show.

"Don't patronize me, Dean. Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened." Sam said, Dean shaking his head.

"What do you want me to say?" Dean asked.

"Say something, all right. Hell, say anything. Neither one of you have ever had a problem running your mouths before, but now I can't get either one of you to say more than a couple of words. Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car." Sam ranted, his frustration seeping through.

"Revenge, huh?" Dean asked, Sam nodding.

"Yeah." Sam replied, hoping that he'd gotten through to him.

"Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But, you know, if we do finally find it- oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But, I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So, you know the only thing I can do? I can work on the car." Dean said, crouching down by the car to get back to work.

"Well, we've got something, all right?" Sam said, pulling out a cell phone. "It's what I came by here to tell you. This is one of Dad's old phones. Took me awhile, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this." Sam said as he held out the phone to Dean, who stood and took it reluctantly.

"John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn. You know I can help you. Call me." the voicemail said, Sam looking to Dean.

"That message is four months old." Sam said, Dean's interests piqued.

"Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam replied.

"Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?" Dean asked, Sam shaking his head.

"No. But, I ran a trace on her phone number, and I got an address." Sam said, Dean nodding.

"Go tell Singer, and ask Bobby if we can  use one of his cars." Dean instructed, Sam quickly turning to go before Dean could change his mind.

"This is humiliating. I feel like a fuckin' soccer mom!" Dean exclaimed as the three of you got out of the beat up, poorly maintained minivan that was parked in front of the bar Ellen owned, The Roadhouse.

"It's the only car Bobby had running." Sam said as he looked around the rather empty parking lot. "Hello? Anybody here?"

"So, you know these people?" Dean asked, glancing over at you.

"Yeah, haven't seen 'em in a long time though." you said, adjusting your gun, Dean turning to Sam.

"Hey. You bring the, uh..." he started to ask, Sam nodding.

"Of course." he said, tossing something to Dean before opening the door to go inside.

The Roadhouse was quiet with the exception of a fly buzzing around, "Come on." you said, walking ahead of the two of them, a light bulb suddenly blowing, leaving the bar a little darker than it was.

The three of you came upon a passed out man, and Sam looked down at him, "Hey, buddy?" he asked, pausing a moment. "I'm guessing that isn't Ellen."

"Yeah." Dean said as Sam went into a back room to look around, leaving you and Dean alone, the two of you walking further into the bar.

"Stop." you said, hearing someone behind you, putting your hand out in front of Dean, the two of you side by side.

"Oh God, please let that be a rifle." Dean said, feeling the point of a gun touch his back.

"Maybe they're just real happy to see us." you said, the gun cocking.

"Don't move." a female warned, you thinking that you recognized the voice, glancing over to Dean and giving him a subtle nod.

"Not moving, copy that. You know, you should know something, miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't want to put it right against their back. Because it makes it real easy to do..." Dean said, turning fluidly, grabbing the rifle and cocking it. "That."

You turned just in time to see Dean get punched in the nose, the rifle quickly taken away from him as his hands flew to his nose.

"Easy, Jo." you said, pulling your gun as she pointed the rifle at you.

"I know you?" she asked, the two of you in a standoff.

"Sam! Need some help in here." Dean called out before muttering, "I can't see. Singer, I can't even see."

"I got it handled." you said, Jo taking a step towards you, the rifle now within your reach.

"You sure about that?" Dean asked, still clutching his nose as the back door opened to reveal Sam walking though slowly with both hands on his head, Jo turning her head to look, her finger no longer on the trigger.

"Yeah." you said, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and snatching it from her, Jo looking at you in shock as you passed the gun to Dean.

"Sorry, guys. I can't right now. I'm a...little tied up." Sam said, nodding his head, indicating that there was someone behind him.

"Don't worry, Sammy. We've got it handled." you said before looking over to Dean. "Well, maybe not we. Dean wasn't really much help."

"Sam? Dean? Winchester?" a woman asked, stepping out from behind Sam.

"Yeah." Sam and Dean answered in unison, looking a little puzzled.

"Son of a bitch." she said, looking over to you, your gun still partially raised.

"Mom, you know these people?" Jo asked, looking to her mother.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys." she said lowering her gun, laughing. "And, I'm willing to bet that you're Y/N Singer." she said, looking to you.

"That's right." you said, lowering your gun.

"It's been awhile. You've grown up. How's your daddy?" she asked, Sam and Dean watching her closely.

"Still kicking." you said, Sam and Dean looking between you and the woman, the woman turning her attention back to them.

"I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo." she said, Sam and Dean finally relaxing.

"Hey." Jo said, nodding towards her rifle in Dean's hand.

"You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" Dean asked, passing her the gun.

"No, she's not." you said, giving Jo a look before heading towards the bar.

"Here you go." Ellen said, passing Dean a small towel filled with ice.

"Thanks. You called our Dad, said you could help. Help with what?" Dean asked, grimacing as he held the towel to his nose.

"Well, the demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it." Ellen explained, Dean eyeing her.

"What, was there an article in Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who...who are you? How do you know about all this?" Dean asked, Ellen looking to you.

"You'll have to excuse him." you said, Dean's head whipping to face you, Ellen chuckling.

"Hey, I just run a saloon, but hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once." Ellen explained.

"Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you before?" Dean asked, still weary of her.

"You'd have to ask him that." Ellen said, you looking down at the bar.

"So, why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asked, getting back on track.

"Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But, John wouldn't have sent you if..." she said, stopping when you gave her a look, the realization hitting her. "He didn't send you." she said, Dean looking down before glancing over to you and back to Sam. "He's all right, isn't he?"

"No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess." Sam said, Ellen shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry." she said, giving both boys a sincere look.

"It's okay. We're all right." Dean quickly said, any mention of John making him uncomfortable.

"Really? I know how close you and your dad were." Ellen said, Dean appearing annoyed.

"Ellen." you said, shaking your head, letting her know to drop it.

"Really, lady, I'm fine." he said, Ellen nodding, realizing that it was a sensitive subject.

"So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get." Sam said, Ellen looking between the three of you.

"Well, we can't. But, Ash will." Ellen said, a smile sliding onto your face.

"Who's Ash?" Sam asked, confused.

"Ash!" Ellen yelled, the man that was passed out jerking away, flailing as he sat up.

"What? It closin' time?" he asked, looking around the bar.

"That's Ash?" Sam asked as you laughed to yourself.

"MM-hmm. He's a genius." Jo said, both Sam and Dean looking over to her.

You and Sam were sitting on either side of Ash, Dean standing behind the three of you while Jo poured glasses of water on the other side of the bar. Ash was busy staring at you. You could tell that he was trying to figure out how he knew you, a brown folder being slapped down on the bar making him flinch, but not deterring his focus.

"I don't think we've met." Ash said, extending his hand to you.

"I gotta say...I'm a little offended." you teased, the wheels turning in Ash's mind.

"Don't be offended. There's no way I could forget a face like that, or a..." Ash said, trailing off as his eyes roamed down your body, Dean clearing his throat.

"You sure about that, Sugar?" you asked, Ash's eyes lighting up.

"Y/N? Y/N Singer?" he asked, you giving him a wink.

"In the flesh." you said, Ash smiling brightly.

"Well, God damn! I knew you were somethin' by the sound of your voice, but it just doesn't do you justice." Ash said, Dean rolling his eyes.

"You've gotta be kidding me. This guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie." Dean said, Ash turning to face him.

"I like you." Ash said, a smile on his face.

"Thanks." Dean said, Jo shaking her head.

"Just give him a chance." Jo said, you nodding.

"He knows his stuff. He's helped me out a few times." you said, Dean looking at you. "Over the phone." you added, Dean coming to sit next to you, moving his stool so that he was basically on top of you before opening the folder.

"All right. This stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work. So, uh, let's see what you make of it." Dean said, Ash pulling out the papers and rifling through them, shaking his head.

"Come on. This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody can track a demon like this." Ash said, looking up at Dean.

"Our Dad could." Sam said, Ash glancing at him before looking back at the papers.

"There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean...damn! They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms...You ever been struck by lightening? It ain't fun." Ash said, rambling.

"Can you track it or not?" Sam asked, Ash cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah, with this...I think so. But, It's gonna take time, uh, give me...fifty one hours." Ash said, getting up to leave.

"Hey, man?" Dean called out, stopping him.

"Yeah." Ash said, turning to face him.

"I, uh, I did the haircut." Dean said, Ash smiling.

"All business up front, party in the back." Ash said, running his hand over his mullet. "Hey Y/N, could you help me with somethin'?"

"Yeah." you said, getting up from your spot, you and Ash walking off as Jo came out from behind the bar.

Dean watched the two of you closely, his brow furrowing as he watched you laugh at something Ash said. Jo made sure to step into his line of sight, giving him a flirty smile as she gestured for him to follow her. Dean took one last look at you before following after her, leaving Sam alone at the bar.

"Hey, Ellen, what is that?" Sam asked, spotting something behind the bar.

"It's a police scanner. We keep tabs on things, we-" Ellen said, Sam cutting her off.

"No, no, no, no, the, um, the folder." Sam said, nodding towards the folder.

"Uh, I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look, if you want." Ellen said, taking the folder from its spot and placing it in front of Sam.

"How did your mom get into this stuff, anyway?" Dean asked, him and Jo sitting by the window.

"From my dad. He was a hunter. He passed away." Jo said, Dean letting out a slow breath.

"I'm sorry." he said, Jo waving it off.

"It was a long time ago. I was just a kid. Sorry to hear about your dad." Jo said, Dean slowly nodding, uncomfortable with the subject.

"Yeah." he said, looking over at you and Ash, Jo following his stare.

"So, I guess you've got fifty one hours to waste. Maybe tonight we should..."she said, trailing off, Dean looking over at her. "What?"

"Nothing, just, uh..."Dean said, looking over at you, Jo nodding.

"Gotcha." she said, watching as he stared at you. "You know, at first I thought you might toss me some cheap pickup line." she said, Dean chuckling. "Most hunters come through that door thinking they can get in my pants with some...pizza, a six pack, and side one of Zeppelin IV." she added, Dean smiling to himself when he remembered you throwing out that exact scenario as a date idea.

"Well...what a bunch of scumbags." Dean said, turning to look at her.

"Not you?" Jo asked, glancing over at you before looking back to Dean.

"Not me." Dean said, giving her a tight lipped smile.

"So, whatcha need?" you asked, Ash stopping to turn and face you.

"Uh, well, I..."Ash said, clearing his throat. "How long are you sticking around?"

"You said you needed fifty one hours, so I'd guess that'd be about it." you said, Ash nodding.

"That's it, huh? Well, that's a damn shame." he said, you raising a brow at him.

"Yeah, why's that?" you asked, Ash wiggling his brows at you causing you to laugh.

"Cause we coulda had a damn good time." Ash said, you smiling before glancing back at Dean, who was talking to Jo. "Don't tell me..." Ash said, looking at Dean.

"Yep." you said, Ash sighing.

"Just my luck." he said, you laughing under your breath. "You know he doesn't look so tough. Maybe I could take him." he joked, you laughing again. "Well, uh, that ever goes south, you know who to call."

"You'll be the first one I call." you said, both you and Ash laughing.

"Hey guys, come here." Sam called out. "Check this out." he added, both you and Dean walking back to the bar.

"Yeah." you said, Sam looking up at you.

"A few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt." Sam said, looking between the two of you.

"Yeah, so?" Dean said, shrugging his shoulders.

"So, I told her we'd check it out." Sam said as he gathered all of the papers back into the folder and stood up.

The three of you were back in the minivan, Dean driving, Sam in the passenger seat, you leaning up from the backseat. The rain was coming down hard, forcing the three of you to speak louder than normal.

"You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?" Dean asked, Sam still looking at the research in his lap.

"Well, you just gotta be shittin' bricks right about now." you said, Sam shooting you a dirty look.

"He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually." Sam explained.

"And this family was at some carnival that night?" Dean asked, Sam nodding.

"Right, right. The, uh, Cooper Carnival." Sam said, flipping through some of the papers.

"Okay, but how do you know that we're not just dealing with some fuckin' psycho carnie in a clown suit?" you asked, Sam turning in his seat to face you.

"Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop. Alibis all around. Plus, this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course." Sam explained, Dean looking over at him.

"Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?" Dean said, not hearing your earlier remark.

"Oh, give me a break." Sam said, rolling his eyes, both you and Dean laughing.

"You didn't think we'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still bust out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television." Dean teased, Sam scoffing.

"Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying." Sam said, Dean's eyes going wide.

"Planes crash!" he fired back, Sam turning to you.

"Or small spaces." Sam said, you rolling your eyes.

"Oh, you can fuck right off, Sam. MIne is a much more realistic fear, and you know it.  I mean, what the fuck is so scary about a clown?" you asked, Sam shaking his head.

"Well, apparently clowns kill, Y/N." Sam said, Dean speaking up before the two of you got into a ridiculous argument.

"So, these type of murders, they ever happen before?" Dean asked, Sam looking down at the file.

"Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O.. It happened three times, three different locales." Sam explained, Dean shaking his head.

"It's weird, though. I mean, if it's a spirit it's usually bound to a specific locale. You know, a house, or a town." Dean said, Sam looking to him.

"So, how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?" Sam asked.

"Cursed object, maybe." you said, Dean nodding.

"Yeah, spirit attaches itself to something and the, uh, carnival carries it around with them." Dean said, Sam sighing.

"Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt." Sam said, closing the file in his lap.

"Tell me about it." you said, leaning back in your seat.

"Well, this case was your idea." Dean said, glancing over to Sam. "By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

"So?" Sam said, shrugging his shoulders.

"It's just...not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell bent for leather on the demon hunt." Dean said, you leaning back up, expecting a fight.

"I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do." Sam said, you looking between the two of them, gauging the situation.

"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean asked, you looking over to him.

"De." you warned, giving him a look.

"Yeah, so?" Sam asked, Dean glancing at you before turning his attention back to the road.

"Nothin'." Dean clipped out, you leaning into your seat with a sigh.

The minivan squeaked to a stop outside of the carnival, and the three of you climbed out. You leaned against the side of the van, watching as what appeared to be detectives talked to some of the carnies.

"Check it out, Five-oh." Dean said, nodding his head in their direction.

"You got it?" you asked, Dean nodding before walking off towards the carnies, trying to get what facts he could.

Both you and Sam ventured closer to the carnival grounds, Sam shoving his hands in his pockets as the two of you subtly looked around. You turned your head just in time to see a woman, who was about three feet tall, in a clown outfit approaching. You looked up at Sam and tried to hide your smile. He was staring at her nervously as she walked by, his posture rigid as he tried to keep his cool.

"Did you get her number?" Dean asked as he approached the two of you, Sam scowling at the question.

"More murders?" Sam asked, Dean nodding.

"Two more last night. Apparently, they were ripped to shreds, and they had a little boy with them." Dean explained, both you and Sam listening closely.

"Who fingered a clown." Sam said, you snorting out a laugh, Dean pausing and giving him a weird look.

"Sounds pretty kinky if you ask me." you said, not able to keep a straight face, Sam giving you a completely done look, Dean chuckling.

"Really, Y/N?" Sam asked, you shrugging your shoulders.

"What? You said it." you said, Dean shaking his head, trying not to smile.

"Alright, back on track." Dean said, Sam looking at him to continue. "Yeah, the kid saw a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air."

"Guys, you know, looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything." Sam said, you sighing.

"And we don't even fuckin' know if that's what we're dealing with for sure." you said, Sam nodding in agreement.

"Well, if it's a cursed object then, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything." Dean said, Sam giving him a look.

"Oh, good, that's nice and...inconspicuous." Sam sarcastically said, you looking over to him.

"You got a better idea?" you asked, Dean spotting something nearby.

"I guess we'll just have to blend in." Dean said, nodding his head towards a "Help Wanted" sign.

"Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?" Dean asked, the three of you stepping into the tent of a man throwing knives at a target, all the knives landing near but not quite on the bullseye.

"What is that, some kind of joke?" the man asked, pulling off his sunglasses to reveal that he was blind.

"Oh, God, I'm, I'm sorry." Dean said, embarrassed by his blunder.

"You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?" the man asked, Dean looking to you and Sam for help.

"Wanna give me a little help here?" Dean quietly asked the two of you.

"Not really." Sam said, you quickly jumping in.

"You're doin' great." you said, giving him the okay signal with your hand.

"Hey man, is there a problem?" someone asked, Dean turning, then looking down to see an extremely short man in a red cape.

"Yeah, this guy hates blind people." the blind man said, Dean shaking his head.

"No, I don't. I-" Dean tried to explain, the short man cutting him off.

"Hey buddy, what's your problem?" he asked, looking up at Dean.

"Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding." Dean said, you grabbing onto his arm, catching his mistake.

"Little?! You son of a bitch!" the short man yelled, Dean's eyes going wide.

"No, no, no, no! I'm just, could somebody tell me where Mr. Cooper is?" Dean asked, both you and Sam laughing. "Please?"

"You kids picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat." Mr. Cooper said as the three of you walked into his office. "Sorry about the lack of chairs."

"No problem." you said, giving him a friendly smile, Dean looking at the available chairs.

One of the chairs was normal, the other was pink with a giant clown face on it. Dean quickly beat Sam to the normal chair, and pulled you so that you basically fell into his lap. Sam scowled, and fidgeted before sitting gingerly in the clown chair, giving you and Dean one final dirty look before composing himself.

"We've got all kinds of local trouble." Mr. Cooper said once the three of you had settled.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, you shifting so that he could see Mr. Cooper.

"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first. So, you three ever worked the circuit before?" Mr. Cooper asked, looking between the three of you.

"Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas." Sam said, both you and Dean nodding.

"Yeah." the two of you said in unison.

"Doing what? Ride jockeys? Butcher? ANS Men?" Mr. Cooper asked before turning to you. "Surely they had a looker like you doin' something special."

"Oh yeah, I....they always saved me for the good stuff." you said, Sam quickly jumping in.

"Yeah, it's, uh, little bit of everything, I guess." Sam said, Mr. Cooper studying the three of you closely.

"You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?" Cooper asked, you letting out a slow breath.

"Nope. But we really need the work. Oh, and uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady." Dean joked, Sam shooting him a look.

"You see that picture? That's my daddy." Mr. Cooper said, pointing out an old black and white photo.

"You look just like him." Sam said, you looking at the photo a little longer before turning to Mr. Cooper.

"You really do." you said, thinking that they looked like the same person.

"He was in the business. Ran a freakshow. Till they outlawed them, most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So, most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess. You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been, for folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But, you three? You should go to school. Find a partner, have 2.5 kids. Live regular." Mr. Cooper said, Dean opening his mouth to speak, Sam leaning forward, his eyes serious.

"Sir, we don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this." Sam said, both you and Dean looking at him a little shocked.

"Huh." Dean said, once the three of you had walked out of Mr. Cooper's office.

"What?" Sam asked, Dean pausing a moment before speaking.

"That whole, uh, I don't want to go back to school thing. Were you just saying that to Cooper or were you, you know, saying it?" Dean asked, both you and him watching Sam closely.

"Sam?" you asked, when he didn't answer.

"I don't know." Sam said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You don't know? I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State. You know, leave all the work to me and Singer." Dean said, you elbowing him.

"I'm having second thoughts." Sam said, shocking you a little.

"Really?" you asked, Sam nodding.

"Yeah. I think...Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job." Sam said, Dean giving him a look.

"Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted? You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam." Dean said, you whipping to face him.

"Dean!" you barked, Dean looking down at you.

"What? You know it's true." Dean said, you shaking your head.

"Since he died, okay? Do you have a problem with that?" Sam asked, looking at Dean, Dean finally turning to face him.

"Naw, I don't have a problem at all." Dean said, shaking his head as he walked off.

Sam, clad in a red "Cooper Carnival" jacket was picking up trash while surreptitiously scanning with the EMF meter. He walked up to the fun house and looked around before walking inside, still scanning. Suddenly, a skeleton fell from the ceiling, and Sam scanned it. The EMF meter didn't react, but Sam did get an idea.

Dean was wearing a similar red uniform jacket and picking up trash to put in the dumpster when his cell phone rang.

"Hello." Dean said.

"Hey, man." Sam said, Dean still looking around for trash.

"What's the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown." Dean teased, Sam huffing out a breath.

"Very funny. Skeleton, actually." Sam said.

"Like a real human skeleton?" Dean asked, thinking that it could be what the three of you were searching for.

"In the fun house. Listen, I was thinking. What if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object? What if it's attached to its own remains?" Sam asked, on the same page as Dean.

"Did the bones give off EMF?" Dean asked.

"Well, no, but-" Sam started, Dean cutting him off.

"We should check it out anyway. I'm gonna grab Singer, then we'll head to you." Dean said, hanging up the phone, the blind man from earlier grabbing his arm.

"What are you doing here, kid?" the blind man asked, Dean thrown off by his sudden appearance.

"I'm...I was just sweeping." Dean said, the blind man not convinced.

"Bull. And, what were you talking about? Skeletons? What's EMF?" the blind man asked, rattling off rapid fire questions.

"Dude, your blind man hearing is out of control." Dean said, shocked that he overheard everything.

"We're a tight knit group. We don't like outsiders. We take care of our own problems." the blind man said, a little threateningly.

"We got a problem?" Dean asked, watching the man closely.

"You tell me. You're the one talking about human bones." the blind man said, Dean racing to come up with an explanation.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Dean blurted out.

"What?" the blind man asked, thrown off by the question.

"My brother, my girlfriend, and me...umm. We're writing a book about them." Dean said before quickly excusing himself to find you.

Dean had tried calling your phone a couple of times, each call going straight to voicemail. He walked around the grounds until he came upon the Strongman's tent. Mr. Cooper had given you the job of his assistant, and Dean could tell that the two of you were in the middle of a show, the crowd's applause and cheering ringing out from the tent.

Dean stepped through the opening and stood at the back of the crowd, watching as you walked around the strongman, showcasing him like a model would a prize on The Price is Right. This was the strongman's act, but Dean couldn't help but notice that most eyes were on you.

You always did have a habit of turning heads, but the skin tight, barely there crop top and skimpy shorts that left little to the audience's imagination certainly wasn't helping. Dean shrugged off his red jacket, dead set on covering you up the second you were off stage, and watched as the strongman prepared for the final act of the show.

Dean watched the strongman get down on one knee in the center of the stage, and hold out a hand to you. You circled around him before coming to a stop at his side, facing towards the crowd. The strongman turned the hand closest to you palm side up, his arm bent at the elbow, and you eased yourself down until you were sitting on his hand. With one fluid motion the strongman stood up, using his free hand to hold onto your hand to help balance you. With a nod of his head the strongman fully extended his arms, and the crowd went wild as he balanced you above his head.

Even though you had a bright smile plastered on your face Dean could tell that you were about two seconds away from losing your cool. Dean tossed his jacket on the back of one of the empty chairs and pushed his way to the stage, the corner of his mouth turning up when he saw how relieved you were to see him.

"Ivan, down." you said, the strongman looking up at you. "Pryamo seychas, mudak." you spat, Dean looking at you in confusion as Ivan quickly put you down.

As soon as your feet hit the stage you were whipping around to face Ivan, who was backing up with his hands up. Dean quickly jumped up on the stage and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you back towards him.

"Come on, Singer." Dean said as you struggled in his hold.

"No, no, no. That fucker has it comin'. Not only did I have to deal with his fuckin' hand up my God damn ass all day, but my gloves weren't worthy of the costume." you said, Dean walking you back to the edge of the stage. "I could hear everything. He's lucky most of it was in Russian, or I probably would have bashed his God damn brains in." you added, Dean huffing out a laugh.

"Want me to go knock the guy on his ass?" Dean asked, still holding onto you, your fists clenched to keep from touching him.

"All I'm gonna say is that if you don't get me outta here we're gonna have another body on our hands." you said, Dean releasing you before walking down the steps.

"Let's go then. Sam thinks he may have something." Dean said as the two of you walked to the back of the tent, Dean grabbing his discarded jacket off the back of the chair and draping it over your shoulders.

"What'd you say back there, anyway?" Dean asked as the two of you walked out of the tent.

"Called him an asshole." you said, pulling the jacket closed around you.

"You speak Russian?" Dean asked, one brow raised.

"I picked up a few words from dumb ass back there, but I'm pretty fluent in curse words in most languages." you said, Dean chuckling as the two of you walked to meet Sam.

"What took you guys so long?" Sam asked, looking between you and Dean.

"You don't wanna know." you sighed, Dean nodding.

"Yeah, long story." Dean said, Sam shaking his head in frustration.

"Mommy, look at that clown!" a little girl shouted, the three of you looking over to see a little girl pointing at nothing.

"What clown?" the child's mother asked. "Come on sweetie, Come on." she said before pulling the little girl away, the three of you sharing a look, knowing that you had the next targets.

"I cannot believe the two of you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown." Sam said, the three of you on stakeout outside the family from the carnivals home.

"It's not like we sought him out. We bumped into him on our way to meet you, and he started asking questions. We had to tell him something." you said, leaning up from the backseat.

"And that's what you came up with?" Sam asked, you rolling your eyes.

"Look, we told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. We never said it was real." Dean said as he pulled out his gun and cocked it, Sam grabbing at it, pushing Dean's hands down.

"Keep that down!" Sam scolded, afraid that someone would see.

"Relax, nobody can fuckin' see anything." you said, Dean speaking up before Sam could say anything to you.

"Oh, and get this. We mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their uh, evil clown apocalypse. Guess what." Dean said, Sam paying close attention.

"What?" Sam asked, anxious for Dean to continue.

"Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager." you explained, Sam nodding.

"So, you think whatever the spirit's attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?" Sam asked, you shrugging your shoulders.

"Something like that. It's the best we could come up with for now." you said, Dean shaking his head and sighing.

"I can't believe we keep talking about clowns." he said, you laughing under your breath as you leaned back in your seat, Dean closing his eyes.

Dean was dozing in the front seat when a light flicked on in the family's dining room, both you and Sam jumping to attention. Sam quickly shook Dean awake while you opened the bag next to you and started pulling out weapons. The three of you quickly exited the vehicle and rushed to the house, dead set on getting inside before the spirit did.

The three of you were hiding in wait, weapons at the ready as the little girl started to lead the clown down the hallway, "Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs." the little girl said, Sam leaping out and grabbing the girl, who started to scream.

Dean fired off a shot and hit the clown in the chest, the clown falling on it's back. You held your gun on him and quickly fired off another shot when he started to get back up.

"What the fuck?" you asked, the clown getting to his feet as both you and Dean tried to rack in another round.

"Sam, watch out!" Dean yelled, the clown leaping out the window, turning invisible as it ran away, the girl's parents rushing into the room.

"What's going on here? Get away from my-" the girl's father started, the mother quickly jumping in.

"Oh my God! What are you doing to my daughter?!" the mother asked, a horrified look on her face.

"Who the hell are you? Get out! Get out of my house!" the father yelled, the three of you running away as fast as you possibly could.

Dean pulled the minivan off the side of the road and put it in park. The three of you climbed out and started to dig out all of your belongings, Dean stopping to take the license plates as well.

"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam asked, watching as Dean tucked the plates into his bag.

"Not worth the chance." you said, hitching your bag up on your shoulder, Dean nodding in agreement.

"Besides, I hate this fuckin' thing anyway." Dean said, the three of you starting to walk down the road. "Well, one thing's for sure."

"What's that?" Sam asked, looking over to Dean.

"We're not dealing with a spirit." Dean said, you nodding.

"Yeah, that rock salt hit something fuckin' solid." you said, Sam looking to you.

"Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?" Sam asked, you shrugging your shoulders.

"Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks? Did it say anything in Dad's journal?" Dean asked, Sam shaking his head.

"Nope." Sam replied, clearing his throat and pulling out his phone.

"Who are you calling?" Dean asked, nodding towards Sam's phone.

"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know something." Sam said.

"They'll definitely be able to narrow it down and give us a direction to go in." you said, Sam pausing in the middle of dialing the number.

"Hey, you guys think, uh, you guys think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?" Sam asked, looking between you and Dean.

"No way." Dean said, shaking his head.

"Then, why didn't he tell us about her?" Sam asked.

"I don't think it's that big of a deal. I mean, I knew her and never said anything. It just never came up. You don't gotta tell people every single fucking person you know." you said, Sam shaking his head.

"But, she said he was like family once. I just think it's a little weird that he never mentioned her." Sam said.

"I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out." Dean said, Sam looking down at his feet.

"Yeah, you guys ever notice that Dad had a falling out with just about everybody? I mean, look at him and Bobby." Sam said, looking to you.

"I don't have anything to say about that." you said, Sam looking to Dean.

"Can't you see it?" Sam asked, Dean nodding casually, Sam lowering the phone. "Well, don't get all Maudlin on me, man."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, you knowing that a fight was bound to break out.

"Sam." you warned, Sam waving you off.

"No, no. You both need to hear this. This strong, silent thing the two of you are doing is crap." Sam said, Dean shaking his head.

"Oh, God!" Dean sighed, you preparing to break the two of them up.

"I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about." Sam said, looking at Dean. "This is Dad. I know how you felt about the man."

"You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to." Dean fired back, you stepping between them.

"We're not gonna do this right now." you said, Sam completely ignoring you.

"No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man, both of you. Drinking yourselves stupid doesn't count. Listen, I'm your brother, all right?" Sam said before looking to you. "Y/N, you're like my sister, and I know that you are going through things right now, too. I just want to make sure that you guys are okay."

"Sam, I'm fine." you said, Sam sighing before looking to Dean.

"Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. I don't understand why you have to keep pushing. I mean, fuck, it's like the only peace I can get is when I'm working on the car, or when I'm with Singer. She gets it, man. Why can't you? These are your issues, quit dumping them on us." Dean said, you ready to jump in.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, Dean looking down at his feet, pausing a moment before making eye contact with Sam.

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you...you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him. And, now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you can't, it's too little, too late." Dean said, you putting your hand on his chest to stop him.

"Why are you saying this to me?" Sam asked, you shaking your head.

"Don't. Enough is enough." you said, trying to protect Sam, Dean looking down at you before looking to Sam.

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?"Dean asked, you pushing against his chest.

"God fucking damn it! I said that was enough. He got the fuckin' point." you said, Sam swallowing loudly, looking upset.

"I'm going to go call Ellen." Sam quietly said before walking ahead of you and Dean.

You and Dean caught up to Sam a little further down the road, neither one of you saying anything to each other about the blow up. Both of you kept a bit of distance from Sam and listened as he finished his conversation.

"Thanks a lot." Sam said before hanging up the phone and turning to you and Dean. "Rakshasa."

"What's that?" Dean asked, you thinking back to where you'd heard the name before.

"Ellen's best guess." Sam started, you interrupting.

"Rakshasa. That's Hindu, isn't it?" you asked, Sam looking to you.

"Yeah, it's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, and they feed on human flesh. They can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited." Sam explained, looking between you and Dean.

"So, they dress up like clowns, and the children invite 'em in." Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam said, you nodding.

"That's pretty fuckin' smart." you said, both boys agreeing.

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?" Dean asked, Sam shrugging.

"No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?" Sam suggested.

"What else'd you find out?" Dean asked.

"Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. The sleep on a bed of dead insects." Sam said, you wrinkling your nose.

"Nice." Dean sighed, Sam nodding.

"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years." Sam said, you jumping in.

"Slow metabolism, I guess." you said, Sam huffing out a breath.

"Well, that makes sense. I mean, the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81." Dean said, Sam looking over to him.

"Right. Probably more before that." Sam said, you taking a few steps ahead of them before turning around to face them, continuing to walk backwards.

"Well boys, who do we know that worked both shows?" you asked, Sam and Dean sharing a look.

"Cooper?" Sam asked, Dean quickly speaking up.

"Cooper." Dean said, you nodding.

"You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him." Sam said, you falling back in line with them.

"You think maybe it was him?" Dean asked.

"That's what I would bet on." you said, looking over at him.

"Yeah, who knows how old he is." Sam said, the three of you quiet for a moment.

"Ellen say how to kill him?" Dean asked, you speaking up before Sam could answer.

"Some kind of blade I think. I've read about it before, but I can't fuckin' remember." you said before looking to Sam.

"Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass." Sam said.

"I think I know where to get one of those." Dean said, Sam stopping the two of you.

"Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure it's him." Sam said, a serious expression on his face as he looked between you and Dean.

"Come on, Sam." you sighed. "Where's the fun in that?" you teased.

"You're such a stickler for details, Sammy." Dean said, the three of you smiling at each other. "All right, me and Singer will round up the blade, you go check if Cooper's got bedbugs."

Once the three of you were back on the carnival grounds Sam split away from you and Dean. He headed towards Cooper's trailer while you and Dean went to go find the blind man.

"Well, I've got all kinds of knives. I don't know if I've got a brass one, though." the blind man said, leading you and Dean into his trailer.

Sam picked the lock on Cooper's trailer and eased open the door. He stepped inside and quickly looked around, pulling out his pocket knife once he spotted the small bed. Sam walked over and started to slice through the mattress, looking for any evidence of dead insects. Suddenly, Sam heard a gun cock from behind him, and he instantly froze.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mr. Cooper asked, pointing his gun at Sam.

The blind man let you and Dean into his trailer and tapped a trunk with his cane, "Check the trunk." he said, Dean bending down to open the trunk, both of you spotting the red clown wig.

"Well, fuck me." you whispered, Dean standing back up.

"You?" he asked, the blind man dropping his cane before pulling off his glasses.

"Me." he said, his eyes going cloudy, his face beginning to melt as he waved, his face then disappearing Cheshire Cat style, his glowing eyes the last thing you saw.

Dean grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you towards the door. He started to struggle with the door, a knife flying past his head to bury into the door. You quickly pulled off a glove and held up your hand as Dean jumped back, another knife landing with a thunk a little higher.

"All right!" Dean yelled, you releasing the ball of light in the direction the knives came from, unsure if you even hit him.

"We need to fuckin' move." you said, looking back over your shoulder at him, Dean finally managing to get the door open.

"Hey!" Sam shouted, seeing the two of you tumble out of the trailer.

"Hey." Dean said, making sure that you were by his side.

"So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him." Sam said, looking between you and Dean.

"Yeah, no shit." you said, looking behind you, Dean quickly jumping in.

"Yeah, we gathered that. It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere." Dean said, the two of you looking around.

"Well, did you guys get the-" Sam started to ask, Dean interrupting.

"The brass blades? No." Dean said, Sam looking to you.

"We were a little busy trying not to become fuckin' pin cushions. Asshole started throwin' fuckin' knives after he went all Invisible Man on us." you said, Dean nodding.

"Yeah, it's just been one of those days." he said, Sam pausing to think a moment.

"I got an idea. Come on." Sam said, leading the two of you towards the fun house.

The three of you entered the fun house, a door slamming down as you went through. Dean was on one side while you and Sam were on the other, both of them struggling to open the door.

"Sam! Singer!" Dean yelled, still trying to open the door.

"De, you okay?" you asked as Sam stopped trying.

"Dean, find the maze!" Sam instructed before pulling you along after him.

Sam stopped in front of a pipe organ, the organ giving off steam. He reached for one of the pipes, quickly pulling his hand back as he grimaced from the heat.

"Here." you said, grabbing onto the pipe with your gloved hands, trying to pull it down.

Sam stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a bandanna before wrapping it around his hand, He grabbed onto the pipe and helped you pull, the pipe snapping free just as Dean came around the corner.

"Hey." Dean said, you pulling off your gloves as Sam took the pipe in his hands.

"Hey! Where is it?" Sam asked, looking frantically around.

"I don't know. I mean, shouldn't we see it's clothes walking around?"Dean asked, you shaking your head.

"We didn't see them in the trailer." you said, a knife flying past, pinning Dean's sleeve to the wall, another one zooming by to pin his wrist.

"Guys!" Dean yelled, Sam stalking forward slowly, a knife flying past his head.

"Where is he?" Sam asked, you trying to free Dean.

"I don't know!" Dean shouted, reaching up with his free hand and pulling a lever, more steam pouring from the pipe organ, giving a vague shape to the invisible attacker.

"Sam, behind you!" you yelled, Sam stabbing the pipe behind him without looking.

Sam turned to see the pipe buried in the still invisible creature, blood pouring from the wound. You and Dean finally managed to get him free, and the two of you turned to see only empty clothes and a bloody pipe.

"I hate fun houses." Dean breathed out, turning to look at you.

"Yeah." you said, letting out a slow breath.

Sam and Dean were sitting at the bar back at the Roadhouse as Ellen placed a couple of beers in front of them.

"You boys did a hell of a job. Your dad'd be proud." Ellen said before quickly surveying the room.

"Thanks." Sam said, Ellen turning her attention back to them.

"Y/N not with you?" she asked, Dean taking a swig of his beer.

"Said she had to talk to Ash about something." Dean said, Jo sitting on the other side of him, giving Sam a look.

"Oh yeah, um, I've gotta...uh, uh, I've gotta go. Over there. Right now." Sam said, quickly getting to his feet, stopping by Jo and leaning down to whisper in her ear. "I'd be careful if I were you." he said, knowing how temperamental you could be.

"So." Jo said, clearing her throat, completely disregarding Sam's warning.

"So." Dean said before taking another drink, knowing what she was going to say.

"Am I gonna see you again?" she asked, Dean looking straight ahead.

"I, uh, I don't know." Dean said, Jo leaning towards him.

"I wouldn't hate it, you know." she said, Dean taking a deep breath.

"Hmm. Can I be honest with you? See, in the past I'd be hitting on you so fast it'd make your head spin. But, uh, these days..." Dean said, trailing off when he saw you walk in from the back room.

"Wrong place, wrong time?" Jo asked, nodding towards you.

"There's no way I'm gonna mess that up." Dean said, Jo nodding.

"It's okay, I get it." she said, Ash walking out the same door you did, carrying the folder and a bizarre looking laptop.

"Where you guys been? Been waitin' for ya." Ash said, Ellen passing you a beer as you sat down at the bar.

"We were workin' a job, Ash. Clowns." Sam said, Ash raising a brow.

"Clowns? What the-" Ash started to ask, Dean cutting him off.

"You got something for us, Ash?" Dean asked, Ash setting the laptop down, the exposed wiring making it look homemade.

"Hey, Ellen, can I get something a little stronger?" you asked, the corner of Ellen's mouth turning up.

"What can I getcha?" she asked, you pushing your beer aside.

"Johnnie Walker." you said, Ellen turning around. "Make it a double." you added, Dean giving you a worried look.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked, Ash shaking his head.

"It's nowhere around. At least, nowhere I can find. But, if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like Divine on dog dookie." Ash said, you laughing under your breath.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, needing a better explanation.

"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig'll go off. Like a fire alarm." Ash explained, Dean reaching for the laptop.

"Do you mind..."Dean started to ask, trailing off when Ash gave him a look, pulling his hand back from the keyboard. "Yeah."

"What's up, man?" Ash asked, Sam staring at the laptop.

"Ash, where did you learn to do all of this?" Sam asked, Ash shrugging.

"M.I.T.. Before I got bounced for fighting." Ash answered, Sam reeling back.

"M.I.T.?" Sam asked, a little shocked.

"It's a school in Boston." Ash said, like it wasn't a big deal.

"Okay. Give us a call as soon as you know something." Dean said, Ash nodding.

"Si, si, compadre." Ash said, Dean taking another sip of his beer before sitting it down and getting to his feet.

"Singer?" Dean said as him and Sam headed for the door, you downing the rest of your drink before standing up.

"Hey, listen...if you kids need a place to stay I've got a couple beds out back." Ellen said, you whispering something to Ash before joining Sam and Dean.

"Thanks, but no. There's something I gotta finish." Dean said, tossing his arm over your shoulders.

"Okay." Ellen said, giving the three of you a smile before you walked out the door.

The three of you had made it back to Bobby's, Sam and Dean were outside, and you were sitting at the kitchen table nursing a tumbler of whiskey.

"Mind if I join ya?" Bobby asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"Don't ya think you're a little a long in the tooth to be drinkin' at this time of day?" you asked, Bobby huffing out a laugh.

"D'ya just sit around and think of ways to be a smart ass?" Bobby asked, grabbing a glass before sitting down across from you.

"Nope. I don't even have to think about it. It's just a natural talent." you shot back, sliding the bottle to him.

"What'd Ellen have to say?" Bobby asked, pouring himself a drink.

"She offered to help with the demon. Long story short, Ash is tracking it. He said if any signs pop up, he'll know." you said, Bobby nodding, the two of you slipping into silence. "You, uh...you said that I knew things when I was little." you finally said, Bobby looking up at you.

"Yeah." he said, trying to prepare himself for another fight.

"Well, what happened? I mean, I don't remember any of that, and all of....this." you said, holding up your hands, "didn't start until...well, it wasn't happening back then."

"I wish I had a solid answer for you, Kid. It all just kind of stopped out of nowhere. I...I can't explain it." Bobby said, you shaking your head. "Look, I'd give anything to be able to tell you-" he started, you interrupting.

"You can't tell me what you don't know." you said before picking up your drink and finishing it.

"I'm gonna do some diggin', see if I can find anything." Bobby said, watching you closely.

"Yeah, okay." you said, thinking about whether you should tell him what you and Ash talked about. "I, uh, I asked Ash for help." you finally said, a worried expression sliding onto Bobby's face.

"Kid, you can't...if the wrong person-" Bobby started, you interrupting.

"I didn't tell him anything like that. I just asked him if he could find my-" you said, stopping short. "I just asked if he could try to track him down. I only gave him his name. That's it."

"It's not safe. It's just gonna open a whole new can of worms, and-" Bobby tried to say, you cutting him off.

"Pretty sure the can's already been opened." you said, Bobby shaking his head.

"There are people out there, hunters, that aren't gonna read between the lines. There isn't going to be any gray areas with them. It's black or it's white. Kid, I'm not going to be able to keep you safe." Bobby said, you standing up from the table.

"My entire life has been a lie. I...I don't even know who I am anymore. I know that the truth probably isn't going to be pretty. It never is, but I think I deserve to know what it is. Dad." you said, Bobby looking up at you with teary eyes. "You can't hover over me my entire life. You gotta let me make my own way, and trust that I can handle myself."

"I know. It's just-" Bobby said, looking away from you, not able to finish his thought. "What if you find him, and..."

"Like you said, you may not have made me, but YOU are my father. I'm a Singer, and I'm not lookin' to fuckin' change that." you said, Bobby looking a bit relieved. "I...I just need to know-"

"I know." Bobby said, standing up from his seat. "Just promise me that you'll take care of yourself, and that you'll call if you ever need anything." he said, you walking over to him.

"I will." you said before wrapping your arms around him. "I just want to say this real quick, and them I'm gonna knock it the fuck off because it's gettin' a little too God damn mushy." you said before taking a deep breath. "I couldn't have picked a better man to be my father. I love you, Old Man."

"I love ya, Kid." Bobby said, kissing the top of your head, the two of you holding tightly to each other. "Now." Bobby said, clearing his throat. "You better go check on those idjits."

"Yeah." you said, holding on a second longer before stepping back , the two of you sharing one final look before you left the room.

"You were right." Sam said, Dean busy working on the Impala while Sam paced nearby.

"About what?" Dean asked, not looking up.

"About me and Dad. I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. So, you're right. What I'm doing now, it's too little. It's too late." Sam said, pausing a beat, his bottom lip trembling. "I miss him, man. And, I feel guilty as hell. And...I'm not all right. Not at all." he said, tears in his eyes. "But, neither are you. That much I know." he said, pausing. "I'll let you get back to work." he added before walking away.

Dean was still for a moment, all of Sam's words sinking in. He picked up a crowbar before walking to a nearby car and smashing out the window. He looked down at the crowbar in his hand before walking back to the Impala and slamming it into the trunk. He couldn't stop after that first hit. He just kept slamming the crowbar down, over and over, letting out all of the frustration and anger that he had been bottling up.

Dean finally took a step back, his shoulders slumping as he let the crowbar clatter to the ground. He looked back over his shoulder, expecting to see Sam standing there, his lip starting to tremble when he saw you standing where Sam had been. He quickly looked away, keeping his back to you as he tried to compose himself.

Things had been a little awkward between the two of you, both of you preferring to just skirt around everything. It was easier than talking about it. It was easier than having to face the truth. Vulnerability wasn't easy for either one of you, and you knew that in that moment Dean was feeling completely exposed. All of the feelings and emotions that he had been trying to bury deep down finally worked their way to the surface.

That was always the problem with holding everything in. You become a powder keg, a ticking time bomb, and you explode eventually. Then, you are bare. Every flaw, every weakness is on display for everyone to see, and you are left there trying to pick up the pieces of your own self destruction.

You knew that he probably wanted to be alone, to hide away until he could build that walk back up. You would want the same thing, but you couldn't let him be alone. You needed to let him know that you were there to help him pick up the pieces. So, without thinking anymore about it, you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him from behind. You pressed yourself tightly to him, one hand coming up to rest over his heart.

Dean stood there completely stiff for a moment, struggling internally, trying his best not to break. You didn't say anything. It wasn't time for words yet. You just held onto him tightly, your cheek resting against his back. You finally felt him relax, his shoulders starting to shake.

"I'm right here." you softly said, Dean's hand coming up to rest over yours.

"S-Singer, I...I don't know what to do. I'm...lost." he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I know, De. I know." you said, pausing a moment. "But, I'm right here, okay? When you feel like you can't count on anything else, you can fuckin' count on that." you said, Dean squeezing onto your hand. "I'm not gonna tell you that I know what to do, or that I have any answers because I don't. But, I will tell you that I'll be here every step of the fuckin' way." you added, Dean silent for a moment.

"You and me." he finally said, you taking a deep breath.

"You and me." you repeated, those three words saying everything that needed to be said.

A/N: Hey guys, I just want to apologize for the delay again. I also want you all to know just how much I appreciate each and every one of you. All of the kind words and love I have received mean the world to me. <3 <3

Tags:  @for-a-brothers-love @slytherinrising @miraclesoflove@22sarah08 @deans-baby-momma @spnae @karikatz12481@spngirl05 @winchester-fantasies @freddiemermaytaydeac@rainbowkisses31 @in-deans-arms @scentedhoundshepherdmoney@teamfreewillisbae @it-could-go-off@moonlight-on-her-skin@channy4eva @monkeymcpoopoo @dean-is-my-superhero@sherlock44 @becs-bunker @that-was-scary@kissmyacdc @dean-is-a-cutie @that-was-scary @cra-zy-vib-es1999 @a-little-bit-of-everythin @a-fangirl-stuff@imsuperawkward@dean-is-my-favorite@ilovetoread44 @xcastielbabyangelface@frederikkeborup@saaamsayshi @irelandsharpie@literallytrashhhhhh @satanic-bastard @deanw-is-pretty @satans-0-spawn @deanwanddamons@womanizerbucky@lieutenantdanielle @dean-is-a-cutie@kissmyacdc @spnbaby-67@celestial-kanzakii @neerness @to-have-deans-love @be-with-me-for-evermore@artemisandromedaathena-blog @rach5ive@lynnehmr @lunalunnel@delicatediplomatsaladlight@imsuperawkward @alanegaming@team-free-will-you-idjiot @supersassyprobablysad @deanwinchestersmydaddy @newheart97 @dhawandyke @castiel-has-bees @akshi8278 @greenarrowhead @waywardson2020​ @sammypotato67​ @idksupernatural​ @all-will-be-well-love​ @dream-believe-and-love​ @leahhh-marieee

#supernatural reader insert #spn series rewrite #series rewrite #season two #reader insert #dean winchester #dean #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #SPN #spn fic #Sam Winchester

[fallenandthefaithless]

SPN 15x04

So where do I even begin with such an amazing episode? Perez offered us a brilliant episode full of meta moments and lots of empty spaces that all begin to point towards the end of the road, or at least suggestions of it.

I’ve put this under a keep reading because it got much longer than I anticipated. Ooops.

First off, Sam. Oh Sam. That was a horrifying nightmare and no wonder he seems despondent throughout the episode until the end. All those losses are weighing on him and then, in the time where he is supposed to find some peace he instead is greeted by visions of dead bodies filling their home and ending in Dean’s own death and Sam’s return to the monstrous. That’s enough to fuck anyone up. I found it interesting that Sam was the one reaching out to the vice principal and talking Billy’s parents down by himself. He has no patience left and calls the parents out on their selfish attitude in the face of a childs death. And that is something that this season hasn’t given much space to yet; Sam’s grief over Jack. So far we have only glimpsed Dean’s grief and, most clearly, Cas’ grief.

Sam goes on to mention how other people get a chance to live a normal life. His attitude with this idea is juxtaposed with Dean’s who thinks that at least other people get that chance because of what the Winchesters do. Sam is struggling to hold on to the sense of purpose he used to have. He used to be certain that what they did mattered because of the people they saved (12x18). But now, having lost Jack , Mary and Rowena, he is reeling and believes that its not fair that they have to be the ones always fighting to save regular people while continually losing the people that they care about. This is Sam’s rock bottom and it is highlighted through two callbacks. 

The first is in the nightmare as Sam becomes monstrous though his consumption of demon blood, a direct callback to season four - another time when he was at rock bottom having lost Dean. The second callback was when Sam mentioned Jessica whose death was the trigger for his return to hunting. Which makes it extra interesting that next week we return to the names Sam and Dean used in 1x02, the first episode after Sam lost Jessica.

Secondly, Dean. Where do I even start? Dean is not coping. At all. He is eating or drinking in almost every scene. This behaviour is reminiscent of 13x05 when Sam was trying to help get Dean back on his feet after losing Cas and Mary. He was shown to be eating a lot of bacon (meat man), the hangover from copious drinking and, of course, hunting. In 15x04 Dean’s first scene involves him eating bacon and introducing a case to Sam. He then goes onto eat pretzels and hot dogs in later scenes (more meat as well as salty food - he’s missing the sweet food in his life. Remember salted caramel? The best of both worlds - a balance between salty and sweet but that balance is gone now.). He also carries a flask around with him and is drinking on the job. 

In 13x05 Sam thought he was helping Dean but Dean still felt hopeless. So hopeless in fact that he willingly killed himself to communicate with the ghosts in the house. He no longer cared about his own life. He needed a win. Interestingly 13x05 was written by Steve Yockey who also wrote next weeks episode, 15x05. I think next weeks episode will be the breaking point for Dean, or at least the beginning of it. After all, he needs his win back, even if he hasn’t verbalised it even to himself yet. The eating, drinking and hunting didn’t help Dean get back on his feet. It was the return of Cas. And Cas only came back to him after Dean verbalised how the loss of Cas affected him (13x03). I think Dean is going to have to admit to himself how much he wants Cas back before Cas will actually return and this could potentially happen in 15x07 with the return of an old hunting friend.

Another thing Dean’s behaviour in this episode reminded me of was season seven. I can’t recall if we’ve seen Dean carrying a flask of alcohol around with him on hunts since then. I may be wrong on that but even if I am it was explicitly made a plot point of season seven with Bobby’s flask. Dean’s drinking in that season escalated to such a point that he and Sam were surprised Dean could even get drunk anymore (7x18). And this excessive drinking was directly linked to the loss of Cas in 7x05 when Dean woke up from nightmares of Cas’ death and immediately reached for a beer bottle.

The loss of Cas is shown through Dean’s attempts at coping, which are not going to work, and also through the pointed absence of Cas from conversation. When he lists the people they have lost Cas is conspicuously absent. Yes, Cas is not dead unlike Mary, Jack and Rowena but he is “dead to [Dean]” or at least Cas believes so. He is not part of Sam and Dean’s lives at this point and has been removed from the story just like the others. And this absence is noted by our unexpected hero of the episode.

Dabb proved once more that one of the strengths of his era is rewriting previous story lines and allowing characters to change and grow and, in Becky’s case, find their happiness. He allows past characters, such as Garth, to find a new life that fulfils them in a way that their lives before didn’t.

And so we come to Becky who is now married with kids and has combined her love for Supernatural and her new life in a way that grants her creative freedom and an income. She also, and mostly notably, writes fanfiction in which the boys find their own happiness, a life with fewer monsters. Becky has gotten her win and found her happiness and now she wishes the same for the people she loves too.

She also critiques God’s work, calling him out on his writing and the lack of good plot, classic rock and Cas, which I’ve discussed here. She confirms in this statement that Cas is integral to the story. There are figurines and plushies of him littered throughout her home alongside those of Sam and Dean.

Once Chuck rewrites the story Becky is horrified for two reasons. For how unfair it is to the boys and how unfair it is to the fans. This makes me hopeful for Chuck’s ending to be subverted. Becky has been the voice of the fandom in this episode; wanting more Cas, wanting happiness for the characters. She fights back against the writer and demands better for the characters she loves. The writer, self-proclaimed as God, removes the fan from the story, wrestling control and focus back onto himself. The writer struggling with letting go of his characters can’t listen to the fans as he grapples with his own worth as a writer. However, Becky is not killed only vanished. I would bet actual money that this is not the last we’ll see of her. She is our voice after all.

I find it ironic that by including Becky and her continual love for the story and characters, Perez has confirmed that the writers are listening. They give Becky a chance to defend Sam and Dean and they give her a voice against God. Her love for Supernatural is no longer destructive and dangerous but fulfilling and relatable. And it is she who is given the chance to critique the “hopeless” story. Chuck is the big bad and his version of the story cannot be allowed to happen. It’s not fair for anyone involved and ironically that includes Chuck. His identity is bound up in his role of the writer and he is clinging to control. However, as the big bad, Chuck must be defeated in some way. He must relinquish his control over the story and hand the reins over to his characters.

This episode is all about control; Chuck’s control over his story, Billy’s parents control over his future and Dean’s control over his emotions. And just like what happened to Billy, this control isn’t healthy and can’t be allowed to continue. Billy’s parents lost their control when Billy confronted what he truly was and submitted to Sam and Dean’s plan. And so too must these other forms of control. Dean will give in and be forced to confront his emotions and Chuck will be forced to confront his characters once more.

#spn 15x04 #spn spoilers #spn thoughts #this got super long #sam winchester #dean winchester #destiel #chuck shurley #god was never on your side #fate vs free will #spn 13x05 #spn 7x18 #spn 7x05 #spn food meta #becky rosen

[huntertales]

Part Three: I Just Want To Be Loved. (Sacrifice S08E23)

Episode Summary: With Crowley poised to undo all the good they’ve ever done as hunters; Sam, Dean and the reader find themselves cornered. But with Kevin’s help, the Winchesters and the reader bound into one last play against the king of hell. However everything comes with a cost. What must the three sacrifice to seal the gates of hell for good? Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Angst, mentions of religious belief/undertones. Word Count: 5,616.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Crowley had been awfully quiet over the past half an hour. Long as you had known the demon he proved he wasn't the type who kept his lips shut for very long. He liked to hear himself talk and try to have the last word. You learned it was trouble when he grew quiet for longer than just a few minutes, it most likely meant he was planning some kind of scheme. His latest one ended with him drawing blood after biting your arm hard enough to leave teeth marks. You weren't sure if you prepare yourself for another attack with the next dosage coming up soon. Unless Crowley had taken your threat of knocking all of his teeth out of his head seriously. You kept your promises. And if anything, you proved to the king you were a force to be reckoned with. You killed his pet hell hound by yourself. You snuck your way into hell and smuggled out Bobby Singer's soul. Not to mention you killed countless of his goons that tried to get in your way. But the person who accomplished all of those things wasn't in front of him tonight.

You might have started off this third trial going in strong, but as the hours passed and you gave the dosages to Crowley,  you were starting to feel the effects you couldn’t hide anymore. It was hard to explain the changes going on in your body. Ever since the first dosage there was a pain that was slowly increasing with each injection. You felt it most in your lower regions like your backside whenever you got up from sitting on the uncomfortable wooden pew and walked around. You tried to hide your discomfort, blaming it on the standing you weren't used to doing lately. But even when you were stuck in Purgatory and hiked your way through hell the pain wasn't...down there. The place where the baby would be coming out in three months. All the Mommy blogs and baby books you bought didn't tell you about discomfort like this. You chalked it up to the excuse of why pregnant women always had to pee every five minutes. Most likely the baby was shifting around, pressing itself against one of your organs.

The ache in your lower regions wasn't the only thing that came about while you were conducting the ritual. You were most likely running a bit of a fever, and you were feeling awfully dizzy. Each step you took felt like you were using what little strength you had left from keeping your knees buckling out from underneath you. You felt weak. Every dosage you were giving Crowley was doing something to your body. You might be making him human, but you were taking something away from yourself. It was hard to explain to someone who didn't go through what you did. While you might have appeared to be getting worse in Sam's eyes, you were determined than ever to keep going. You were so close to finishing this. Three more hours until all of this was over. Nothing was going to stand in your way. 

"How we doing, Kitten? Ain't it about time for the next love injection?" Crowley wondered in a snarky tone. You looked over your shoulder to give the demon your best sarcastic smile you could before turning back to what you were trying to accomplish. Crowley decided to help ease the silence by singing a little David Bowie. "Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes turn around and face the strange ch-ch-changes Just gonna have to be a different man. Time may change me, but I can't trace—” 

You found yourself struggling to gather the strength you needed to prick yourself with another needle. While Sam threw daggers at the demon to shut him up, you leaned against the altar, your hands growing into fists as another shot of pain ran through your body. You opened your eyes slightly to see your arms were glowing again, enough to see the outlines of your veins. Each injection you gave it was starting to come back more frequently, along with the ache you were trying to pretend wasn’t there. And Crowley’s irritating voice as he continued on singing. You pressed your eyelids back together and let out a frustrated sigh. If you wanted anything to stop it was the demon’s off key attempt at singing. You didn't realize it at the time your prayers were about to come true, by someone you least expect to show their face around here.

You were torn away from your personal thoughts when you started to feel the altar beneath your body beginning to shake slightly, causing every instinct in you to throw up red flags. The ground beneath your feet start to move as well, making you quickly figure out something was going on. As the church began to tremble with whatever outside force, Sam pulled out the demon knife as you turned around to face the king of hell, wondering if he was the cause of this. But how? You had him under lock and eye from the cuffs that were made for something like him. And the devil's trap stripped him from doing anything. You glanced down at the bite mark, suddenly figuring out why he bit you in the first place. It wasn't to lash out, it was to call for help. He needed human blood to make contact with his goons. And they were here. 

You looked down at the wooden floors to see the commotion caused a crack to start slowly forming, breaking its way into a perfect line, all the way through the devil’s trap, rendering the spray paint trap. However you knew Crowley couldn’t do much with the cuffs still around him. You wished you could say the same for whatever was standing outside those church doors. All you had to defend yourself was a knife shared between two people and a gun loaded with devil trap markings. You suddenly regretted letting Dean skip out on this. You really could use the numbers for how many demons that were standing out there, waiting to be the one to kill you with their own bare hands at the things you had done this year alone. 

“Do you really think you could kidnap the king of hell and no one was gonna notice, dumb nuts?!” Crowley sneered at you for your actions that were about to bite you in your ass. 

The double doors to the church swung open by the demon after making their grand entrance to save the king. You were expecting a handful of Crowley's goons, maybe even more, waiting for the opportunity to tear you apart limb from limb at what you were trying to do to their precious king. Along with the fact that word had surely spread around you were trying to lock them up for good. The back up you saw was only one single demon. But the sight of her was enough to make your stomach drop in nervousness. This demon already had a personal vendetta against you long before you took on the burdens to close the gates of hell. 

Abbadon strutted her way into the building with the tiniest smirk on her lips at how the both of you were meeting again. It was almost ironic for how you were about to meet your demise. You should’ve known these things don’t end well for those who try to fix things that don’t concern them. Father Thompson was torn apart for trying to cure a demon. Your father was turned into one for simply being in the presence of the ritual. What she was about to do to you and Sam was going to be her best work yet, maybe more than anything she’s ever done. 

“Hello, boys.” She greeted the two men. 

“That’s my line.” Crowley felt the need to correct the demon about who could speak the infamous welcome he never failed to start with. You quickly shot a glance over at Sam, wondering what the hell you were going to do. The knife he was holding in his grip wasn’t going to work on the knight of hell. It was only going to piss her off even more if you tried to. Crowley thought for a moment why she didn’t seem familiar to him. It took him a moment to realize his rescue was rumored to have kicked the bucket decades back. “Abbadon? They told me you were dead.” 

“So not.” She replied.

“And the rest of the calvary?” Crowley wondered about his own safety, he didn’t take a moment to consider the demon was from another time period where more powerful demons above the once king of the crossroads ruled over hell while their father remained trapped in a cage in the depths of hell. 

“Oh, no, it’s just little, old, unkillable me.” Abbadon told the demon. 

You might not have had a chance to find out what kept her down for good, but you knew what could slow her down until you finish the ritual. Once you did, Abbadon and everyone else of her kind would be a problem no more. Sam knew the knife would be no good against her once she decided to quit with the formal introductions to the king of hell and decided to finally kill the both of you once and for all. He swiftly reached for the gun instead he remembered was inside the duffel bag, deciding to take his chance and shoot the demon while she was distracted. Abbadon was quick to catch on to the little tricks you had pulled on her once before, she didn’t even need to pull a muscle to take a few hunters down. 

Sam managed to shoot off a round before he found himself being thrown across the room and landing roughly against the wall when Abbadon noticed what he was trying to do. You found yourself calling out the younger man’s named in a frantic tone of voice at what you saw the demon do. You should have been more concerned at your own well being. Abbadon wasted no time in giving you the same treatment as well, making your body feel as it was a rag doll as she tossed you over to the opposite wall with a hard blow she knew wasn't good for someone in your condition. She watched in pleasure as you fell to the floor, the dull ache in your body had transformed itself into an unbearable pain that would leave you occupied long enough for her to finish business with the king of hell.

“Brillant. Why send in a few grunts when you can send in a knight? Say your prayers, kids.” Crowley seemed rather impressed at what Abbadon was able to do without lifting much as a single finger. But the demon wasn’t done just yet. When she noticed Sam had recovered and was trying to claw his way over to the gun, she decided to remove him from the situation for now. With a simple flick of the wrist, Sam went flying back into the air and tossed out of the church window, landing with a hard enough of a blow to knock him unconscious for the next few minutes. “That’ll do. Undo these. I’ll kill them myself.” 

Abbadon didn’t like the tone of the demon’s voice, along with what he was saying to her. She walked over to Crowley and stood over him. “That was an order, was it?”

“I am your king.” Crowley reminded the demon about her place. 

“About that...” Abbadon decided it was the perfect opportunity to discuss her dislike for how hell turned out. And what better way than the big man himself? She started off with giving Crowley a punch to the face, and another one for good measure to show him just an ounce of the anger she felt when she heard a demon like himself had taken a title he would never be good enough for. “Do you know what I find the most shocking about time-traveling through a closet and landing in the year 2013?”

Abbadon didn’t give the demon a chance to answer her question. She could care less for whatever kind of sarcastic answer that would most likely come out of his mouth. She threw a punch after punch at the demon, not caring when the chair he was tied to tipped over and landed on the ground with a thud. She liked this position better. It made him realize where he belonged. “Somebody thought it was a good idea to make you the king of hell.”

Crowley managed to scope around his surroundings to see the gun Sam had dropped was just a few inches from where his head was. He decided to distract Abbadon long enough to realize they were on the same team. “You know what that mutt’s trying to do, right? She’s trying to shut the gates of hell.” 

Abbadon listened to what the demon had to say, nodding along to the information that was news to her, but it wasn’t enough to soften her feelings against him. She circled around him until she stood in front of him once more, spotting the gun he was trying to reach for. If he was trying to gain her trust, he was doing a lousy job at it. She simply flicked away the gun to a spot nobody would be able to reach it. Both of them were in the middle of a very important conversation. It would be a shame for Crowley to ruin it. Abbadon had so much she wanted to go over with the demon. She bent down so she was more on Crowley’s eye level, wanting to make sure what she was about to say came out crystal clear.

“Right now you and I are gonna talk about a regime change.” She told him flat out how it was going to be. Crowley’s expression began to slowly change when he realized she wasn’t here to rescue him. 

“You little whore.” Crowley hissed at the demon. “I am your k—”

Before he could finish the insult against someone much more powerful than him, Abbadon cut off the demon by kicking him hard enough in the head to knock him unconscious as well. It was slightly comforting to know that even after decades, small men who get the slightest taste of power like Crowley always think they’re entitled to much more like ruling over hell. She would get to him later. Right now the demon had two other very important people waiting for her. Nobody was going to stand in the demon’s way of ripping apart you and the young Samuel the way she should have when she had the opportunity. She was going to make a masterpiece out of your bodies and put them on display for Dean. Oh, it was going to be wonderful. 

Abbadon left the unconscious Crowley and began walking to where she had left you, wanting to warm up first before getting to the good part. She didn’t take into consideration you weren’t fragile as she thought. It was going to take more than being thrown across the room to take you down. She might be unkillable, but you were adaptable. The demon felt a gasp escape her throat when she felt something cold thrown in her face. She stopped in her tracks and let out a frustrated growl at whatever you were trying to do to her. She thought it was holy water someone had thrown at her, but her skin wasn't sizzling. Abbadon wiped her eyes to see you were standing in front of her with a smirk of your own, and a lit set of matches. 

“Love the shirt.” You complimented the demon on her wardrobe choice you remembered she stole off a comic book store worker before killing her. The ironic and infamous ‘Devil made me do it’ shirt would be greatly missed if you had to be honest. “Wish I could say the same for the suit.” 

The stuff you threw in Abbadon's face wasn't holy water like she probably expected it to be as a way to slow her down. You were far past that point. You wanted to see the bitch suffer. And what a more perfect way to do it than douse her in holy oil. You knew from past experience, it was a great combustible substance to trap angels. And set meat suits on fire. You threw the matches to her feet and watch as the body of Josie Sands burst into flames. While you might not be able to kill the demon like you wanted, you could at least inflict fifty-five years worth of karma she had coming her way and set the bitch on fire. 

You stumbled back to distance yourself from the flames as you watched as Abbadon abandoned her body was was about to be reduced to nothing more than a charred corpse. She took her opportunity to escape when she slipped out from the burning body, leaving you to watch as a black cloud of smoke as she vanished into the night sky, far away from here. When you knew she was gone for good, you passed by Crowley, who was still knocked out cold on the floor, and headed outside to see where you could find Sam. You needed to make sure he was all right. Despite the pain you could feel settling in your tailbone, you chalked it up to a little bit of bruising you were going to feel for the next few days. You stumbled your way over to Sam and stumbled down to your knees.

“Sammy. Come on,” You lightly patted the man’s cheek in some kind of attempt to get him to wake up. It took a few more times until you saw his eyelids slowly start to flutter open. You greeted him with a smile. “Hey, you need to get up.” 

It took Sam a few seconds to realize what had happened and how he got here, lying on the ground on a bed of broken glass. He looked around to see if he could find the demon, but when she was out of sight, he directed his attention over to you. “Hey, you okay?” He asked you in a concerned tone. “Where’s Abbadon?”

“I’m fine. And as for Abbadon...” You looked back to the church, remembering where her corpse remained. "Might not be able to kill the bitch, but I can set her on fire. Let’s just say she's not be much of a problem anymore.”

Sam knew there was a story about how you managed to do that on your own without Abbadon knowing what you were up to. He pushed himself back up to his feet and began making his way back inside the church with you as well. You found yourself needing to take it slower than him, the pain was starting to become more intense than you could handle at the moment. You forced yourself to inhale deep breaths as you tried to pretend the ache didn’t exist. But it kept reminding you with each step that you took and headed back inside to where Crowley was waiting for you. 

Sam was the one who pushed Crowley back up into a sitting position after Abbadon went a few rounds with him. You managed to walk all the way over to one of the wooden pews and took a seat for just a minute so you could give your body a rest. You looked over at Crowley when you noticed he was conscious once again. Both of you made eye contact, and when you did, you expect the most to come out of the demon's mouth was a sarcastic line. It was the kind of behavior you had been dealing with all day. However, it seemed he was grateful at what you did. Even displaying a kind of behavior you had never seen in a demon before, you were pretty sure it was gratitude. Maybe it was all the blows to the head he took that rattled his brain around and was making him say all of these things that sounded out of character for him. 

“You did good back there, Kitten. I’ll deny if you ever quote me, but I’m a proud man. I’m proud of you. You too, Moose.” Crowley might have given you the first sincere compliment you ever heard come out of his mouth. You gave him a slightly strange look, wondering if your brain was pulling some kind of trick on you and distorting what the demon was saying. Sam gave the demon a sarcastic smile and grabbed the spray paint to fix up the devil’s trap. “Hold on. Uh, what’s that?”

“It’s what it looks like.” Sam told the demon as he crouched down on the ground to mend back the trap so it remained effective. 

“Are you joking? I just saved your life.” Crowley said. He sounded hurt at what you were doing, treating him like a monster that couldn’t be trusted. Sam chuckled at hearing how the demon managed to save the day, giving him a look as he mumbled a serious in a slightly questionable tone. Crowley followed the younger man across the room until he was standing next to you after throwing the spray can back into the bag. “Seriously? Me, seriously? Kitten. Come on. We just shared a foxhole, you and I. We beat back the tet offensive, outrun the—the rape of nanking together! And still you’re gonna do me like this?!”

You weren't sure what the hell had gotten into Crowley. He was rambling on about something that sounded like nothing more than gibberish to you. You pushed yourself back up to your feet and headed over to him, sticking him with the sixth dosage, leaving you with one left. He hadn’t shown any changes from the dosages. The demon let out a wince of pain at the expected injection he should have known was coming. While you were hoping he would just stop talking, Crowley kept going, trying to explain what he was rambling on in the first place so you would understand. And possibly giving you the first sight of progress. 

“‘Band of Brothers’? ‘The Pacific’? None of this means anything to you?” Crowley asked you in an almost desperate sounding tone of voice. It was like he was hoping you would get what he was trying to say without speaking the exact words. You kept staring at him like he had grown a second head. The demon kept going. “All of those motels, you never once watched HBO, not once? ‘Girls’?” You were about to tune him out, thinking all of what he was rambling on about was nothing more than nonsense. Until you noticed the way he spoke up again. You heard the pure...emotion in his voice, the way his accent slipped away caught your attention the most. You didn’t say anything.  You just let him ramble on.

"You're my Marnie, Kitten. A-And Hannah—she just—she needs to be loved. She deserves it. Don't we all—you, me, Sam—we deserved to be loved. I deserve to be loved!" Crowley shouted the epiphany he realized that was inside of him on the top of his lungs, as if he was declaring it to the world. The sight of his expression alone made it clear he was...feeling things he hadn’t touched in a very long time. Not since he was a human being. And the clutches of hell burned away his humanity. He stared at you with this look in his eye. It reminded you of a broken man, someone who has been starved of affection their entire life. Crowley spoke up once more, this time, in a whisper. “I just want to be loved.” 

Sam hadn’t paid much attention to what the demon was going on about much as you had. To him, it was a bunch of nonsense with little meaning. He stared at Crowley with a confused look on his face after a few seconds passed, as if he was trying to make sense of it all. “What?”

“What?” Crowley repeated after the younger Winchester, suddenly acting as if he was broken out of a trance he was under. The demon looked around the church when he started to remember all the things he just said a few moments ago. A sense of confusion washed all over him at the reaction given from the situation. Demons don't have emotions—not the kind that make you confess things like he had. Crowley fell silent as he stared straight ahead. Something was happening to him, but he wasn’t sure if he should be worried at what this could mean.

+ + +

The trials have been bringing up memories from your past for a while now. Little things about yourself that you forgot all about that didn’t seem important to remember. And then there were sweet memories of a time before monsters and death, when things seemed sweet. And so innocent. Others made you relive things from your past you wanted to bury deep inside of you, never wanting to see the light of day ever again. But they haunted you, reminding you of the monster you used to be—making you wonder if it was possible at all to redeem yourself from your sins. And then you had flashbacks of the simplest things that didn’t seem like they mattered at the time. Until tonight.

While you were sitting on the pew waiting for the seventh hour, you were reminded of a time you were walking down the street, in some city you were passing through while looking for a case. You caught sight of a street preacher with his bible, shouting about something. It was common in the southern states to see someone spreading the word of the gospel. You always brushed it off.  Most of the time people of faith liked to make things bleak. You’re all sinners who are going to hell—unless you accept Jesus as your  savior and allow God into your heart. They always make it seem like their way is the only way to see the pearly gates after you die. Bible thumpers try so hard to make you feel miserable and treat common folk like they’re the monsters if they don’t abide by the rules and live on the straight and narrow. Not this preacher.

He reminded those who would listen that everyone was capable of redemption. No matter how bad of a person you are, whatever sort of obscene acts you committed, you were still capable of being loved. Because that’s what Jesus taught his followers. “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And treat people who didn’t really like you with the same respect. “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” People seem to lose the focus when it came to the words written in the bible they supposedly believe was written by God himself. The exact same one they use to shame people for being different. And they’ll also say in the same breath God doesn’t make mistakes. You’re born exactly as He intended you to be. 

You always chalked up the line as total bull. It only applies for certain things, mostly for what the bible says is okay. And even then people will bend the fictional words to their liking. You knew better than anyone in this world that the big man upstairs screws up. Maybe He tried to fix his mistakes by guiding people to the way He intended for them to be by guiding them to certain situations, to meet someone who could help lead those lost down the right path. You wondered if that’s what he was doing to you. He was leading you down the way he always intended Lucifer to take. His son was given the opportunity to redeem himself. Instead he made it worse by creating you. 

You weren’t given a fair chance at redemption. No matter how hard you tried, every path you tried to take turned out to be the wrong one. It was leading you down the person that was planned out for you. But not even God could tell you what to do. You kept proving over and over again you didn’t want to be like this, a constant sense of evil who can’t do good. So maybe God finally got the hint. Perhaps he was giving you the chance to redeem yourself and making things as they should. By starting with a soul like Crowley’s, something that was corrupted by the flames of hell. You remembered exactly what the preacher had said that say: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

You don’t know much about Crowley before he was turned into a demon, or the reason why he had sold his soul away in the first place. Everyone has a story for how they ended up here, and why turned out the way they did. You always knew Crowley as a smug demon who didn’t like to get his hands dirty. He was a con artist. He tricked people into selling their souls away and into getting people to do what he wanted. Perhaps that’s how he got to be king of the crossroads. Because he was just that good at his job. And how he managed to steal the crown and make himself the king of hell. Because he didn’t just want the power. He wanted someone to look up to him. To be loved by someone.  

The Crowley you saw in front of you just an hour ago was someone you haven't seen before in your entire life. You felt as if you had gotten a glimpse of the person he used to be, back when he was human. Someone who had never quite gotten affection before. You couldn’t deny you were loved by people. And it wasn’t just the traditional romantic love. If anything, you were blessed to be surrounded by people who would—and have—died for you. But Crowley…you found your heart breaking for him in the way he confessed about wanting to be loved. Everyone deserves the affection. But you wonder if he was willing to work to achieve the desired he sought out for. 

You looked down at your watch to see that it was time for the final injection. You reached for the syringe with slightly shaky hands and went to take another dose of blood. Even just sitting here waiting for the hour to pass you felt it becoming increasingly harder to sit here without feeling like you were using all the strength you had left. Your skin felt clammy and the room seemed like it was spinning around you. The only thing clear in your mind was that you wanted to get this complete. And it seemed that someone else was feeling the same way.

“Would it be possible, Kitten…” Crowley spoke up for the first time since his outburst. You glanced up to see the demon fell silent for a few seconds, as if he was trying to think of the proper words to say. Something that felt more meaningful. Because what he was about to ask of you was something he had never thought would come out of his mouth. You slowly pushed yourself up to your feet, wincing at the pain you had been feeling all night. “I’d like..to ask you a favor, Y/N. Earlier, when you were confessing back there…what did you say?” 

The question that came out of Crowley’s mouth didn’t sound cynical. He wasn’t trying to patronize you like he had hours ago. Crowley was serious. Your expression softened when you heard him tell you the reason why. “I only ask because, given my history…” Guilt is one of the worst things humans can feel. Because it comes in many forms. And it tears you up inside at the things you have done with your bare hands. It forces you to look at yourself and realize what kind of monster you had become. God knows you had enough of it. And it seemed Crowley was ready to face his own demons. “It raises the question, where do I start…to even look for forgiveness?”

You couldn’t explain what you were feeling right now after hearing the words that came out of Crowley’s mouth. It wasn’t even a few days ago he was ready to kill you and everyone you saved. The version of him sitting in front of you wasn’t someone you had seen before. But you wanted to. You felt the ends of your lips stretch into a smile as your vision began to grow slightly blurry from the empathy that hit you out of nowhere. Because you knew the feeling, you had been exactly where he was. Someone helped guide you down the right path. Now it was your turn to return the favor. Because everyone was capable of being forgiven. Even someone like Crowley. 

“How about we start with this?” You suggested to him, lifting up the syringe with the last dose of blood. 

Crowley didn't fight you this time. He didn't resist like he had several times before. The last trace of demon inside of him was losing. The person Crowley wanted to be let him turn his head and present his neck. You stepped forward to him and injected him with the final dosage of blood. 

[Next Part]

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[mary-magizoologist]

Series Rewrite|Pilot - Part 3

Characters: Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester

Pairing: eventual Sam x Reader

Words: 2567

Summary: this is based on the pilot episode of the show.

Warnings: language, show level violence.

A/N: here goes the third and last part of the Pilot episode. Hope you guys like it!

This is not beta’d. All mistakes are mine.

Catch Up

Pilot - Part 3

Later that day you were in the motel room. You were laying in bed, Sam was sitting on the bed checking his voicemail. After a few minutes, Dean comes out of the bathroom, shining clean again.

“Hey, man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You guys want anything?” Dean asks.

“No,” says Sam.

“Aframian's buying,” he offers again.

Sam shakes his head and hums a no.

“I want a cheeseburger, please,” you smiled at him.

“Right away,” he winks and leaves the motel room.

Sam remains sitting on the bed, still listening to his messages. His phone beeps and he looks at it and picks it up.

“What?” he asks.

“Dude, five-oh, take off,” Dean answers.

Sam stands up.

“What about you?”

“Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad,” Dean hangs up just in time when the deputies approached him.

“Come on, we gotta go,” Sam rushes.

He grabs your hand and you find a way to leave the room without being noticed by the officers.

“Where are we going?” You ask him.

“Welch’s house.”

You both arrived at the Welch House. You knock on the door and wait. Then, an old man opens it. It was the husband.

“Hi,” Sam greets. “Are you Joseph Welch?”

“Yeah,” he answers.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" You ask.

Sam and you are walking down the driveway with Joseph. He’s looking at a picture of John.

“Yeah, he was older, but that's him,” stated Joseph, handing the photo back to Sam. “He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”

“That's right,” said Sam.

“Yeah, we, uh,” you added, “We're working on a story together.”

“Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?” complained Joseph.

“About your wife Constance?” you asked,

“He asked me where she was buried,” Joseph made a sneer.

“And where is that again?” Sam asked.

“What, I gotta go through this twice?” Joseph complained

“It's fact-checking. If you don't mind,” clarified Sam.

“In a plot,” he answered, “Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.”

“Can we ask why did you move?” you asked.

“I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died,” he deadpanned.

Sam and you stop walking and Joseph stops too.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?”

“No way,” he shook his head, “Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I've ever known.”

You look at him sadly, while Sam continued with the questions.

“So you had a happy marriage?”

Joseph hesitates for a second before answering.

“Definitely.”

“Well, that should do it,” he states.

“Thanks for your time,” you say.

Sam and you walk towards the Impala, and Joseph walks away to his house. You notice Sam stopping, thinking for a moment, then looks back up at you and then at Joseph.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?”

“Sam…”

Joseph turns around, taken aback by the question, “A what?”

“A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?”

Joseph just stares at us.

“It's a ghost story,” you try to explain, “Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really.”

Sam starts to walk towards Joseph, you following walking next to him.

“Um, they're spirits,” Sam continues, “They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women.”

You both stop in front of Joseph. “You understand. But all share the same story.”

“Kids, I don't care much for nonsense,” he barks, walking away.

But that doesn’t stop Sam.

“See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them.”

That comment makes Joseph stops in his tracks.

“These women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children,” you add, Joseph slowly turns around to look at you. “Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.”

“You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!” He yells.

“You tell us,” you tell him.

“I mean, maybe…” Joseph mumbles, “Maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!”

His face shakes, and it’s impossible for you to tell if it’s from anger or grief. After a moment he turns away and Sam sighs, looking down at you.

“We gotta help Dean get out of the police station,” you say, thinking out loud. “Fake 911 call?”

“That’ll work,” Sam smiles at you.

He dials 911 and put the phone on speaker.

“911, what is your emergency?” answers the other person in the line.

“Uh, I’ve heard shots being fired, over at Whiteford Road,” he lies.

“Okay, sir, we’ll send help right away.”

“Thank you,” he answers and hung up. “‘Kay, let’s go.”

It was dark already, you were both in the Impala going down the highway.

“So, Constance was the woman in white,” you mumble. “I kinda feel sorry for Joseph. One mistake and he loses his family…”

“Yeah… our actions always have consequences,” he says.

You look at him, half happy to have him there with you and half sad because it’s closer to the time he’ll leave again. You have an infernal debate setter to tell him how you feel or not. Well, fuck it.

“Sam, I… I need to tell you something,” you speak softly.

“What is it?” he smiles at you fondly.

“I…” you have no time to say anything to him because his phone ringing interrupts.

He puts it on speaker.

“Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal.”

“You're welcome,” he grins.

“It was my idea,” you smile.

“Listen, we gotta talk,” Dean says.

“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful,” Sam explains.

“Yup,” you continue, “We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been John's next stop.”

“Would you both shut up for a second?” Dean scolds.

“How rude,” you whisper.

“I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet,” Sam mumbles.

“Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho,” Dean explains.

You frown.

“What? How do you know?” Sam asks surprised.

“I've got his journal.”

“He doesn't go anywhere without that thing,” realization hitting Sam.

“Yeah, well, he did this time.”

“What's it say?”

“Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going,” Dean explains.

“Coordinates.”

“Where to?” you ask.

“I'm not sure yet,” Dean says.

“I don't understand,” Sam frowns, “I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?”

“Sam, stop!” You warn him when you see a person standing right in front of you on the road.

Sam looks up and slams the brake, dropping his phone. Constance appeared on the road in front you. The car goes right through her as Sam brings it to a halt.

“Sam? Sam!” Dean was yelling on the phone.

Sam and you started breathing hard. You hear some weird whisper and look in the rearview mirror to find Constance sitting in the back seat.

“Take me home,” she says looking at Sam.

Neither of you does anything so she demands “Take me home!”

“No,” states Sam, firmly.

Constance glares and the doors lock themselves. Both of you struggle to reopen them when the gas pedal presses down and the car begins to drive itself. Sam tries to steer the wheel but somehow Constance is doing that too.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whisper still trying to open the door.

The car pulls up in front of Constance's house and stops. The engine shuts off and so do the lights.

“Don't do this,” Sam tells her and her image flickers.

“I can never go home,” her voice was strained.

“You're scared to go home,” you mumble.

Sam looks at the back and Constance isn't there. You glance around and gasp when you see her in the front seat, right between Sam and you. She climbs into his lap, shoving him back into the seat hard enough to recline it.

“Hold me. I'm so cold,” she whines.

You fumble looking for something made out of iron to make her disappear.

“You can't kill me,” Sam struggles to take her off, “I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!”

“You will be. Just hold me.”

Constance kisses Sam, you grimace at the sight, as he continues to struggle to reach for the car keys. She pulls back and disappears, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanishes.

“Is she gone?” You ask frowning.

Sam looks around for a moment, then yells in pain and yanks his hoodie open.

“Sam!” You scream, reaching for him to help him, punching at the air trying to make her go away. “Fuck!”

There are five new holes burned through the fabric, Constance flickers in front of him again, her hand reaching into his chest. A gunshot goes off, shattering the window and distracting Constance. Dean approaches, still firing at her. She glares at him and vanishes, then reappears, and Dean keeps firing until she disappears again. Sam manages to sit up and start the car.

“I'm taking you home,” he groans. He drives forward, going in smashing through the side of the house.

“Sam! Y/N! You okay?” he asks.

“I think…” Sam groans next to you. You look at him checking the wounds on his chest.

“Can you move?” you ask him.

“Yeah. Help me?”

You open the passenger door and get out, helping Dean in getting Sam out of the car.

“There you go,” he says, closing the car door.

You all look around and see Constance glaring at you. She throws a picture down. A bureau scoots towards and pins the three of you against the car. Lights flicker again and Constance seems to be scared. You see water beginning to pour down the stairs, she walks over to see a boy and a girl holding hands.

“You've come home to us, Mommy,” they speak in chorus.

Constance looks at them, distraught. Suddenly they are behind her, they embrace her tightly and she screams, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, she and their two children melt into a puddle on the floor. You shove the bureau over and go look at the spot where Constance and her children vanished.

“So this is where she drowned her kids,” Dean points out.

Sam and you nod.

“That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them,” you mumble.

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy,” congratulates Dean slapping Sam on the chest, right where he’s been injured and walks away.

Sam laughs through the pain, winching. You smile fondly at him.

“Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you,” he tells Dean, “What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”

“Hey. Saved your ass,” he points out.

“You could've shot me, dude. But anyway, it worked better than me trying to punch it in the face,” you shake your head. “You should keep an iron bar on your car by the way.”

He makes a face to you and leans over to look at the car.

“I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?” he twists around to look at Sam, “I'll kill you.”

Sam laughs and you shake your head smiling.

You were back on the road again. You were sitting in the back, resting your arms and head on the back of the front seat. Sam had John’s journal on his lap, opened at the page with the code he had left Dean “DEAN 35-111" and a map open looking for the coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between chin and shoulder.

“Okay, here's where Dad went,” Sam starts, catching both Dean and your attention, “It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.”

Dean nods, “Sounds charming. How far?”

“About six hundred miles.”

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning,” he grins.

You see his hesitating look.

“Dean, I, um…”

Dean glances at the road and back at Sam. “You're not going.”

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,” he shrugs.

Dean nods, disappointed, and returns his attention to the road.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever,” he glances at Sam, “I'll take you home.”

Sam turns the flashlight off and you continue on the road in silence, except for the music playing on the radio.

With Highway To Hell playing on the stereo, Dean pulls up in front of Sam’s apartment. Dean was still frowning. Sam gets out and leans over to look through the window at the two of you.

“Call me if you find him?” he asks.

You both nod.

“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?” he smiles.

“Yeah, all right,” Dean mumbles.

“Be careful, Sammy,” you smile at him.

Sam pats the car door twice and turns away. You jump from the back to take a seat shotgun next to Dean. He leans toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat behind you.

“Sam?” he calls.

Sam turns back.

“You know, we made a hell of a team back there,” he grins.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees.

Dean drives off. You look in the wing mirror and see Sam watching you go. You take a long intake of breath and let it out slowly, and you bit your lip trying not to cry. Dean looks at you.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he runs a hand through your head.

“God, I feel so dumb and weak,” you groan, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“You’re not weak, you’re one of the most badass hunters I know,” he reassures you, “We can be hunting partners.”

“Batman and Robin?” you ask with a shy smile.

“Hell yeah,” he smiles at you.

Suddenly something doesn’t feel right. You frown and look at your watch. It’s not ticking. You look at Dean who has the same worried face as you, he looks at his watch too and it’s not ticking either. He reaches for the steering wheel and makes a U-turn.

Dean kicks the front door open and you both run inside yelling for Sam. You hear him screaming in the bedroom and you head that way. You see Sam laying on the bed covering his face screaming for Jess. You and Dean look up and see her pinned to the ceiling engulfed by the flames.

“Oh, shit,” you mumble, rubbing towards Sam.

“No! No!” screams Sam.

Dean grabs Sam pulling him off the bed and shoves him out the door, Sam struggling all the way, calling for Jess. The three of you manage to get out before the fire takes over the apartment.

Firemen and police came to take care of the situation. Dean was standing near the crowd and he walked back to the car. You stood by Sam’s side, running your hand on his back trying to calm him down, he was behind the open trunk of the Impala, loading a shotgun. Dean looks at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face is set in a mask of desperate anger.

“Hey. How you doing?”

Sam looks up, then sighs and looks back down. “I'm fine.”

He tosses the shotgun into the trunk.

“Come on. We got work to do,” he tells you, shutting the trunk.

The three of you got it. Dean in the driver's seat, you in the back and Sam riding shotgun.Dean drives the Impala away as music begins to play.

Next part

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[queen-of-deans-booty]

Devil’s Trap- Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,967

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: THE SEASON FINALE IS HERE!!!! I am so excited! Please, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think!

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You ended up back at a cabin and Dean was attending to your wounds. Sam was lining the windows and doors with salt. You hissed in pain when the alcohol touched your wounds.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Dean grimaced, taking out the glass and sewing the wounds that were deep. You took the bottle that he was using and took a large swig of the alcohol, giving it back to him.

“How are you, Sam?” You asked, looking at the younger brother.

“I’ll survive. You don’t think we were followed here, do you?” Sam asked, standing up.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, we couldn’t have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up.” Dean said, finishing his work. He put your shirt back down and you sighed, looking at Dean who put away the supplies.

“Thank you, Dean, for this.” You said.

“Glad I brought the gun, huh?” He smirked lightly but you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t push it.” You muttered. Just then, John walked out of the bedroom that Dean put him in to rest.

“You guys did good.” You looked at him but narrowed your eyes. Something was still off. He would be furious that you wasted a bullet.

“You’re not mad at us?” Dean asked, confused.

“Why would I be?” John shrugged. Yeah, he was possessed.

“For using a bullet.”

“Mad? I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you watch out for this family. You always have.” John smiled.

“John, I just want to say that you’ve always been a great father to me and I’m lucky to have you. Your sons are lucky to have you.” You smiled sickly sweet.

“I try to be.” John smile. You looked at Dean and his eyes widened when you gave him a certain look. This wasn’t John and you think Dean realized that. Sam didn’t seem to realize that but at least Dean did. Just then, the lights started to flicker and you bit your lip. The demons were here for their leader.

“Sam, put lines of salt in front of every window and door. They found us.” John ordered.

“I already did.” Sam said.

“Check it.” John ordered. Sam nodded and left the room.

“Dean, you got the gun?”

“Yeah.” Dean said, kind of distant.

“Give it to me.”

“Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It disappeared.” Dean said, taking the Colt out of his jeans.

“This is me. I won’t miss. Now, the gun, hurry,” John ushered. This wasn’t John though and you and Dean knew it. “Son, please.”

“He’d be furious.” Dean muttered, backing away from John. He took your waist and put you behind him, backing you up as well.

“What are you doing, Dean? Give me the gun.” John ordered again.

“He’d be furious that I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me; he’d tear me a new one.” Dean glared at the man in front of you. Dean raised the Colt and pointed it at John, cocking it.

“You’re not John.” You said in the same cold voice from earlier.

“Dean, it’s me.” John tried again.

“I know my Dad better than anyone and you ain’t him.” Dean glared.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” John rolled his eyes.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” You glared at John.

“Stay back.” Dean growled. Sam picked a perfect time to come back into the room.

“Dean? What the hell’s going on?” Sam asked with wide eyes.

“Your brother has lost his mind.” John said.

“That’s not John, Sam. Remember when I said I had a bad feeling? This is it,” John looked at you with a certain glint in his eyes but he remained quiet. “I think he’s possessed. I think he’s been possessed since we rescued him.”

“Don’t listen to her, Sammy.” John said, looking at his youngest son. You looked at Sam and begged him with your eyes to join you and Dean. How much does he really know about his father? He’s been on the road with you and Dean for almost a year.

“Dean, Y/N, how do you know?” Sam asked, obviously conflicted.

“He’s... he’s different.” Dean said, fighting back tears. Dean wasn’t a crier but when he did, he was in great pain and Sam knew this.

“You know, we don’t have time for this. Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you’ve gotta trust me.” John said, trying to get Sam to trust him. Sam looked back and forth between his brother and John before walking over to his brother’s side.

“I trust Dean more.” Sam said quietly. You smirked, looking at the demon you were sure was inside John.

“Fine. You’re so sure, go ahead. Kill me.” John said, crossing his hands. Dean held the gun to his father but couldn’t bring himself to shoot him. That hesitation is what caused you three trouble.

“I thought so.” When John looked at you, his eyes were yellow. He used his demonic powers to throw Sam against the wall, Dean against another wall and you against the bed. John picked up the gun and chuckled, weighing the object in his hand.

“What a pain in the ass this thing’s been.” John growled.

“It’s you, isn’t it? We’ve been looking for you for a long time.” Sam said, getting tears.

“Well, you found me.” John grinned.

“But the holy water… it didn’t work.”

“You think something like that works on something like me?” John said, smirking.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Sam yelled, glaring at the demon.

“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact, make the gun float to you there, psychic boy.” John put the Colt on the table, smirking at Sam.

“You’re nothing but a real bitch, you know that?” You growled, looking at him.

“Ah, Y/N, what an honor to be near you. You know, you aren’t supposed to be alive. I sent my daughter to kill you but she got mommy instead.” Your eyes widened when he said the work daughter. Meg was his child?

“What are you talking about? You’re the reason my mom is dead?” You glared at him.

“Oh, honey, I’m the reason a lot of moms are dead. Don’t take is personally. You see, I can’t have you alive. That messes with my plans for Sam over there. I could have killed you a hundred times but this is worth the wait.” The demon touched your face and you would have turned away but the force was keeping you still.

“Then kill me if you want to so bad. What are you waiting for?” You spat at him.

“Don’t touch her, you son of a bitch.” Dean growled. John smirked and stepped away from you, putting his head down. Suddenly, you felt a searing pain in your chest and you screamed out, trying to escape. The pain wouldn’t stop and the force wouldn’t let up.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled out. He tried struggling but he wasn’t going anywhere either. Blood started pouring from your chest. You cried out in pain when another surge of pain went through your chest.

“John! Don’t let him kill me! Dean, please do something.” You cried out in pain. You knew that Dean couldn’t do anything while trapped on the wall but maybe John was in there and he heard you. You cried out in pain, more blood falling from your chest.

“You were supposed to die that day and now you finally will. I can’t have you mess up my plans.” John growled. Blood started pouring out of your mouth and you started to become numb. The pain was so great, that your nerves were on fire, numbing your entire body as you shut down.

“Y/N! Stay awake for me sweetheart!” You heard Dean yell from a distance. Things were beginning to black out and you felt yourself slip away from reality into your own mind.

“John, please.” You choked out, blood coming out of your mouth. The pain got too much and you passed out against the bed, not feeling anything anymore. You were just so close to death.

“Stop... Stop it.” John whispered. The force holding the brothers and you were gone but you were too far gone to notice anything. Dean automatically went to you while Sam snatched up the Colt, pointing it at his father.

“Sweetheart, you have to open your eyes. I can’t lose you too.” Dean was crying now, not caring who saw. He just needed you to wake up. Meanwhile, Sam pointed the gun at his father, cocking it.

“You kill me, you kill Daddy.” The demon snarled. He was pissed he didn’t get to finish the job of killing you but he had more pressing matters now that the Colt was pointed at him.

“I know.” Sam said, shooting his father in the leg, wasting another bullet. You groaned awake, opening your eyes, looking up at Dean who was crying.

“Oh, thank God, sweetheart, stay with me. We’ll get you to a hospital.” He picked you up and you groaned out in pain. Your throat was sore so you couldn’t make a lot of noise but that hurt like hell. Sam decided to make sure his father was still there when John opened his eyes with a gasp.  

“Sammy! It’s still alive. It’s inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son! Do it now!” John, the real John, ordered. Sam pointed the gun at him but Dean stopped him.

“Sam, don’t you do it!” He couldn’t lose two people in one day.

“You’ve got to hurry! I can’t hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I’m begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!” John pleaded. You didn’t want John dead but you wanted this demon dead. You coughed, some blood getting on Dean’s shirt but he didn’t seem to care.

Again, the hesitation is what caused you the most trouble. The demon saw a way out and he smoked right out of John and disappeared. The demon got away but John was okay. Sam looked at Dean and they had their silent communication. Dean nodded and took you out to the Impala, getting in the backseat of the car with you to hold you and take care of you.

Sam brought John out to the car, putting him in the passenger’s seat before getting behind the wheel.

“Look, just hold on, alright. The hospital’s only ten minutes away.” Sam said, reassuring you who was passing out from time to time only to be awoken with Dean’s kisses and soft touches.

“Sweetheart, you have to stay awake.” Dean said to you. You nodded but your eyes betrayed him as they closed.

“Drive faster, Sammy.” Dean growled out.

“I’m surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn’t you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first, before me and before everything.” John said, grunting out in pain.

“No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we’ve still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon...” Sam said, trailing off. He was driving as fast as he could without causing pain to you or his father. You opened your eyes and looked at Dean.

“I love you so much, Dean Winchester.” You whispered.

“No, don’t say that. You’re not allowed to say that.” Dean said, stroking your hair. In the next moment, the car was hit and it was toppling over at full speed, crashing into the ground several times before skidding to a halt. The last thing you saw was blood and glass before everything went black.

Masterlist

Series Rewrite tags:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @spn-applepie-imagines

Forever tags:

@gothic-neuromancer @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes@roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @innernightwerewolf

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @27bmm

#dean x reader #deanxreader #dean winchester x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester preference #dean x reader insert #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x reader inserts #series rewrite #series rewrite masterlist #dean winchester series rewrite #devil's trap #season 1 episode 22 #s1e22 #s1e22 spoilers #spoilers #spn #spn spoilers #supernatural #supernatural spoilers #sam #sammy #Sam Winchester #john #john winchester

[mittensmorgul]

tell us what you really think, mittens haha

Ehhhh, it would devolve into a long rant about literary analysis and meta writing and fandom problems and the enthusiastic opening of eurrrrg that we boxed up and threw out YEARS ago…

I feel like Cas in 4.03:

Castiel: Destiny can’t be changed, Dean. All roads lead to the same destination.Dean: Then why’d you send me back?Castiel: For the truth. Now you know everything we do.

You can’t rewrite history just to suit your current whims.

or like Dean in 6.20:

DEAN You’re a freakin’ child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want doesn’t mean that you get to do whatever you want!

Because the narrative vilifies Cas and his choices there, and then kills him for them. Not because Dean didn’t support him. Cas didn’t WANT his support, he wanted Dean to stand down, to stay out of it, which was the entire reason he went behind Dean’s back in the first place. NOTHING would’ve changed, because you can’t rewrite history to suit your emotional needs. That’s not how any of this works.

The Leviathan would still have taken over Cas and controlled him. Dean wouldn’t have even BEEN there physically, because that was the intent of the narrative– to vilify and kill off Cas as a character on the show. Ignoring that fact because it’s inconvenient to your headcanon is not a sound basis for writing meta.

The larger point is that I have no idea (aside from the emotional origins of Cas’s guilt and ptsd that spurred his character development over the ensuing seasons and have led to his current situation) how the events of the end of s6/early s7 even apply to the events of 12.19-12.23. His s6 arc applied more to MARY in s12, and vast quantities of meta have been written on that fact toward the beginning of the season, which were later supported by actual canon facts.

Yes, Mary and Cas shared similar surface-level arcs in early s12, but they diverged almost immediately to demonstrate to us that even though they appeared similar in some instances (like both of them leaving for emotional reasons in 12.03), their emotional reasons were almost diametrically opposite to one another. It became less compare and more contrast.

So while Mary lived through the betrayal/working behind their backs/for their own good sort of arc Cas had in s6, complete with “going darkside” and (instead of dying for it, she achieved a measure of redemption, allowing Dean to pull her back from her mistakes before she jumped over the cliff like Cas did in s6) was dragged off into an alternate dimension by Lucifer (much like an inversion of Sam dragging Lucifer into the cage at the end of s5), Cas made a profound journey through numerous seasons’ worth of his own past arc.

We saw him working WITH Heaven (12.15, the very beginning of 12.19) albeit grudgingly, we saw him confronting angels from his own past, revisiting some of his past “sins” and making better choices this time (12.10). This is all directly out of his s4 arc, but also s8– which he spent 80% of under the influence of brainwashing from Heaven/the Angel Tablet. His sudden and shocking trust in Jack at the end of s12 is most closely paralleled to the way he walked away from Sam and Dean at the end of 4.20, after having been tortured and reprogrammed by Heaven:

DEAN : Cas, hold up. What were you gonna tell me?CASTIEL : I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve heaven, I don’t serve man, and I certainly don’t serve you.

The evolution of that parallel, from a time when Cas was only tentatively beginning to form a relationship with the Winchesters is tangibly different by 12.19, with 8 years of emotional struggles and his admission in 12.12 that he has been changed by the Winchesters, and he feels they are his family now. It makes the scene in 12.19 where he rejects them in favor of following Jack all that much more agonizing.

I’m just summing this up here, because there’s hundreds of posts already on my blog that go into MUCH greater detail on all of this.

#spn meta meta #anonymous #spn 4.20 #spn 12.19 #spn 12.10 #spn 12.15 #spn s8 #spn s4 #spn s12 #we don't talk about season six #that is not a tag without about a billion tons of baggage attached to it you know #spn 12.23 #castiel winchester #mary f. winchester

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Broken and Cursed

Characters: Y/N (reader), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Metatron (mentioned), Naomi (mentioned), Crowley (sorta).

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Selfloathing, Self-blame, hurt!Sam, canon typical violence, s8 spoilers (but is that really spoilers anymore?)  

Word Count: 2400ish

A/N: This is a rewrite of the end of the season 8 finally. I loved the scene in the church, and I hope that I haven’t butchered it completely by inserting a reader into this moment between the brothers. I used some of the dialogue from the episode, and I do not claim to own any of that.  

This is 1 out of my 13 entries for @mamapeterson / @mrs-squirrel-chester’s Album Fanfiction Challenge where I chose the album “Smoke and Mirrors” by Imagine Dragons. The song prompt for this fic is: Shots

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

You clasped your hand over your mouth, staring into thin air as Cas disappeared before your eyes, and Dean called out to him to no avail. This had just gone from bad to worse, and the panic you had struggled to hold in ever since your talk with Naomi was getting harder and harder to contain.

“Goddammit!” Dean snarled, making you jump slightly. Not so much because of his reaction, but because you knew Dean tended to speak before he thought when he was angry. He said things he didn’t mean, things that Sam always ended up taking to heart. You didn’t blame Dean for it. They were brothers, and it was part of who they were. It had been part of who they were long before you had met them. Long before you had fallen in love with Sam, and long before he had pushed you away out of fear of what his love would do to you.

No matter how hard he had pushed though, no matter how much it had hurt, you hadn’t left. Not really. You had kept in touch with Dean, and the second Sam had started showing signs of being ill, Dean had told you and you had reentered the brothers’ lives completely. You had moved into their new found home with them, but you had given Sam his space because you thought that had been what he needed. Standing outside the old church with Dean yelling towards the sky, you weren’t so sure. You were terrified of losing him, and the nagging feeling you could have done something to prevent things coming to this weighed heavily on your heart.

“Dean, what are we going to do?” your voice sounded even more rattled than you felt, and the older Winchester instantly turned around to face you. His eyes softened as they found yours.

“About Cas? Nothing. We can’t do anything about that right now. Right now we go get Sammy okay? You’ll help me, right?” Dean ran his hands up and down your arms in effort to soothe you, as you stood like a lifeless rag doll in front of him. He had always been like an older brother to you. He had always been there when you needed him and listened whenever you needed to talk. Sam, however. Sam had always been something much, much more, and not even his fears for you could change how you felt about him. He had always been there for you when you needed him. He had believed in you when you couldn’t believe in yourself. No matter how much he had hurt you in the past, you still loved him with all of your heart, and you knew that would never change. Of course you were going to help Dean save him.

You nodded quickly, taking a deep decisive breath, “let’s do this.”  

You and Dean walked into the church. You walking a few steps behind him, even if every vein in your body screamed at you to run to Sam, screamed for you to wrap your arms around the man you loved more than life itself and beg for him not to leave you. But you didn’t. You stayed behind Dean, letting him take the lead, trusting Dean to know his brother better than Sam had have let you.

“Hey Sam. Easy there. Okay?” Dean moved slowly forward as if Sam were holding some lethal weapon in his hands, threatening to fling it at Dean at any moment. You supposed he was. Sam was holding the power to end his own life, and you know that would hurt both you and Dean more than any knife, gun, demon, or monster that you could ever face.

“Just take it easy. We got a slight change of plans,” Dean spoke, as he kept moving towards his brother slowly, with you right behind him, following Dean’s every lead.

“What? Where is Cas? Why is Y/N here?” Sam looked so sick that you had to fight to hold back your tears. He hadn’t exactly been the picture of health the last time you saw him, but now he was sweating. His arms were glowing, and he looked so weak and confused that your heart broke for him.

Rather than answering his brother, Dean just got straight to the point; calm and collected. “Metatron lied. You finish this trial, you’re dead, Sam.”

You were sure Dean was trying to rattle him into stopping, or maybe just seeing the world like he did, by simply stating facts. However, somehow you knew it wasn’t going to work. You braced yourself for the word you knew was coming, but it still almost stopped your heart as it left Sam’s lips.

“So?”

You saw the shock on Dean’s face. The pain it caused him to know that his brother cared so little about his own life. So you took a step forward, standing next to Dean.

“Sam, please listen to us. You don’t need to go through with this,” you tried, but all you earned from Sam was an angry glare as he almost yelled at you and Dean.

“Look at him! Look at how close we are! Other people will die if I don’t finish this.”

His words stabbed your heart. In that moment, you didn’t care about anyone else. All you cared about was Sam, and you knew Dean felt the same way as he finally seemed to regain his footing from the blow that was Sam’s reaction to his words. Dean slowly started moving forward again, still holding his hands out infront of him, trying to calm his little brother.

“Think about it. Think about what we know, huh? Pulling souls from hell, curing demons. Hell, ganking a Hellhound! We have enough knowledge on our side to turn the tide here.” Dean tried to reason with his brother, but you couldn’t think of anything to say to help him. All you could think about was Sam no longer wanting to live. All you could think about was a life without Sam and how that was not a life you wanted to live. Dean mirrored your thoughts with his words, looking to you, pleading with you to help him out. “But we can't do it without you.”

“Dean’s right Sam,” your voice was meek but unwavering. You wanted him to hear this from both of you. You needed him to know how much you still loved him, even if you couldn’t come right out and say it in that moment. If you did, you were afraid you would push him further away from you instead of reassuring him that he would always have you. For some reason you had never understood, Sam had always seemed to be afraid to let you love him. It had always pained you, but you pushed the thought aside for now. Right now Sam was the most important thing. Your hurt feelings would have to wait. “We need you. There’s so much more to fight in this world other than demons. We can’t do that without you.”

Sam’s eyes opened wider as he stared at you. “You can barely do it with me. Every woman that has gotten close to me is dead. Maddison, Sarah, Jessica… Mom. How long do you think you will last if you stay close to me, Y/N?”

You gasped at his words, trying to fight back your tears as you realized why he had pushed you away. He was afraid he bore some kind of curse that made his love be enough to kill you, but before you could answer him, before you had a chance to tell him how wrong he was, Sam turned his attention to Dean.

“And you think I screw up everything I try. You think I need a chaperone, remember?”

The pain and regret was evident on Dean’s face when he interrupted his brother, “Come on, man. That’s not what I meant.”

“No, it's exactly what you meant.” Sam didn’t let either of you interrupt him. Not even  when you stepped forward to reach out to him. He just pointed towards the confessional and proceeded, his voice thick from emotions now. “You want to know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down. I can't do that again.”

“Sam…” Dean finally tried to interrupt after hearing his brother out. You could hear the pain in his voice and see it in how he held himself. He couldn’t take much more of this, and part of you was scared he would break, and yell at Sam while the other part hoped he would do just that. You hoped he would do something, anything to get through to Sam. Anything not to lose the man you loved.

Instead of stopping, Sam turned to face you. “What happens when I get to weak, and I let you in. What happens if I break and let you know that I love you too? How long before I get you killed too?”

Tears were building in Sam’s eyes now, your own rolling down your cheeks when you stepped forward, screaming at him, “Stop it, Sam! Please!”

But he didn’t. Sam just turned his attention back towards his brother again, crying now. “What happens when you've decided I can't be trusted again? I mean, who are you gonna turn to next time instead of me? Another angel, another… another vampire? Do you have any idea what it feels like to watch your brother…”

That was it. Dean couldn’t take it anymore, and he interrupted “Hold on,” before raising his voice, gaining Sam’s attention. “Just hold on!”

You breathe a sigh of relief. You knew the boys fought, but the respect and admiration Sam had for his older brother ran deep. If anyone could get through to Sam in in delirious, pained state, it would be Dean.

You admired Dean for how calm he was able to keep his voice, only raising it to stress a point every now and again.

“You seriously think that? Because none of it... none of it… is true. Listen, man, I know we've had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I've said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Sammy...come on.” The raise in Dean’s voice that came after that was not anger. It was grief. Strong, courageous Dean that had gotten you all through so much was fighting to hold back his tears at the mere thought of not only losing his brother, but at the fact that Sam didn’t see how much he cared about him. Dean loved Sam as much as you did. He would be as much of a mess if you lost him as you would be, if not more so. Dean had devoted his life to keep his brother safe, and Sam questioning his love for him cut him deeper than you had seen any blade or loss in the past do.

“I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard, and all the sons of bitches that killed Mom, walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you,” Dean pleaded with his brother, who finally looked as if he was beginning to listen, so you took a step forward to chip in.

“Sam you aren’t cursed. You are not to blame for any of their deaths. No matter if you chose to allow yourself love me or not, that doesn’t change the fact that I love you. I am not going anywhere, and if you think I am going to let you hurt yourself because you think it will me safe… Sam for the smartest person I know… that’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” You sent him a weak smile and drew a sigh of relief when you saw a hint of a smile on his lips before he turned back to his brother.

“How do I stop?” An almost audible sigh of relief left Dean as he walked towards his brother.

“Just let it go,” Dean urged him, but Sam didn’t stop crying.

“I can’t. It’s in me, Dean.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks again when you heard the fear in Sam’s voice, and you suddenly realized this wasn’t over. It was beyond Sam’s control, and even if he wanted to live, he might still die from this. Dean’s calm however didn’t break. He just wrapped his brother’s bleeding hand in the bandana he always carried in his pocket.

“Hey, listen. We will figure it out, okay. Just like we always do,” Dean promised, before pulling Sam in for a tight hug as you watched them with tears in yours eyes. “Come on. Let it go, okay? Let it go, brother.”

“Hey,” Sam broke the hug, twisting his arms in front of Dean, showing his brother how they had stopped glowing.

“You see,” Dean smiled relieved at his brother, before Sam’s eyes sought you out. He smiled at you, a smile you barely got to return before he crutch down in pain.

Your terrified scream filled the abandoned church, only echoed by Dean calling out his brother’s name, as he caught him just before he hit the ground.

“Y/N the doors! We need to get him to a hospital,” Dean ordered, snapping you out of your panicked state, and you did as you were told before grabbing Sam’s free arm, helping Dean support him as you together staggered out of the church.

“I got you little brother,” Dean promised as the two of you struggled to keep a groaning Sam on his feet. “You’re gonna be just fine,” Dean added before Sam feel into the side of the Impala, pulling you and Dean down with him.

“Sam, Sam, Sammy,” you and Dean both called out to him, trying to make sure he was alright. He clearly wasn’t. You had seen Sam hurt before but never in this much pain. His pain physically hurt you, and you could see by the pain in Dean’s eyes that he was going through the same thing you were.

“Cas! Castiel!” Dean bellowed in hopes your angel friend could do something to help Sam, but his prayer wasn’t answered. “Where the hell are you?” Dean mumbled, and you fought to hold back the tears. If Dean was this scared, it really was as bad as you thought it was. You might really lose Sam tonight, and the same reluctance to carry on that Sam had vocalized earlier rushed over you. Without Sam, you didn’t want to live, and you knew Dean felt the same way.  The same terror and agony you felt as you watched Sam writhe in pain before you was mirrored in Dean’s orbs when your eyes met.

The night sky suddenly lit up with thousands of lights, pulling you from your thoughts and fears, filling you both with an entirely different kind of terror.

“No, Cas,” Dean begged as the three of you looked to the sky.

“He did it,” you whispered, much to Sam’s confusion.

“What’s happening?”

“Angels,” Dean answered as you all stared to the sky, “they’re falling.”

You’re gaze met Dean’s while Sam kept staring into the sky, baffled and in pain. You and Dean however thought the same thing. Sam couldn’t die tonight. None of you could. You had work to do, and you needed Sam by your side through this. Whatever it took, whatever deal you had to make, or whatever sacrificed it would cost, Sam would have to make it through this.  

Sam Tag Team (CLOSED)

@mysupernaturalfics @blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @jpadjackles @supernaturalyobessed @purgatoan @supernatural-jackles @revwinchester @starswirlblitz @skathan-omaha @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline    @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @winchesterprincessbride @curliesallovertheplace @faith-in-dean @ellen-reincarnated1967 @elliewinchesterr @adriellej @moonstar86 @atc74 @knittingknerdy @tia58 @tia58 @lycangirl44 @brooke-supernatural16 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @melonberri @thatonehaspanicchick @stilinski15 @impalaimagining @roxy-davenport @your-average-distracted-waffle @phoenixia67 @bringmesomepie56 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @jasminwild @gryffindorable713  @blushingsamgirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @smoothdogsgirl @angelkurenai @ayeeitsemry @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @charliebradbury1104 @chelseypaigeake @charliebradbury1104 @gecko9596 @nichelle-my-belle @ashleymalfoy @lucifer-ismy-bae @deansleather @fangirl1802 @jayankles @samgirlforeverandalways @spn-fan-girl-173 @for-the-love-of-dean @mamapeterson @zeneko1987 @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala @jensen-gal @iamnotsaneatall @gemini75eeyore @winchester-writes @just-a-touch-of-crowley  @itsummertime22 @deanwinchesterisamazing @caitsymichelle13 @sandlee44 @nataly-world @riversong-sam @flawsweirdo @gabriels-trix  @jeremy-hilary-boob @captainradicalpassion @dontbeamenacetotheforce @love-kittykat21 @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot @thelittleredwhocould @ivvitm1109 @iamflanneltrash @mogaruke @haleyhay96 @thewhisperingfox @blanketmadeofstar @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople

#sam x reader #fanfiction album challenge #sam winchester x reader #sam angst #sam winchester angst #spn angst #spn imagine #spn fanfiction #spn family #sam winchester imagine #sam imagine #sam winchester one shots #sam one shot #spn one shot

[meganwinchester1999]

Can’t Breathe (Rewrite)

Pairing: Junior!Cas x Senior!Dean (Main Ship), Senior!Gabe x Junior!Sam (Secondary ship)

Characters: Castiel Novak, Gabriel Novak, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Raphael, Jimmy Novak (mentioned), Chuck (mentioned), Ellen Harvelle (Mentioned)

Word Count: 1,317

Warnings: None really just a lot of fluff and I don’t know if an asthma attack is one but I will put it just in case

A/N: This is a rewrite of a Destiel High School AU request I wrote a while ago and I thought I should rewrite it since I’ve come a long way in terms of my writing and that is what I’ve done and I’ve also added a title too. This hasn’t been beta’d so all mistakes are mine and tags are at the bottom.

Junior Castiel Novak had a massive crush and yeah he knew it was a pretty big crush and it was someone who Cas knew he could never have; the most popular and most handsome senior in their school, Dean Winchester.

Cas had seen him a lot since his older brother, Gabriel, who was also in Dean’s year, was going out with Dean’s younger brother, Sam. He had no idea how Gabe, what he liked to be called, had managed to pull that off since he knew Gabe was someone who was a trickster and rebel and the teachers hated him but Sam was someone who the teachers loved however he was happy for them both.

He knew for a fact that Dean liked girls as he was known for being a “ladies man” who took girls into the janitor’s cupboard. Even after all he heard about Dean he still had a crush on him and if Dean did like boys who would want to go out with him? Cas was considered the freak in his school since he had dark blue hair and loads of piercings so people would think he was a rebel like Gabe but no he was also a geek so he knew Dean wouldn’t go for him.

Jimmy, his twin brother who had dropped out of school due to the fact their father Charles well Chuck as he is well known had let Jimmy join the family business of writing, and Gabe told him to go for it but Cas couldn’t face the rejection and humiliation but that all came crashing down in a big and very public way.

Cas had just come out of the cafeteria after lunch to go back to class when he wasn’t watching where he was going and bumped into Dean hard in the chest and fell back onto the hard, cold floor.

“Shit, Cas are you alright” Dean quickly knelt down beside him and squeezed him a tiny bit too tight, actually looking really concerned and worried which surprised Cas a bit.

‘Why did it have to be him out of all people’ Cas thought as he tried to stand up but he suddenly felt the all too familiar tightness in his chest.

“Yeah I I think so.” Cas lied to him before he felt his chest get even tighter and he fell back on to the floor, clutching his chest and struggling to breathe.

“Come on, Dean leave the freak. He will just be faking it as he has a crush on you and everyone knows it.” Cas heard one of Dean’s friends say before he heard him laugh and that made Cas’ heart drop and even-though he was struggling to breath he looked at Dean, worry all over his face. He also knew everyone in the corridor was staring at them.

“Fuck off, Raphael can’t you see he is having an asthma attack?” Dean shouted back before turning back to face Cas.

“Fuck… have you got your inhaler, Cas?” Dean frantically stuttered while he looked through Cas’ bag.

“No… Gabe Gabe has it” Cas struggled to say.

He saw Dean stop looking through his bag.“Well I don’t know where Gabe is, probably with Sammy and we don’t have time for that so I need to get you to the nurse NOW!!” Dean quickly replied back before picking Cas and his bag up and running to the nurse, holding on to Cas tight and ignoring the weird looks from his so called friends.

About five minutes later, both Cas and Dean were in the Nurse Harvelle’s office and she had given Cas a spare inhaler which he was still using and decided to give them both some space to talk and that’s when Dean finally decided to talk.

“Cas I’m so so sorry for bumping into you and causing an asthma attack and I apologise for fucking Raphael. He is a jerk” Dean looked down.

“Hey it’s fine. You can go back to them now if you want as they are right I’m a freak but is it true? Do you know I have a crush on you?” Cas lifted Dean’s head up and looked into his beautiful bright green eyes.

“You are definitely not a freak, Cassie” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and he bit his lip while nodding his head. “Yeah I knew you had a crush on me.” He mumbled.

Cas froze and started to get worried and scared that Dean was going to bully him over it like everyone else did. That caused him to start breathing heavily.

“You are not having another asthma attack, you are” Dean started to get really worried again as he didn’t want Cas to have another asthma attack as he cared about Cas so much and he wished he had told Cas earlier that he had a crush on him. He had since the moment he met him but he thought Cas didn’t feel the same until Raphael told him about it but he didn’t believe him until now.

“No I.. I..” Cas gulped loudly as he tried to control his breathing but just in case he took a puff of his inhaler before putting in down on the table. “I suppose you are going to bully me about the crush on you as I know you don’t feel the same.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Why would I do that, Cas?” He smiled and reached down to touch Cas’ hand which sent shivers down Cas’ spine. “When Raphael told me about the crush I didn’t believe him at first but now I do and well I’ve had a crush on you.”

Cas’ jaw dropped as he heard Dean say he also had a crush on him. “But But why me as I’m a freak” Cas stumbled over his words. He thought he passed out after that asthma attack and he was dreaming but he knew he wasn’t.

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Like I said you are not a freak and ignore those jerks like Raphael out there as they don’t know you like I do.” Dean leant in and looked at Cas. “You alright with this?”

Cas quickly nodded his head and closed the gap between them both and pulled him into a deep kiss and Dean returned it. ‘Damn he is a good kisser.’ They both thought to themselves.

They continued to kiss each other and started to touch each other. What they didn’t hear was the door open until they heard a familiar voice.

“I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT, CAS” Gabe laughed while clapping.

Cas and Dean quickly pulled apart and turned around to see both Gabe and Sam at the door, smiling and walking up to them.

“I heard what happened and only came to give you this” Gabe passed Cas his inhaler which Cas grabbed and put in his bag. “and I see you have things all sorted out.” He smirked as he put his arm around Sam.

Cas looked at Dean then back at Gabe and Sam while blushing a very deep red. “Yeah I think I do”

Sam jumped into the conversation. “I can’t fucking believe it took you bumping into Cas and making him have an asthma attack for you to finally admit your feelings.” He looked over at Dean and shook his head while chuckling.

“Hey you know me, Sammy… I’m a romantic.” Dean laughed while getting off the table and looked at Cas with a massive smile on his face.

“Right then now we are all sorted…let’s get out of here!” Gabe shouted and after Cas grabbed his bag and stood up, they all went out of the nurse’s office Gabe holding Sam’s hand and Dean holding Cas’ hand and Dean didn’t care what looks he got as he had finally got the person he had always wanted from the beginning.

Tagging people I usually tag and a couple more (I apologise if you don’t read destiel) : @lightthischickup @heavenslildevil @ackleholic96 @kittenofdoomage @oriona75 @ilostmyshoereads @aprofoundbondwithdean @spnfanficpond @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @policeofficerdean @thinkwritexpress @loveitsallineed

Destiel and all shipping fics tags from @mrswhozeewhatsis‘ tag list: @sis-tafics @skybinx-blog @deandoesthingstome @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @ferferelli @fangirling-instead-of-working @faith-in-dean @pada-ackles-reads @curliesallovertheplace @impossible-box @deansleather @faegal04 @dr-dean @cici0507 @saving-things-hunting-people @jotink78 @i-dont-know-how-to-write @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @besslincoln-bruh @shelovesallthethings @revwinchester

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #high school au #supernatural fanfic #dean x castiel #sam x gabriel #destiel #sabriel #fluff #one shot

[huntertales]

Part Two: Let’s Get a Few Things Straight. (We Need to Talk About Kevin S08E01)

Episode Summary: Two years have passed since the unexpected death of the reader. Sam and Dean Winchester have continued without their hunting partner, believing that she is gone forever. However an accidental run in on a college campus makes the boys wonder if someone they had lost has come back from the dead, the reader. Dean quickly realizes it’s her. But there’s one problem, she has no idea who she really is. Will the boys be able to get her memories back and figure out what happened? Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Temp. OFC x Reader) Word Count: 6,059.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Back in the day when you were still alive, Dean had this routine he used to do. This was when you were living at home with your days filled with endless research and the idea of hunting and saving the world as a passing thought of “What If?” before it disappeared for another day. Sam was at school and Dean was hunting with his dad, sometimes taking the odd job by himself if a case consumed John to the point where he wanted to work alone. Dean would always check up on you every few months to see how you were doing and if things were all right, but it wasn’t always announced.

He had this little habit of just following you around town, watching as you go on your daily routine and completing a list of errands. Get some groceries, stop at the post office, pick up a few new books of lore you found at the bookstore you didn’t have to learn about a new creature you thought you were never going to hunt. Every so often Dean would take you by surprise, pretending to come up for a visit when you were home from your running around town.

The smile on your face when you saw him always made him laugh, it was almost like a private joke with himself. More like the satisfaction of seeing how happy you got when you saw him. You had grown to enjoy living on your own. You kept yourself busy enough to pass the time, with mundane tasks one has to do as an adult, along with other things like reading about all sorts of different topics and watching a copious amount of TV to pass the time. And the research asked from the Winchesters was enough to fill your time in between when you were out of tasks for yourself. You might say you enjoyed living on your own, but it got lonely sometimes.

You admitted one night over dinner, tipsy from the wine you had been drinking as Dean nursed a beer, that you liked it when he was here. The house felt a little bit less scary. You still suffered from nightmares about the day you saw your mother’s dead corpse possessed by Azazel for the longest time. At times you wished that things were different and the brothers would be able to put their differences asides to be a family once in a while. You respected Sam’s urge to go to college and John’s unhealthy obsession with abandoning everyone to hunt down a monster.

You adapted to the Winchester’s ways of showing love and affection—Distance and communication every once in a while to make sure one another wasn’t dead.

You tried for so long to bite your tongue, that was, until you started hunting with the brothers and saw John and what kind of “bullcrap” he’d been putting you and the boys through. (Your words spoken in a fit of rage.) That's when the real Y/N started to come through. You were more tough, you spoke what was on your mind and you stood your ground on what you did and didn’t like. You were stubborn at times, but you meant well. You wanted nothing more than to hunt and do things that benefited the world from outside of your house. The more you spent on the road with the boys, the closer all of you became. You were the glue that kept the boys together. Dean desperately wanted you back more than ever to help fix things back together.

Despite the reunion with his brother that went more in a bitter direction than Dean pictured, the boys put asides their personal differences to work on the strange situation in front of them. Sam worked on finding any sort of paper trail made this Y/F/N Thompson a real person and any kind useful information they should know. Dean bruised himself most of the afternoon following this Y/F/N around from college to sitting in the college parking lot until about four when she emerged with an armful of papers tucked in one hand and the handle of a messenger bag draped over her shoulder. She seemed innocent enough as she waved at her fellow coworkers and smiled at what Dean presumed might have been a few of her students.

Y/F/N patted around her pockets for her cell phone she accidentally dropped after bumping into Dean, not realizing it was sitting in the man’s palm. He watched as she struggled for a minute or so until she gave up and got into her car, driving off to the first location. First stop was to pick up a dress in town and a few groceries, along with some other places. Seeing all of this made Dean feel for a moment like he was back into his old routine with you. But it was when Y/F/N went home when reality came crashing in like a freight train, making him realize the woman he had been following around for the past hour and a half wasn’t you. She was a complete stranger.  

Dean pulled into a rather modern suburban looking neighborhood, where every house looked the same and all the lawns were prestigious and green. It was the complete opposite of where you used to live. Ella, your mother, bought a house that was big and a little bit rundown, with a homeowner who wanted it off their hands. He remembered the times he used to be over when he was much younger, his father helping fix up things even if Ella protested such help. She wanted the place perfect for you. You thought it was home, the boys thought of it as their own as well when they were younger. It had been Sam’s first taste of normalcy. Ever since you had died they hadn’t even stepped foot back into that house, afraid of the memories it would bring back.

Dean called up Josh Carver on a whim to see if he could help figure out the situation that was going on. Josh thought along with everyone else that you were dead. However when Dean told him he saw someone exactly like you walking around and didn’t recognize him or Sam, Josh didn’t sound all that surprised. He gave the older Winchester a bit of information that helped shine some light on what might be really going on here. The night you were turned human you and Josh went to a local bar to let off some steam from the falling out you had with Cas. You admitted over a few drinks that you “wanted to be someone else for a change.”

“What I would do just to start over. Just for a little while. No knowledge of angels or demons...I want parents, I want to know what it feels like to be married. Hell, I want a mortgage.”

Dean had spent two grueling long years trying to come to terms with the fact that you were dead for good, but he could never lose hope, always trying to find some sort of way to bring you back. And then there was the constant guilt for thinking that all of this was his fault, if he had done something different maybe things would have changed the outcome. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t. There was only so much he could do. Dean hoped that this woman he had been watching all afternoon was the real Y/N. He wondered what he would have to do in order to get you to remember him.

What if that wasn’t a possibility? What if Cas had wiped your memory completely like he did to Lisa and Ben? Talk about opening up an old wound from the thought. Dean chose to make the Braden family forget about himself and the supernatural for their own protection. Now he wondered out of fear the angel, who wasn’t in his right mind at the time, had taken the liberty to do the same with you as well? Maybe the body that the boys and Bobby watched burned was the one your demon side had been using. And the real you was still out there, thinking she was someone else. And there was no way to change what Cas did.

It was sort of frustrating not having his two best friends here to help him with the situation. Dean felt another wave of guilt when he remembered Cas was still in Purgatory, and here he was getting angry about the fact that he wanted to see the angel and ask him a question about what he did two years to you. It was the Winchesters’ problem and they were going to have to deal with it, along with Kevin, who remained in the back of Dean’s mind. What the older Winchester was focused on right now was Y/F/N and figuring out who she was.

Dean focused his attention back to the woman and watched as she pulled into a fancy looking house and stepped out of the car. She was about ready to unload the thing she picked up and head inside, only he noticed someone come up from behind her, taking Y/F/N by surprise when the stranger wrapped his arms around her waist. Dean leaned forward in his seat slightly in caution, only it turned out to be some sort of “cute” thing couples do when he saw her quickly turn around to see a man that made her break out into a grin. You used to smile at Dean like that. And now you were doing it to someone else. Dean swallowed slightly, trying his hardest to stop himself from doing something he would ultimately regret.

The older Winchester watched as you wrapped your arms around a man he’d seen before in your social media pictures and others you had saved on your phone. Facebook said that you were married to this douche looking guy, Dean remembered his name was James. It hurt as he watched you lean forward and give a kiss to the man that wasn’t him. He wondered if this was how you felt around Lisa when you came back from the dead. This constant urge screaming in your head to jump up to your feet and tell Dean that Lisa was all wrong for him, it was you that knew him better than he knew himself. You were the only one for him. But you couldn’t. So you had to fight back your feelings. He didn’t know how you did it for that year.

Dean’s attention to the couple he was stalking was turned away for a moment when he heard his own phone going off. He answered the phone when he saw it was his brother, but his attention never left Y/F/N or that guy, his lips turning into a frown when he saw his grubby hands touching her body. She smiled when he said something and headed into the house with the belongings and disappeared from Dean's sight.

“So I did some digging and found some interesting stuff. Turns out there is in fact a real Y/F/N Thompson. Found her birth certificate, social security and driver’s license.” Sam said. “She’s been married to a James Thompson for the past six years. Only child of Louise and John Daily. Straight A student from middle school until high school, played soccer for most of her life and went to college at University of Michigan. She’s also a professor at the same college Channing goes to, which explains why we bumped into her there.”

Dean felt his stomach sink when he realized that you might be living a very real life and didn't have a clue about who you were anymore. "Great. You think Cas did a little too good of a job on erasing Y/N's brain and changed her completely?”

“You didn't let me finish. Here comes the weird part.” Sam said. His brother could almost picture the smile on his face from what his hacking abilities could dig up. “Y/F/N Thompson was in a car accident three months before Y/N died. She was hit on by a drunk driver. Unfortunately she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt, ending up going straight through the windshield and slipped into a coma. Doctors doubted she was ever going to wake up. But, low and behold, three months later, she wakes up with no memory of the accident or injuries. Louise, her mother, claimed ‘it was a miracle from God.’”

“Let me guess, family is a church going and God fearing family.” Dean muttered. Sam scoffed, giving his brother his answer. He looked over to the window when he saw a figure pass the window before vanishing from his sight again. “When did this Y/F/N wake up?”

“3:15 A.M.”

“Wait, isn’t that when—“

“Y/N was pronounced dead? Yeah. And here comes the

weird part. All of Y/F/N’s social media was created after she woke up from the coma. The only pictures I can find on the internet look like Y/N. But I hacked into the DMV and police database to see crime scene photos of the real Y/F/N. I’ll send you a few.”

Dean took his phone away from his ear and pulled up the photos his brother had send them to give them a quick look over. He saw a woman with a barely recognizable face lying on a hospital gurney with nurses and doctors surrounding her. But he could tell straight away this wasn’t you. It was the complete opposite of you in fact—from the skin color, hair, body shape. He felt a little bit more relieved as he continued the conversation with the younger Winchester.

"Okay, so let's say Y/N's really been alive this whole time pretending to be this Y/F/N. It's an interesting theory, but we've got no way of knowing if she remembers herself." Dean said. He felt a little bit of relief when he realized that you were really alive and well after all of this time. Life always had a funny way of working. But an obstacle was in the boys' way. "I mean, we can't just knock on her front door and ask if she remembers us."

"Yeah. But I found something that might work that could get us closer to her. I’m thinking if we do this, maybe we’ll jog her memory.” Sam said. “It’s a long shot, I know, but we don’t have a lot of options left here.”  

+ + +

The next morning you were up earlier than you anticipated, and alone again. You stopped being surprised at the odd hours your husband worked from his new promotion he got a few months ago. Bad guys don’t put themselves away, and they sure don’t stop when you were trying to at least have one decent date night. You had enough things to do today from stopping back at your office to meet a student to discuss their failing grade and finish up the lecture you had planned for Tuesday’s class. And you couldn’t forget your lunch date with Melody, along with swinging by your parents house quickly to discuss your father’s surprise sixth birthday party. On top of it you still needed to find your freaking phone.

You got to work on getting ready for the day and heading to your office before ten so you had enough time to swing by your local coffee shop to get a drink to wake you up. Your student was probably going to be late as per usual. They missed three of your classes already this month and they barely handed one assignment in that didn't seem like a twelve year old wrote it. You got to your office a little after you planned and settled yourself down, not the least bit surprised to see you were alone.

You went to your desk and spent the first twenty minutes answering emails from coworkers and a few of your students. You reached for your coffee as you read through an email from a student of yours, not noticing there were two strangers lingering in the doorway. It took a soft knock on the door for you to break your concentration away from your laptop screen to see a set of two men dressed in suits, their focus on you. You gave them a small smile as you pushed yourself up to your feet, wondering if they might be lost.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” You asked them.

“Are you Y/F/N Thompson?” The shorter one of the two men spoke up first, bringing your gaze over to him. You nodded your head to answer his question. You watched as they pulled out what appeared to be badges from the inside pocket of their suit jackets, making you realize they were from the FBI. "I'm Agent Dean Rorak. And this is my partner, Agent Sam Freedman. We’re investigating the disappearance of Edna White. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Of course. Have a seat, agents. I was supposed to be meeting a student of mine, but I doubt he's going to be showing up." You gave the both of them a smile as you peered out the door slightly to see there was nobody there. You ushered the men to sit as you took your seat back to your desk, shutting your laptop and moved around some papers so it appeared that you had things somewhat together. “This is a little weird, I have to admit. I'm a little bit surprised the FBI is interested in something like this. My husband—he’s a detective—said she would come back eventually.”

"Well, we take the matters of missing people very important." Agent Rorak said. You gave him a smile as you looked in his direction when he spoke, relief crossing your expression. His partner seemed the remark was a bit out of line, he cleared his throat and gave the man a bit of a dirty look, which went unnoticed by the both of you.

"So, you're Edna White's next door neighbor, is that correct?" Agent Freedman spoke up, bringing your attention over to him. You nodded your head to answer the man’s question. “And you were the one who filed her missing?”

“She's only been gone for a few days, but I don't know where she would have left without telling anyone. Her husband died a few months after my husband and I moved into the neighborhood. She has no kids. She's seventy years old with a heart condition." You said, your voice dropping into a serious tone to show your concern. "I’m just worried about her.”

“Did she seem out of character leading up to her disappearance?" Agent Freedman asked. You gave him a bit of a confused look, wondering what he meant by that. "Was she acting more hostile or violent? Like she wanted to hurt someone?"

"No. Nothing like that. But...she was acting a bit paranoid the very last time I saw her. She was acting like someone was following her.” You said, trying to remember the best of your ability. "My husband and I are quite fond of her, she’s practically family. We went to check up on her to see if she was okay, but when we did…she freaked out when she saw my husband. And on top of it she wouldn’t believe how long it had been since we saw her last.”

“Wait,” Agent Rorak stopped you, finding a piece of your story a bit interesting. “What do you mean about her being afraid of your husband?”

“Edna’s getting older. She forgets things, and I can’t tell you how many times she locked herself out of her house. Sometimes she even thinks James is her dead husband. But it wasn’t like that.” You explained the situation a bit better for them to understand. You were about to continue on to the part of the story about what happened that got you nervous, but when you thought back to the memory, your lips stretched into a faint smile from how ridiculous it sounded. “You’re gonna laugh at what I’m going to say. It’s sort of...weird.”

“Trust us,” Agent Rorak reassured you with a slight smile as he leaned forward in his seat. “We know weird.”

“Well, uh...she claimed my husband was taken over by a ‘cloud of black smoke.’ She said she saw it the day she went missing—the day she thought it still was when we checked up on her. She was shaking.” You told them the story, waiting for one of them to crack up laughing like how James and his coworkers did. However the agents sat there with a serious expression, they seemed even a little bit disturbed by what you saw. “She kept saying that he needed to get away from her, that I needed to run. He was a ‘monster with horrendous black eyes.’ Weird, right?”

“Had Edna expressed these kind of claims before she disappeared?” Agent Freedman asked you. You thought about it for a second before shaking your head. “Has she complained about the smell of rotten eggs? Flickering lights?” “She didn’t complain, but her placed did reek of it when I went to go check up on her the day I filed the report. I thought maybe it was a gas leak and she...you know, didn’t make it out. But she wasn’t there. And all of her appliances were working just fine.” You answered the man’s questions honestly, however you felt a little silly, unsure of how this could help. “And as for as the lights go, it’s been happening for the past week or so. The entire neighborhood has been going weird. We think it’s an electric problem. They’re building a new development not far from where we live.” You noticed that the two agents seemed a little uneasy from the information that you gave them, leading you to believe they must have thought you were crazy as Edna. Agent Freedman gave you a smile as he pushed himself up to his feet, you and his partner followed. “All right. I believe that should be all. You’ve been a big help, Y/F/N. I believe that should be all.” Agent Rorak pulled out something from his pocket, you noticed it was a business card with his number printed on the front. He handed it over, “If you happen to see or hear anything—even remember anything, don’t hesitate to contact us.”

“Of course.” You agreed, examining the card for a moment before looking back up at him to give the man a reassuring smile. “Have a good day, agents. And thanks again for this. It really means a lot you’re taking this seriously.” The two men returned the gesture before they showed themselves out to the hallway so you could get back to work. Dean was just outside when he saw someone come straight out from the corner of his eye, heading straight for your office. He stepped back in time when he noticed the student you were supposed to have met fifteen minutes ago came sprinting into the room, apologizing left and right about being late. You let out a sigh and showed your discontent with his tardiness. Never less, you gestured a hand for him to sit down where Dean was just a moment ago, the both of you getting back to your business of why you were here this morning.   “Sounds like demon possession to me.” Sam said, making sure to keep his voice no higher than a whisper as he discussed the matters with his brother. “You think Crowley found out Y/N’s alive somehow? Decided to have one of his goons jump the husband just to make sure?” “Old lady sees him get possessed, freaks out and doesn’t show her face for a while. Y/N, being the good samaritan she is, checks up on her to see if she’s all right. But when she opens her mouth, demon gets afraid Y/N might start remembering so he kills Edna to keep her quiet.” Dean tried guessing what was going on here from the story you told him and the younger Winchester. He peered inside the office to see you were deep in conversation with your student, having no clue what was going on. “I’ll tell you one thing, I’m not letting her out of my sight.”

+ + +

It was the late afternoon when you finally got home from your somewhat successful meeting with your student and lunch with your friend that turned into a shopping trip to spend money of things you really didn't need. You made your way into the house and dropped the bags by the front door, deciding you would take care of them in a little while. You headed into the kitchen to grab yourself something to drink. As you made your way into the next room, you smiled when you saw a familiar face sitting at the island, drinking what smelled to be coffee.

“Hi, honey.” You greeted the man you thought you knew so well and loved, the smile across your lips grew wider as you reminisced about the night you spent with him what was hours ago. You leaned down to give him a quick peck on the lips before you went to the countertop where you smelled the freshly brewed coffee calling your name. “How was your day?” “It was just terrific.” James said. You looked over your shoulder as you gave him another smile from his answer. The man brought the coffee cup to his lips to take another drink as he watched you turn your back to him, missing the smug smirk that began to spread across his lips. You asked him what put him in such a good mood. "It's work related. You see, my boss has been bugging everyone nonstop about this...well, let’s call her a criminal who has friends in a lot of high places who tried to hide her. Real nasty bitch. And I finally found you.” You found yourself stopping midway through pouring yourself a cup of coffee when you heard a series of words coming out of your husband’s mouth that sounded awfully unlike him. You slowly looked over your shoulder to see your husband was standing on his feet now with that smug smirk on his lips that seemed permanently frozen on his face. When you looked into his eyes, you felt the grip around the coffee pot slowly slip out, the glass crashed to the countertop, breaking into tiny pieces when you saw those...eyes. The ones Edna had warned you about.

In the house next to yours, the Winchesters made true to their promise of not straying too far from where you went, however they decided to check out Edna White's house while they were, curious to see if what Dean suspected what was going on was true. The boys wandered through the home, searching for some sort of clue that you might have missed while you searched. While the house didn't show any signs of a break in or a struggle, not even a drop of blood, it didn't mean that one took place. Demons might be bastards, but they knew how to be tricky.

Dean searched in a few closets and peered down to the basement to see if he might be able to find anything. He headed into the kitchen and poked his nose around while his brother took the living room. When the older Winchester noticed a shut door he hadn't seen before, he cautiously stepped forward to open up the door, and when he did, the very thing that he had been looking for appeared, dropping at his feet. Dean let out a quiet sigh when he saw the face of one Edna White, throat slashed from ear to ear, a fine yellow powder scattered across the pantry floor.

"Sam," Dean called out his brother's name. "I found her.”

The younger Winchester stepped back into the kitchen to see the sight that he had been silently dreading to see, an old woman who had been viciously killed, probably for a while from the awful decomposing smell coming off from her body. Seeing her dead body meant one thing, what she had tried to warn you about might have been true. Sam took his gaze away from the dead body for a moment when he heard something echo in the air, it sounded like a scream. He furrowed his brow as he looked out the kitchen window. Sam noticed right away he had a perfect view of the house next door, which was yours. “James, don’t scare me like that!” You screamed on the top of your lungs, your petrified expression changed quickly into anger when you felt your skin starting to burn from the coffee you accidentally spilled on yourself at what you saw. The liquid wasn’t scolding hot, but it was still hot enough to make your skin burn, quickly making you rush to turn on the faucet sink. “God, I think I burnt myself. You’re just an ass, sometimes. You know that?” You were about to put your burnt hand underneath the cold water, but before you could, you felt someone roughly grab a hold of the tender skin, squeezing it while they turned you around. James yanked you so you were looking at him, you noticed right away that his eyes were back to normal. "Do you know how long we all thought you were dead, Y/N?” “James, let go of me.” You ordered at your husband, unsure of what was going on with him. It was like a switch in him changed. You’ve never seen him like this before. Sometimes he pulled pranks to scare you for fun, but nothing like this. All you knew was that your hand was throbbing now in pain from how hard he was holding you. You tried to get yourself free, but he only squeezed the flesh harder. “You’re hurting me.” "This hurts?" James asked you in a mockingly sympathetic tone. He roughly squeezed the burned flesh, making you let out a noise that made his smile grow wider. “Oh, baby. This is foreplay compared to what Crowley has got in store for you after what you did, Y/N.”

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You questioned the man in a shaky voice. “James, seriously. “What has gotten into you?”

"Wow. Castiel really did a good job of scrambling up your brain, didn't he? You don't recognize my kind, baby?" James wasn't making any sense here. You furrowed your brow in confusion as the throbbing pain in your wrist started to slowly weaken. When you saw your husband blink, you found yourself letting out a terrified gasp, somehow his eyes transformed into the same pair of inky black eyes that made a shiver run down your spine. "I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Hey, you ugly ass son of a bitch.” A male voice came from behind you, taking the both of you by surprise. Suddenly you felt the grip around your arm disappear, only to be replaced when James grabbed a knife from the sink, the sharpest one you owned, and pressed the blade against the hollow point of your throat.  You felt James’ arm wrap around your body, pinning your arms to your side so you wouldn’t fight back. You were too afraid to breathe from how close the knife was. Your eyes wandered over to a familiar face you saw just earlier this morning standing in your kitchen, a loaded gun pointing at your husband. It was Agent Rorak. At least, that’s who you thought it was.

“Dean Winchester. Well, what a surprise!” James greeted the hunter with a smile as he blinked, showing off the set of malevolent eyes the man knew that belonged to only a demon. “How the hell are you, man?” “Pissed off.” Dean replied. “If you know what’s good for you, I’d suggest you let her go.” The demon pretended to think about the request for a moment before he responded, “Nah. Crowley has been looking for her for a while. If I let you and Y/N run off into the sunset, my ass is on the line. And you don’t want to be on his bad side.” "Do I look like I give a rat’s ass what your piss poor king wants? I just spent a year slaughtering my way through monsters. Do you really want to me on my bad side? I'll say it again." Dean narrowed his eyes on the demon as he repeated his order one more time for him to understand. “Let her go, you son of a bitch.”

“You know, you got yourself a fine girl, Dean. Too bad she doesn’t remember you. Hell, she doesn’t remember anything. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” The man you thought to be your husband suddenly felt like a stranger. You winched when you felt him lean his head down so his lips were hovering over your ear, making you want to do just about anything to get away from him. Dean could feel his grip around the gun tighten in anger. “Took us a while to find her. But I must say, the hunt was worth the wait. I could have dragged her to Crowley the moment I jumped this meat suit, but then I thought, 'Nah. Let's stick around. See how good she's in the sack.’“ “Wow.” Dean pretended not to be fazed by what the demon said. “Do you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth of yours?” “No. But I’d gladly kiss your mother’s with it.” The demon replied back with a smik. “Speak of family, where’s that brother of yours? I know if there’s one Winchester, there’s always another.”

The demon should have been careful about what he asked for. You felt the blade press closer against your neck from what unfolded next, but it barely grazed the skin before it disappeared, along with James’ hold around your body. You stumbled forwards when you suddenly heard the sound of something heavy hit the ground. Looking down to your feet, you noticed it was your husband, standing over his body was the agent you had seen earlier as well. You noticed that he was holding a knife, too. But it looked like any other one that you had ever seen before.

You felt frozen in your spot for a moment as your brain tried to comprehend what the hell just happened. Your wrist was throbbing in pain from the burn that was neglected as you realized your husband flipped a switch. He kept calling you, Y/N...he tried to kill you. You inhaled a deep breath as you slowly lifted your good hand to your throat where James had pressed a knife against. One second his eyes were black, and then they were normal. And then there was talk of demons. You furrowed you brow as you continued to stare at the dead body bleeding out on your kitchen floor. But you slowly looked away when you heard someone speak up.

"It's gonna be okay." You looked up to see that it was Dean who was speaking words of comfort as he lowered his gun. But you couldn't hear what he was saying. The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears. "We're not here to hurt you..."

You weren't sure who the two men were standing in your kitchen, you didn't know what the hell was going on anymore. All you knew that you suddenly felt yourself growing lightheaded. You moved one foot forward to try and take a seat somewhere before you could pass out. The logical side of you was trying to tell you to run, but another part of you felt safe. You only managed to move a single step before you felt your knees give out. You felt your vision grow black before you fell into the arms of Dean, not realizing what other mess you were about to wake up to.

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[huntertales]

Part Three: Night of the Living Dead. (Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid S05E15)

Episode Summary:  Sam, Dean and the reader investigate Bobby’s home town where the dead are rising from the grave but instead of attacking humans, they are happily reuniting with their families. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 3,772.

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The truth was always a hard thing to say, and another struggle to get yourself to believe in. But it was there. And he was going to have to do what he will with it. You and the boys arrived back at Bobby’s house a little after the sun set with a bit of unsettling news. After you told Dean about the encounter with Ezra Jones, it was all downhill from here. The man was about ready to barge through the front door of the Singer household and blow Karen’s brains out right in front of her husband. You managed to talk him off the ledge and convinced him into at least talking to Bobby to explain what was going on here. You knew it was only going to be a matter of time until Sioux Falls turned into a remake of 'Night of the Living Dead' if all of you didn't put a stop to this.

“Keep your damn voices down.” Bobby warned you, not giving you such a warm welcome when you followed him into the library after telling him you had not so good news. He was more concerned about his wife and hurting her feeling if she happened to overhear something that might offend her. “Karen’s upstairs.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We’re just a little tense right now.” Dean hissed at the man, not in the mood to be on polite terms with the man. You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a faint sight, not prepared for the conversation you were about to have with Bobby. “Who’s old lady Jones?”

“The first one to come up.” Bobby answered.

“First one to go bad.” You said.

“Ah, she was always a nutty broad.” Bobby muttered, shrugging off your words.

“Nutty how? Nutty like the way she ate her husband’s stomach out? Or maybe she’s nutty in the sense of she tried to take a bite out of me.”You wondered, raising a brow slightly to drive your point to what was going on here. “Was that the level of nutty she was in life?”

Bobby fell silent for a moment from what you said, “No.”  

“Look, Bobby, I feel for you.” Dean said, trying his hardest to be empathetic to the man the best way that he could while he tried hiding Frankenstein’s monster from the angry crowd. “But you have got to acknowledge that you’re not exactly seeing this straight!”

“Bobby, whether you admit it or not, these things are turning.” Sam said, following Bobby as he began wheeling himself across the room until he was now staring at you again from a farther distance. “We have to stop them—all of them.”

Bobby wasn't in the mood anymore to hear what you or the boys had to say about this situation. You glanced down when you noticed his hand disappeared underneath his leg, to pull out something that you weren't expecting to see, as things seemed to have escalated quickly. "Time to go." He told you simply, not seeming to feel the least bit guilty when he pointed a fully loaded gun in your direction. The boys stiffened in discomfort, not sure of what the man was going to do when his finger hovered over the trigger. You, however, let out what sounded like a chuckle as your lips stretched into a smirk at what he was doing. “You think this is funny, Y/N? You heard me. Off my property.”

“Or what?” You asked him. “You’ll shoot us?”

“If Karen turns, I will handle it—my way.” Bobby said, not leaving the conversation up for discussion again. Dean tried to warn the man about what kind of dangerous situation he was putting himself in, Bobby lifted his finger to cock the gun, giving his response of what he thought about your concern for him. "I'm not telling you twice."

You stared at Bobby for a moment, wondering if he really was going to do this, and from the deadpan stare he was giving you, the man wasn't about to bend for his wife. You scoffed from what he was doing. You muttered underneath your breath about how dramatic men could be. He wouldn't ever shoot you, no matter how much he tried putting on this tough act, but you listened to him anyway. If Bobby wanted to go out like this, being left as a snack for his soon to be rabid wife, fine. Let him. You had an entire town to worry about.

+ + +

“He’s crazy.”

You and the boys managed to get outside of the property before Dean was speaking once more about his distaste for what Bobby was doing. He was choosing the woman that had died decades ago over the people that he was closest to. The man had practically raised the boys, called all three of you his own children from what he had been through these past handful of years. You were a bit bitter about what Bobby was doing, but you decided to let him simmer down. You had a bit of time until Karen could turn into a Stepford housewife with a taste for human flesh. The man might be in a wheelchair, but it didn't mean he was powerless. Sam tried to look at the bigger picture right now. There was an entire town that was harboring zombies, just waiting to attack.

“It's his wife, Dean.” You reminded the older Winchester, knowing too damn well he would have done the same thing if you or Sam were put in that position like Karen was.

“So he goes ’Full Metal Jacket’ on us?” Dean asked, you rolled your eyes from his reaction that was all too like him. “We're his family, Y/N.”

“Look, man. Bigger fish, okay?” Sam reminded his older brother about what you were dealing with here. “I mean, we got a bunch of zombies about to turn this town into a giant chew toy.”

“Yeah, and he's alone in the house making pie with one of 'em!” Dean shouted, not being able to keep his frustration hidden any longer. Sam raised his toe slightly, wondering exactly what he was trying to get at here, and how he was going to handle this situation. “So! I'm gonna have to go back there and… and… and kill her. That's the only thing I can think of.”

“If he sees you, you're a dead man.” You reminded him, trying to poke a hole into his master plan.

“Well, then, I guess I won't let him see me.” Dean said with a confident tone, as if it was going to be that easy for him.

“Well, I hate to you this to you Sammy, but...you mind going into town on your own? I need to make sure your idiot brother doesn't get himself killed by the end of the night.” You said. You weren't happy yourself with how the plan was working out, you furthered your point by looking Dean straight in the eye with an annoyed look. “You're gonna need some help. Hey, what about the sheriff?”

“Uh,” Sam gave you a confused look from whom you had suggested to be his backup. He wasn't exactly pleased himself, wanting you to join in on the fun he was about to get into, but he knew his brother, the man didn't always think logically. “last time I checked, the sheriff was pretty pro-zombie, Y/N.”

“You're just gonna have to convince her.” You said.

“How?”

“I don't know. You're just gonna.”

+ + +

You really should have been with Sam at this point of the night when Sioux Falls was at the very brink of a possible zombie overtake. But you were holding onto that little fraction of hope that maybe none of this will end out terribly. You were hoping for a sunny day when it kept raining on and on. You cocked back the shotgun and made sure it was fully loaded before slipping a few more rounds of ammunition into your jacket pocket. Dean busied himself by putting a few more bullets into the chamber of the gun, not seeming to notice that your attention drifted to the house to take a final look at it from the distance that you parked. Bobby was inside the house with his wife, just wanting this little moment of his to keep on going. He was lying over a bomb, not caring that it was going to explode at any second and kill him.

"Could you do it?" You asked the older Winchester out of the blue.

Dean looked up from the shotgun and gave you a bit of a confused look, "Do what, exactly?"

"Say you were in Bobby's position. If you realized the colt could kill Lucifer—that you could prevent the entire world from going up into flames, would you do it?" You asked him out of a dark curiosity. Dean didn't seem to think twice about that question. He let out a bit of a chuckle as he got his shotgun ready for use. That was what all three of you were doing, trying to stop the Devil and save the world. But you weren't done with your question. "If you honestly found a way to kill the Devil—and if you knew it could take me down with him, too—would you do it?"

It was a simple question. Hell, it was a theory that could be a possibility in the near future. All of you had known what the consequences would be if you found a way to stop Lucifer once and for all. You seen it what felt like an entire lifetime ago, even though it’d been a few months. Dean had tried to shoot Lucifer straight in the head with the colt, and while the three of you had been lured into believing that the fight was over, it was just the beginning. You had learned the hard way that if you wanted to take down the bloody devil, his better half was going with him. Dean looked away from you when he heard the words ring inside his head again. He tried so hard to forget that little fact. But you brought it back, and made him wonder for a second about this. He tried to use the excuse that you were different, that you weren’t rapidly turning into a monster like Karen could be. Yet he’d be lying if you were just fine. It was the moral dilemma of killing one to save them all. Could Dean do it if the possibility dropped into his lap?

The both of you were struck out of your personal thoughts when you heard a gunshot go off, the color in your face drained at the thought of what might have happened. Neither of you wasted a second in bolting for the house, needing to know what was going on. Dean picked the lock in just a few seconds flat before the door swung open and he called out the man’s name. You followed behind on his heels and looked around to see where Bobby could have been. The two of you headed inside the library to see a sight you wouldn’t have expected to find so soon. You stopped in your tracks and lowered your gun.

Bobby sat at his wife’s side while she laid on the makeshift he made for her. While it seemed like a sight that seemed like any other, it was the gun that he held and the blood splattered pillow that made you realized what happened. Karen had felt herself starting to turn, and to be sure that she couldn’t hurt her husband like she did before, Bobby killed her, all over again. You could feel your heartbeat pound a little bit harder when the man looked away from his wife and to you and Dean. If there was ever a moment that you saw Bobby at his weakest, this...this was that exact moment you would never forget.

+ + +

There was time and place to mourn the loss of his wife, but tonight was not one of them. You were a bit surprised when Bobby snapped out of his grief long enough to make a plan of what to do. Sam was out there alone and he needed all the help he could get. You stood outside with Bobby at your side and Dean loaded up the van with all the supplies you would need. As you looked around the junkyard for any possible zombies roaming around where they shouldn’t be, you found yourself staring back at the heartbroken Bobby. He could say all he wanted that he was fine, but you could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t going to be okay for a while.

“You know,” You struck up a conversation, bringing the older man’s attention to you as he broke himself out his concentration on no particular space. “If you want to sit this one out…”

Bobby was tempted for a moment at letting himself not take on such a big fight. But the man couldn’t go back into that house with his wife just lying there. He looked at you from the corner of his eye and gave you his answer, “Let’s just get going.”

Dean decided that answer was good as any. He tossed the last bag into the back of the truck and proceeded to start closing the first door and reached out his hand to close the second, but before he could, a distant sound coming from beyond in the junkyard caught your attention. He stopped for a moment and cautiously looked over his shoulder, he had a feeling that wasn’t just a raccoon looking for food. Dean reached for his shotgun again and turned on his flashlight. He looked over at you, and with a simple command to keep a look out, the man ventured off into the darkness to figure out what could have made that sound.

You thought that it could have been nothing, but you were prepared for the worst in this kind of situation. You and Bobby waited for a minute as things seemed to have grown nothing but silent, all you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat and breathing that turned into smoky breaths from the cold winter night. Both of you cautiously tried peeking through the cracks of the crushed cars to see if you could find out what was going on when you heard an unsettling noise disrupt your silence. That’s when you saw it, a shadow that wasn’t Dean’s when you called out the man’s name. When you caught sight of a trespasser, you aimed your gun and tried to take a shot at it, but you missed.

You turned your head just in time to see a zombie come out of nowhere, but Bobby was quicker than you, he pointed his gun and took a shot, blowing the person’s skull right off. You could see that you were about to get surrounded, and no matter how many times you called out Dean’s name, he wouldn’t respond. So, like the crazy idiot that you were, you told Bobby to hold things down as you ventured into the wild, getting ready to kill some zombies in the process. You had managed to take down at least three before you found Dean, struggling to fight off Clay Thompson who had claimed he wasn’t a zombie, but he sure looked it from the way that he was desperately trying to eat the older Winchester. WIth Dean on his back and struggling to get his gun, you pointed the barrel of your own and pulled the trigger, blowing Clay’s head right off.

Dean could thank you later for what you did, but right now you had left Bobby alone, and knowing your mind, it jumped to the worse case scenario. You and the Winchester headed back to the van to see that Bobby was better off than you thought with at least two zombies on the ground missing most of their head. But he was in a bit of a bind when he was lying on the ground trying to fight off another hungry zombie. Dean snuck from behind and pulled the trigger, saving the man from becoming tonight's dinner.

"Little help here?" Bobby asked, not sure what the two of you were doing a few seconds after the zombie dropped dead.

You mumbled an apology as you let the gun slip out from your grip for just a second to help Dean get the man back to his chair, but it was the worst time to put your guard down. When Bobby was secure again, you took notice that at least two zombies were coming out of nowhere, along with a few other friends. You hissed a few curse words underneath your breath as you didn't waste a second aiming for any possible headshots that would give you. But unlike the stupid horror movies, these things moved fast. Dean listened to you when you told him to get Bobby inside as you followed not that far behind, wasting your ammunition on wasted shots as the three of you got yourselves back inside the house.

“Got anymore ammo?” Dean asked. He slammed the door behind him and checked to see how many more rounds he had left. But it didn’t look pretty. “I’m low.”

“Yeah, we got plenty.” Bobby answered him. “Just run back past the zombies. It’s in the van where we left it.”

“A simple ‘no’ would have been fine.” You muttered underneath your breath. Being the smartest person in the room, you managed to stuck at least a few more rounds into your jacket. You loaded up what you could and hoped that it would be enough to get yourself out there and grab what you needed before coming back. “What the hell are they doing here, anyway?!”

“I think I get it.” Bobby said.

Before the man could tell you why, the moment was rudely interrupted by someone making the effort to jump through the first story window and make his grand appearance. You let out a scoff and aimed your gun, pulling the trigger on the man before he could do something stupid. Dean  looked over to the top the staircase when he heard one come from upstairs. He took his final shot at another one. While the men announced they were empty, you rolled your eyes from how situation kept growing worse. You nodded your head for the back of the house, you needed to get somewhere that was free of windows or entrances to the outside. You followed behind as the two men began heading for the kitchen, but another zombie made his grand entrance by jumping through the window. You pulled the risky move of wasting what ammunition you had left of your own so the three of you could make it to safety. But they kept coming.

One jumped through a window, another broke the small window to the door to try and unlock it so they could sneak themselves through. It took at least two more shots before you were all out of bullets, rendering the three of you helpless. Somehow, if by some miracle, you found yourself being backed into a closet and thrown into pitch darkness as the numbers of bodies began to grow. Dean managed to slam the door before someone could get hurt. You quickly found the string that connected to the light, and with a quick tug, you could finally see at least a foot in front of you. Your back was pressed against the wall and Bobby’s wheelchair was nearly crushing your leg as Dean’s elbow was awkwardly pressed against your side.

“Kind of a tight fit, don’t you think?” You wondered, trying to push off Dean best as you could get any sort of room you could get in here.

“It’s all right. They’re idiots.” Dean reassured you. “They can’t pick a lock.”

It seemed that from their constant pounding, they could hear the fabulous idea that Dean had given him. You could feel a sense of panic wash over you at how everything dropped silent for a moment, and just like that, you watched as the doorknob began to slowly twist back and forth. You reached out your arm to roughly slam your fist against the man's arm. "You idiot!" You hissed at him. "Don't you ever get tired of being wrong?"

"I'm making this stuff up as I go, Y/N." Dean said. "Sue me."

If you somehow made it out alive of this situation, you were going to do far worse things to him than just that. You inhaled a deep breath as you watched them slowly undo the lock, and before you knew it, you were facing the crowd of more than half a dozen zombies that wanted nothing more than to eat your flesh. You and Dean tried to fight your way out by hitting them hard as you could in the skull, but that wasn’t good enough. They just brushed it off like nothing and pushed harder to try and get a bite. While you were thinking that this might be the end, you heard a familiar voice shout something, all before you felt Dean push you to the ground. After that, you heard a fire of gunshots go off.

Bodies dropped to the ground like flies, one after the other, Sam took them down with a bit of help that he gotten into town. It only took less than a minute before things had returned back to what you could resume normal. Bobby’s house was covered in blood and had at least a dozen or so dead bodies lying around his property. But you were alive. When it was safe, you began to push yourself to your feet. You peered over the doorframe to see that it was Jody Mills, the sheriff who, not too long ago, had thrown the three of you in jail thinking that your talk about zombies was absurd. But here she stood with a shotgun and a look on her face that didn’t make you feel the least bit good about this situation.

"Are you okay?"

The question could have been simply answered with a yes, but you wondered. In the span of just a few hours Sioux Falls was turned upside down. Bobby had to shoot his own wife, Jody heard the gunshot that took her only son's life as Sam was the unfortunate soul that had to do that terrible deed.

“Define okay, Sammy.”

Rewrite Taglist: @deansquirreljerkwinchester@lotsofspnshitposts@everything-i-tried-was-taken @starswirlblitz @albot-e@supernaturalismydrug @we-are-band-sexuals@cleo-is-my-doggy @eeyore1988 @kaylinfayezink@owhatshername1@kgbrenner@princessofhorrors (Message me if you would like to be added!)

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[huntertales]

Part Two: Just Go With it. (Swap Meat S05E12)

Episode Summary: A teenage nerd conjures and body switching spell and changes bodies with Sam. But it’s more than just a bad version of “Freaky Friday” for you and the boys when you find out the purpose behind all of it. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 3,903.

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Who the hell was Gary Frankel?

Sam spent all morning trying to figure out the answer to that very important question. He searched through every spot he could find, from the shelves full of comic books and other little toys that he kept in mint condition in a hard plastic container. He crouched down to see the bottom shelf was dedicated to all sorts of notebooks and binders. Pulling out the two biggest ones, Sam read what the kid had labeled them as. One was for “Advanced Placement Chemistry 12” and the other was “Advanced Placement Psychics 12.” It seemed Gary was a bit of a scientific whiz to be taking two very challenging AP classes at the same time during his senior year when most of his classmates would be complaining about senioritis. Sam headed over to the closet to see if he could find any sort of things buried in the back. But all he found was array of hoodies and tshirts dedicated to his favorite sci-fi related media, mostly just Star Wars. Sam scoffed and shoved the hanger back into the closet. It wasn’t hard to conclude the kid was a virgin, for sure.

Moving to underneath the bed, where all kids hid stuff from their nosy parents, Sam pulled out a slim box and dropped it to the comforter. He took off the top and tossed it to the pillows, not really caring where it had landed, he looked down at the contents inside of the box, unsure of what he was going to find. Sam raised his brow slightly to see one of the first things that was lying on top, probably ready for a teenage boy’s disposal for whenever he might need it. He didn’t think skin mags were still a thing with the younger youth. But there laid a copy of “Busty Asians Beauties” with a young woman’s smiling face on the cover. Sam made a correction from what he had prior thought about the kid. He was a very frustrated virgin.

Sam didn't care for it as he tossed it out to the open as he continued his search through all sorts of crap that Gary kept privately hidden. There was a planner that had what looked to be important dates, a saved newspaper and a baseball. But there was one thing that was lying on top that caught Sam's attention. It was something not every teenage boy would have hidden with his porn. Sam pulled out a what appeared to be a dagger, but with a closer inspection, it was very much in fact a athame. And the black cloth wrapped around it was something that but it was the black cloth sent the red flag to what could be going on here only higher. A sigh fell from the man's lips as he laid out the sheer thin blanket to take an inspection of the markings he'd seen. It was pretty clear that this was an alter, but not just any ordinary one from the goat's head that laid in the middle of the pentagram. Gary was more than just a closeted wiccan. The kid was dabbling in black magic, and he wouldn't know the consequences of his actions before it was too late.

"Witchcraft, huh, Gary?" Sam muttered underneath his breath as he shook his head in disapproval from what the kid was doing in his free time. The little freak was running around, pretending to be him, which Sam still had yet to figure out why Gary had chosen him. Not to mention, you or Dean probably haven’t gotten the twenty messages he’d left you to try and explain what was going on. Or maybe you didn’t believe him that a seventeen year old kid would have wanted to trade places with him. "You little Satanic bastard."

“Gary! Breakfast!”

“Leave me alone.” Sam whispered as tossed the alter fabric to the bed. He ignored the command from the kid’s mother. After getting a taste of them last night, Sam had enough of Gary’s parents for a lifetime. They were overbearing, awkward when they tried to punish him for wandering out half the night, and sure didn’t believe it when their oldest son had told them they weren’t his son. There was no way that Sam was going to be sitting through breakfast with those people. He tried to continue on his search, but Mrs. Frankel was insisting on him coming down after she called for him, and this time, even louder. Sam dropped his hands to the bed and let out a frustrated sigh. If he was going to try and figure out this problem without causing too much suspicion, Sam realized that he was going to have to pretend and be this Gary Frankel, much as the thought of being with that family pained him. This was just he would have to put up with on this very, very long day. “All right, I’m coming!”

+ + +

"So, uh, where we going, again?"

"To work. The case...?"

You let out a yawn from the lack of sleep you had managed to get, thanks to Sam's shenanigans, that caused you to spend half the night looking for him and then relocate after finding out he was in the motel. It seemed he was keeping up this out of person act from the question he thought was appropriate to ask you before you even had a sip of your caffeine fix. You were hoping for at least just a few hours of sleep before you embarked on the very long day. You and the boys were going to have to travel on foot through most of the graveyards in town to find this body. And maybe if Sam had shown up when he was supposed to, you could have done a bit more research with him. But here you were, strolling to the Impala after getting settled into the new motel just after the sun had rose a little while ago. You brought the cup to your lips and stared at the man to your very left, hoping he would notice your annoyed glare as he tried to act like he knew what Dean was talking about after he answered the man’s question.

"Oh, right. Yeah—the case. Of course." Sam said. He managed to save himself when he nodded his head, managing to ask a question that was relevant to where the three of you were heading to. You or Dean would never realize what was going on. "Where, uh, do you guys want to start?"

“Well, since you or Y/N couldn’t find where Maggie Briggs was buried, now we have to do an all day tombstone roll.” Dean explained the plan to his little brother. “To see if we can dig her up.”

“Wait. Maggie Briggs? You mean, like—like the witch Maggie Briggs?” Sam asked, as if you were talking about someone completely different. You stopped right next to the backseat of the Impala and looked straight at the man from the other side of the car. All though you would have loved to give him a sarcastic reponse to throw him off his game, you just nodded your head. “Yeah, she’s in the basement.”

“Come again, Sherlock? What basement?” You asked the younger man with a bit of confusion, wondering where this new information had came from when you had struggled to find anything new. Or why he didn’t bring it up last night when you called him after he left the library. “I searched for hours and didn’t read anything about a basement. I thought he hung her.”

"She's buried in Isaiah Pickett's house. There's the legend that says he hung her, but he didn't." Sam said, correcting you on what you thought you’d known about this case. “The real truth is that she was carrying his illegitimate child, and he killed her and than buried her in the basement.”

“Her ‘murdered chylde.’ That would explain the scratches.” You muttered underneath your breath as you looked over at Dean. The words that were cut into Katie’s stomach where on her stomach, giving an indication that Maggie wasn’t trying to hurt her, but give a message about her unborn child that was harmed because of this man. Sam might have been onto something that could shut this case for good. But there was something bothering about how he obtained the information so quickly.  “Wait, how do you know all of this?”

“Oh, I’ve done all kinds of research on it.” Sam said with a growing smile, something he always did when he discussed any sort of new information he could share with you. But you raised your brow and looked at him suspiciously, giving Gary, the real kid just walking in the man’s skin, just mere seconds to cover his tracks before you could question him. “I mean, you know...last night.”

"You said on the phone last night that you couldn't find anything." You pointed out to the younger man, calling him out on the mistake that he made. You narrowed your eyes on his from his suspicious behavior as you brought the cup to your lips to take a drink. "Right after you told me you were leaving the library."

"Yeah...Yeah, I did that." Sam said. He was thrown off guard from your accusation that could have been true or not, Gary wondered if you were trying to throw him off, but he remembered seeing Sam talking on the phone when he cut his way through the park. That’s when he made his move. The teen felt confident when he decided to go with it and make up some excuse, hoping it would be enough for you to stop staring at him that was making him grow uncomfortably nervous. "But I remembered. There was this book, you see, not a lot of people know about it, and I forgot about it. I went back to see if it was still there and that’s where I found all about the basement. That's what took me so long getting back, too."

You shifted your gaze away from the younger man and to the oldest Winchester standing next to you, who was a bit skeptical himself, but the excuse seemed like something his brother would do. Sam was always a stickler about research when he gotten a lead that was hot, sometimes he forgot about the real world around him. "Yeah. Nice work...I guess." Dean said slowly, seeming to have fallen for the lie, as his mind focused on one little detail of his brother’s mistake. “Just pick up the phone next time, will you?”

"Definitely. Won't happen again." Sam agreed, admitting his mistakes.

You watched as Dean brushed off the incident as nothing more than a simple mistake of his little brother's nerdy behavior by getting himself into the Impala, trusting himself to be alone with the man. Sam opened up the passenger side door, but before he got into his spot next to his brother, he found you still staring at him with that same questionable look. And just like last night in the motel room, Sam acted differently when Dean wasn't around. He thought a friendly smile would have helped ease your mind that the man was feeling himself. Instead it was more along the lines of something that was more of an attempt to be flirty. You wouldn't deny that Sam was a handsome man, the Winchesters didn't lack the bad genes in that family. He could have any woman he wanted with that winning smile of his alone. But this...this was way out character.

His smile was like he was trying his hardest to win you over, but all it came off was like some teenage boy attempt to try and talk to his crush. Your mouth parted open slightly, that urge again to call him out on his weird behavior, but you clenched your fists and swallowed down the feeling, hoping this was your mind playing tricks on you, making you see things that weren’t really there. You slipped yourself into the backseat once more, keeping yourself quiet and averting your gaze away from the rear view mirror, trying to shake the urge before Dean could ask why you looked like you were about to punch someone in the face. The man brushed off the sour expression on your face, thinking it was due to the lack of sleep, and started up the car when Sam slammed the door shut. As the engine roared to life again, the radio Dean had been listening to last night turned back on to some classic rock song that Sam usually wouldn’t be in the mood to hear. Instead, of complaining about it, Sam did the exact opposite of what you expected from him.

“Aw, man, turn it up!” Sam shouted with a grin, eager to hear the song. Dean shifted his head slightly to look at his little brother with a baffled look. He had never expected those words to have ever come out from the man’s mouth, but there he sat in the passenger side, moving in tune with the beat of the rock song. You furrowed your brow as you stared at the younger man. Dean had asked him if he was serious just to be sure. “Hell yeah!”

You expected Dean to catch on to the usual behavior that was being shown in the younger Winchester. Sam wasn't the type to disappear for hours without telling you or let the maids into the room for cleaning. Sam knew how precious Baby was to Dean, and all though he didn't drive all the time, he knew how to handle a vehicle without making the rooky mistake of checking the gears. He hated old classic rock songs he didn't grow up listening to, and he sure didn't have the balls to try and overstep his boundaries with you. All signs, despite them being tiny, were there to tell you something was seriously wrong. But his brother brushed it off like all of this was just the ordinary cycle of things. Or he would have made a remark the younger man just finally learned how to get the stick that was far wedged up his ass finally out.

+ + +

The three of you arrived back at the house after getting the lead from Sam that he decided not to tell you about it until this morning. After granting yourself access to the place from the key Donna had left you, the boys followed behind as you made your way to the basement. If Sam was right about this, you could at least thank him for cutting the hunt much shorter than what you were expecting. You reached out a hand to balance yourself on the rickety steps as you descended down to the lower level the house while the flashlight you were holding helped guide you through the darkness. As you made your way down and began walking deeper into the room with Dean following behind, you took notice of the cobwebs of the place and all sorts of things that were collecting dust over the years, probably from previous owners. But you found your search cut off for a moment when you turned your head to look over your shoulder, wondering what had gotten into Sam from his sudden outburst.

“Boo-yah!” Sam shouted as he inappropriately waved around the shotgun to no possible threat in front of him. From the smile on his face, Sam was having the time of his life, acting as if this was his first time going on a salt and burn. “Master chief is in the house, bizatches?”

“Are you all right?” You stopped in your tracks and looked at the man dead in the eye. He nodded his head, telling you that he was fine. You furrowed your brow as you looked at him with more of a concerned expression. But again, you tried brushing off the feeling like something was off with him today, you had important things going on. You headed for the far end of the basement to see what you were expecting to. In a small patch of dirt laid a small bed of moss, your flashlight grazed over it, lighting up the pale green color. “Well, I’ll be damned. Willow moss.”

"Yeah, right. It's, uh, supposed to grow over witches' graves, right?" Sam asked, almost as if he wasn't sure the information that he provided was right. You slowly looked over at Dean, both of you gave one another a bit of a perplexed response, knowing the younger Winchester was more of the brains of this operation when it came to lore. Dean nodded his head at the man, taking a bit of your suspicion into consideration. You could look at Sam with an uneasy look all day, but that wasn’t going to help dig the grave.

Dean dropped the duffel bag to the ground and crouched down to unzip the bag to get out the supplies you would need. You reached out your arm and unwillingly grabbed the shovel from Dean to help with the digging part. This part had been mostly done with the help of Sam, but on the occasion, you would offer to help. But you were starting to have second thoughts from how the younger man was acting today. You bent down to grab the salt contents from the bag when Dean got up himself to start digging up the shallow grave.

"You know Sam," You grabbed the heavy container of salt as you struggled to keep the shovel in your hand without falling on your face. "It wouldn't hurt for you to at least help us."  

“I am helping. I’m admiring this view.” Sam muttered underneath his breath. It seemed the man had no shame when he thought you couldn’t hear his remark that was directed to you. But you did. You looked over your shoulder to see that the man was shamelessly eyeing whatever he could on your body. Yet it didn’t seem to go unnoticed when Dean looked over to see what was causing so much trouble. Sam quickly snapped out of it when his older brother cleared his throat, wondering what the hell was going on. The man managed to save himself by looking around the basement and coming up with the first lie that came to mind. “I’m just looking around this place. It’s pretty neat.”

“Whatever.” You hissed at him.

Turning the anger that was starting to make your blood boil into something more efficient, you decided that Sam could wait a little longer, you had a poltergeist still to deal with. You began digging up the grave with Dean, both of you working fast as you could, and a half an hour into the process, you were seeing bones. You had to stop for a second when you found yourself becoming out of breath as your arms were starting to ache. Leaning yourself against the shovel, you watched as Dean powered on through, digging a few more shovels of dirt. Neither of you realized what had been going on with Sam, or really, the plot Gary had been trying to get the nerve up to do. This was his perfect opportunity. Alone with no witnesses, Gary gathered all the strength that he had to point that shotgun directly at the Winchester's backside. All he had to do was shoot the man, that wasn't so hard. He nervously swallowed and forced his finger on the trigger, deciding it was now or never.

“Hey, man, I’m really sorry about this.” Sam said, striking up a conversation that seemed out of the blue.

“Sorry about what?” Dean asked with not much concentration.

Before Gary could press his finger down on the trigger, Maggie Briggs was here to screw up his little plan when she realized someone was messing with her resting spot. You quickly turned your head to look behind you when you heard a crashing sound. A sense of panic washed over you when you saw Sam had gone flying back and landed himself into the wall. While he’d been acting like a dick all night, he was still your best friend. You dropped your shovel to the ground as you followed behind Dean when he rushed over to his little brother’s side to see if he was all right. The both of you managed to get his large frame up from the ground. He seemed a bit wobbly as he tried to get himself to stand properly, and while he looked fine, his brain seemed to have hit a little too hard from his reaction at what happened.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Sam shouted with sheer panic in his voice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. We still got to burn the body, you idiot.” Dean said, stopping his little brother before he could run off like a chicken. He grabbed the man roughly by the shoulder and pushed him forward. “Come on.”

You could feel the slightest snicker about to come out from your mouth at the karma that Sam had gotten after the stunts he'd been pulling. But revenge was a two way street. Suddenly you could feel yourself being thrown back by an invisible force, landing yourself in the direct position Sam had been in not too long ago. But before Dean could help you, the man was thrown across the room himself, leaving the younger Winchester to try and save the day before it was too late. You pushed away the random objects that cushioned your fall as you tried your hardest to get yourself to your feet in time before something could happen. All though another obstacle stood in your way when you noticed Maggie staring at you straight in the eye, and from the look on her face, she wasn't here to greet you with open arms. 

You looked to see that the gun was lying on ground not too far from where Sam had dropped it. If you jumped for it at the right time, you could grab it to give the three of you enough time to burn her bones. Glancing back at the ghost, you narrowed your eyes on her as you moved your foot forward, knowing her next move was going to be at trying to attack you. When she started moving forward, you made your move, launching yourself at the ground while your arms outstretched in front of you to grab the gun.

You snatched your hands firmly around the gun and rolled to your back, getting ready to aim at the spirit, but there was no use. You watched as Maggie Briggs soon turned into nothing more than a flame of smoke before she disappeared from your sight. But her body was still untouched. You looked over to see that Dean was getting himself up from his spot on the floor. If he didn’t do it...you looked over to the other side of the basement to see Sam was standing over the grave with the canister of salt and lighter fluid in his hands, with a fire going behind him. He managed to save your skin, that’s what hunting partners did. But the smile on his face, it was like this was the best thing he’d ever done.

“Dude...that was sweet!”

Rewrite Taglist: @deansquirreljerkwinchester @lotsofspnshitposts @everything-i-tried-was-taken@starswirlblitz @albot-e @supernaturalismydrug (Message me if you would like to be added!)

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