#‘to say it would be a cop out’ and that applies to dean he can’t just SAY im bi/gay

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Anything

a continuation of Always

Characters: - Reader - Dean - Sam - Layla - Mrs. Rourke - Roy - Sue Ann- Mention of John and Joshua

Warnings: Fluff, Language, Implied Smut, Hurt Dean, Cannon Violence, Supernatural Spoilers,

A/N: So, I am really nervous about this one. Faith is in my top 3 favorite episodes of the whole series. This one is a wee bit longer. Sorry. I hope you enjoy it.

Hope y'all enjoy it.

Please don't copy my work

Like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated

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Your leg muscles throbbed from the pressure you were applying to the gas pedal. Yet your car still seemed to crawl along the road. Damnit I’m not gonna make it.

You looked up to the stars. “I never asked you for anything. I hunt monsters. I save people. He saves people. He’s a good fucking person. You can’t let him die. You hear me? Please don’t let him die.”

“Sam.” you said as you flipped open your phone and held it to your ear. “What’s going on? Is he?”

“No. He’s alive. We just got to the hospital. They just took him. How far away are you?”

“Maybe 20 minutes. 10 if I run some red lights.”

“[Y/n] we don’t need you getting hurt too.” He tried to hide it with a cough but you the sniffle “please be careful. “

“Always.” Your automatic response sent a sharp pain through your chest.

You leaned your back against the door to his room, staring at the calming painting hanging in the hallway, trying to find the courage to face what was on the other side.

“You love me.” He chuckled as you let out a hefty sigh.  He raised his head and rested his chin on your chest. You cracked your eyes open a bit, catching a glimpse of his bright green eyes. “You know I love you too, right?"

“I know.”

He gazed at you, a look of bewilderment crossing his face. “You know?!”

“Dean you tell me all the time, how I’m your best friend, you’re always telling me to be careful, you worry about me. I know you love me.”

He chuckled. “No sweetheart, I’m in love with you.”

You remember how your heart skipped at that moment. He slowly made his way up your body, his lips drawing closer to yours. You placed a hand on his chest, stopping him right before he got to his destination. ““If we cross this line, there’s no going back, Dean.”

He closed the gap between your lips and firmly placed his on yours. Your hand sliding upward, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The fire ran through your veins as he stroked his tongue against yours. His kisses grew needy, hungry like he couldn’t get enough of you.

Heavy pants filled the room as the desire intensified between you. Your fingers grazed the bottom of his shirt, lifting it gently to his chest, he broke the kiss and swiftly removed it. A smile on his lips as you admired the definition of his shoulder muscles. “Like what you see?”

“Eh, they’re alright.”

“That drool on your chin says otherwise” He murmured softly, lowering his head to place gentle kisses along your neck.

“[y/n]!” Sam’s voice pulled you out of your memory. You turned and headed in his direction.   

“Hey Sam. Have you heard anything?”

“No, I just got done talking to the cops and paying for his treatments.” You rolled your eyes. “They are just doing their jobs.” Sam glanced over your shoulder. “Hey Doc.” You pivoted and stood next to Sam. The doctor shifted his gaze to you then back to Sam. “His fiancée.” You gave a nod, going along with his lie.

“How is he?” your voice cracked.

“He's resting.” The doctor replied

“And?” Sam asked.

“The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart...it's damaged.” You felt a wave of emotion as tears started to gather in your eyes.

“How damaged?” you managed to keep you voice normal

“We've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But I'd give him a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month.”

“No, no. There's, there's... gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment.” Sam argued.

“We can't work miracles. I really am sorry.”

The reality hits you. “He’s not going to make it…”  You blinked, letting the tears flow freely down your cheeks.

“There’s my girl.” Dean said as you walked in, Sam following behind you.  His strained voice weighed heavily on your heart. Your eyes brimming with tears as they met his gaze. He appeared so frail and unwell. You had Dean in rough shape before, this was something entirely different. You and Sam stopped at the foot of his bed.

“We talked to your doctor.” Sam told him.

“Ok, So where are we doing the fight for the Impala?” Dean gestured to you and Sam. “Whoever gets it, better take care of it or I’ll haunt them.”

You scoffed. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh, come on, it's a little funny.”

“Dean.” Sam whimpered.

“Look, we all know how dangerous this gig can be. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story.”

“Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options.” Sam asserted.

“What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it.”

“Watch me.” Sam stormed out.

You sighed and rubbed your forehead, he reached out his arm, inviting you to lie down beside him. You walked over and sat in the chair beside his bed. He raised his eyebrows, grabbing your hand he pulled. “Get your ass over here.” You laid beside him. resting your head on his shoulder too scared to lay it on his chest.

“Tell me if I hurt you.”

He kissed your forehead. “You ain’t gonna hurt me baby.”

You walked up to Sam’s motel door and knocked. He opened the door slowly. “Hey, I thought you’d stay at the hospital.” He stepped back, opening the door all the way.

“Yea I got kicked out.” you said as you walked over and started looking at the papers Sam had laid all over the bed. “Did you call John?”

“I did. I got his voicemail. Big surprise.”

You sighed. “Find anything yet?”

“Actually.” There was another knock on the door. You looked at each other in confusion

Sam walked over to the door and opened it. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Checked myself out.” Dean said stepping into the room and leaning against the dresser. “I’m not gonna die in a hospital that kicks out my fiancée.” He gave you a weak grin. You shook your head. Sam helped him sit in the armchair.

“So, I was just about to tell [y/n] I called everyone in dad’s journal.”

“For what?”

“For a way to help you. One of his friends, Joshua, called me back. Told me about a specialist in Nebraska.”

“You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?”

“You’re not gonna die period. We are going.” You said sternly

Sam drives the Impala drives up a bumpy gravel path, to a sprawling white circus tent pitched in the middle of a field. Dean looks over to a sign that reads The Church of Roy LeGrange. “You guys are fucking liars!”  You and Sam jump out of the house and hurry to help Dean. “This ain’t no damn doctor.”

“Technically I said specialist.” Sam grabbed Dean’s arms “Let me help you”

“I got it.” Dean said batting away his arm “A freaking faith healer, really guys?”  He grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Can’t believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent.”

“Reverend LeGrange is a great man.” An elderly women yelled at Dean as she passed.

“Yeah, that’s nice.”

“Baby, this guy is supposed to be the real deal, can you please just shut up and give it a chance.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

He gave you a small smirk. “Alright, for you.” The three of you continued walking to the tent.

“Dean, how can you be a skeptic? With the things we see every day?” Sam asked him as you continued walking toward the tent.

“Exactly. We see them, we know there real.”

“But if you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there, too?” You asked.

“Because I’ve seen what evil does to good people.” He remarked. “And you guys can stop ganging up on me now.”

“Maybe God works in mysterious ways.” A young blonde said overhearing the conversation

“Maybe he does. I’m Dean, this is [y/n]” he said raising your hands. You smiled at her. “This is Sam.” He said pointing at Sam with his other hand.

“Layla. So, if you’re not a believer, then why are you.  here?”

“Well, apparently they believe enough for me.”

“Come on, Layla. It’s about to start.” An older women walked up and putting her arm around Layla

The three of you walked into the tent. Dean walked over to the last row and started to sit. “Dean please. There’s 3 up front. Come on.” He sighed and followed you.

“Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann,” Roy began his service.  “Reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?” he says as he steps up to the little podium. The room fills with echoes of no as the crowd agrees with him “Seems like there’s always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act.” Roy continues with his service “But, I say to you, God is watching.” You hear a mixture of Yes, he is, and amen, as they crowd agrees with him again. “God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt.”  The agreements get louder, as almost everyone says amen or hallelujah, Roy continues “It is the Lord who does the healing here friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people’s hearts.”

“Yeah, and into their wallets.” Dean whispers

“Shh” You whispered back.

“You think so, young man?” Roy asked

Silence falls over the tent.

Your jaw clenched in frustration. Dean cleared his throat. “Uh Sorry.” He said in a shaky voice.

“No, no. Don’t be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we’ve got real sharp ears.” Almost everyone laughed. “What’s your name, son?”

“Um, Dean.” The nervousness lingered in his voice.

“Dean.” Roy nods with a grin on his face.  “I want, I would you to come up here with me.”

The crowd was cheering. You hear the older woman with Layla whisper to her “seriously?!”

Sue Ann moves to center stage, gestures for Dean to come up while smiling.

“No, it’s ok.” Dean told them

“What are you doing?!” Sam asked him

“You’ve come here to be healed, haven’t cha?” Roy asked

 “Well, yeah,” the crowd starts the cheer. Dean stats on his seat and waited for the noise to settle. “Um. maybe you should just pick someone else.”

“Seriously Dean?” You sneered, annoyed.

“Oh, no. I didn’t pick you, Dean, the Lord did.” Roy declared.

“Please,” you begged “You told me you would give it a chance.”

He took a deep breath. “For you” he stood up and everyone started cheering.

Sue Ann walks Dean over to Roy. You see their mouths moving. “Pray with me friends.” Roy instructs as he raised one hand and puts the other one on Dean’s shoulder. All the hands in the audience raise, except yours, Sam's and the lady with Layla.

Roy moves his hand from Dean’s shoulder to the side of his head. “Alright now. Alright now.”  You and Sam jump up to your feet as Dean falls to his knees, Roy keeps his hand in place. “Alright now” Roy says again.

“Dean!” You and Sam yell as Dean collapses to the stage floor, you both run to him.

 The crowd is clapping excitedly.

Sam’s fingers grasp the front of Dean’s hoodie shaking him furiously. Finally, Dean’s eyes burst open as he gasps.

“Say Something!” Sam demands.

Dean blinking like his vision is still hazy as he gazes upward. Above him stands Roy, arms extended outward, palms facing up, a broad smile lighting up his face. Dean stares behind Roy, a look of disbelief etched on his face.

You lay on your back, your heart pounding and breaths coming in rapid bursts, gazing into Dean's eyes as his face hovered above yours.

"Wow," you breathed out, astonished.

He raised his eyebrows with a smile. “Told you I was ok.”

“I don’t know, I might be more convincing.” He laughed and rolled on his back beside you, He wrapped his arm around you, drawing you closer to him. you laid your head on his chest. “So, what was it like?”

“Mind blowing.”

“Really?”

“Well yeah babe. Our sex has always been great.” He chuckled as you let out a hefty sigh.

“You know what I meant Winchester.”

 “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

 You lifted your head and turned to look at him. His face was hard. “What’s wrong?” he shook his head. “Dean.” You pleaded.

“I don’t know. It was weird.” He sighed. “I felt cold. Something just felt off, felt wrong. When I think about it, I just get a bad feeling. Like there’s something more to it.” he looked up to the ceiling. “And the doctor mentioned something about a 27-year-old athlete that died of a heart attack.” He lipped his lips. “I’ve been trying, but I can’t sway myself into believe it was just a coincidence.”

You planted a swift kiss on his lips. “Alright, Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To explain this all to Sam, and then we can go check it out.”

“So how long you been together?” Roy asked as he sat down in the armchair across from the couch you and Dean were sitting on, in the LeGranges' living room.

“I’ve known her most of my life.” Dean looked at you , taking your hand in his. “Our dads worked together. There were many nights we got stuck babysitting my little brother together. Guess it all started there.”

“Well, the two of you make a stunning couple”

You smiled, “Thanks.”

“So how are you feeling Dean?” Roy asked.

“I feel great. Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened.” Dean denoted.

“A miracle is what happened, but miracles come so often around Roy.” Sue Ann said as she handed you both a glass of tea. You both nodded thanks.  

“When did they start? The miracles.” Dean inquired.

“Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month.” He explained fidgeting. “So, uh we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, to just keep right on praying. I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone.” Roy took off his sunglasses revealing his glassy white eyes. “If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it.”

“And you could heal people?” you asked.

“I discovered it afterward, yes. God has blessed me in many ways.”

“And his flock just swelled overnight. And this is just the beginning.” Sue Ann added with a proud smile on her face.

“Mind if I ask you one last question?” Dean asked looking down

“Of course not.”

Dean licked his lips, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he asked, “Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?” You gently squeezed his hand, offering him a sense of reassurance.

“Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me.” Roy took a drink of his tea. “I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest.”

“What did you see in my heart?”

“A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished.”

As Sue Ann Ushers you out the door, Layla and her mother are waiting to go in.

“I’m sorry Layla the reverend is resting right now. He won’t be seeing anyone else today.” Sue Ann says with sympathy

“Sue Ann, please. This is our sixth time; he's got to see us.” Layla’s mother pleads.

“Hey, I’m gonna go start the car.” You whisper to Dean excusing yourself from the awkward situation. With a nod he squeezes your hand then releases it.

“She really said that to you?” You asked as you entered the motel.

“Yea, I'm kinda glad you went to the car. Couldn’t have you throwing punches on a reverend's porch.” He laughed as he threw his keys on the table.

“Well, it sounds like you two had an interesting day.” Sam said looking up from his laptop.

“Very. What'd you find out?” Dean asked Taking off his jacket and hanging it on a chair.

“Dean. I'm sorry.” Sam whimpered barely above a whisper.

“Sorry about what?”

“Marshall Hall died at 4:17.”

“Let me guess” you said grabbing a bottle of water. “The exact time Dean was healed.” You sighed as Sam nodded.

 “So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits.” Sam handed Dean a stack of paper.  “Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time.” sense of sorrow in his voice.

“Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?”

“Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed.” Sam tried to comfort him.

“You guys never should've brought me here.”

“Dean, we were just trying to save you.” You chimed in.

“But now some guy is fucking dead now because of me.” Dean exclaimed with frustration.

“We didn't know, Dean.” Sam rubbed his temples.  “The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?”

“Oh, he's not doing it. Something else is doing it for him.” Dean declared.

“What do you mean?” Sam questioned.

“The old man I saw on stage.” Dean said. Your eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t tell you that part. “I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew.”

“You don’t think it’s a.”

“Yes, I do” Dean cut you off as he glanced at you.

“What are you guys talking about?” Sam asked

“There's only one thing that can give and take life like that.” Sam looked at Dean, still confused.

” It’s a reaper.” You murmured. Dean nodded,

“You really think it's THE Grim Reaper?” Sam asked typing on his laptop.

“No Sam, not THE reaper, A reaper.” You told him.

“There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it's possible that there's more than one of them.” Dean said looking through lore pages. “The question is how is Roy controlling the damn thing?”

“That cross.” Sam

“What?” Dean

“There was this cross, I knew looked familiar.” Sam looks through some papers and holds a card up, “This.”

“A Tarot?” Dean asked, taking the card from Sam, he looked at it then showed it to you.  

“It makes sense. A tarot dates to the early Christian era right, when some priests were still dabbling in magic.” You noted. Dean tilted his head with a pondering expression.

“And a few of them veered into the dark stuff. Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it?” Sam added

“So, Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?” Dean

“If so. He’s riding the whirlwind. It's like putting a dog leash on a great white.” Sam

“Ok then we stop Roy.” Dean announced as he got up and put his coffee mug in the sink. Leaning on the counter behind you.

“How?” Sam asked

“You know how.”

“Dean, we can't kill him.” You proclaim, turning around to face him.

“Babe, he’s playing God, deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book.”

“No. We do that we're no better than he is.” Sam

“Ok, we can’t kill Roy, we can't kill death. Any other bright ideas?” Dean said with a bit of sass.

“We gotta figure out how he’s doing it and how to break it.” Sam stated.

The Impala jolts along the rough, gravel-strewn road again. Dean did his best to dodge the potholes, passing a sign that says service today.

“If Roy's using a spell, there might be a spell book.” Sam said as you guys got out of the car.

“See if you can find it.” He looked at his watch, “You gotta hurry though, the service starts in fifteen minutes. We’ll try to stall” Dean takes your hand, and you head for the tent while Sam heads toward the house.

You and dean mosey up and down the aisles on opposite sides of the tent. You hear a cell phone ring and look up to see Dean putting his to his ear. He talks for a few seconds and then holds the flyer that the protestor in the parking lot gave him and mouths the words He’s next. He points at you then the opening on the tent. He them mouths be careful; you nod mouthing back always and go search for the man.

You go out to the parking lot, bobbing and weaving through cars, finding Sam. You throw your hands up in frustration. “Keep looking [y/n]” Sam yells, you continue in the direction you were going.

“HELP.” You turn searching for where the voice was coming from. “HELP ME PLEASE! HELP ME!” you figure out the direction and start running. You pass a bus to see Sam and the man running like they are being chased, you look toward the tent as you hear the commotion. You see Roy and his followers exiting the tent. You look back to Sam and the man still running frantically.

“Yea?” Dean answered his phone.

“Dean. It didn’t work the reaper is still after him.” the man falls to his knees. “I saw Roy. He’s not doing it; it must be someone else”

“Its Sue Ann”

 You see Sam helping the man up and he doesn’t look frightened anymore. You sigh in relief. “I think he’s ok.”  Then you hear Sue Ann yelling help through the phone.

“So, Roy really believes.” Sam asked sitting on his motel bed.

“I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing.” Dean said between the beds.

“Well, I found this.” Sam said handing a book to Dean. “Hidden in their library. It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper.”

“Must be a hell of a spell.” You said sitting on the other bed.

“Yeah. You gotta build a black altar with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood. To cross a line like that, a preacher’s wife. Black magic. Murder. Evil”

“Desperate. Her husband was dying,” Dean looked to you “she would have done anything to save the person she loves.” His gaze locked onto yours as he spoke, and his words made your heart flutter. A smirk on his face as you exhaled sharply, trying to compose yourself.

 “Yeah, but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?”

“To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral.” Sam informed. “We gotta break that spell.”

Dean rifled through the pages on the table. Finding the picture of the cross he said. “You know Sue Ann had a Coptic cross like this. As soon as she dropped it, the guy was ok.”

“So, you think we gotta find the cross or destroy the alter?” Sam asked

“Maybe both?” you suggested

“Whatever we do we better do it soon, he's healing Layla tonight.” Dean said

“That's Layla's car. She's already here.” Sam says as Dean pulls the impala in the drive.

Dean nods with a grim expression “You know she's gonna die in a couple of months.”

“You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God.” Sam says with compassion

Dean looks to you. You press your lips in a hard line. “He’s right Dean, I’m sorry.”

The three of you approach the tent and peek inside. Roy is speaking to a small group, including Layla and her mother.

“Gather round, please everyone” Roy says.

“Where's Sue Ann?” Dean asked.

“House.” Sam guessed.

“You guys go find Sue Ann; I'll catch up.” Dean says pushing you and Sam into the shadows. As two cops walk down the stairs, Dean yells. “Hey!” they look at him. “You gonna put that fear of god in me?” He takes off running and they chase after him.

As soon as they're gone you and Sam run up the stairs and check around the house. It’s completely dark. “Look” Sam whispers, pointing at the light emerging from the cracks of the outside basement entrance. “I’ll go check it out. You see if you can get in the house.” You nod. Sam moves toward the basement entrance, opens the doors and slips inside.

As you search the house you hear the cellar door slam. You look out the window to see Sue Ann locking the doors. Sam banging on them trying to get out. You make your way quickly to the cellar doors, but Sue Ann is nowhere to be found. “Sam?” You whispered. pulled the pipe out of the door handles and swung them open. “Sammy!”

He emerged from the shadows. “Bout time.”

You and Sam ran over to the tent. You see Sue Ann holding up the cross while reciting something. You and Sam start to run in her direction. “Sam, destroy the cross, I’ll find Dean.” He nods as he continues to run toward her.

As you weave through the parked cars you hear a loud wail in the distance. You froze in place. “Dean?!” you yelled at the top of your lungs, getting no response you began to search again.  You hear another wail. You turn around to see Dean on his knees in the driveway. “Dean.” Speak softly with trepidation. Your legs jolt to life. Pushing into the ground as hard as you can, you finally make it to him. He’s gasping for air with glazed over eyes. You tackle him, pushing him onto his back. You rise to your knees facing the same direction Dean was seconds ago.  “Not him. Take me instead.” Nothing happens. Dean is still unable to breathe. “Come on you son of a bitch. Not him!” You shouted in anger. With one big last gasp dean’s breathing returns to normal. Anticipation hits you like a joke of lightning as you wait for the reaper to appear, but he doesn’t.

“[y/n]”

“Sam did it he destroyed the cross.” You say helping Dean to his feet.

“You guys, ok?” Sam asked as you approached the Impala.

“Hell of a week.” Dean said, shaking his head.

“We should get going.” You said as you opened the back door.

Dean’s pov

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, sitting on the trunk of his car, in that leather jacket, hair blowing in the wind. She was gorgeous inside and out. Crazy thing was she loved him, him of all people. She loved him enough to give her life just to save him.  He opened the door and threw his duffle on the back floorboard.

“Whatcha starin’ at Winchester?”

“Just the prettiest girl in the world.”

“Kiss ass.” She said with a smile.

He laughed softly as he moved between her legs, wrapping her waist with his arms. “Listen,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “I never want you to think about trading your life.”

“Dean.” She cut him off. “Save your breathe. I don’t care how mad you get, how loud you yell, or how many days you stay pissed off at me. I would do anything to save your life.”

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[deancasbigbang]

Title: Ghosts and Monsters

Author: WhiskyBoys

Artist: Squirrelofcelestialintent

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean/Cas, minor Sam/Jess, mention of past Dean/Crowley and past Cas/others.

Length: 32000

Warnings: No major archive warnings apply

Tags: A/B/O, alpha Cas/omega Dean, cop Cas, hurt Dean, protective Cas and Sam, Mary and John’s A+ parenting, mentions of past bullying and violence.

Posting Date: November 3, 2023

Summary: Thanks to his asshole ex-boyfriend, Dean is homeless, unemployed, and in deep shit with his ex’s loan shark. Just when it seems like things can’t get any worse they do. His dad has a heart-attack. Sam begs him to come home and this time Dean can’t say no. He hasn’t been back to his hometown since he was a scared and desperate seventeen year old and the prospect of returning over a decade later is still terrifying.  The town of Grace has seen a lot of changes since Dean ran away, but one thing that apparently hasn’t changed is how stupidly in love Dean is with his childhood best friend, Cas.  The question is, can Dean heal the old wounds that haunt him. And is he willing to let Cas help him this time around?

Excerpt: Of course, of all the people to find him out here it had to be a goddamn cop. Dean’s dumb fucking luck.  Exhausted as he is, Dean pushes himself upright, muscles tensing for a fight. One that he’s in no shape for. A running mantra of ‘I should never have come back’ loops continuously through his head.  “I can’t believe it’s really you.” The man’s voice, deep and low, softens even further. “Of course, you must be here to see your father.” Dean drags his attention from the pressed navy shirt, the gold badge, the holstered gun, to the cop’s face. It takes a moment for the cogs in his syrup-slow brain to click and whirr and make the connections, then he finally realises who’s standing in front of him.  A wave of emotions crashes into him. Tumultuous and devastating. He sways on his feet.  There’s no way. No fucking way. He wouldn’t have. Not after everything that happened. Unconsciously, Dean hugs his arms around his ribs and defiantly juts his chin upwards. “Castiel Novak.” Cas smiles, stiffly, unsure. “It’s a long time since you called me Castiel.” “It’s a long time since we’ve seen each other,” Dean points out, ensuring not a hint of friendliness enters his voice even though the frostiness in his tone plunges shards of glass into his own heart. Cas’ tense smiles strains even further, uncertainty wrinkling between his eyes. Still deeply blue. Still pretty. “That's true. Too long, Dean. I’ve missed you. Everyone has. Sam. Your parents.” Dean snorts. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” “Dean…” Dean isn’t sure what Cas is about to say, something patronising or pitying no doubt, something he refuses to listen to. “I need to go,” he says, cutting him off sharply. “Oh. Of course. Your dad. He’s doing well, I hear. He’ll be thrilled to see you.” “Hopefully not too thrilled under the circumstances,” Dean can’t help saying wryly. “Wouldn’t want to give him another heart attack.” He would laugh at the resultant flustered expression on Cas’ face if he was currently capable of feeling any emotion beneath his brittle shell of shock.  Shock and betrayal.  He moves to leave on feet that seem to be mired in lead. His eyes stray to the badge on Cas’ chest again before he catches himself and snaps his gaze back to the hospital door.  “Dean.” Cas reaches out as Dean edges past him. His fingers rest lightly on Dean’s forearm. “If you want to talk about your dad, or just to catch up, or…anything, you know I’m here for you.” Dean smiles, northwind-cold, eyes like ice. He pulls away from Cas’ touch. “I don’t think so, deputy.” Cas’ hand jumps to the gun at his hip as though he’s forgotten he’s wearing it. Dean catches a flash of something that looks like hurt in Cas’ eyes before he turns away. He ignores Cas calling after him on the interminable walk to the hospital entrance.

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[tvxcue]

stop telling spn fans to watch black sails for good storytelling and start telling the spn writers room to watch black sails to learn how to write a good story

[s11e17]

For the prompt meme: one of my head canons is that "Ring of Keys" from Fun Home would absolutely destroy Dean. What did Dean's 'ring of keys' moment look like? OR, alternatively: Dean and drag and/or "Swayze always gets a pass" as applied to To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything specifically.

i love this prompt! and, also, reading it made me realize i would not survive a conversation with dean winchester because i have zero pop culture knowledge. however i just watched to wong foo this year bc my roommates know movies, so i went with that prompt :)

happy pride !!!

content warnings for:

- drug mention

- casually homophobic language in dean's internal narrative (no slurs)

- a description of the scene in to wong foo where sheriff dollard tries to assault vida [begins right under the cut, feel free to DM me for more details if u want/need 'em]

---

“Uh.”

Dean pauses the movie. Looks up. There’s Sam, mouth catchin’ flies, right in the door. While Dean’s tryin’ to have a night to himself in front of their not-haunted TV screen.

“All right,” Dean says, after waiting a nice’n generous stretch of time for Sam to finish his sentence. “Scintillating, man.”

“No, I just—” Sam clears his throat, and steps in, and Dean watches his mouth twitch. “I mean, drag queens?”

It’s chill. If anyone’s gonna be chill about this, it’s Sam. Still, Dean’s shoulders creep up even higher, and he can feel the tension in the middle of his shoulders. “It’s Swayze, dude,” he says. Slugs half a beer and adds, “Swayze always gets a pass.”

“Yeah, I mean—” Sam blows out a breath and says, “Jesus Christ, I’m coming at it all wrong. I just mean, you look fuckin’— tense as hell, sitting there. You don’t have to watch that stuff if you don’t like it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean tries to see it from Sam’s angle, but he can’t get it. Why the hell would he watch something he didn’t want to?

Sam freezes. He says, “Oh.” And he comes right over and sits next to Dean, taking up half the couch. His little brother got too damn big at college and Dean’ll never be over it.

Dean looks over, but Sam doesn’t look like he’s about to say anything else, so Dean puts his beer down and hits play again. Sheriff Dollard — the asshole — is feelin’ up Vida Boheme’s skirt, and Dean’s— Dean’s—

“You okay, man?” Sam asks, knee bobbing, while Dean hunches forward, shoulders angled towards the TV, stressed like anything.

“Just don’t want anythin’ bad to happen to ‘em,” Dean mutters, watching. And then — thank fuck — Vida kicks him off her, and he’s on the ground. “Ha. Got it comin’, asshole.”

“Nice.” Sam relaxes, too, leans back while the girls worry over what to do about the cop facedown on the ground. “You seen this before?”

“No, I.” Dean swallows. He doesn’t look at Sam. He says, “Jody recommended it.”

“Oh?” Dean risks a glance over, and Sam’s smiling a little. “That’s nice, man. Didn’t realize Jody was into that.”

“Into what?” Dean asks, prickly, even though— of course he knows. Sam didn’t realize Jody was into gay shit. The kind of gay shit Dean shouldn’t be watching, really, considering who he is. What he is.

Sam shrugs. “Drag, I guess,” he says. “Not like cops have a friendly relationship with queer people, is all.”

“You know all about it, huh,” Dean asks, as the girls recover at a rest stop.

“I did drag in college.”

What. Dean pauses the movie again. He looks right at Sam. “What?”

“I—” Sam laughs, and his hair sways with it. “I dunno why I thought you already knew that. Yeah, man. Like, I only got in drag twice, I think, but— half the people in law school are millionaires with coke habits and the other half are there for, like, humanitarian law or whatever. Drag queens fit in pretty well with both crowds.”

“The things you learn about a guy.” Dean swallows. Quietly, he asks, “You, uh, ever think about… pickin’ it back up?”

“Not really, no,” Sam says thoughtfully. “Not now. There’s a lot of— it’s a little too, uh, visible. Being on display. Not my thing these days.”

Dean thinks about that. He thinks about the idea of it— putting makeup on, seein’ someone he chose in the mirror. Wearing something beautiful and— and— and queer, Jesus, gettin’ on stage and having people look at him and think he’s a goddamn queer and think he’s beautiful for it. “Seems fun,” he croaks out, looking back to the screen. He can’t really say anything else about it.

Sam doesn’t say anything for a moment. Before Dean can press play again, though, he asks, “Do you wanna know how it ends?”

Aw, jeez. Dean looks at the screen. The three of ‘em, gorgeous in their own right, sitting hunched over in a rest stop with their broken down car the way Dean did too often as a kid. If it weren’t for Sam, Dean would’ve been Chi-Chi, he knows it, trailing around wide-eyed after anybody who’d tell him something true. His hands itch with it, with the thought of being beautiful on his own terms. “Yeah, okay,” he tells Sam. “In general, I mean, nothin’ specific. I mean. Is it a tragedy?”

Sam shakes his head. “No,” he says, grinning. Dean relaxes. “It has a happy ending.”

[smol-and-grumpy]

EUPHORIA - Chapter 22

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Chapter Warning: NSFW, flangst

WC: 3229

A/N: This chapter fills my ‘Impala sex’ square for @spnkinkbingo​​

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​ <3

THIS SERIES IS COMPLETE ON PATREON

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

It’s unfamiliar to drive with a bandage around his hand and it would be in the way for what he’s planning to do, so Dean takes it off mid-drive. He’ll tell her that he had to do some things at the club that involved him having to take it off. He doesn’t mind holding still for her to put another one on him. Preferably with her in his lap, because that shit’s really good, and he enjoyed every minute of it.

He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head when he thinks back to her asking him if she’s a good fuck. 

Jesus, how could she even think that she’s not? She’s all he thinks about since he sank his cock into her pussy. She’s the one he sees when he closes his eyes to rest. Dean could fucking live in her and if he’d go out that way, he wouldn’t even fucking mind! He’s sure that going out while being inside of her might be on the cards for him, because his heart beats so fast every time, it makes his fucking head spin. 

It’s true, he fucking loves fucking. He probably would not own a sex club if he doesn’t like it, but fucking with her is something else. Sure, she’s not that experienced, but maybe that’s just the thing that triggers his fancy. And maybe, just maybe, it’s because it’s her.

Dean knows why she might think that, and knowing it, makes him even angrier. It gets his blood boiling and fucking Cole can die in a fucking ditch. 

The Impala rumbles to a halt in front of a little one story house. The lights inside are on.

As soon as Dean gets out, Balthazar hurries out of his own car to come greet him. 

“You gave him the nosebleed, boss?” Balth grins and Dean sends him a glare, to which the other man quickly shuts his fucking mouth. 

“He harassed her, Balth, that’s what fucking happened!” Dean growls low and the other man looks down to his toes, unable to look Dean in the eyes. 

“You called the cops on him?” 

Dean snorts out a laugh, “Nah, I’ll do it my way,” 

“Dean, no,” Balthazar breathes out. 

“Dean, yes,” Dean’s grin grows wider.

Well, yeah, Balthazar’s not wrong. Maybe he should have called the cops, but again, they don’t really have any proof and Dean thinks that he has the upper hand.

He looks to the house and asks, “Is he alone?”

Balth nods, “Yeah, his girlfriend left for work two hours ago. She won’t be back til dawn.”

Dean shakes his head. Cole’s a fucking leech. He gets angrier when he thinks that maybe Y/N had to work for the both of them too? Jesus, he gets nauseous just thinking about it. She definitely did not deserve that. Not that anyone does, but she especially doesn’t.

He nods at the man before making his way to the door. Dean rings the bell and raps loudly against the wood. 

Strangely enough, Cole opens with not a care in the world, widening his eyes when he sees that it’s Dean. Just who did he think would come knocking at this time of the night? Some fucking dealer? Yeah, maybe some dealer. It wouldn’t surprise Dean. 

Cole’s quick to slam the door shut, but Dean’s hand is already pushing against the door and his foot is blocking it from closing, “I just want to talk, look, I’m sorry man,”

“Yeah, right,” Cole snorts, “Talk. Like that’s a thing you do.”

Cole’s not as dim as Dean thought, he has to give him that. Nonetheless, Dean pushes his way in. That fucking loser doesn’t stand a chance it’s almost too easy, he thinks, and he grins that cocky grin of his, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his hand goes around the other man’s throat, pushing him further into the house, and pins him to the wall. 

From up close, Dean can see Cole’s swollen nose, the area around it has started to bruise. Dean can’t help but admire his work a little. Maybe he’ll break Cole’s jaw next, depending on how he feels. 

He switches his hand with his elbow and is applying more pressure. The other man claws at his clothed arms while sputtering something incoherently. 

“You listen to me, Cole,” Dean whispers low, “You go near her again, you’ll be dead before the cops can fucking help you.”

“T— the fuck!” Cole spits out, and pushes Dean away with all his might, making Dean stagger back a couple of feet and he feels the other man’s fist connect with his shoulder, missing his face by seconds of good thinking on Dean’s part.

Dean manages to get the upper hand. It’s not that hard. Cole’s shorter than him, shorter than Sam and Dean normally always win against Sam. Cole also has less strengths. He throws punches like a fucking kid and it’s really pathetic of him to think that he could overpower Dean. 

With a blink of an eye, Dean sits on Cole’s back and pins one of his hands behind it. The other man winces in pain. He’s wriggling and squirming beneath Dean. It’s almost sad that he doesn’t put up more of a fight. 

“Get the fuck off me!” Cole calls out, “I’m calling the cops!”

“Yeah, you do that. Tell them that you fucking broke your restraining order while you’re at it, will ya?” Dean snarls and applies more pressure, pulling at Cole’s hand. Maybe he’ll break it? He hasn’t decided yet.

“What do you fucking want?” Cole mutters, his breathing ragged.

“I want you to fucking leave my girl alone!”

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Cole snorts and Dean clubs him over the head. That fucker just really doesn’t know when to shut up.

“You know what?” Dean smirks darkly, “I might do just that, yeah.”

“And you think you can get away with it?”

Seriously, that dude just doesn’t know who he’s talking to. Probably was never the brightest star on the horizon. Which makes Dean really wonder how the fuck someone like Y/N ended up with someone like Cole.

“I don’t think that,” Dean says calmly, “I know that. I have friends in high places, Cole. You do as I say or you’ll see what happens. It’s your choice.”

Dean gets off him and helps the man up before he pats Cole’s shoulder, “I have people watching you. You get too close to my girl one more time, I’ll hunt you the fuck down.”

Turning, Dean walks to the door but he’s aware of Cole. Would feel if the man lashed out at him. His senses are sharp.

But instead of lashing out, Cole starts to laugh, “Your girl? Man, she’s not even fucking worth i—”

Dean’s fist connects with Cole’s jaw and it breaks with a loud crunching sound.

He looms over Cole, who’s holding his jaw and Dean crouches down, lowering himself to whisper into Cole’s ear, “Nobody touches what’s fucking mine, understand?”

  As Y/N is finishing up the page and sends it out for print, her phone lights up.

  D: I’m sorry, there’s a hold up at the club. I’ll be there in 10.

  She smiles a little at the message as she sees that it’s exactly two hours to the dot since he left. Thinks it’s absolutely cute how he doesn’t want her to think that he forgot about picking her up. 

  Y/N: No worries, take your time. I’ll probably even need another 20 to clean up everything here as I will be out for the next few days.

  That’s not even a lie.

Ugh. She has to go to Washington. And she’ll be there for two nights. Two fucking nights without Dean. She honestly doesn’t know if she will survive. He’s quite addictive if she can say so.

 *

When she shut down her computer and packed away her laptop her phone lights up.

  D: I’m waiting down in the foyer. 

  Y/N smiles to herself and says goodbye to the last remaining colleague before she takes the elevator down. 

When the elevator opens up, Dean’s talking to the security guy. They seem to be in deep conversation but when Dean notices her, he turns his head and greets her with a bright smile.

His hair is a little messy, and he’s dressed in casual jeans and a simple black shirt, a plaid shirt thrown over it. It’s still a look she has to get used to. She wonders, though, why he changed? It also seems like he showered and the bandage is off. 

“Hey,” Dean greets her, bending down a little to kiss her, “Sorry, it got a little messy and I had to take another shower.”

“Did it?” She asks, and it might have come out more accusatory than she intended. 

He frowns at her, knowing exactly what she thinks, “Jesus, baby, are we still discussing this?” Cupping her chin between his fingers, he points it up to look at him, “How many times do I have to say it? I’m not fucking anyone else, alright? Not when you fuck me so good already anyway,” 

He grins down at her and god, how could she think things like that when he’s been so helpful and she can really see that he cares for her? She feels dumb. 

“There was an accident with the champagne fountain, you can ask Cas.” He whispers, before he molds his lips to hers and how can she not believe him now. It’s not really fair that he uses his charming techniques to get her to calm down. It’s not fucking fair that it actually works either.

Dean breaks the kiss to take her bag from her hand and walks her out of the building, his other hand firm around her waist.

“When do you have to leave tomorrow?”

“My train’s going at 9am.” 

“Good,” Dean grins as he opens the trunk and drops in her belongings, “Get in, I wanna take you somewhere.”

*

After about another thirty minutes, and a drive through their old neighborhood, Dean stops at a place she only knew from hearsay. 

It’s by the back entrance of the big park. The car park is surrounded by big old trees, making it a perfect place for teens to meet and do all kinds of naughty things. She never knew because nobody ever brought her here. Y/N heard that they were illegally drinking and smoking here, heard that some had sex in their cars as well. 

Dean kills the engine and looks at her, one eyebrow raised, “You know where we are?” 

She snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, why are we here?” 

“Because,” Dean says and reaches under his seat to roll the bench seat back to the max, “It was always my fantasy to bring you out here.” 

He tugs at her arm, flinches a little because his hand is still hurt, but he wouldn’t let it slow him down and she finds herself straddling him, his arms are around her waist, holding her tight while he cranes his neck. Their noses touch.

“You wanted to bring me out here?” Y/N whispers, rubbing their noses together.

“Uh-huh,” 

“Yeah?”

Dean chuckles, “Yeah.”

“What did you want to do? Get me drunk? Get me high?”

“Nuh-huh,” He mumbles and tries to kiss her but she pulls her face away with a grin.

“Nuh-uh?”

“No,” Dean breathes out, “Wanted to do just this,” He kisses her and she lets him, lets him tease along her lip with his tongue, “Kiss myself stupid on your soft lips, wanted to feel you wriggling in my lap,”

“Ah,” She giggles and it’s her who kisses him now and Dean leans his head back, letting her rain kisses all over his face, his jaw, his neck. She licks a stripe up his throat to his ear, sucks in the lobe and he groans out low. His breathing is heavy, his heart is beating as fast as hers. 

Y/N grinds in his lap, feels him hardening in his pants, thinks that she’ll ruin it if she doesn't stop because she’s getting wetter by the second. She breaks the kiss and Dean’s mouth chases after her. 

She chuckles out in a whisper, “Dean, your pants,”

“What’s with my pants?” He’s frowning a little.

“I’ll soil them.”

Dean grins, it’s all cocky and wide, “Take it off,”

“Here?” Her eyes widen.

“Yeah, come on, there’s nobody around,” 

Well, he’s not wrong about that. But still. Sex in a public place? She definitely has never done that. Which is the reason why it’s probably so fucking appealing. She can’t lie that it doesn’t turn her on.

“‘K,” She smiles at him and her hands work on his belt buckle before they pull at his zipper. 

“Good girl,” He lets out a groan, kisses her cheek and jaw and licks at her earlobe while she’s concentrating on getting the zipper down. His one hand goes below her shirt, fingers tweaking at one of her nipples. Distracting is what it is. 

She opens his jeans wide enough to take his cock out of it’s confines, leaves the elastic of his underwear just below his balls and she actually bursts out laughing when she sees his cock. 

Dean gasps, “That was not the reaction I was expecting, but okay,”

Y/N’s still laughing when she kisses him, “You did that for me?”

“Only for you,” Dean grins and sinks his teeth into her bottom lip, “I was hoping you’d be delighted. Did not expect to get laughed at my dick, though.”

“‘M sorry,” 

“That’s okay but never laugh at my cock again, okay?”

“Promise,” She giggles as she wraps her hand around it, it’s hot and heavy in her hand. 

Dean wears a cock ring. The same one she held up for him last time. The one that has a little vibration thingy attached. 

“Come on, turn it on and ride me,”

There’s a wide grin on her face and she does what she’s told, pushes at the little power button on the side and Dean groans when it jumps to life. 

“Fuck,” He chuckles, “Don’t know how long I can hold off, though.” 

Y/N smacks her hand against Dean’s chest, “I swear if you come now, I won’t talk to you again!”

“I would never do that,” Dean lets out a whine as he bucks his hips and she knows that she needs to hurry to get on that before it’s over.

Lifting herself on her knees, her hand goes beneath her skirt and she hooks her finger into the crotch of her underwear, pulls it to the side while holding her skirt up with her other hand. Dean already has his vibrating dick in his hand and threads the head through her slick as she lowers herself some more.

“Jesus, you’re so wet baby,” The slicking sound of wet skin rubbing together can be heard in the car, even above the vibrating sound. 

She throws her head back a little, closes her eyes when she sits down further, impaling herself on Dean’s cockhead. The vibrations from his cock travels to her cunt and already it clenches, making him curse and grunt. 

Taking him further, she slowly sits down, moaning out when she’s fully seated, the vibration is right at her clit.

“Oh my god, fuck—,” She grits her teeth before taking her bottom lip between them, biting down on it because she knows that she can’t make too loud a sound.

Dean notices her grimacing, knows that she wants to moan and he quickly places his hand on the back of her neck, draws her down and kisses her. He drinks up her moans, sucks in her tongue and she’s doesn’t think she can even breath because it feels so fucking great. 

He parts with a peck on her lips, leaves his hand on the back of her neck and holds her there, “Grind on it, baby, make yourself come,” 

She nods her head at him and starts to move her hips, slow at first. God, it feels really great, the vibration hits her right and Dean lets himself sink lower, lays the back of his head on the seat and she braces both her hands on either side of his head on the seat, fingernails digging into the leather.

“You look so beautiful,” Dean says and he looks at her like he’s really in awe. She thinks that he’s lying because nobody can look good from that angle. But she can’t dwell on it, she’s so close to coming. 

Dean’s big hand grabs at her ass cheeks, kneading and spanking down on them, making her yelp and giggle. She can feel that one of his hands has less strength and she makes a mental note to fix it up once they get home. 

The windows of the car start to fog up, and she’s sure that their movement can be seen on the outside, the car must be rocking. It’s just... since she’s with Dean, she cares less about these things, she’s more daring because she trusts him. She absolutely can’t say that she doesn’t love the new person she has become.

“Does this come close to your fantasy?” She’s breathing heavily as she looks down to him, sees him looking back at her with a bright smile on his face. 

“Better,” He whispers, “God, you have no idea how many nights I stayed awake thinking about you.”

He thought about her? A lot? If her face wouldn’t have been flush from the fucking, she thinks it’s would be even more now. 

“Can you come for me baby?” Dean swallows hard, “I can’t fucking hold out any longer.”

Y/N thinks it’s weird. She thought that cock rings should make the guy go on for longer, but apparently, Dean’s dick doesn’t work like that.

“Uh-huh,” She mumbles, starts to grind on him faster and Dean’s hand are on her hips, helping her move as good as he can, “God, you’re so deep and the vibrations, fuck— I’m coming, Dean, I’m—”

“I got you,” He whispers, and he lets her bury her face next to his, as he bucks his hips, driving his dick deeper in. 

Her legs start to tremble, her cunt clenches as she gushes around him. He comes too, grunts out some curses that she can not understand, while his fingertips dig into the flesh around her waist, holding her tight as he bucks his hips a couple more times. 

“Fuck,” Dean chuckles, tilts his head to kiss her forehead. He moves his hand in between them and down to the ring, switching off the vibrations. Dean kisses at the place where her neck meets her shoulder, licks at her flesh, “Better than I could have ever imagined.”

She chuckles into his skin, and they stay like that for a while longer. Y/N already dreads him slipping out of her. She hates the feeling of the emptiness she feels after sex. Especially with him. Dean knows that too, because she can feel that he wants to hold out for as long as possible too. 

There’s a sharp knock at their window that makes her hold her breath and sends her heart racing.

Chapter 23

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[bi-bard]

Invisible String- Dean Winchester

Title: Invisible String

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Requested: Nope but PLEASE SEND IN SOME REQUESTS!

Word Count: 2,279 words

Warning(s): Mentions of character death

Summary: (leads up to the end of season 3/beginning of season 4) No one knows how but Dean and (Y/n) always seem to meet each other. (Y/n) isn’t from a family of hunters yet they seem to bump into Dean in every town he moved to. Maybe there’s a reason for that... maybe it takes something terrible to bring that reason to light.

Author’s Note: Inspired by “Invisible String” by Taylor Swift

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

It all started our junior year of high school. I remembered it distinctly. I was the one with the highest grade and got told to work with the new kid on the next project. 

The new kid. Dean Winchester.

Dean... didn’t think he should’ve had to do any of the work. He had been able to get others to do it for him before. I wasn’t having any of it. I snapped at him when I noticed him slacking.

It must have stuck with him. We ended up getting a good grade on the project. He tried to be kinder to me after that. He had been a kind of friend for a while.

Then, he was gone. Without a single word, gone. 

I didn’t end up seeing Dean until the following summer. I had gone to visit my aunt in a state over. She lived on a lake and thought that it would be a great way to spend my summer before I had to apply for college and scholarships and all of that stuff. 

He had been dropped off by a car and ended up on the shore next door. He barely recognized me in my bathing suit, which was far. I had cut my hair and started lifting weights in the hopes that I’d be able to defend myself one day.

The conversation last for hours. He was keeping an eye on his brother, Sam, while we were talking. It was nice to be able to catch up with him again. He just wouldn’t answer where he had gone off to during the school year. 

He stayed at the house next door for another two weeks.

We were both sitting and talking on the shore when a loud and gruff voice yelled for Dean. I turned around to see a man- who I assumed was his dad- directing Sam into the car. Dean got up quickly. 

I followed him, giving him a tight hug. It seemed to catch him off guard. It took him a moment to hug back but he seemed really happy to be getting a hug from someone. He left with a quiet goodbye and his head down.

I didn’t see him again until late into my junior year of college. I had given up any hope of seeing Dean again. Then, my roommate went missing. She went to a party and then never came back after that. I was terrified because I could’ve been next.

I knew something was off when Dean showed up, claiming to be an F.B.I agent. I called him out instantly. Dean was shocked but smiled at me anyways. I hugged him tightly, just needing some comfort.

“How are you holding up,” he asked, after sitting on my couch. I shrugged. “Your roommate wasn’t the first one.”

“What,” I asked. 

“There were other disappearances around here,” he explained. “Their bodies were found torn up. We think we know what it is.”

“Do you mean ‘who’,” I tried to correct him. He shook his head. “Was it a wild animal?”

“No,” Dean sighed. “It was a vampire.”

“Okay,” I let out a sigh, trying not to get angry. “My roommate’s gone and you’re trying to be funny. I need you both to leave.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Leave,” I repeated. “It was nice seeing you.”

I should’ve listened to him. But when you lose someone so close to you, would you believe a man who runs in saying it was a vampire? Or would you think that someone was trying to make light of a really serious situation?

However; I knew I was wrong when I was almost attacked and Dean busted down my door. He had gotten tackled by the creature and I picked up the machete that Dean had dropped.

Dean had managed to shove the vampire so it landed on its back. Without hesitation, I lifted the machete up and brought it down to cut off the thing’s head. I flinched a little when the blood splashed before throwing the machete down.

“Are you okay,” Dean asked, touching my arm. I nodded, not looking away from the corpse. He hugged me tightly, hiding my face. “How did you know to decapitate it?”

“I thought it was a safe bet,” I mumbled. “Take out the head and the whole thing goes down.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “How about you go get in the shower and change? When you come back, it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

“O-okay,” I replied. 

I went upstairs and did what Dean had told me too.

He was right. I came downstairs and everything was gone. The blood, the machete, the corpse... even Dean. It was almost like I had imagined the whole thing. The only indication that I had actually seen anything was the smell of cleaner and my door, which had been kicked in.

Then, there were another three years. 

Now an active member of the working world, I had noticed something was off with a co-worker of mine. They went to the bathroom and I subtly checked out their cubicle. There was some yellow powder in the corner.

Also, there were a few people missing. I was scared it was going to be like what happened back home 

Oh, and then a familiar-looking F.B.I agent showed up at the office. There was someone with him... holy shit, was that Sam? When did he get so tall? I almost chuckled when they asked to talk to me in an empty conference room.

“Small world,” I commented after the door had shut. Dean chuckled before sitting in the chair next to me. “Is that you, Sam?”

“Nice to see you again, (Y/n).”

“Damn, you’re tall,” I noted. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Well, have you seen anything strange,” Dean asked. 

“Yes,” I nodded. He seemed shocked that I was so honest. “Besides the missing co-workers, there’s a guy about two cubicles over from me that has been acting different lately.”

“Did you find anything there?”

“Like...”

“Sulfur-”

“Yes,” I exclaimed. “Sorry, I couldn’t figure out what it was but sulfur is a yellow powder, it makes sense. I found it by his desk.”

“Were there any nights he worked late,” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “About three weeks ago, I asked him if he was heading out but he said he had last-minute work to do. I thought it was weird but it wasn’t my place to question him.”

“Thank you,” Dean said before standing up. I stood up with him and hugged him. 

“We keep meeting, Winchester,” I chuckled.

“Maybe it’s fate,” he joked in my ear before going to step back. 

“Good luck,” I waved before going to head back to my desk.

It wasn’t another three years until I saw Dean after that, I saw him a few days later. I had been sitting in my living room, reading a book when someone knocked on my door. Dean stood there in his normal jeans, shirt, and jacket with a small grin on his face. 

“I just wanted to stop by and thank you for your help,” he said. “We caught the demon because of you?”

“Sulfur equals demon,” I asked.

“Sulfur plus disappearances plus strange behavior does usually equal demon,” Dean replied. I nodded before chuckling. “I umm... you’re a natural at all of this.”

“What is ‘this,’“ I asked. 

“My family... hunts... things,” he explained. “We hunt monsters.”

“So that’s why you were always moving?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “And then we kept meeting. And you killed that vampire and helped us with that demon... you are a natural hunter. I know I can’t ask you to abandon everything and join Sam and me but I figured I’d let you know that the option is there.”

“Can you teach me to actually hunt and not just get lucky about it,” I asked. 

“Definitely.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it,” Dean asked. “You’re just gonna accept right away?”

“Either I accept now or we meet over another monster trying to kill me or people around me,” I replied. “I don’t want another multiple-year gap, Dean.”

“Oh.”

I smiled and looked down for a second. With a small moment of confidence, I leaned forward and kissed him softly. He moved closer to me and put a hand on my back and a hand on the door frame. 

“Come on,” I mumbled after pulling away. “You can help me pack. I am not leaving with one set of clothes.”

“Okay,” he nodded, following me inside. 

--Time Skip--

One year. That’s what I got with Dean. One year of hunting and staying in crappy motels and sometimes eating the crappy food that he somehow survived on. One year of being loved unconditionally and protecting each other.

I wouldn’t trade that year for anything. 

The only thing I wanted to get rid of was the memory of him getting dragged to hell. It haunted me. I couldn’t sleep. I could barely eat. I was pretty much useless when it came to hunting after that.

I ended up going home. Sam had dropped me off. I never unpacked completely. I had suitcases sitting in my room, a bag full of books, and a backpack of toiletries and supplies. I just wanted to go back to normal.

I thought I had... for about four months... and then a man in a trench coat and suit showed up on my doorstep.

“Um... how can I help you,” I asked awkwardly. He looked confused. 

“(Y/n),” he said.

“How do you know my name,” I went tense, ready to jump for one of the many weapons I had in my house.

“It’s me... Castiel,” he furrowed his eyebrows. “Oh my god... you don’t remember. They wiped your memory.”

“Who did? Who are you?”

“I’m Castiel, an angel,” he explained. “You’re (Y/n), an angel... a guardian angel specifically.”

“I’m calling the cops,” I sighed. 

“No,” Castiel mumbled. Before I could react, he put two fingers to my forehead and we were in a warehouse or barn of some form. “Now, look.”

He pointed at the wall behind me before putting some distance between the two of us. I jumped at the lightning but caught sight of the wings in the shadow.

“Holy shit,” I put my hands over my mouth. “Okay, okay. Who am I supposed to be a guardian angel to?”

“Dean Winchester,” he answered.

“Well, I fucked that up,” I mumbled.

“I understand why,” Castiel said. “I wasn’t aware that they had wiped your memory. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s why we kept meeting,” I said. “I was supposed to stay with him and protect him.”

“You couldn’t keep him from making that deal.”

“I didn’t even think about it.”

“We can fix this.”

“How?”

“I’ll teach you.”

--Time Skip--

“Stay here,” Cas directed me to the corner of a room. “You may overwhelm him. We need to approach this carefully.”

“Okay,” I nodded, practically shaking from nerves. 

I watched the entire interaction closely. Dean looked scared and nervous and confused. I wanted to help him.

“So you just yanked me out of hell,” Dean asked.

“No,” Cas shook his head before looking at me. I took that as a signal to move forward. “I just taught (Y/n) how to do it.”

“What,” Dean looked at me in shock. I felt tears in my eyes as I looked at him. Another flash of lightning went off, showing Dean both mine and Cas’s wings. “Holy shit.”

“To be fair, I only knew after you were gone,” I explained. “Heaven apparently wiped my memory before shoving me at a vessel. I grew up thinking I was a human.”

“You pulled me out of hell?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “It’s part of my job description.”

Dean ran over and hugged me. I felt myself breakdown. I was finally able to hug him again. Four months and he was back.

“I missed you so much,” I mumbled. “I’m so happy that you’re back.”

“I missed you too,” he said. “I... I love you.”

“I love you too,” I placed a hand in his hair.

“I’m guessing I should go,” we both looked over a Castiel. 

“Wait,” I stepped away from Dean. “I’m still new to this. How am I supposed to know what to do?”

“I’ll be there to help you,” he promised. “Also, you should be able to use your grace to help him. You know what to do. You just have to do it.”

“Thank you,” I nodded. Cas nodded back at and in a flash, he was gone.

“Come on,” Dean grabbed my hand. I turned to look at him again. “Baby’s waiting outside.”

“One second,” I mumbled. He furrowed his eyebrows at me. “God, you’re clueless.”

I stepped over and kissed him softly. Dean smiled against my lips and wrapped his arms around my waist. I pulled away and smiled before kissing his forehead.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” I grabbed his hand and started walking. “Come on, I want to get back on the road.”

“So do I,” Dean replied before pretty much dragging me to the car. “Plus, Sam’s waiting for food in a motel and is probably losing his shit.”

“How did he look,” I asked. I hadn’t seen him since he dropped me off at home. 

“He’s getting better.”

“He has an older brother to whip him back into shape,” I joked before jumping into the passenger seat. “Oh, Baby, I’ve missed you.”

“That’s exactly when my first reaction was.”

“I’m telling you... we’re connected by destiny.”

“And whoever’s calling the shots up there,” Dean chuckled before starting the car. 

It was really nice to be home. 

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

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[norahastuff]

Dean was applying to be a cop in the finale!? Gosh it’s like someone who’s never seen the show or only seen the first season wrote it. Deans never been a dog person. Dean would never leave Cas like that and have fun at that pie fest talking about moving on. Jesus not even a second of that episode was in character. I’m so sick of shows having s1 HIMYM like endings ugh

The thing is HIMYM? Yeah it was a bad finale and it didn’t make any sense to shoehorn in the ending they’d written back in s1 at the end of an 8 season-long series - characters grow and change in ways you wouldn’t expect them to back when you first created the series - but HIMYM foreshadowed that ending. A lot. The entire final season they pointed towards what was going to happen. Actually, even the season before had a couple of pretty anvil heavy scenes that showed what the endgame was eventually going to be. Spn didn’t do that.

I can very easily accept series finales I don’t like as long as they make sense and I can see how we got there. I’m a very “journey, not destination” kind of tv watcher, so a bad finale doesn’t usually ruin the rest of the story for me...this is kind of a first though. Because why spend so much of your season (seasons plural?) focusing on found family? On how important Dean and Cas’ relationship is? On what a profound impact Cas had on Dean’s life? On how Cas’ powers were fading? On all the problems with heaven and hell and the empty? That last one was a pretty big thing that was referenced in multiple episodes and then just no follow-up. All of that (besides the Dean and Cas stuff) was just handwaved by Bobby saying Jack fixed it. Actually that’s not true. Bobby said Jack fixed heaven, nothing about hell or The Empty.

I’ve been thinking about it lately trying to make sense of it all, and it felt very in tune with Singer’s vision of the show, or at least my perception of what I see as Singer’s version of the show based on the way I’ve heard him talk in interviews/panels over the years.  And I want to stress this is all just complete speculation on my part and I’m not even saying it’s what I think happened, we don’t really even know enough to say, but from everything I’ve heard him say in the past, it did seem like he had a very brothers only view of the show, and that his ending would reflect that. I mean Dabb wrote the episode...but he’s also been the showrunner that put the most focus on found family and growth, and you can’t see either of those things in the finale. I do hope that by some magic we someday see a pre-covid version of the script. It’s entirely possible it mightn’t be good either, Jensen did have problems with it, but I have to imagine it would at least make a little more sense. 

I mean at least we might have been spared Dean not being allowed to interact with anyone and anything in heaven besides his car and the double carry on extravaganza. Maybe there would have been some resolution of all those dropped plotlines. Maybe Cas and his impact on Dean’s life would have been granted more importance than a brief smile from Dean...though I still maintain how easy it would have been, even in this nonsensical version of the finale we got, for Sam and Dean to have a short conversation where Dean talks about how he’s trying to be the man Cas thought he was and needs to carry on and perhaps even *gasp* show some emotion about his best friend of12 years dying for him. That was the subtext of what Dean was doing anyway so why not just say it?

But if originally in the finale there was supposed to be some kind of acknowledgment of Cas from Dean (I’m not talking explicitly romantic here) it would maybe be possible to write off Dean not saying anything at the pie fest because we’d perhaps see it at another point. But in the version of the finale we saw, there was no “Dean’s feelings for Cas” related moment (Jimmy Novak related or otherwise - don’t get me started!) so it just seems hollow and empty.

I don’t know if Dabb was just done by the time post covid rewrites came around and didn’t want to revise the script taking into account that there wouldn’t been any Cas/Misha/Jimmy (lord help me) appearance. I mean it’s not a conspiracy to say Misha was supposed to be in the finale so Cas’ significance was going to be felt in some way (regardless of how big or small that was supposed to be) and yet in the final version there’s no real indication at all that Cas mattered, to the story or to Dean. Like it’s not rocket science to say if an important main character who’s been on the show for 12 years and has profound relationship with one of the lead characters, a relationship that was given extended focus in the final season, if that character or actor is supposed to have an appearance in the finale and it gets cut for whatever reason, you rewrite a scene or two to reflect what would have been shown in the cut scenes. And Dabb seemingly didn’t do that, for whatever reason.

So yeah...to be honest that’s kind of where I’ve landed on this. It looks to me like Dabb stopped trying and/or caring at the end, whether that’s because of external pressure or because he just thought “meh good enough” (I don’t doubt that Singer probably thought it was good enough) I mean I don’t think that’s something we’ll ever know unless he talks, and he’s not exactly known for being forthcoming. 

As for finding out the details of the original ending? I don’t know if/when that will happen, but it certainly seems more likely than Dabb revealing his motivations and decision-making process. 

Oh and the job thing...not to defend the finale but was it ever proven that the application was to be a cop? I didn’t notice it when I watched the ep, and I have no intention of rewatching it. I mean Dean’s in the database a dead serial killer many times over. Don’t think that would go down too well at the interview. 

Yeah and in regards to the dog...I got nothing. I think the thought process was Jensen looks adorable hugging a dog and since we’re throwing the rest of his character’s personality out the window, what’s one more trait?

[castielscarma]

Undercover

Part 9 of the #SpnStayatHome challenge @bend-me-shape-me​ @helianthus21​ @pray4jensen​ (it’s long. 11.5k) 

Dean paced back and forth in the Bunker kitchen, playing with a slinky. It was the metallic kind that had a heavy, sweet feeling to it as he held it in his hand. And the sound wasn't too bad either. It almost felt soothing, like the tick-tock sound a hypnotist used to lull his victims into a creepy sleep.

“Dean, would you stop that?” Sam looked up from reading his newspaper, an irritated frown on his face.

“What? Does the sweet sound of the magic spiral disturb your sudoku-solving abilities? Or is it crosswords this time?” Dean played with the slinky as he raised an eyebrow in question. “Come on, Sammy, don't tell me you're not even a little bit tempted to play with this wonder of technology?”

“The only wonder is that I haven't grabbed your slinky yet and thrown it out the window,” Sam muttered.

“Good luck with that, we live underground.” Dean grabbed hold of the slinky while taking a handful of peanuts from a small bowl on the table.

Sam reached for the bowl and pulled it towards himself. “Dude, these are meant to be for the Pad Thai later.”

Dean looked affronted. “Hey, you can't just put nuts in the snacks bowl – and the bowl is in a public space, so it's a free for all anyway – and expect the nuts not to get eaten. They're practically begging for it. Roasted, salted, and with a touch of sour cream. It's 'Nuttylious'. Man, they really were on point with that slogan.”

Sam just sighed and pushed the newspaper towards Dean. “You've been without a cause for almost fourteen days. You need to go out and hunt, Dean, and more importantly, I need you to go out and hunt. We need to do something while we try to find a way to defeat Chuck.”

Dean frowned and went for the bowl again. It earned him a slap on the hand. “Hey, I bought those!” When he saw that Sam wouldn't budge, he frowned. “Fine, I'll take a look at the creepy case. Let's see.”

After Sam had given Dean a few minutes and Dean still hadn't said anything, he couldn't be quiet anymore. “So, what do you think?”

Dean looked longingly at the peanuts. “I think it's really not cool for you to stash those nuts away.”

Sam smacked him on the arm. “I mean about the case, Dean!”

Dean sank down on the chair next to Sam. “You mean the killer that targets grooms?”

“Well, not just grooms. The second vic was a newlywed. The wedding had been less than three weeks earlier. The wife, Mrs. Karstark found Mr. Karstark on their kitchen floor. Body was drained and the heart was missing.”

“Mrs. Karstark felt betrayed. He cheated on her. I've seen Game of Thrones. They're a bloodthirsty lot.”

Sam shook his head. “Funny, Dean. The first victim was a groom. Found dead in the bedroom, two days before the wedding was to take place. Same m.o. No blood whatsoever left in the body and both the heart and stomach were gone.”

Dean sniffed. “Well, it looks like there's a monster lurking about. What do the local authorities say? Any leads?”

“Nope, they are going by the theory that a madman is on the prowl.”

“A madman? What about the drained blood?”

“They have no clue. Oh and this was also found on the scene – “ Sam pushed over a photo and a piece of paper towards Dean.

Dean looked at the photo at what appeared to be horizontal stains on a wooden floor. “What am I looking at? So the Karstarks were messy? We thinking the monster has a grudge against bad housekeeping? Maybe it just wants them to keep the area nice and clean. Would explain the loss of blood in the bodies. A bleeding body is a bitch to clean.” Dean glanced at the paper next to the photo. “Hold on, Sammy? These all happened in the same neighborhood?”

“Yes and from what the police think, the attacks happened at night time.”

“Mm, must be someone close by then. So either a monster or maybe a witch with a spell? Okay, I'm game. Let's go.”

Sam grabbed the papers and photos. “To Okay it is.”

Dean frowned. “I already agreed, Sam. Just gonna pack. Need my driving snacks.”

“No, the town's called Okay. It's a five-hour drive.”

Dean grinned. “Okay. Something is definitely not OK in Okay.”

“Then we're on the case?”

“Hell yeah.”

Six hours later Dean, Sam, and Cas arrived in the small town of Okay and pulled into a parking lot.

“It wasn't any five hours, but we're finally here. The fine town of Okay.” Dean looked around. “It looks kind of deserted to be the buffet table for a monster but hey, what do I know about monster diets? So, we going with the FBI thing or?”

Sam shook his head and smiled. “The trip only took that long because of you, Dean.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “It was a Thai buffet. You sample everything, that's the rule.”

Cas nodded. “He does like his Thai food, Sam.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah – About the FBI thing, Dean. I've given this some thought, and I think that it's in the best interest of the case that I don the FBI coat.”

Dean blinked. “What? You? You as in you solo? What about me and Cas?”

Cas looked back at Sam, an eyebrow raised. “You have a better idea than going in as FBI?”

Sam cleared his throat again and smiled slightly. “I was thinking that you and Cas need to be in the thick of it. We need to lure this creature out, whatever it is. And the common denominator is – “

“That it leaves its victims dry? That the victims all drove a Prius? I won't abandon Baby for some goddamn – “

“They were all in relationships newly formed, just married or really in love.”

Dean blinked. “So... you want me and Cas to do what? Play house?”

“Yes, let's call it that. I knew you guys would agree. There's a vacant house for rent on the same street as were two of the victims lived. I sent in the application yesterday. Since you were the only ones that applied and your records were spotless as were your references, and the recent murders make them eager to rent – “ Sam pointed at his phone “ – you're now officially renters, Mr. and Mr. Krushnic.”

He slid over an envelope that Cas grabbed. “I must say, Sam, you've been working very diligently with this case. We'll solve it in no time.” Cas opened the car door and stepped outside.

When Dean didn't follow, Cas poked his head back in. “If you don't like Krushnic we can always go with Plant.”

“It's not the last name I have a problem with! “Dean sputtered as he stepped out of the Impala.

Both Sam and Cas looked at Dean with patient but questioning faces. When Dean didn't elaborate further, Cas spoke. “If you're worried about our normal routines in the Bunker not being followed, nothing will change, Dean. I'll still make you coffee in the morning.”

Sam got out of the car, a smug look on his face. “See, nothing will change, Dean.”

Dean looked at Cas with huge eyes. “That's not – You know what? Gimme that folder, Sammy.”

Sam smiled and handed Dean the folder with the case information. “There's also some pamphlets for the local restaurants in there. Don't forget your bag, Dean Krushnic.”

“You couldn't have picked a better last name? What kind of name is Krushnic?”

Cas spoke up. “It does have a certain ring to it. I like it.

“The house is right over there. You'll receive the key shortly. Oh, and Miss. Lee, fiancee of the first victim lives right next door. I'll go and interview Jessica Karstark and we'll keep in touch on the phone afterward.”

“You not coming over?”

Sam shook his head. “You don't think it'll look suspicious if the FBI-agent that interviewed the people that last saw their loved ones dead under odd circumstances visit the new couple that just moved in? You just stay put. Act as normal as you can” – Sam raised a meaning eyebrow at Dean – “and I'll call you later.”

Dean grabbed the bag from the trunk. “I don't like this. Who says this monster, whatever the hell it is, will fall for me and Cas playing bait? Didn't you say relationships needed to be newly formed, like what? I've known Cas for over a decade. The monster will not fall for a stunt like that.”

“I'm sure you and Cas will be very convincing.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sam reached out and snagged Dean's keys.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Sam smiled patiently as he walked over to the Impala's driver seat. “I'm the FBI-agent. I need a car. Besides, you and Cas need to be at the house to lure out the creature. Try to find out what kind of monster we're dealing with.”

“You just gonna leave us here while you go play cop?”

“That's the plan. I'll play cop and you'll play house.” Sam pressed the gas and Baby roared to life.

“You got to be gentle! And don't park to close to the – “

Sam honked once as he drove off with the Impala.

Dean turned to Cas. “He better take care of Baby or I swear that – “

Cas grabbed his bag. “Sam is very much capable of taking care of Baby if you just let him.”

“Let him?! Did you see how he just floored – “

Cas was already a few steps ahead of Dean. “Come along, Mr. Krushnic. We have a house to move in to.”

The house was way better than a motel, so Dean couldn't really complain even if he wanted to. The kitchen was nice and modern, and Dean shouted excitedly at the garden out the back, not necessarily for the garden but for the huge outdoor grill that graced the space.

“Sweet, Cas. You see the size of that monster? We can barbecue some nice steaks on that grill.”

“It's very impressive, Dean.”

Back inside, Dean sat down in the L-shaped couch in the living room. The flatscreen was mounted on the wall and the house even had a minibar. “Oh, hell yeah, I'm really gonna like it here.”

Cas headed to the rooms upstairs. “We're not gonna stay here permanently, Dean.”

Like he didn't know that. “The screen is huge, Cas! Imagine us with a bowl of popcorn and a Western flick on, or a horror movie. 'Hatchet-Man 4 - the dull axe.' A classic.”

“Which side are you gonna take, Dean?”

Cas' voice sounded muted so Dean got up from the comfortable couch, – almost too comfortable, he felt himself dozing off – and followed him upstairs. “What are you shouting about?”

“I was just wondering which side you prefer?” Cas was standing in the bedroom.

There was a wardrobe there and the wall was painted in a soft blue-chalk paint. The huge window on the right side of the beds allowed the natural light to flood the room. Dean could imagine it being a nice view to wake up to. He could see another door that probably led to the on-suite bathroom but his eyes kept flitting back to the bed. He had totally forgotten about the sleeping.

“Um, I'm not really sure.”

“You do favor sleeping on your right side, Dean, so I'd suggest the right side of the bed. The additional closeness to the window will make it easier for you to wake up in the morning. Natural sunlight does wonders for when you want to wake up feeling refreshed.”

Dean swallowed. He was going to sleep in the same bed as Cas. They were gonna sleep together. Heat curled inside his stomach. Of course, they were not gonna sleep sleep together but Cas was going to be right next to him.

“Dean?”

Dean nodded. “Um, yeah Cas. That works fine. I'll do the right side.”

“Fine. Now that that's settled, let's see what we can gather about this case. We can shop for new bed linen, towels, and whatever else we need later.”

“Shopping for bed linen, Cas? Take it easy, there tiger.”

Cas gave him a strange look, so Dean cleared his throat. “I'll set up the laptop.”

An hour later, they had reread the police reports three times and not found any new leads.

Cas spoke up. “I think we should go over and interrogate Mrs. Lee. That way we can take a look at the crime scene. Maybe there's some hidden hex bags that the police overlooked?”

Dean rubbed his eyes. “So you think it's a witch?”

Cas got up and walked over to the kitchen. “That seems the most plausible scenario.”

“Yeah, what about the blood? What kind of vamp leaves them completely dry? I've looked at our vamps and the Carpathian kind. Might be a muroni. The bodies were drained of all blood.”

“Muroni? But those markings were not made by an animal, even by the looks of it, though the authorities might go for that angle.”As Cas opened a kitchen cabinet, he made a pleasing sound. “Not the usual, but it'll do.” He grabbed something and bend down, opening another cabinet.

“Cas, we're talking case here. What are you doing?”

“Well, since we're doing this husband chicanery I think we should go all in, Dean. So, as any good husband, I'm making you coffee.”

Dean's heart beat faster, which was ridiculous. It was just coffee, which Cas made him every morning. It was not like this coffee was different. “Uh, thanks.”

Cas was putting the ground coffee in the machine when he turned to Dean. “What do you prefer, honey, or sweetheart?”

Dean turned to Cas, all thoughts about what he'd just read erased. “I don't follow...”

“Since we are married, we need to have an affectionate nickname to call each other. That is standard among married couples I think.”

Cas seemed to be taking the marriage- ruse very seriously. As he should, Dean mused. They wanted to catch this monster, and if Dean needed to go all in – all in, in the name of the case of course – then he would. It was just the professional thing to do and Dean Winchester was a pro.

“I think honey would work.”

After he turned on the coffee-maker, Cas returned to the table. “Honey it is. How about you? What will you call me?”

Cas stared at Dean with such an honest expression that Dean had to turn away. “I don't know, it's not like I have given this much thought.” Which was a lie. In the deepest recesses of Dean's heart, he'd given much thought about how a life with Cas would be like, a slightly different life where they were more than just best friends hunting monsters together.

“I have a few suggestions that will pair nicely with honey,” Cas mused. After a beat of silence, he said. “How about 'hubs?”

“You're not going to call me 'hubs' in public, Cas. No way. Let me think.” He was silent for a few seconds, then he smiled. “ I got it! 'Beeloved'? You get it? Bee cause I'm the honey and you're the bee that...” Dean saw something flicker over Cas' face but it was gone so fast, that Dean was not sure if it hadn't just been his imagination.

“It is a nice joke but I do think we need to take this more seriously if we want to lure out the monster.”

“Yeah, monster.” The nickname was on the tip of Dean's tongue without a second thought. “Angel.” He cleared his throat. “Angel would work.”

Cas' smile was so earnest that Dean had to look away. “Honey and angel.”

A sudden knock on the door interrupted them. Maybe that was for the better, this whole fake marriage thing was getting under Dean's skin and only a couple of hours had passed. He needed a beer.

A woman dressed in a yellow summer dress flashed her smile as Dean opened the door. She had her hair up in a tight ponytail and her slanted eyes crinkled in the corners as she smiled. “Greetings. I'm Chiyoh Roman. I live just across the street and I'm the president of the HOA committee in this area. I'm so happy to have you here. Here.” She handed Dean a tiny basket stuffed with tea, candies, and fruit, all neatly wrapped in cellophane.

Dean looked at the basket and back at Chiyoh. Candies and fruit. Where were the beer and coffee?

“Here, let me take that, honey.” Cas swooped in and grabbed the basket from Dean. “Leaf tea? How thoughtful, we love this, don't we, Dean?” Cas casually kissed Dean on the cheek.

It was just a swift kiss but Dean's body reacted as if it was a love declaration. His stomach swooped as an unnamed feeling washed over him. His mouth went dry.

Cas had kissed him.

Dean's rational mind tried to tell him that it was all due to the undercover gig they had going on but his heart refused to listen to that. Already hope surged inside him, that maybe, just maybe Cas felt the same about him as Dean did.

Cas noticed that Dean was silent and gave him an odd look. “Thank you so much for the welcoming gift. Excuse my husband, it's been a long week with the move and all. He's usually more well behaved.” He extended his hand. “I'm Castiel Krushnic and this is my husband Dean.”

Chiyoh laughed. “Oh, I totally get that moving is rough.” She shook Cas' hand. “Chiyoh. Nice to meet you.”

Dean finally found himself and cleared his throat. “Sorry, Castiel is right. It was a long drive, moving can be exhausting. I'm Dean.”

“Nothing makes me happier than a handsome couple like you gracing our neighborhood with your presence. As long as the relationship is thriving, and not the grass, we'll be good.” She laughed again, a shrill sound that grated.

Dean narrowed his brows in confusion. “The grass?”

“Yes, HOA regulations stipulate that the grass might not grow above two inches. I suggest you buy an automover. It's much easier to keep the grass short that way, and we don't have to pollute our neighborhood with noise. Well, I'm off but I'll see you around the neighborhood.”

As the door closed behind them, Dean looked at Cas. “We are solving this case quickly. “I'm not going to buy an automover. HOA! What does that even stand for? Homeowners outright anal? Two inches!”

“I don't think you have to be a homeowner to enjoy anal, Dean.”

Dean blinked. “What? That's not what I –

Cas titled his head in confusion.

Dean shook his head. “Let's go over and see what we can find out about miss Lee and her late fiancee.”

As they closed the door behind them and walked on the small walkway to the neighboring house, Cas' hand snaked into Dean's.

Dean stopped and looked at Cas in horror, sure that it had been a mistake. He didn't want to be caught showcasing one inch of his true feelings towards the angel. But Cas laced his fingers tightly with Dean's and gave him a short smile. His voice was low and he spoke carefully. “I hope this is good?” After a brief pause, he added. “For the case.”

Dean could only nod. “Yeah, for the case.”

When they arrived at the door, Dean couldn't bear to let go of Cas' hand to knock. Sure, he might have drenched Cas' hand in sweat but it felt wrong to let go. It was nice to have Cas' hand in his, to feel that strong hand against his own skin. Dean pictured Cas relaxing even more, his thumb casually stroking Dean's skin.

He knocked harshly on the door with his other hand, banishing all fantasies.

A buxom woman opened. Her hair had light brown curls but they seemed matted and it looked like she had slept in her pants and hoodie. They were wrinkly and when she smiled, it seemed hoarse. She was guarded as she spoke. “Yes?”

“Hi, Ms. Lee. Sorry to bother you. We just wanted to say hi. We're your new neighbors, moved in today actually. I'm Dean and this is Castiel.”

Cas nodded. “I'm Dean's husband.”

Dean tried not to shake his head.

“Oh, I'm Laura. I wasn't aware that – “ She stopped and chewed her lips. “I'm sorry, come in. Me and my – .“ She paused, and her face twisted.

As Dean closed the door, Laura started sobbing. “I'm so sorry. I don't wanna burden you, it's just... I'm having it really rough right now. I just lost my fiance. I don't know why I'm telling you this, you're strangers.” She wiped at her eyes. “I'm sure you don't wanna – “

Cas put a comforting arm around her. “Sometimes an unburdened heart helps, even if it's to strangers.”

They sat down in Laura's living room; an open space with a huge couch, dark wooden floors and windows with curtains that were closed.

“It's messy. I sleep down here since... I can't step foot in the bedroom. I'm heading out of town this evening. Going to be with my sister for a while. The police have my number. I'm sure they'll have more questions.” Her eyes flitted to a wall with a picture of her and her fiancee. “It's hard being here. Everything reminds me of William.”

Dean nodded in sympathy. “Do you have any idea of who could've wanted to harm William?”

Laura shook her head. “No. We moved here a year ago. William was the kindest man, always saw the good in people. I think that's one of the reasons I fell for him. We met in college, and sure, he goofed around like any other guy there but there was this genuine, sweet feeling about him you know.” She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “And this is a good neighborhood. With good people...”

Dean reached out and stroked her hand. “I'm very sorry for your loss, Laura.”

Laura looked up and nodded. “I... I need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back.” She moved past him and Cas.

Dean and Cas looked at each other and stood as one. They searched quickly and when they found the bedroom, they silently opened the door.

Everything looked normal which – Dean figured – made it harder for Laura. With a room that was disturbed or contained evidence that something gruesome had happened, the mind at least had something tangible to cling to, even though the heart refused.

Cas headed over to the headboard when something made him stop. “Dean.”

Dean was there and looked down at the floor, where Cas was pointing. “It looks like some marks on the floor, like something wet was trailed along the wood. It seems out of place.”

Cas bent down to the floor and sniffed it.

“Dude, no.”

“I don't smell anything besides human blood. And I can't sense any residue of magic, angelic grace, or anything demonic.”

Dean grimaced. “That's good but next time don't stick your nose in it. You still thinking witch?”

“It's a possibility.”

They searched the room quickly, looking for hidden spaces in the wardrobe or secret hideouts in the walls or bed were a hex bag could've been stashed. They found nothing.

They were back in the living room as Laura come back.

Cas' voice was sympathetic. “We are heading out. It was not our intention to bother you.”

Laura shook her head. “It's alright.”

They parted at the door. As they were heading out, Dean noticed a pamphlet on the dresser. Welcome to Perfection Peak. Where we peak beyond perfection. HOA greetings and guidelines.” He doubted Laura would think her time in the neighborhood was perfect. Dead fiancees hardly screamed peak perfection. What did that even mean?

Dean looked at Cas. “Alright, let's talk case but first we need to go shopping. I'm starving. We need to put food in the fridge, and pour some drinks down our throats.”

Luckily, the local Wilmart was just a fifteen-minute drive away.

Cas took a cart and they strolled in together. Dean worried his underlip. Maybe he should hook his arm in Cas' arm? But that would make it awkward to push the cart and they were supposed to act as husband and husband, not a couple of lovesick teenagers that couldn't get enough of each other and went all touchy-feely in the middle of the supermarket.

Dean had a sudden vision of Cas' ripping his shirt off, buttons flying everywhere in the middle of the fruit aisle and them kissing with all the gusto from a couple in a romance novel.

“Honey. Honey... Honey!”

Dean startled as he realized Cas was calling for him. “Yeah, wings, what's up?”

Cas arched an eyebrow as Dean walked over to him. “Wings? I thought we agreed on angel. Wings sound like you want to eat me.”

Dean swallowed harshly and pushed down the positive answer, that yeah, he wouldn't mind that at all.“I improvised.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry for going blank there, I was just uh, thinking about the case and everything we know so far.”

Cas answered in his gravely voice. “It's OK. Yellow or red bell peppers?”

“It's not Sam you're married to. I don't eat red stuff if it ain't meat... or ketchup.”

“Your doctor said that your cholesterol is high, Dean. I just think some vegetables would go nicely with our tacos. I'll go grab the avocados.”

“Ourdoctor has never said – “ Cas just winked at Dean and headed over to the pre-smashed guacamole section.

Dean grumbled and grabbed some dressing. He was not sure what he'd put it on, but it would come to him eventually.

“We can do some chicken wings and oven-baked potatoes. I already bought potatoes,” Cas announced proudly.

“Good thinking, Cas. I bought dressing. For your uh, bell peppers.”

“Our bell peppers. We can shop for two meals in advance. Roasted chicken in the oven and tacos. Quite fortunate, since it's a Thursday today. We'll do Taco Thursdays. Like everyone else.”

Dean felt a pang of longing in his chest at Cas' words. Sure, he knew what he was. A badass hunter, the gatekeeper against evil, the guy that saved the world. Together with Sam, Cas and Jack of course and he liked doing that. He was good at that. But he was also acutely aware of what was missing in his life.

He glanced at Cas who was perusing the taco aisle, picking up salsa, tortillas, and nachos. He'd have Cas any way he could. If that were just as friends, cause he had no delusions Cas liked him as more, then so be it.

The phone rang just as Cas looked back at Dean. He waved at him to go ahead and took the call.

“Hi, Sam. What you got for us? Any leads?”

“So get this. I talked to Mrs. Karstark. She was understandably upset but agreed to talk. The police report matches up. She found him in the kitchen, body completely drained. Heart and stomach were gone.”

“Right. Same as our first vic. Maybe the monster was in a rush for the second killing and only had time to take the heart.”

“Maybe. And judging by the police report both attacks happened at night. So it probably means that this is a creature that's nocturnal, and sleeps during the day. Or it can be in hiding, either somewhere safe or walking disguised as a human.

“Cas and I talked to Ms. Lee. We did some off-the-record investigating and nada on the hex bags or anything like that. But Cas did find some odd spot on the floor. Almost like something wet had been dragged – “

“ – dragged along the floor.”

“Huh, I hear it's the same as with Mr. Karstark.”

“Yes, but it was more than an odd spot on the floor. I saw blood.”

“Hmm. And it can't be Karstark's and Lee's cause their bodies were drained so we know it came from our mystery monster.”

Cas came up to Dean and stroked his arm before pulling at him gently. A rush swept over Dean with feelings he didn't have time to dissect, especially not at a freaking Wilmart. “I think we're done, honey. I grabbed the last items so we're ready to head to checkout.”

“Thanks... Ca – “ Dean stopped himself when Cas looked at him intently. “Angel.”

Cas seemed pleased as he walked away.

“Honey and angel, eh? Seems you and Cas are doing pretty good on the whole marriage thing.”

“Fake marriage, Sam. This is just a trap for our monster, alright. We need to ace this.”

“Well, no worries there, you're really nailing it, Dean. Oh, I also found an opened letter from the HOA, signed from a Ms. Chiyoh.”

Dean perked up at that. “Really? What it say?”

“It was a notice for them to maintain their lawn properly. Cut the grass and prune the apple trees.”

Dean rubbed his eyes. The HOA really was everywhere. Dean stopped. “Did Mrs. Karstark say anything about a fight or her and her husband not getting along? Him cooking meth on the side and hiding his cancer kind of thing?”

“What, no? No, they had barely been married a month. From what I gathered from her, and the written statements from friends and family that were interviewed, they seemed happy. Extremely so. They'd been together for years before tying the knot and friends said they acted like they'd just met.”

“Alright, let's keep in touch. I need to finish grocery shopping now.”

“How domestic.”

“Shut up, Sammy.”

“I'll text you the address to my hotel. We'll talk later tonight after we hit up the lore books now that we have more to go on.

“Right, lore books...”

“You did not pack any... Fine, see what you can find online then. Bye, Mr. Krushnic.”

“Bitch,” Dean muttered into the phone, but Sam had already hung up.

Dean grabbed a bag of barbecue coals and a six-pack of beer. They were not doing the chicken wings in the freaking oven. No, Mr. and Mr. Krushnic were barbecue-pros and since it looked like they'd be in the house for some time, they were making the most of it.

“The potatoes are in the oven, thyme and salt on them.” Cas handed Dean a beer.

He opened it and sighed in satisfaction as he sat down on the recliner in the backyard. “This is nice, Cas. Sun is out, meat is getting charred, cold beer in hand, you and me just chilling. ”

“I don't think charred meat is that pleasant but I agree with the rest of your sentiment.” Cas took a gulp of his beer and grabbed Dean's hand. “You don't have a ring on.”

“So put a ring on it.” Dean laughed but Cas looked serious.

“It is a custom that husbands have rings. It's an outward sign of claim. Do you want a ring?”

“I'm sure that people will believe we're married.” Dean eyed Cas' blue T-shirt, how it fit snugly, highlighting all the muscles that the usual trench coat outfit hid. He licked his lips. “We're already at the coordinated clothes stage.” Dean pointed at his own blue T-shirt. “See, we're practically married anyway.”

Cas squinted at Dean but didn't say anything.

“I mean in theory. I'm not saying that we – we are married, it's not like we have a marriage license. Not that I wouldn't say no... but for the case...” A marriage license? He needed to shut up, like yesterday. “I'ma go and see if the chicken wings are done. Go set the table.”

“I already did that. And made the bed, and cleaned the bathroom.”

Dean shook his head. “Wow, Cas. You're the Energizer bunny. When did you have time to do all that?”

“When you tried to achieve the 'perfect marinade'. It's good to know that one of us is organized.”

“I'm organized. Who did you think fixed all the dirty laundry Sam created when he was a teenager? Or who had to clean up all his messes when he was in his terrible two's – which went on way beyond him being two I might add? But marinades take time, Cas. It's like the finest spell work, each ingredient necessary for the final product. You can say I'm a marinade magician.” Dean flashed a smile towards Cas.

“Let's not say that,” Cas grumbled. “Do you want us to do some more research before dinner?”

Dean knew that they should; they were not in Okay to have dinner parties and sunbathe but for once, one part of the hunt was to actually do some R&R, and Dean wanted to just savor that moment. Savor time alone with Cas. “Nah, let's just enjoy ourselves for a moment.”

“I can't believe that you actually think Val Kilmer is the superior Batman. Do I even know you, Cas? Have you not seen the recent Batman movies?”

Cas chewed on a potato, shaking his head. “No, it wasn't on your list.” He paused for a moment. “If you want we can watch one of the Batman movies with Christian Bale. To rectify that mistake.”

“Alright.” Dean tried not to get too excited. They were actually doing Netflix and chill in the literal sense, nothing else.“I'd love to.” A buzz in his pocket made him jump up.

He fished up his phone. It was a message from Sam. I think I found it. Look up the Manananggal.

The man and the gal? “Time to hit the computer, Cas.”

“I think this is it, Dean. A cannibalistic vampire that sucks its victims dry.”

Dean took a sip from his beer. “Sure fits the bill. Anything on how it chooses its victims?”

Cas was silent for a moment, reading. “It says here that the manananggal haunts newlyweds and couples in love. I wonder why Sam thought we would be able to bring it out.” He looked at Dean quickly before averting his gaze.

Dean coughed slightly. “Um, the fake marriage thing. If it thinks we're married, it might just go for us.”

“We are in a fake marriage, Dean. You think this will be sufficient?”

“Hope so.”

“I think the best course of action is to 'lay it on real thick' as the kids say. Make the manananggal believe we're married.”

Dean took another swipe of his beer but it did nothing to mitigate the dryness in his throat. He and Cas had been holding hands all freaking day outside. Not that Dean objected but what else could they do? “Provoke it and goad it into attacking us. So we need to exude love and sunshine?”

“I wouldn't put it exactly like that but yes.”

A line further down caught Dean's attention. “Check this out. The word manananggal means “the one who separates itself. Apparently it hunts at night and hides the lower body somewhere since it's vulnerable. It becomes immobile. The upper half of the torso sprouts wings and off it goes hunting for couples. It was left at the altar so that's why it targets grooms.”

“That makes sense with which people were attacked.”

“Oh, and it drags its body along, entrails hanging out and sucks its victims dry with an elongated tongue. You remember those marks we saw on the floor. God, that must have been... fluids left behind from its inside bits saying hello. Gross.”

“Nothing on how to kill it though. Maybe Sam can check his lore books, there might be additional information there. You can pour salt in the corner of your house to shield yourself from it.”

“Mm, but we don't want that, Cas. We want the son-uva-bitch to come to us.”

Cas leaned into Dean, their arms pressing against each other. A flush of warmth passed over Dean. He needed to stop, Cas just wanted a better look. “You see this, Dean?”

Dean read the paragraph. “Great. It's can disguise itself as a human during the day. So we're looking for something that looks like a human.”

“Yes. But we still don't really know how it knows who is in love or newly married.”

Dean shut the laptop down. “No. If it poses as a human, it must be someone who knows everything about the neighborhood. A person that's nosy. An old lady! They're nosy. Always spreading gossip and chit-chatting about Sudoku. We know about any old neighbors around?”

“No, most seem to be fairly young or families with kids.”

“Great.” Let's just try to refocus tomorrow. Now we have a lead at least.”

The hours passed quickly and Cas seemed to enjoy the movie. “Are you still gonna claim Val Kilmer is superior?” Dean spat the toothpaste foam in the sink and continued brushing.

“This Christian Bale had his points. But I do think his voice was rather gravely.”

Dean shook his head and paused his brushing, the toothbrush hanging by the corner of his mouth. “There's no such things as a voice being too gravely, Cas. People dig gravely voices... Your voice is gravely.”

Cas stopped his brushing. “It is. Do you... dig my gravely voice?”

“Uh, I mean, not that I've put much thought too it but. I – You do have a gravely voice, I've noticed that.”

Cas cleaned his toothbrush. The harsh bathroom light did nothing to hide the intensity of the blue in his eyes. He leaned in close to Dean and put the brush back in its place. “Mm.”

“It's nice. Your voice I mean.” Dean tried not to think about how Cas' body pressed against his own and how much he enjoyed the feeling.”

“It is nice. But do you like it?” Cas waited patiently like this was some goddamn quiz that Dean needed to pass.

Dean was under no illusion that he was gonna ace this, he was failing miserably. “I do?”

Cas just hummed and raised his finger to Dean's cheek. Casually he swiped over Dean's skin. “You have something there, honey.”

The touch left a burning trail behind and Dean feared to speak. He was wide-eyed and trying not to moan with the sheer hotness of it all.

“Some toothpaste.”

“Mm, I'm a messy brusher,” Dean whispered.

“I know.” It seemed that Cas wanted to say something more but he turned and left Dean alone with his very confused feelings.

Dean sat down on the toilet, only to stand up again. He splashed his face with some water but it still felt like his face was on fire. He needed to remind himself that this was only fake. Cas did not love him for real, not like that. This was all in the name of catching some two-piece winged vamp monster.

As Dean walked into the bedroom, he saw Cas in bed. Under the freaking covers.

His body went cold. He had not thought about sleeping arrangements at all. “I see you picked a good spot there, Cas.” He laughed hoarsely.

“Yes. Husbands sleep together, you can join me.”

Dean chased away all the images of himself and Cas his mind provided at Cas' statement. “Right. Of course.” He slipped down under the covers and tried not to be acutely aware of the warmth coming off of Cas' body. He was like a furnace or maybe it was Dean's own body that was on fire.

Cas turned off the lights. “Good night, Dean.”

“Good night, Cas.” Dean exhaled slowly and turned to the side. He realized that he was facing Cas' face, mere inches apart from his own. Who the fuck made this bed and how on earth was this considered a proper size for two adults?

Cas looked at him. “I don't require much sleep. I think I'll meditate for a while.”

“Like that? With open eyes?” “I can get up if you want.” Cas paused.

Dean waited for something more but when it didn't come he broke the silence. “No. Stay. I can sleep anyway.” Dean turned the other way and stiffened when he felt Cas' groin pressed against his ass. He didn't know what to do. If he moved, then things would get really awkward. If he didn't move... well, things were already awkward.

Dean decided to go for option number three: breathe slowly and hope sleep would find him quickly.

The light shone through the blinds. Dean stirred slowly, squinting against the sun. As he turned, the fleeting thoughts from a dream came to him. Someone that had intimate knowledge about the area and its people. Someone who greeted him and Cas as soon as they moved in. The HOA woman, Chiyoh Roman!

Dean was about to shake Cas awake to tell him his Eureka moment when he became aware of things that were not his body. During the night, Cas had snuggled in close or maybe it was Dean and now they were clinging to each other like overcooked spaghetti.

Dean realized that his left arm was heavy and numb. It was stuck under the pillow and Cas had put his head over it, effectively strangling all blood-circulation for God knew how many hours. His arm was draped over Dean's waist and their legs were touching each other.

He stayed like that for a while, pretending that this was mutual. Something that they both wanted and not an accident of nightly sleep movements. Cas stirred in his sleep, turning more towards Dean.

A smile bloomed on Dean's face. Cas really was beautiful. He never had time to really look at Cas unapologetically but now he took it. Cas' disheveled hair, the fullness of his lips, how his eyelashes cast tiny shadows underneath his eyes. The smoothness of his skin. Dean wanted to reach out and touch him.

Azure blue eyes looked at him suddenly.

Dean startled and tried to move away but his arm was still stuck under Cas' pillow. He pulled harder and Cas' head flopped up and then down on the pillow again.

Cas flew from the bed but where he was elegant, like a swan or some other bird creature – Dean did know jackshit about birds – he managed to tangle himself into the bed sheets and fell face-first on the carpeted floor.

He groaned and wished that the earth would swallow him.

Cas was by his side and pulled him up to kneeling. “Dean, are you alright?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks to whoever invented polypropylene, right?”

“You do have a thick skull, I think you'd be fine even without the carpet.”

Dean glared at Cas, and suddenly the embarrassment he felt earlier was gone. It quickly came back when he realized he was staring at Cas' groin. He hurriedly got up on his feet.

Cas cleared his throat. “Here.”

Time stopped as if this was a pivotal moment. Dean imagined touching Cas purposefully, taking his hand and holding it to his chest as any husband would do. Husband. If things could be so effortless between them. Not necessarily that Dean wanted to marry Cas but to know that Cas loved him like he loved Cas, that would have been a good thing.

Dean smiled slightly, red coloring his cheeks – he really enjoyed looking at Cas when he slept, although it made him sound like a creep. “I can't,” he chuckled.

“What do you mean?”

“My arm is asleep. I couldn't move it if my life depended on it.”

“Oh,”. Cas looked surprised but sprang into action. “I'll do it.” He spread the cover and went around Dean. Wrapping his arms around Dean's waist, he tied the cover off.

“Thank you,” Dean whispered.

“You're welcome, honey.” Cas' hands lingered on Dean's skin and when they fell away, a stab of disappointment hit Dean.

“Anytime angel.” After a moment of silence, Dean groaned. “Crap, we were supposed to eat tacos yesterday! It was Thursday and all.”

“I don't understand Dean, it was you who insisted we barbecue. And I fail to see how this is so relevant that you jump out of bed.”

“It's not about the tacos, Cas, even though that was a huge mistake. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you when we get back to the Bunker. It's about the house lady!” He pointed towards the window.

Cas looked at Dean and spoke slowly. “We don't have... a cleaning service.”

Dean shook his head, and grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on. “No, no. You remember how we read that the Manananggal could shift? The HOA person! Chiyoh! It's the perfect disguise. If she doesn't suck your energy dry by wanting you to mow the freaking lawn four times a week and grow yellow tulips, then she sucks you dry literally because she's jealous of your awesome love life.”

“That sounds plausible, but we don't exactly have a love life, Dean.”

We could fix that, Dean wanted to say. But he was not that big of an idiot. “We do as we've done in this marriage until now, Cas.” Dean grinned. “We fake it.”

Cas was more efficient than Dean and had already put on causal clothes while Dean was still fiddling with his T-shirt. “I mean, think about it. It all makes sense. She greets all the new-comers, probably does a whole fucking interview while spilling all HOA-rules and there she has time to do her manananggal magic and sniff out the ones that are high on the love-juice.”

“That may be, but how do you propose we get close to her?”

“Oh, I have a plan.” Dean walked over to the wardrobe and dove in. After a few seconds, he pulled out a pair of binoculars. “Ha, look at these babies, Cas. Premium quality, for Wilmart anyway, and most importantly, they have night vision!”

During breakfast, they called Sam.

”Hey, Mr. Krushnic and Mr. Krushnic. How is life?”

Dean swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs and drank a sip of juice, letting the silence drag on.

“Dean?”

Cas raised an eyebrow but Dean shook his head.”

“Dean, can you hear me?”

“Nope, Mr. Krushnic is deaf to bullshit.”

Sam sighed on the other end of the line. “Alright, sorry. Now tell me why you called.”

“Chiyoh, the HOA-lady. Her name come up during the investigation?”

“No, I mean, yeah, since they found a card with her name on it. They talked to her briefly but let her go. There was no physical evidence whatsoever to tie her to the crime scene – the card could've been from an earlier time. And no motive according to the detectives. You thinking she's the manananggal?”

“Yep. I think we should pay her a nightly visit and check if she has a penchant for blood-sucking.”

“Alright, so what's the plan?”

After relaying the plan to Sam, Dean and Cas agreed to meet later in the evening.

“You think the bait will work?” Cas sounded skeptical.

Dean nodded. “Of course, angel. We fake it until we make it.” He smiled but the words tasted bitter on his tongue. He got up.

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere, just need to clean my gun. You can never be too prepared.” Grabbing his plate with some leftover eggs, Dean moved to go to the kitchen.

Cas intercepted him, a hand on his arm holding him back. His blue eyes shone with concern. “Dean, are you alright? You haven't even touched your coffee.”

Dean glanced at the full mug and cleared his throat. “Mm, I'm fine, Cas.” The truth was that he wasn't fine. He was glad they were close to catching the monster, but a substantial part of him dreaded them leaving the house. Sure, Cas was not really his husband, but the stolen glances, and hand-holding – how they had slept close together at night – he was going to miss that.

Cas smiled weakly. “A marriage requires honesty.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Funny, Cas. Fine... I'm just gonna – miss this.”

“Sleep-ins, a hearty breakfast and monster hunting. We do that all the time.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

As the day progressed, Dean got antsier. It was an odd combination of preparing for the night's hunt and losing something that he'd finally gotten a taste of, something that he wanted more of. He wanted not just more, he wanted all of it. If his want was a spine, he was ready to crack it open and suck that marrow out.

They were almost home from an evening walk Cas insisted that they take. Dean had complained but it felt nice and it was yet another excuse to hold Cas' hand. He ignored the voice that added 'one last time' to his every thought.

“Tacos tonight?”

“Sure, Cas.”

“Alright, honey.” Cas smiled proudly and waited. When Dean didn't say anything, Cas poked him in the chest.

“Fine. Alright, angel. Tacos sounds good.”

Cas squeezed Dean's hand. “Can't wait for those bell peppers to be eaten. I've prepared them. I read somewhere that cooking food can be a good way to bring couples together.”

“So can fucking.” What was wrong with him? Did just a few days with Cas playing at being his husband rob him of all common sense?

Cas was silent for a beat, then a small smile played on his place. “So can fucking. I'll start with the tacos.” He turned, hesitated for a brief second and then leaned in close to Dean, giving him a soft peck on the cheek.

Dean was almost starting to think that Cas flirted with him... but on the other hand, he was probably just really into capturing the blood-sucking creep.

The tacos were good, even with the bell peppers, Dean had to give Cas that.

“So I trust I'll see bell peppers on the table from now on when we have taco night?”

Dean wiped his mouth and opened another beer. “Sure, Sam will be ecstatic. What time is it?”

“Soon eight.”

“Since we're not getting any shut-eye tonight, let's watch a movie or... do you have something else in mind?”

Cas seemed thoughtful for a second. “I've been thinking. We should maybe do something that really brings couples together. Just to solidify this... husband bond so that the Manananggal really picks our house tonight.”

Dean's mind flashed to them in bed, legs tangled together, Cas' arm draped over him. “Uh, sure.”

Cas walked over to a cupboard and picked up a Wilmert-bag. He opened it and brought out a square-shaped box.

Looking at the box, Dean huffed out a small laugh. “You want us to play Scrabble?”

“It's a fine game, Dean. Competitive, hones your word-skills and we get the satisfaction of doing something together.”

Dean grabbed a rag and wiped down the kitchen table. “When we agreed to do this whole fake-marriage thing I should have specified what stage of marriage. I had in mind more newlyweds and less old retired couple-vibe. But hey, we are doing something together so that's always something.”

After too many games to count, Dean finally glanced at the clock. “It's way past midnight. Let's go.”

They both left the game standing and walked upstairs to the bedroom.

Cas picked up his phone, his fingers flashing as he typed a message. “There, message to Sam is sent.”

Dean checked his gun and grabbed the tiny bag he'd prepared earlier. “Man, all the sneaking will be ruined by this stupid bag. She will smell us a mile away.”

“It's one of the few things that can hurt it according to lore and if your plan works, she won't be near us anyway.”

“I know but still. It's a ton of garlic.” Dean grabbed the spare covers, pillows, and blankets they had and bulked up their bed. Then he pulled the covers over it. Finally, he put a detached mop head on the pillow.

“What's that supposed to be?”

Dean smacked his tongue. “Hair, Cas. And in the dark, she won't see that it's grayish.”

Cas walked around the bed, surveying Dean's work. “What about my hair?”

“You don't need hair. Your head is under the covers.”

“Really? That's a strange sleeping position.”

“Yeah, you always had weird sleeping habits. Thankfully, Mr. Krushnic loves you anyway.” Dean froze and glanced at Cas.

Cas walked up to Dean slowly. “He does?”

“Yeah...” Dean's voice was hoarse.

“That's good to know.” Cas looked intently at Dean, as if he waited for something more to be spoken. Finally, he spoke, his voice cautious. “Any specific reasons why?”

If silence could thunder, Dean's mind would be a freaking storm. After what seemed to be way too long, Dean found his ability to speak again. “Uh... I mean you're an awesome person, Cas. Strong, loyal – I don't know how many times you've stood by me, even when you shouldn't. You're smart as hell, smarter than Sam and that says a lot – that guy was basically born with a book in his hands. You're... I mean Dean Krushnic would say that you're easy on the eye. From a purely neutral standpoint.”

Cas smiled faintly but there was an odd fire there. “I see.” He reached up and touched Dean's cheek.

Dean was sure he would spontaneously combust, right on the spot. “Yeah,” he managed to rasp out.

“Dean Krushnic seems like a catch. I'm curious about another man though.”

A faint but sudden burst of jealousy coursed through Dean. He tried to relax his face, as not to frown. “Who?”

“What does Dean Winchester think about me? Does his sentiment echo Dean Krushnic's?” Cas dropped his hand but his gaze commanded attention. “Do you... love me, Dean?”

Dean had no idea how this had happened. He tried to recall how they ended up with Cas asking Dean, not the fake Dean, but the real bacon-loving, beer-drinking, song-singing Dean– and came up blank. But he knew by all that he held holy that he did love Cas.

“I – “

Suddenly Cas moved away from Dean and ran to the window.

Dean was confused for a brief moment before realizing what was happening. He grabbed his night-vision binoculars and ran to the opposite side of the window. “Where?”

Cas pointed to a window on the first floor, in the house across the street. “There, by the kitchen.”

A small movement flashed in the room before it was gone. It didn't have to mean anything; a lot of people were up after midnight but Dean was sure that Chiyoh was not like other people. He was sure she was not people at all.

Dean squeezed his googles and let his gaze go to the left. There, behind another car, he saw the Impala. Sam would go in as soon as she left the house. Two huge trees grew nearby and together with the darkness of the night that would provide enough cover.

Cas opened the window slowly. The cool night-air drifted inside. It smelled faintly of the neighbor's roses and with it came the sound of insects and night birds. It was not the normal cacophony of sound though but more subdued as if even nature itself held its breath.

The front door to Chiyoh's house opened and she flew outside. The lower half of her body was gone and dark, leathery wings had sprouted from her back, She flapped them and hovered for a few seconds on the porch, before flying across the street.

Dean shook his head. “Look at her, so confident. She isn't even in a hurry. Didn't lock the door. Well, your day nap will be longer than usual.”

Cas was silent.

“It'll be longer cause she'll... she'll be dead, Cas.”

“I figured that, Dean. If it was a joke, the very act of explaining it defeats its purpose.”

Dean grumbled. “Maybe you should've laughed then. Whatever. Sam would've found it funny.”

They could hear a tiny rattle coming from downstairs and soon the tell-tale sound of a door slowly being opened came to them. It was showtime.

They jumped out of the window and landed with a soft thud on the grass.

Sam was already skulking around the trees, seeking the darkest shadows.

Dean and Cas sprinted across the street and sneaked inside.

“Alright, let's stick to the plan. Me and Cas will take the downstairs, Sam, you take the upstairs. “Time to find some legs.”

“You got some garlic and salt,” Sam wondered.

“Yep, we're good to go. Let's hurry. I don't think the makeshift pillow bodies will work for long.”

Sam arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He quickly ascended the stairs.

Dean was not sure if the salt would work on the Manananggal's own home but he quickly sprinkled salt on all the window sills and the front and back door, just in case. “Gotta tell you, she sure lives dangerously. Why would she go hunting just a few hours before sunrise?”

“Maybe it's complacency. Encounters with hunters being rare? I'll start in the back. There are only so many places were you can hide legs.”

Dean made a face. “Tell me about it.” He opened the restroom and pulled back the shower curtains but found it empty. Next, he rummaged through some closets in the hallway but found nothing. He could feel the seconds ticking away. Any moment now she'd be flying back in a flurry of rage.

“Kitchen is clean,” Cas shouted.

“Son of a bitch, where are you? Sam, anything?!” Dean cried.

Cas was checking the living room and Dean wanted to laugh. It was not like the legs were just chilling on the couch.

Sam came running down the stairs. “Nothing, I didn't find anything.”

“Well, search again!”

The door busted open, pieces of wood flying everywhere and there Chiyoh was. Her wings flapped furiously, but oddly enough it sounded like it came from far away. Blood dripped from her hanging entrails. She tried to cross the threshold and Dean held his breath.

When she shrieked in frustration, Dean exhaled. The salt line held for now but he couldn't count on his luck to last. Experience had taught him it could always get worse.

Chiyoh glared at him and beat her wings, disappearing from sight.

Dean realized she was in the back yard when she beat on the door, her claws scraping against glass.

The legs had to be in the house! Dean went back to the kitchen, his gaze sweeping over the floor and desk spaces, but nothing. Then he saw it. A thin, rectangular outline right on the wall behind the door to a storage room.

He shut the door to the storage room and opened the thin door. Bingo.

The bottom half of Chiyoh sat there, bloody and gory. “Found her!” Dean shouted. Fucking gross, this was worse than witches and the bloody rags of skin the shapeshifters left behind. Dean pulled up his bag, hesitating.

Sam was behind him. “Dean, what are you waiting for? Do it!”

Dean dropped a piece of garlic on the legs but Sam objected.

“You have to smoother the legs, rub it in! Hurry!”

Dean grimaced but grabbed a fistful of garlic and rubbed it all over the legs. He carefully avoided the bloody top parts. When he was done, he sprinkled it with salt for good measure.

Outside the house, an unholy sound escaped the manananggal's throat.

Dean and Sam ran out of the kitchen and into the living room just in time to see the first sunlight touch the world.

Chiyoh turned, her huge, leathery wings beating as she tried to escape but as the sun washed over her, they stopped beating. She screamed and hissed. “No!” It was a last protest, shouted in disbelief – garbled and wrong – nothing a human voice could produce.

She fell down with a thud, unmoving.

“It – I think it worked. She's dead.” Sam exhaled in relief.

“Let's just wait a few more minutes. I want her dead dead.”

Cas came to him. “I think Sam is right, she's dead, Dean. And we need to go. Neighbors are waking up and they'll have questions soon. Questions we can't answer.”

“Alright. Me and Cas gonna' head back to the house and grab our stuff. Sam, you wait in the car. Don't you dare sit in the driver seat.”

They were driving out of Okay seven minutes later, Dean's foot heavy on the gas pedal.

They talked about the hunt, Sam's sleuthing, what they had done during their hours separated. Dean didn't tell Sam anything about the more domestic things he and Cas had done while doing the whole fake marriage but Sam made small jokes here and there. Dean let him have it.

One hour into the drive home, Sam was knocked out. Dean had counted on it. Sure, they were used to little to no sleep but when they were safe and opportunity arose, Sam always took a chance to nap.

Silence reigned for a few minutes until Dean thought it was unbearable. Yet he remained silent.

The thought of knowing was worse. No, that was a lie. He wanted to know but he wanted it to be the right answer, the good kind of answer.

The answer he hoped for.

Dean gritted his teeth. Better live in uncertainty than know the truth and be forever disappointed and heartbroken.

Cas cleared his throat. “You never answered my question.”

Dean's mouth turned drier than the Sahara desert. “There's been a lot of questions during these couple of days, Cas. Yes, I like cheese. Nope, I don't take too long showers. And I guess, fine, bell peppers are OK on tacos.”

Cas' gaze hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes were serious – it was the look of an angel that had been the leader of a garrison, commanding, and present – but Dean also detected a hint of sadness there.

His heart plummeted down into his stomach.

“That wasn't the question I was referring to. I was talking about – “

“I know which question you're talking about Cas...” Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter. Just fucking say it. It's just three goddamn letters. Just say it. Y-E-S. Yankee, echo, sierra. Yes, yes. Yes!

It came out much more quiet from Dean's lips than the bombastic declaration it had been in his mind. “Yes.”

Cas stilled.

Dean could feel it. Like a shift in the air, an aura of something that pushed against him, a heaviness that wrapped around him. Maybe he was having a heart attack.

“D-dean?” Cas sounded uncertain and hopeful.

It wrecked Dean. Not the hopefulness, never that but that Cas felt uncertain and hesitant. And that he was the cause of it. He never wanted Cas to doubt his feelings for him again.

Dean cleared his throat again, his eyes flitting to Cas for a second before he decided that his best option was to have them steady on the road. “Look, Cas... shit's complicated, our lives are complicated. Monster hunts and apocalypses every other week. And if it ain't that, then it's freaking God going all SuperSaiyan on us. Billie is hiding Jack somewhere so he can achieve his Jedi-status and everything just keeps piling up on us.”

Dean licked his lips and dared to look at Cas.

He was looking at Dean intently, waiting for him to be finished.

“And you were gone, after Mary and Jack.. I was a fucking douche for saying those things but I said them. And you came back. You always come back. And now this case, and the whole fake marriage thing, I just – Look I don't wanna marry you, Cas.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “You're... confusing.”

Dean shook his head. “You still have that mixtape, Cas?”

“Of course. I... listen to it regularly. It means a lot to me.”

“I'm not good with words, always been a doer but even that doesn't seem to mean much when all that I try to do turns to dust. But this case, you and me 'playing house' as Sam called it... I saw a glimpse of what I could have. With you. And I'm tired, Cas. So fucking tired. So yeah.” He paused. “I love you. Have for a long time.”

He felt Cas' eyes on him like a fire, burning heat enveloping him. He was afraid to turn and look at Cas, afraid that he'd misread the whole situation, that everything had just been an act to catch Chiyoh. He was so fucking tired of being afraid but here he was nonetheless, fucking drowning in the emotion.

Dean grabbed the steering wheel tighter, bracing for rejection.

“Dean.”

A gentle touch on his arm brought him back from his dark musings. “Dean?”

Finally, Dean dared to look at Cas.

Cas was glowing. It had nothing to do with his grace or with him being an angel. The sun played no part in it, even though the rays that danced across his face as they continued their drove home painted a gorgeous picture.

No, Cas' eyes shone. The soft lines around the corner of his eyes deepened as a breathtaking smile overtook him. “I love you too, Dean.”

“You do...?” Dean had a hard time processing what had just happened, so he nodded sheepishly and looked back at the road. “That's... wow... You love me.” Dean blinked but nonetheless tears formed, threatening to spill over. “You love me.”

“Are you alright, Dean? Baby is all over the place.”

Dean blinked again; a tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. “Baby is exactly where I want her to be.” He looked at Cas again. He looked the same but something was different. He seemed at peace. What a cliche sentiment that was but it didn't make it any less true.

Holy shit. Cas loved him back. Was it possible to pass out and be conscious at the same time?

“Dean?”

Dean grabbed Cas' hand, his heart hammering in his chest the whole time. He imagined Cas' flinching, yanking his hand away, laughing and declaring it all to be some huge, awful, joke.

Normally, Dean was totally against driving Baby with only one hand. She was a beauty and deserved a two-hand grip on the steering wheel but these were hardly normal times.

“I'm good, Cas. I'm good.”

Cas' voice was deep, dark, and content. “Good. That's all I ever wanted for you. To be good. Happy.” He squeezed Dean's hand once.

Dean exhaled and couldn't stop his smile from breaking out. “I'm happy, Cas. No question about it.”

“When are we gonna tell Sam and Jack?”

Dean barely heard the question, still marveling at the sensation of Cas' heavy hand in his. “Um, soon. In the Bunker. You and me are gonna have some alone time first.” His cheeks turned red. Christ, he was giddy as a teenager again.

The landscape flew past them – occasional trees, neighborhoods, other cars. Even a Prius. It was all very mundane, just another drive home from a successful hunt. It was all the same, yet suddenly it struck Dean, the beauty of it all. Chuck was a fucking douche that needed to be stopped, monsters lurked and there was evil in the world.

But the world had two badass hunters, one kickass, angel and one juiced-up Nephilim kid. The world would be fine

Everything would be fine.

“Alone time?”

“Yeah, alone time. Just you and me, no prying eyes. You know how many times I've dreamt of kissing you? A kazillion times, Cas.”

Cas nodded, that content glow still present. “A kazillion is a significantly high number.”

“Yeah.”

“To the Bunker, then.”

Dean shook his head in amazement. “To the Bunker, Cas.” https://archiveofourown.org/works/24487438

[remythologise]

I hate the concept of shock-value deaths. Logically, I know they're non-exisitent characters, but dammit, would you just kill off people for no valid reason if you were builing this world???? It feels like an easy cop out to me, as opposed to building chracter development.

(I mean this applying only to deaths that happen because you just don't know what to do with the character. Like unexpected deaths, when done well, lead to really good development)

Thoughts?

As you said, there are genuine reasons that shock value deaths can work well in the context of a narrative - for example I think that Buffy does this extraordinarily well with Buffy’s mother. But to use that episode (which I have not watched for years) as an example, the death is shock value because it highlights how death can be sudden and meaningless, and takes great pains to show how that death affects every character on the show. Death for shock value can work well when it is given the respect it deserves and is embedded in the narrative as a force of emotional change and development for the characters. Like I do think that JK Rowling did right in killing off a lot of characters during the Battle of Hogwarts in order to show the cost of war but I disagree with her execution.

Where shock value deaths does not work for me is when they have no purpose or reason driving the narrative forward that could not have been serviced by something else. Supernatural (I assume that’s why we’re talking); has a problem with this because characters come back to life all the time, and the deaths on the show are rarely given the right emotional weight, and very rarely lead to change and development of the characters. There are exceptions to that, like John, Dean and Sam’s various deaths, Cas’ death in 12.23 and Jack’s death in Byzantium. I think SPN has a really problematic aversion to portraying deep emotion tbh. Misha saying ‘they could stand to be more affectionate with one another’ in the retrospective or whatever is this too. I get that Dean is repressed but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel, and we very rarely get scenes with Sam mourning at all. 13.01 was VERY GOOD because we got to see Dean feeling ‘behind the scenes’ of what Sam saw (or what the audience usually sees.) But yeah it feels like for example with Kevin and Charlie and later characters like Eileen and Benny the characters are killed off for no real reason because they needed man angst and/or didn’t know what to do with the characters. If they’re offscreen, they’re also not really given proper respect. It doesn’t help when certain characters are brought back (Eileen, Sam and Dean) but others aren’t and therefore seem less important to Sam & Dean. Cas’s final ‘death’ was just the peak example of ludicrousness where the questions a) ‘why can’t they bring him back?’ and b) ‘why aren’t they more upset about this?’ were even more blatant than ever before. His loss didn’t feel real at all which is even more jarring when the audience felt it so keenly.

[saltandburnsis]

pilot, pt 2

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, townspeople

Age: 20

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,820

Summary: With Sam finally on board, the three Winchesters begin their search for their father and the hunt in Jericho.

A/N: All dialogue taken from the show will be in italics.

~ ~ ~ ~

You left the gas station with Dean, your drink and bag of chips in hand. Sam was still in the passenger seat, looking through another one of the boxes in the car. You slid in the back and kicked your boots off, leaning back against the door and putting your feet up on the seat. One of Dean’s many, many rules of the car: no shoes on the seats. You grabbed the book you’d been reading during the drive and flipped through until you found the page you’d been on while Dean took the gas pump out of the car.

“So, how’d you pay for that stuff? You guys still running credit card scams?” Sam asked after Dean offered him some of his food. You rolled your eyes. Who was he to judge what had been done your entire life? Sure it was illegal, but—

“Hunting ain’t exactly a pro-ball career,” Dean replied, vocalizing your thoughts.

“Besides, all we do is apply. Not our fault they send us cards,” you added. Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?” Sam continued his line of questioning while Dean walked around and got back in the car.

“Uh…Bert Aframian and his kids Hector and Bertha. Scored three cards out of the deal,” Dean smirked. Sam shook his head again.

“Sounds about right.” He dropped the tapes he was holding into the box. “I swear, man. You gotta update your cassette tape collection.”

“Why?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow.

“Well, for one, their cassette-tapes. And two—“ Sam began going through the tapes again while you and Dean looked on. “Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica? It’s the greatest hits of mullet rock.” Dean grabbed the third tape from Sam’s hand and took it out of the case.

“House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.” With that, Dean slid the tape into the car’s radio and turned the car on.

“You know, Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old. It’s Sam, okay?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you. The music’s too loud.” Dean revved the engine before pulling out of the parking lot, speeding down the road towards Jericho.

————————

Apart from the music playing the speakers and Sam’s phone calls, the three of you rode in silence. You’d finished your book a few miles back and were trying to catch up on some last-minute sleep before you entered the town and began your work.

“Alright, so, there’s no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that’s something, I guess.” Sam informed you and Dean after hanging up the phone. Dean slowed as he approached the bridge riddled with police cars.

“Check it out,” he said, forcing you to open your eyes and sit up to see out the windshield. You went into your bag, grabbing your fake badge while Dean pulled the car over and parked it. He went into the glove box and got his own then turned back to you, holding his hand out.

“What?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Sam’s coming with on this one. Let him use yours.” Dean waved his fingers in a “hand it over” motion. Was he serious? Less than a day in, and he was already letting Sam take over your spot. The way things were done for four years now were being thrown out the window.

“No way, dude. Besides, how’s he supposed to get past ‘em when it’s got my picture on it?” Sam looked between the two of you, unsure if speaking up would do him any good with either of you.

“You know they never look that close at those things. Come on.” You narrowed your eyes but relinquished the badge to Dean.

“We’ll let you know what we find out,” Dean assured, handing Sam the badge. “Let’s go.”

“You better,” you warned, sitting back in your seat and crossing your arms as Sam and Dean got out of the car and made their way over to the officers. Of course, you knew that having Sam along meant you’d be sitting out a few interrogations. Hell, you’d be fine with sitting back and letting the two of them go ahead if you were given the option. But, that was the problem. There was no option this time around, no asking your opinion. You were used to Dean calling the shots, but he at least talked to you beforehand. And he’d never kept anything like this from you. You let out a long sigh and grabbed the case papers and notes. Might as well give them another read while you were stuck waiting.

——————

“I’ll bet you that’s her.” Dean pointed ahead at the girl with a stack of flyers in her bag while walking down the street, you and Sam in tow. You put your hand out to stop them and moved in front of them. They’d told you all about the cop’s daughter dating the latest vic on your way into town, and you’d be damned if they conned you out of another questioning.

“This I can do.” You spun on your heel and walked over to Amy. “Hey, Amy, right?” The girl looked at you suspiciously but nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Troy told me about you. I’m his cousin. I’m Y/N.” Your response didn’t seem to lower her suspicion much.

“He never mentioned you to me,” she replied, continuing to walk forward. You chuckled, matching her pace.

“Well, that’s Troy, I guess. I’m not really around much. I live up in Modesto. But, uh, we’re looking for him, too.” You gestured back at Sam and Dean. “The guys back there are my brothers, Dean and Sam, and we’re asking around.” You were interrupted by another girl running up to Amy.

“Hey, you alright?” She asked Amy, looking you up and down once before turning back to her friend.

“Yeah,” Amy nodded, looking down. You cleared your throat and waved your brothers over.

“You mind if we ask you a couple questions?”

——————

You were, uncomfortably, squeezed in the booth between Sam and the wall, Dean on Sam’s other side. Amy and Rachel were sat across from you, Amy relaying everything she knew from the last time she’d heard from Troy.

“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and he never did.”

“He didn’t say anything strange or out of the ordinary?” Sam asked. Amy shook her head.

“No, nothing I can remember.” Dean leaned forward and looked between the two of them, and you took the opportunity to nudge Sam with your elbow, finally getting a little more space on the cramped seat.

“Alright, here’s the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared—something’s not right. So, if you’ve heard anything…” He trailed off. The girls shifted in their seats, turning to look at each other.

“What is it?” you asked. Rachel spoke up.

“Well, it’s just…I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.”

“What do they talk about?” You, Sam, and Dean asked in unison. Rachel took a minute to answer, seemingly unsure of how to explain herself. She played with her hands nervously, fidgeting through the tale.

“It’s kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. Well, supposedly, she’s still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up…well, they disappear forever.” Dean looked to you and Sam knowingly, earning a nod back from both of you.

———————

Dean began searching on the library’s computer, you seated on his left and Sam looking on from behind. He typed “Female Murder Hitchhiking” before searching, yielding zero results. He removed “Hitchhiking” and typed “Centennial Highway” before searching again. And again, he was met with zero results.

“Let me try,” you said, reaching for the mouse. Dean slapped your hand away.

“I got it.” He started typing again, but you pushed his chair away from the computer and moved yours in front of it. “Dude.” Dean hit your arm then moved his chair next to yours. “You’re such a control freak.”

“So, angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?” You started, ignoring his complaint. Sam leaned forward with a “yeah,” signaling for you to continue.

“Well, maybe it’s not murder.” You deleted the “murder” from Dean’s search and replaced it with “suicide.” The page took a minute to load, but you were met with a single result.

“Alright,” you said, clicking on the article. “This was 1981.”

“Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river,” Sam read over your shoulder.

“Does it say why she did it?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren’t breathing. Both die,” you summarized as you scrolled through the article.

“‘‘Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn’t bear it,’ said husband, Joseph Welch,’” Sam read as you went the next page. Dean moved closer, looking at the large picture taking up the screen.

“That bridge look familiar to you?”

———————

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” Dean commented once you’d reached the spot on the bridge. He looked over the railing at the water below.

“So, you think Dad would have been here?” Sam asked, looking first at the rushing. water then at Dean.

“He’s chasing the same story, and we’re chasing him,” you replied, moving away from the railing and walking further down the bridge. Dean followed suit, matching your pace easily.

“Okay, so now what?” He asked again, trailing behind the two of you.

“Now we keep digging ’til we find him. It might take a while.” Exasperation was clear in Dean’s voice. Sam was getting impatient, all too eager to leave you and Dean in the dust once again in order to go back to his life. He wasn’t afraid to let it be known, either.

“Dean, I told you I’ve got to get back by—“

“Monday,” Dean interrupted him, turning around to face him. “Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot… You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? You think you’re just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?”

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam was annoyed. You crossed your arms and stepped closer to him.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you’ve done?”

“No, and she’s not ever going to know,” Sam answered, mimicking your actions and taking a step closer.

“Well, that’s healthy,” you shot back. Dean stepped between you two but kept his eyes locked with Sam’s.

“You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you’re going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean turned away and started walking down the bridge again, you right behind him. Sam paused for a moment then followed.

“And who is that?”

“One of us.” Dean continued walking, not turning back to face the younger Winchester. Sam sped up and stood in front of the two of you, blocking your path.

“No, I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

“No, you’re absolutely right, Sam. You’re not like us. Walking away is one thing. but we never would have turned our backs on the family as quickly and as easily as you did,” you were seething. “Regardless, you have a responsibility. We all do.”

“To Dad and his crusade? If it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what my Mom looked like.”

“At least you had pictures! You get to know what she looked like and know what she was like. You think I don’t know how shitty it is to lose your Mom and not remember a thing about her? The only thing I know about my mom is how she died.  Finding the thing that took her away…you really can’t see how important that is? You’re really just going to throw away all the work that’s been done because we haven’t found that thing?” Tears began to fill your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. You weren’t about to cry in front of him.

“What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, she’s gone, and she’s not coming back.” At Sam’s words, Dean grabbed the collar of his jacket and shoved him up against the side of the bridge. He was silent for a minute—eyes boring into Sam’s—before he spoke.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Dean’s voice was quiet but intense. You’d only heard him use that tone a handful of times. He lowered his hands, but he and Sam continued to glare at each other. You looked down the bridge, body tensing when you saw the figure.

“Dean, Sam.” The two followed your gaze down the bridge and watched as Constance turned to look at you before jumping. You all ran to the spot and looked down.

“Where’d she go?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know,” you responded, continuing to look around until you heard the Impala’s engine roar to life. You all turned to look at the car, her headlights illuminating the dark bridge.

“What the—“ Dean was cut off.

“Who’s driving your car?” Sam questioned. None of your eyes left the Impala. Dean grabbed the keys from his pocket and held them up. A second later, the tires squealed as the car launched forward, heading towards you. You ran down the bridge on Sam and Dean’s tails. As the car got closer, the three of you turned toward the side of the bridge and jumped, sending yourself flying over the side and into the water below.

Sam pulled himself up to a sitting position on the bridge and looked down at the water.

“Dean!” He called out, looking around. Dean crawled out of the water, laying on his back. “Dean, are you alright?”

“I’m super,” Dean called back, weakly raising his arm to give a thumbs-up. Sam let out a sigh of relief but was soon hit with another wave of panic.

“Dean. where’s Y/N?” Sam asked. He didn’t see her in the water or on the shore.

“She’s up there with you.” Dean’s eyes were shut. He hadn’t seen you hit the water as he had, so surely you were safe, right?

“No, she isn’t.” At that, Dean shot up and looked around, calling your name. He was about to jump back into the water to find you when you finally crawled onto the shore and laid down, groaning. You’d hit the water hard, and every inch of you was muddy and sore. You finally opened your eyes to see Sam looking down from above.

“Aw, man. What the hell?” Why’d he get to walk out of this mud-free? Sam started laughing and climbed the rest of the way up onto the bridge while Dean helped you to your feet.

———————-

“Car alright?” Sam asked as Dean looked around under the hood. You finished wiping your face with a spare towel from the trunk and walked to the front of the car. Dean shut the hood and sat down.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems alright now. That Constance chick—what a bitch!” He yelled. You offered him a second towel and leaned on the car beside him.

“Well, she doesn’t want us digging around, that’s for sure,” you said, wringing the towel in your hands. Sam sat on the other side of Dean.

“So, where’s the trail go from here, geniuses?” Dean threw his hands up in the air in response to Sam’s question.

���Ditto,” you sighed. The three of you sat in the silence of the night before Sam turned to the two of you.

“You guys smell like a toilet.” You narrowed your eyes and threw the soiled towel at him, hitting him in the side of the face. Dean chuckled and finally started using his towel to clean his face off.

——————-

Dean put the card on the book of the motel clerk standing before him. “One room, please.”

The clerk looked back and forth between Dean and the card a few times before speaking up.

“You guys having a reunion or something?” You furrowed your brow and looked at the clerk.

“What do you mean?

“Another guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month.” You looked at Sam and Dean then got the room number from the clerk. Dean hastily led the three of you down the row of rooms until he found the right one. Dean and you stood watch for Sam as he got to work picking the lock. He was in the room in just under a minute. He stepped inside then turned, reaching out and pulling you and Dean inside behind him.

SPN rewrite taglist: @mrsfortune1306 @marvelous-glims

forever taglist: @griff1ndor @gothsatanicrapunzel @choosemyname @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @not-astounding @sassy-specter @vicmc624 @idksupernatural

[gwasgy]

Okay. So. Here’s an elaborate multiple days of brainstorming ideas as they come PracticalMagicnatural AU nonsense. Thank you.

- Bobby and Rufus would be the Aunts and they'd be bffs not siblings and would have Vibes but it would be... hm. This is not a Bufus story is what I'm saying.

- the Curse would be on the men and for the women they love of course (classic fridging :/)

- this works for Bobby, (Rufus,) John, and Sam. (Supernatural is bad)

- so this is where it's kind of. Hm. Bc Sally and Gillian are not one to one for either boy. Where Sally and Gillian BOTH have identities separating family and magic (family business), these ideas are inseparable for the brothers.

- alsooo dean and sam to BE dean and sam they would've had to be "raised" by john until they were at least near-grown, even if they had a home base at Bobby's house.

- John still kills himself with grief MAYBE but it's like /later/ and more through self destruction and revenge and alcoholism, leaving the boys to live their later teenage/early twenties in the Bufus household

- Azazel is the one killing all the Wives in this curse. And if they use The Resurrection Spell to bring them back, he is possessing them

- hmmmmmmmmm they need to still be hunters I think buuut what if. They also did witchcraft.

- Dean would cast the love summoning spell, making it so that he uses angel descriptors unwittingly or on purpose because he doesnt think angels are real and therefore cannot exist for him to fall in love with and kill (bc the curse)

- it would be fun and very cringe fail embarrassing for Dean if sometimes he thought about His Angel and accidentally occasionally prayed to Cas

- Anna could show up and be Dean's red herring

- Dean could be in an About to Die situation and think, as a joke or whatever, "fuck. I never even got to meet that hot angel chick that's in love with me," and Cas shows up (with wings bc hot), saves him, *handprints*, then leaves

- OR. There's a blinding light and screeching noise and Dean blacks out and wakes up with a handprint safe and sound

- Cas and The Guy From Practical Magic That's A Cop both bend the rules of their superiors for their person easily and pliantly. except for the initial pushback. Hm.

----

- it's weird bc in practical magic there's this whole vibe of I'm Done With Magic And You're Dragging Me Back Into This And Ruining My Life but sammy had gone away and rejected The Life THEN found the woman he loves and THEN tried to resurrect her mayyybeeeee wait wait wait it wouldn’t be Jess bc she isn’t evilll...

- DEAN would be the one with a bad boyfriend that they accidentally kill and have to resurrect... hmmmmm

- maybe it's like a Boy Best Friend of dean's like maybe he is on a hunt with Benny and he accidentally chops his damn head off and tries to resurrect him to cover it up

- and that fucks up something in the afterlife and Cas is sent to Fix The Problem of whatever the fuck happened to this guy's soul when they did this

----

- it's wonderful to think of the PTA mom shenanigans Dean and Sam could get into but I don't think that Dean would have any sort of kid in this besides maybe jack?

- I mean, it could be that Ben is still around and he was with Lisa but never Loved Her on principal, and left in time so the curse didn't fuck her up, but they're still friends and he will still pick Ben up from school sometimes

- I don't see how the phone tree could work into it but I don't think that it's necessary bc sam and dean and cas's version of this story does not and can not revolve around them being outsiders in their own community but overcoming it and accepting who you are and integrating into the community through girl power and witch magic

- BUT. the potential of sammy being possessed is yeah. It’s extremely. Yeah.

- They could have a nice bonding moment of I'm never gonna leave you you can do this like from Swan Song. Like Sally joining Gilly in the broom circle to help her while she’s being exorcised

- their brotherly bond is NOTHING like Sally and Gillian's, though. Like YES. they would no doubt help bury the body, but they aren't giggling about their love life under the covers together. They simply are not that type of girl

- also I guess there wouldn't be the tension of You're Ruining My Life That I've Constructed Just By Being Here between them.

- WELL.

- Dean WOULD say something shitty about cleaning up Sam's messes though. He is just that type of guy

----

- Dean can definitely be the one chopping and hacking at the rose bush and cas would DEFINITELY get distracted and heal him in the middle of his conversation with him

- Dean oh dean he and his close Boy Best Friends could totally fuck with the curse. Like-

- Dean: Oh my good friend Benny he’s the first person ive really allowed myself to get attatched to in a while but that’s fine! he can't die because i don't love or like him like that because he's a guy! Haha, I'm not gay! We are just guys being dudes just two bros hanging out :)

Benny: *dies anyway*

Dean: FUCK

- Sammy would totally make that new age witchy herbal shop that Sally had! that would be so fun. Also ft. periphery what the fuck is up with those people type locals

- maybe Rowena shows up still and Crowley is also there hmmmmm and Rowena teaches Sam magic stuff and it gets him to make the supernatural a part of his life again without having to do any hunting hmmmmmmm or it's just another tool in his arsenal and he just always deserves to have magic powers

- the supernatural ladies could work in the shop :) like Meg and Rowena and Ruby anndddd Alya :) Ava? The psychic hunger games MVP girl

- or all the kids work at that shop!! I miss those dang kids. Max, the twins, death lesbian, Jake, electric guy, and all them :)

- Rowena is like a witchy shop owner up in town that buys Sam's wares to sell in the city #CareerWoman #GirlBoss

- Jody and Donna can also hang out I guess. Since we're at Bobby's place

----

- Dean casts the love summoning spell after either Regular Heartbreak with Cassie, his first love, when he was 15 or whatever, OR after the behated Boy Best Friend death. Hmmmmmm

- it makes more sense for the story for dean to have someone die on him and apply to the curse. But I don't wanna kill Benny ):

- well I don't think he was ever In Love with Crowley or Benny like he was with Cassie (or even Lisa)

- when he was 15 or 14 and John was still around but had left him at the Bufus household he got hold of that love summoning spell and made sure it was impossible so he would never experience heartache again. He does so while crying teenagishly and 11 year old sam is like. Why the fuck are you summoning this weird monster girl to fall in love with you

- and Dean is like no no this kind of monster doesn't exist. Anyway they'd have glowing blue eyes and they're as big as a building and and they hear me whenever I call no matter far away

- Sam: that...... sounds like an angel, dean.

Dean, having already done the spell: WHAT. NO. NO IT'S NOT IT IS SO NOT LIKE AN ANGEL. ANGELS AREN'T REAL

- Cas in Heaven, a bunch of flower petals swirling around him: what the fuck is that. That's weird

- Cas like 13 years later when he sees a cajun zombie vampire demon: okay I'm already getting weird prayers from some guy down there I'm just gonna check that out

- by the time Cas gets down there they've killed it again and buried it and hmm

- It's weird because it's the opposite of Practical Magic here bc Cas is the one that needs to be believed about something supernatural BY dean

----

- what if they accidentally kill JOHN instead of a hot bf. Dean kills John bc John tries to kill Sam, and they panickedly try to resurrect him immediately

- yeah yeah yeah yeah and John, possessed by Azazel, gets killed again while still being possessed and is buried underground. There can still be a rose bush and frogs and whatnot

- I doon't know why Bobby and Rufus would just leave the brothers in their house if John was alive until then?

- Alright John's been missing for like 5 years and the boys have just been living there and assumed he's dead. Then he comes for Sammy bc Sam is Turning Evil or whatever and John's a huge loser about it

- so Bufus is like "you guys are acting insane and you aren't telling us what's wrong so we’re just going to leave and you're going to sort it out yourself." Like the aunts

- then, when cas shows up to track down the weird resurrected demon-possessed serial killer abomination Dean and Cas are EMBARRASSING like completely totally absolutely embarrassing cringe fail love where they can't talk normal with eachother and Cas keeps getting too close and staring but Dean forgets to tell him to back off or anything and he just stammers uselessly through thin dumb lies

- there aren't any children there to comically thwart Sam's plans to get rid of Castiel as he is investigating Dean and Sam but it could end similarly

- where Cas finds Sam making a small angel banishing symbol and is like "okay. You guys aren't to be trusted and you're doing something evil (and i don't understand what’s happening to me when i’m around Dean). I'm just straight up going to leave then" and boom he's gone

- the fight Sally and Gillian have right before Gillian gets possessed can play out pretty damn similarly with Sam and Dean, but it's a LOT different too

- like it's their DAD not some random serial killer bf. You can't choose your dingdang dad! So the part of "I cant keep cleaning up your messes" WHOSE MESSES who even says that to who whose mess could this even be

----

- Sam has a girlfriend that dies from the curse and it’s bc of being caught in the crossfire when Hunter Bullshit Happens. The Women of the Winchesters’ way. So he moves back specifically to get back into hunting and witchcraft to BREAK the curse hmmmmm.

- Much like Sally with Michael’s death. “I don't care what he comes back as. As long he comes back. Please do this for me. Please? Please? Please? Please?” :(

- I think Dean is an Of Course I’m Not Going To Fall In Love kinda character, like younger Sally before Michael. very pessimistic very self depreciating. He only confides his deepest darkest desires (to be loved simply and openly without fear of the Curse taking anyone. To be held and to take care of someone who will appreciate it) in his fakey fake pretend prayers to his imaginary angel (this turns out to be very cringe fail embarrassing when Cas shows up)

- Cas holds onto these prayers like Hallet (the cop from movie) does with Sally’s letter to Gillian, not knowing or understanding why he’s so fixated on them and why he can’t stop reading them/playing them back/listening in

- John… maybe he was pulling a Gordon and was killing all the psychic kids and was eventually going to have to kill Sam, and Cas was for some reason Put On The Case as an angel or was Allowed to Interfere or whatever bc it was fudging up God’s Plan

- and that’s how Cas justified being so fixated and taking notes on Dean’s prayers, like Hallet did with the letter. It was a good lead. It was about their father, and Sam seemed to be having psychic tendencies or whatever that could turn dangerous

----

- Okay okayokayokay so Sally and Gillian’s story is them escaping the ostracization they feel from the people in their physical regional community. The Owen’s family has always been outsiders, even before the curse came into being. They are persecuted for being witches (and sleeping around and being sexy).

- the sisters try to escape this either by just LEAVING: going to a place they can be themself without shame, or assimilating and abandoning a part of themself so that they can stay.

- the Winchester brothers are, I guess, ostracized by the hunting community because they are kept away from it and moved around a lot in the show. Okay okay okay okay okaywaitwaitwait

- Okay so the Winchesters feel alienated from both civilians and the hunting community, and they both eventually choose to do similar things to Sally and Gilly..! Sam LEAVES and assimilates, while Dean stays and just accepts his role his father gave him.

- Gilly and Sam LEAVE, while Dean and Sally STAY. Gillian and Dean embrace what makes them Different, while Sally and Sam reject it in favor of Being Normal

- The witchcraft/hunting thing especially doesn’t mesh well here though because Hunting is KILLING it’s literally murdering sentient beings. It’s war propaganda it’s desensitizing you to Even Though The Enemy Is Capable Of Good Individually They Are, As A Group, Evil And Should Be Slaughtered.

- Witchcraft in Practical Magic is just… a way of life that’s considered outside the accepted norms of society. It’s being openly queer, it’s being from a different country of origin, it’s being non-christian religious in a small town. Accepting witchcraft doesn’t have any moral good or badness, it’s just with or without the consequences of being “out” in your area. While accepting Hunting as a lifestyle is to accept putting yourself in bodily danger doing morally ambiguous/BAD things to protect people you can’t relate to or find a community in. Hmmmmmmmmmm

----

- Sam and Sally both have natural talents/instincts but don't want to use it in favor of being "normal"

-

[blccdstaincds]

Finding Dallas | Part One

summary: dallas camden just lost her dad in a mysterious accident that wasn’t an accident at all. all he left her was an beat up on pickup truck and a journal with a note that said “find john winchester, he owes me one”. crazy as that sounds, she has nowhere to go and nothing left to lose, so she does just that, except things are far more complicated than she thought.

authors notes: this is an au fanfiction series where john killed the yellow eyed demon when the boys were kids, and the canon events of the show never happened. john retired, sam went to college, and dean became a hunter despite his father’s wishes. credit for the gif above goes to hughxjackman ( https://hughxjackman.tumblr.com/post/175290838189/i-sincerely-apologize-for-the-quality-of-these )

content warning: chapter contains mentions of parental death, violence, and swearing. future chapters may contain sexual content. main character (dallas) is in her early twenties and john is in his forties, if you are uncomfortable with that large of an age gap please don’t read.

“Son of a bitch.” Blood began seeping from John’s finger as he pulled it away from the engine he’d been working on. He grabbed the rag hanging from his belt and applied pressure to the wound. He didn’t do much else to stop the bleeding before going back to work under the hood of the old Cadillac he was working on.

“Uh, excuse me.” He looked up at the sound of a soft voice. There was a girl standing there, wearing a worn flannel and jean cut off shorts, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. He furrowed his brow just a bit, “I’m looking for John Winchester.”

“You found him, something I can help you with kid?” He asked as he closed the hood to the car and took a moment to look at her.

“Uh, I’m Dallas...you don’t know me, but I think you knew my dad...” She took the old journal out of her bag, “He said to go looking for you if something ever happened to him, that you’d know what to do.” She handed him the old book with it’s tattered pages. He opened it, and realization hit him. An old picture with torn edges was tucked inside the cover. Staring back at him was his younger self and an old friend, Charlie Camden.

“You’re Charlie’s kid?” His brows knitted together a moment and he shook his head. “I don’t know what your old man told you but I don’t think I can help you.”

“He was murdered. And the cops aren’t doing anything about it.” She said quickly, eyes searching his face, “He talked about you all the time, old war stories. He said you could help.”

“I don’t think you understand, I haven’t seen Charlie since you were a baby, I don’t know how I can help.” He suspected she didn’t know about her father’s business as a hunter if she was talking about cops. “I think you should go home kid, forget any of this ever happened and just go on with your life.” He knew was damage a revenge mission could have on someone.

“No, I don’t think you understand. Whatever killed my dad, it wasn’t human.” She grabbed another thing out of her bag, this time it was a folder. “It was a demon, and all I need you to do is teach me how to kill it.”

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

I half expected him to look at me like I was crazy but he didn’t. John’s eyes just darted between me and the files in my hand. He was shaking his head again, almost like he couldn’t believe I was there. 

“I’m sorry Dallas but I can’t do that.” His voice was stern enough for me to believe it but soft enough for me to know he was sorry. “I left that all behind a long time ago.” 

“I know. So did my dad.” I said slowly as tears threatened to form. “Look, I know what kinda stuff you guys did-” 

“No you don’t.” He said, and this time there was no softness in his voice. He took a few steps towards me and snatched the files out of my hand. “You have no idea what you’re asking me to do.” He said in a low tone. His eyes searched my face and his gaze felt heavy, like i’d cave beneath it at any second. As if he could sense that, he turned his gaze away from me and opened the folder. 

“Your father didn’t want you to be a hunter, and he definitely wouldn’t want you to go after whatever this thing is.” He said. I could tell he was looking at the crime scene pictures “Jesus christ...” He shook his head, closing the files again. “I’m sorry about Hank, I really am but I can’t do this.” He said, “I can’t.” 

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something I’d regret. I came all this way to find a real hunter to help me figure out how to avenge my dad, and all I’d found was a washed up old man. “I made a mistake coming here, I’m sorry I bothered you.” I reached for the folder and he pulled it back. 

“I might have someone who can help you.” He said after a moment. “Come on inside I’ll get you a beer.” He walked past me and towards the house. I followed close behind him. It was a small house, reminded me a lot of the one I’d grown up in. A dingy wood table was next to the window and he motioned for me to sit down. 

I watched him as he moved about the kitchen. He seemed to have a bit of a limp, probably for the same reason my dad had one. Hunting accident. “You even old enough to have one of these?” He asked, grabbing two beer bottles and setting one on the table in front of me before sitting down across from me. 

“Yeah, I am.” I rolled my eyes and took the bottle. After popping the top off of it I took a swig. “This uh, person who can help me? Who are they?” 

“Your old man ever talk about my boy Dean?” He asked, leaning back in his seat while taking a drink of his beer. I nodded. My dad talked about both of John’s boys.. “I can give him a call, see if he knows anything about this.” He put the file on the table between us. “Cause that-” He pointed at the folder and I can assume he was talking about the photos, “-that’s not a normal demon.” 

“Okay.” I said slowly. I took another drink of my beer before setting it down on the table. “He talked about you a lot.” I said after a long pause. “I remember this one story-he told it all the time-, about how the two of you took down an entire vampire nest with nothing but a single machete each.” My dad would get so into telling those stories, getting to relive his glory days. I think he missed being a hunter. He ended up retiring after mom died. 

“You believed that old bastard?” He chuckled and shook his head. “You know when a man goes fishing and says he almost caught a big one? That was your dad when it came to hunts.” He laughed, “Man could tell a good story.” He added before taking another swig off his beer. 

“Yeah, he really could.” I missed him. More than I thought possible. For the longest time it had  been just me and him. “I gotta find whatever did this to him.” I said, my voice cracking as tears began to form. “If I don’t it’ll just eat away at me until I’m nothing and I can’t let that happen.” 

“Yeah? What about when you can’t find it.” His voice was harsh as he looked at me, hazel eyes focusing on my face. “Then it’ll consume you. Your entire life will be all about killing this thing. And if you do-that is a big if-you’ll be too goddamned empty by the end to have anything else.” 

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.” I said after a moment. I knew a little bit about his wife, Dad had talked about it some, but not very many details. Dad didn’t even seem to have many, which led me to believe John didn’t like to talk about it much. “You lose somebody?” I asked.

“That’s different.” He said, anger seeping from his voice. “I owe it to your father to keep you out of all that shit.” He leaned forward, elbows hitting the table with a thud. “I know for a fact that he didn’t want that life for you and there’s no way I’m gonna be the one to help you shit on his memory by hunting down this thing.” 

I was crying now, full blown crying. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I looked at him, wondering exactly what I should do. Letting it go didn’t feel like an option. “I can’t just let it keep killing people.” I said, “I can’t let it get away with what it did.” 

“I’ll call Dean, I’m sure he won’t mind dealing with it for you.” He said after a long pause. His features softened again and he looked at me, “I know that feeling, like the worlds ending and you have nothing left, but you do.” 

“What about the feeling of being terrified because there’s something terrible around every corner. They look like me and you and there’s nothing you can do to protect yourself from them.” I hadn’t been scared before. Dad always seemed invincible and as long as he was around, nothing could hurt me. I was wrong. “Because if you won’t help me find and kill this thing, would you at least help me figure out how to not be so damned scared? Teach me what I need to know to protect myself from whatever’s out there?”

He looked at me for a long moment before nodding. “I might be able to do that.”

__________________________________________________________

I woke up the next day with a hangover. I didn’t drink much back then. I had always tried to be a “good girl” cause that was easier on my dad. It didn’t prepare me for the long nights of trying to drown out the pain. I could hear the sounds of someone shuffling around in the kitchen and I groaned. I dressed quickly, pulling on my worn boots, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans before going into the kitchen. It was a small, single story house with three little bedrooms. John had let me stay in what I guess was Sam’s old room.

I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching John as he cooked. He’d managed to age more gracefully than my dad had. Of course, dad had been a whole ten years older than John, even though live hadn’t been kind to either of them.

“You’re not one of those vegans are you?” John asked after he caught me watching him. I shook my head before moving to sit at the table. I looked around a bit. There wasn’t much to the Winchester home. While it was clean, it was still dingy and dark. Too much dust in the corners and no decorations on the walls.

“Good, because I don’t have any of that tofu shit.” He chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile. He finished up at the stove and put two plates of food down on the table. “I’m a shit cook so not sure if this is even edible.’ He said as he sat down.

“It looks great, thank you.” I began eating slowly. I could feel his eyes on me and I looked up, brows knitting together,

“Sorry, I’m just trying to figure out how Hank thought it was a good idea to send you to me.” He said. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his seat. “Because I don’t know, if you were my kid this would be the last place I’d send you.”

I shrugged, “He trusted you.” I said around a mouth full of food. I sipped off the glass of orange juice he’d set out for me.“You were his friend and he knew you’d steer me in the right direction.”

“Aren’t you in college or something? Have a boyfriend, friends? A life?” He asked. It was obvious he was having a difficult time and was trying to figure out a way to get out of helping me. “You should be doing normal things that kids your age are doing. Not learning how to kill demons.”

“No college. Dad couldn’t afford it and I wasn’t smart enough for scholarships.” I leaned back in my seat, “I had a boyfriend but we broke up, my friends are all in college so I don’t see them much anymore.” Chewing the inside of my cheek I look down at the plate of food in front of me before looking back at him, “I worked at a shitty bar where the patrons hassled and groped me at night and a diner during the day. Other than that I stayed home and took care of my dad. I wouldn’t know where to even start looking for normal.”

He let out a deep sigh and began eating the food in front of him. “Then I guess we start teaching you how to hunt.” He said, “But only as a form of self-defense. I’m not showing you how to go out and find trouble.”

“Okay, self-defense only. Got it.” I gave him a smile, “Thank you.” I said after a long pause. He glanced up at me, shaking his head.

“Don’t thank me yet, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

__________________________________________________________

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the next chapter!

[thecleverdame]

Part Two 

Read part one here

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Omega!Werewolf!Reader

Summary: You and Sam are a bonded pair with four children. You’re both interrogated by the police who are convinced that Sam and Dean are running a criminal enterprise.

Warnings: Language, violence, murder, dom/sub overtones. mentions of: knotting, breeding, claiming, giving birth

This falls into the same AU as The Brown Bottle, Moonlight and The Derby.

-

Interrogation: Sam

Sam sits on a tiny chair in a small room, wrists in handcuffs resting on the table in front of him. He’s been waiting for the better part of three hours without so much as a hello from anyone. He’s got a pretty good idea of what’s happening, at least the basics. He can’t say he wasn’t expecting to be brought in for questioning, he was, however, unprepared for the SWAT team knocking down the door to the mobile office at their construction site.

He takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. While he’s not new to being on this side of the law, he’s never been left to sweat in the box for this long.

He gets it, they’re proving a point.

–

Detective Joe Burgess stands on the opposite side of a panel of oone-wayglass watching. His eyes narrow as he sips reheated, lukewarm coffee from a styrofoam cup. This moment’s been a long time coming, there’s a lot riding on this. If they can’t make charges stick this time there’s little hope of the investigation dragging onward.

The brass says there’s been way too much time and money spent on this investigation. A thousand lines of inquiry that lead to nowhere. If they can’t break one of them today, there’s a good chance they’ll all walk for good. Everything the department has is circumstantial, and the district attorney won’t move forward without hard proof.

Joe’s a veteran, twenty years with his shield, before that a beat cop in some of the worst neighborhoods in Lincoln. He seen enough bad guys to know that there’s something off about the Winchesters. He has his own suspicions, but he’s got to leave them at the door because this is about what they can prove, which, at the moment, isn’t much.

He believes in justice, but he’s not naive enough to have faith in the system. It’s finally time to bring out the big guns, so to speak, let the Winchester’s know they’re really in it deep, and people are paying attention.

You can only live outside the law for so long.

Joe’s partner, Keith Jablonski, opens the door to the viewing area between the two interrogation rooms, carefully shutting it behind him. Keith’s overweight, red faced and not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but they’ve been a team for the better part of two decades so it’s about family at this point.

“How they doin’?” Keith asks eyeing Sam, then his brother sitting in the adjacent room.

“They’re both just sitting there.” Joe cocks his head as Sam shifts in his chair, palming himself through his jean and adjusting his balls. He’s been doing this long enough to know that most people panic. Guilty or not, the anticipation of the interview drives most people mad, pacing the room, crying or any number of nervous ticks…but these guys are just waiting patiently like a grandmother at a bus stop.

“You sure you wanna split up? We could tag team em’, go in together.” Keith suggest, pulling up his pants by the loops.

“We’ve got less chance of getting them to talk if we overwhelm them. We just want to get the dialogue going and hope something comes out. These guys have been involved in too much for something not to slip, that’s all we need. Once we have that we can pry the rest out.” Joe’s sure of one thing, Sam and Dean are as smart as they are criminal.

–

The door opens and Sam sits up a little, watching a cop in his fifties enter with a somber smile. He walks right over to the table and and pulls the only other chair sitting across from him and switching on the audio recorder.

“I’m detective Joe Burgess and I’ll be conducting this interview.” Joe reaches into his pocket and pulls the key the to handcuffs. “You’d probably like to get those off huh?”

“Yes, thank you,” Sam nods and holds his hands out as the detective unlocks them.

“So I’m not going to beat around the bush. I think we both know why you’re here.” Joe nods, looking Sam right in the eyes.

“Well, that makes one of us.” Sam smirks, leaning forward with both forearms on the table. “Are you going to tell me or make me guess.”

“You and Dean have been very busy the last eight years.” Joe taps the folder in front of him, leaving it closed. “I have to hand it to you, you’re two of the most enterprising young men I’ve ever seen. The construction company is impressive but all the little side projects you two have going on? It’s amazing you have time.”

“It’s just the family business,” Sam shrugs. Joe expected this reaction.

“Do a lot of guys who own a construction company also carry a loaded Glock?”

“I couldn’t tell you. But my handgun is registered, everything’s in order.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” Joe chuckles, “Hey, tell me why you weren’t home today? I thought Sunday was always a family day...”

Sam’s jaw ticks at the mention of his family and it’s all Joe needs to know where to start applying pressure.

“See, we thought you’d be at home, so we went there first before we found you down at the job site.” There’s a physical response in Sam to what he’s saying, heat rising in his cheeks and the veins of his neck flexing. “It’s a shame we didn’t know, we could have avoided that whole mess.”

Sam takes the bait. “You raided my house?”

“About an hour before we picked you up,” Joe confirms, watching the cool and collected guy across the table attempt to control the rage that’s clearly building. This is the Sam he’s been waiting eight years for, the guy might just slip up. “Don’t worry, your kids are fine, a little traumatized but I’m sure that’s nothing new.”

“And Y/N?” Sam uncurls his fist, then tightens it again, short nails digging into his skin. Joe knows he’s found the sweet spot.

“Oh, she’s alright too. She’s been across the hall talking with my colleague Detective Barden. She’s a little shook up but I hear they’re getting along just fine.” Sam seems to relax a little, it’s the last thing Joe wants so he strokes the fire. “I gotta say buddy your wife - shit, I’d give my right nut to be married to something like that.”

“I bet you would,” Sam snuffs.

“I’ve been part of the team that’s been keeping tabs on you and Dean from day one. I just have to say that Y/N has really been a real highlight. I mean with an ass like that I see why you keep her knocked up. I don’t think any of us blame you.”

“I’m a lucky man.” Sam bites his tongue, maintaining his composure. A younger version of himself would have reached across the table and ripped Joe’s throat out.

“See me and the guys have a bet. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still a knockout, but after four kids, that close together you gotta tell me… her pussy still tight?”

There’s flash over Sam’s eyes and a twitch of his shoulders. Joe sees it, the rage threatening to break the dam, but again, Sam remains calm. After a moment he smiles wide at Joe, leaning across the table like he’s going to tell him a secret like he’s shooting the shit with a friend at the bar.

“Better than you can imagine.”

Joe tips his head back and laughs because fuck all if Sam isn’t a sly bastard. He throws up his hands. “Well, good for you man. I’ve got two kids and a wife who hasn’t touched my dick in a year so you’ll have to forgive the interest.”

“Can we stop talking about my wife’s pussy now and you just ask me whatever it is you want the answer to?”

“Becoming a father is a life-changing thing,” Joe presses forward ignoring Sam’s request. “And you’ve got four? That’s a full house.”

“You have a point?”

“Just never expected you to be a family man, that’s all.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

“See, we got a theory about that too.” Joe smiles at Sam, “Y/N really got you with the first one right? What, did she say she was on the pill and beg you to fuck her without a rubber?”

“You’re venturing into dangerous territory,” Sam replies calmly.

“You and Dean had a pretty sweet setup. The girls were top shelf, I’ll give you that. I’ve got a hard time believing that Sam Winchester, the same guy who beat Kevin Morgan within an inch of his life, the same Sam who was getting blows jobs from bar skanks in the back of Dean’s car, just magically fell in love with a bartender and decided to start a family.”

Sam remembers the night Liam was born.

He was still trying to figure out how to be a mate, the idea of becoming father didn’t seem real until you went into labor. He paced across your living room, bare feet padding on the carpet, back and forth, back and forth, while Dean tried his best to distract him with a football game.

He’ll never forget the sounds you made, the scream and cries of desperation coming from the bedroom made him feel sick to his stomach… and it went on for two days. It sounded like you were being tortured and he was helpless to do anything but listen and wait. Sitting idle was a foreign concept to him.

Dean had finally got him to sit down with a beer when the midwife popped out of the bedroom, looking to Sam, “she needs her Alpha now.”

“Is she okay?” He asked, springing to his feet.

“She’s strong, but she needs your strength too. The first is always the hardest. Don’t worry, it’s what Omegas are built for.”

Sam could feel as he walked down the hallway, but nothing prepared him for the sight of you naked on your back, belly up and looking utterly broken. “Sam,” you cried, reaching for him. The bags under your eyes made them looks like sunken sockets, surrounded by pale, sweating flesh. You reached out to him and he took your shaking hand, more terrified than he’d ever been in his life.

“Hey baby,” Sam forced a smile, kneeling down and taking your hand into his.

“I’m so tired,” you gulped with chapped lips. “It hurts.”

“I know, but you’re doing really well.” Pushing wet hair away from your forehead he looked to the midwife for confirmation. From between your legs she nodded and somehow he just knew what he needed to do. “I’m right here, I’ll be with you.”

When it was over he watched awestruck as his newborn son suckled at your nipple. You were so exhausted you could hardly keep your eyes open, so he sat beside you, mother and child propped up on his chest for the first time.

He’d never been more grateful and all he knew was he wanted more.

“You with me?” Joe snaps his fingers in front of Sam’s face, bringing him back to reality.

“What was your question? ” Sam blinks.

“Let’s start simple, can you tell me what you were doing last Wednesday night between eight and midnight?”

“Last Wednesday,” Sam thinks, “I went to the bar with Dean, I was home by eleven.”

“Anyone else at home with you?”

“My wife.”

“She’ll confirm that I assume?”

“Yes.”

“And you stayed home the whole the night?”

“I just told you I did,” Sam confirms again.

“Well, you could have slipped out. Waited until the Missus falls asleep and…” Joe probes.

Sam scoffs impatiently. “I got home, watched the news, answered a couple emails, fucked my wife, then my two year old threw up all over his bed, when I say he threw up I mean an ungodly amount of vomit. You wouldn’t think someone so small is capable of spewing that much. I spent an hour dealing with that aftermath. By the time we went to bed, it was pushing four, maybe five.”

“I almost believe you.”

“I don’t care.” Sam snips.

“I believe that too.” Joe chuckles and flips through a folder. He pulls out a photo of a woman’s mangled body lying on the ground. Her flesh is bloated, a sickening blue.“You know her?”

Sam picks the photo, looking from the grotesque image to Joe, “I’ve seen her before, Shelly or Cheryl something.”

“Charlene. She was twenty-four when she died. Her parents reported her missing two years ago and she ends up dead a couple miles from your job site.”

“You think I killed her?”

“Well I know you knew her, you and Dean both did. I don’t know who did it. I find it interesting that that picture doesn’t bother you, just another body huh?”

“How am I supposed to react? Did you want me to cry? I’ll try to act more shocked next time.”

“There’s the Sam I’m looking for,” Joe cracks a smile leaning forward. “The blood doesn’t bother you, huh?”

“Not really, no.” Sam tightens his jaw.

“I tell you what, if I needed someone disappeared, I’d come to you. You guys are good. There’s no denying that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sam responds deadpan.

“Let’s take a look at these young women, you just speak up if anything rings a bell,” Joe lays out a series of pictures, some of them are old class photos, other personal family pictures. Sam recognizes most of them.

A few years back one of their own went rogue. Jesse Verik had a specific taste in women, he liked them young and innocent. He bit two dozen women before Sam was able to find him and put him down, leaving he and Dean to deal with the aftermath.  For six months the two of them shuffled newborn wolves from house to house while they suffered through the change, then learned how to control what they were. Not one of them had wanted to go home, all fearing the inevitable repercussions. It took time but Sam and his brother placed them all, one by one, around the country with packs that were looking to grow.

He’s now staring at a collection of assumed missing persons that aren’t really missing at all. If it comes down to it, Sam will get in touch in their Alphas and have the girls turn up alive, but he’d like to avoid it. They wanted to fall off the grid and start a new life, he can’t begrudge them that, not after what they’d been through. Being turned is traumatic enough when you know what to expect, but they were forced into this life. He won’t out them unless it’s a last resort.

“Yeah, I recognize some of them, but you already knew that right?” Sam asks and Joe nods in confirmation. He points to each one as he corroborates the facts. “She worked for my brother for a while, cleaned his house I think. The redhead up there worked for my mother-in-law, bartended for a while. The blonde with the short hair, she worked for me at Reliant. Filing and answering phones.”

“You fuck any of ‘em?” Joe thinks he already knows the answer to this but he’s pushing buttons.

“No,” Sam scoffs, “never.”

“All twenty of these women went missing within two months. All with a connection to you or your brother or one of your lackeys. Is that just a coincidence?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Sam shrugs, “people come and go around here.”

“Well, they seem to come and go a lot faster around you.” Joe flips his legal pad to a blank page and looks at Sam. “Let’s just go date by date, and you can tell me what you remember.”

—–

You wait the better part of an hour before the door opens to the small room and a short woman in her late fifties ambles it. She smiles tightly, giving you a nod of her head and sets down her papers on the table in front of you.

“I’m Diane, I’ll be your caseworker.” Diane shifts in her seat, looking at the pane of one-way glass. She flips the switch on the table and the red recording light on the camera in the corner of the room switches off. “They’re watching but they can’t hear, there’s no sound.”

“I can’t believe this is happening, look you have to understand that my children-”

“Everything’s gonna be alright sweetheart,” she reaches across the table and pats your hand. It’s the kind of touch that sends a tingle up your arm. She’s a wolf, but she doesn’t smell like any werewolf you’ve never encountered before, it’s just a faint scent that you never would have noticed without physical contact.

“What are you?” you tip your head, eyes narrowing.

“I’m a Beta, not many of us left.” She looks up maintaining her grim expression. “We have to go through the motions, so try not to look too comfortable, I’ll walk you through the process.”

Thank God, you sent up a silent prayer.

—–

Detective Linda Barden, Joe Burgess, and Keith Jablonski are gathered in a small windowless room between two interrogation suites. There are a handful of other cops in the room frantically pouring through files and evidence.

“There’s gotta be something we’re missing.” Keith offers with a shrug, “We just need one thing to tie them to one of the murders. Just one witness.”

“What about Dean?” Linda asks Keith.

“He’s not saying shit, just a bunch of fuck you’s.” Keith offers.

“Do you think the wife will break?” Joe turns to Linda.

“Yeah, but I need time. I called in child protective service, we’ll put the fear of God in her.”

“You think that’ll be enough to break her?” Joe persists.

“Like I said, it takes time. Sam’s got a hold on her, but if I can get her to realize all the shit he’s been doing right under her nose, that, combined with her kids hanging in the balance…I think she’ll flip. What about the guys? Neither of them has said anything we can use?”

“No,” Joe laughs, utterly exasperated. “It would be a fucking miracle. I think our best bet is to go after the wife. Sam’s a fucking psycho but he’s cool as a cucumber until you mention her or the kids. That’s where we gotta apply the pressure. We threaten her, we get the whole thing.”

“Time’s up.” Chief Calvin Wells doesn’t bother with a greeting, just throws the door open and stands wide with his hands on his hips. “What you got?”

“We’ve got a plan, sir,” Joe starts, “We need more time with wife, we can use her to-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Wells holds up his hand. “You’ve had the three of them here all day, not to mention the countless man-hours we’ve spent on this case. Almost a decade, the last chief let this go on and I’m putting stop to it once and for all. It’s a black hole. Now I’ve got a social worker comforting a distraught mother of four because she’s been cleared to take her kids home after she’s dealt with what social services described as ‘baseless accusations from an overzealous police department.’ And, you wanna know the kicker, the idiot cop you’ve got watching the kids doesn’t even know how to change a fucking diaper, the baby’s been sitting in shit for hours before my secretary took care of it. It’ll be a miracle if we get out of this without being sued.”

“They said the kids could go? Jesus fucking Christ, did the caseworker even look at pictures?” Linda balks, unable to believe what she’s hearing.

“It’s not enough. It was a long shot and you failed. Now get these guys out of my station house and do it now.”

“Chief, you gotta,” Joe protests, but Chief Wells is hearing none of it.

“This is not up for debate. You’ve got years worth of surveillance, potential witnesses, hell I got all the warrants you wanted and the most you could come up with is domestic violence? Get them the fuck out of my building. I swear to God if I hear another word about the Winchesters I’ll fire everyone in this damn room.”

The room clears out, people collecting boxes and the detectives disperse to spread the word that it’s finally over. Keith Jablonski hangs back until it’s only he and the chief before he closes the door.

“You ah… you think this going to come back to bite us in the ass?” Keith asks tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Maybe, but it’s better than the alternative.” Chief Wells adjusts his belt, looking around as if some invisible presence might be listening. “I gotta explain to the Alpha why I allowed a swat team to raid his home when his kids were there. Barden jumped the gun and fucked us both.”

“He’ll understand, Sam’s fair.” Keith offers. They both know their pack leader is level headed about most things, especially in recent years, but his family is a whole other story.

“I hope so.”

—-

You sit in a chair in the lobby surrounded by a crowd of detectives and beat cops in uniform milling around, having uttered conversations with their breath. The tension is palpable. No one’s satisfied with the outcome of today’s events, including yourself. It’s unclear why there are so many people. Maybe they’re just curious, eager to lay eyes on the Winchesters in person, or maybe they think there’s going to be some kind of scuffle. All you’re focused on is the sound of Sam’s muffled voice behind the door before it open and he steps out into the lobby.

His eyes sweep over the line of people until he spots you getting up from your chair. You walk to him, ignoring the snort from Linda, and let him pull you in.

“You okay baby?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you until you’re completely engulfed. He might be the pack leader, but right now he’s your Alpha and no one else’s.

“Yeah, I just want to get out of here.” You pull away from him.

“Where the fuck are my kids?” Sam turns to Chief Wells, who looks to be in complete distress. He motions to the cop in uniform beside him tells him to go see what’s taking so long.

Dean’s the next to wander out, throwing Sam a knowing look and winking at you.

Linda takes this as her last opportunity and steps toward you, “Y/N, you can still choose to do the right thing for-”

“Just stop talking,” Sam interjects before you have the chance, stepping between the two of you. “You’re done.”

Liam is the first through the door, having obviously just woke from a deep sleep as he rubs his eyes. He smiles when he sees his parents, ignoring you in favor of his father. You don’t mind. “Daddy…” he mumbles.

Sam scoops him up, cupping the back of his head with a hand. “You ready to go home, buddy?”

Liam nods, nuzzling his face into Sam’s shoulder. The other three children are brought out. Colin’s sleeping and you take him from the officer, as Owen wraps himself around your leg. Sam hands off Liam to Dean without protest, taking Killian as he cradles the baby in his arms.

For a moment all is forgotten; the fact that you’re in a police station, or the hours of non-stop questions. Now all seems right with the world as you watch your Alpha hold his infant son in his arms.

–

Sam pulls the car away from the curb, two of your children already sleeping in the back, the other two with Dean. He glances in the rearview before reaching over to take your hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“They came into our house, Sam. With guns.”

“I know, I-” Sam closes his eyes trying to swallow the anger because there’s nothing he can do about it at the moment.

“They could have killed the boys.” You take a deep breath pressing your free palm into your thighs. “You told me you had this taken care of.”

“I do,” Sam squeezes your hand his, the other gripping the steering wheel, “It’s over now. They’re not going to come after us again. Wells wants to meet tomorrow, I’ll make sure everything is squared right away.”

“He wants to cover his own ass I’m sure.” You grunt. “He told you he’d make sure we had a warning before they brought us in, what the hell happened to that.”

“He said the detective that questioned you is the one who gave the order. He didn’t know until it was too late.”

“This can’t ever happen again.”

“It won’t.” He confirms with all the confidence in the world. “I’ll always take care of you and our family, you’re the most important thing to me.”

���I know,” you give in a little. “You really think they’re going to let this go.”

“Any detective that wants to keep their job is going to listen to what the chief tells them. We’re gonna be fine sweetheart. I promise.”

Three Months Later

Detective Linda Barden gulps down the final vestiges of her cheap wine and says goodbye to her sister. She’s visiting Lincoln for the weekend, just a quick trip to see her family and catch up on the life she left behind.

Wrapping her jacket around her body she starts the half mile walk back to her hotel. It’s just after midnight and, despite it being a Saturday, there aren’t many people out and about. Five minutes into her journey she hears it, the sound that a crying baby coming from somewhere in the distance. It isn’t until she passes the alley at the corner of Shaffer and Rollins that she hears it again, coming from somewhere down the dark back street.

The cop in her knows something isn’t right, but she can’t put her finger on it. Maybe it’s the cries of the child or the uneasiness that settles into her bones? Reaching for her gun she curses when she realizes she’s not carrying a firearm, why would she be? She’s on vacation.

Linda makes her way as quietly as possible down the alley, just one foot in front of the other, step by step on high alert.

“Hello,” she calls out in a whisper, “anyone there?”

She has no time to react as a body hits her at full speed, knocking the wind out of her as a hand closes around her throat. She’s pushed face first into a filthy brick wall, gasping for air. She tries desperately to fight back, she’s pretty damn strong but her resistance is futile against her attacker who seems to have inhuman strength.

There’s the sound of tearing clothes as her jacket is ripped from her body, then her shirt. For a minute she thinks she’s going to be raped, but then comes the bite. Teeth sinking into the flesh of her shoulder, sinking into her skin as she screams in terror.

Then, without warning, she’s released, falling to the ground listening to the footfall of her attacker. She sobs, clamping a hand over the wound, blood gushing out in a hot stream over her fingers. All she can think is: he didn’t kill you, you’re alive. You’re alive.

What she doesn’t know is what will happen when the full moon rises, but that’s a story for another time.

[artificialqueens]

Bad Girls Club (Branjie) Chapter 6 - Joley

ao3 link

[June 6th, 2018]

“Tradition or not, this shit gonna get our asses busted one of these days, and I don’t know about y’all, but I’m trynna haul ass outta this zip code as soon as I can.”

“God, who invited Captain Buzzkill?” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “You as fucked up as we are, Silk. So, shut up and grab a box.” She passed a box of snap poppers to Silky and A’keria and kept one for herself. Glancing over her shoulder, she opened hers up and took one of the small, wrapped spheres between her thumb and finger. “On three.”

In stage whispers, the three girls counted down from three before throwing the little balls at the stairs of their high school, giggling as the loud snaps filled the otherwise quiet night – well, quiet for that part of town, anyway. Despite the complaints, it was still one of their most cherished traditions, dating back to eighth grade when they set off the poppers at their middle school the night after the last day, ringing in the start of the summer.

The girls were so caught up in their celebration that they failed to notice the police officer walking up behind them until he cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Seriously, you guys?” He pinched the bridge of his nose as the three teenagers scrambled upright in a haphazard (and fruitless) attempt to save face. “Alright, you know the drill. Davenport, Ganache, Mateo, into the car.” And they were left with no option but to comply.

While the process was always the same, the outcome varied based on multiple factors – the type of crime, the time of day, whether or not Officer Watts was fighting with his wife – but everything was added to the books, so to speak. Tonight, it just seemed like he couldn’t be bothered to do more than go through the motions, bringing each girl home and walking them to the door, so their guardians knew just where they’d been.

Vanessa was the last stop and the officer dropped her off to her mom with the repeated normalcy as any sort of scheduled custody exchange. “Say hi to Kimberly and the kids for me!” she called out as Officer Watts returned to his patrol car.

“Don’t try to buddy your way out of this, Vanessa. I’m getting real tired of this bullshit.” Her mother’s tone was as sharp as her glare, punctuated by the sound of the door slamming shut. “I see that police car come down this block more often than the ice cream truck! It’s like you’re not even trying to better yourself.”

“Better myself?” Vanessa scoffed and rolled her eyes. “What is this, My Fair Lady?” She calmed herself as quickly as she had snapped. “Sorry, sorry… but I promise we ain’t done nothing wrong, just hanging out.”

“Hanging out doesn’t get you brought home in a cop car. Don’t you ever stop and think about your future? How you gonna apply to college with a permanent record like that?”

The sudden silence that followed filled the room with a solemn sense of unease. Vanessa sat down on her couch and picked her dog up onto her lap. “Can we stop pretending I got a chance of going to college, Mom? We both know I’m not cut out for that.”

Her mother’s expression softened as she sat beside her on the couch. “Mija, I wish you could see the potential in yourself that I see in you.” She wrapped her arm around her and held her close. “You are not a lost cause, and I’m not giving up on you.”

[Present Day]

“Do you think prison’s actually like Orange is the New Black?” Vanessa asked, her gaze drifting from A’keria to the grass beneath her, ripping a handful of it from the ground and aimlessly scattering the blades.

A’keria quirked her brow. “Why you worried about it? The whole point of this shit is us getting clean records, so we don’t go to prison.” After a moment, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Is this about the whole prison wife thing you think Brooke Lynn was talking about?”

Vanessa looked away as she answered. “No…” She chewed on her lip. “Not just her. You really think this shit is gonna stick? That we’re gonna go to college and get on the dean’s list or some shit? This whole thing is just so they can pass the blame onto us when we fuck up and land in jail for real.” As she finished her rant, she noticed the expression on her friend’s face. It wasn’t quite anger or sadness, but it made her chest tighten. “What?”

“I just didn’t think you, of all people, would give up on yourself.”

“I’m not!” she quickly defended. “I’m just being realistic.”

A’keria turned and cornered her into eye contact. “Are you? Or are you setting yourself up for failure on purpose, so you don’t have to get out of your comfort zone?”

Vanessa huffed and crossed her arms. “Since when are you into psycho-ana…psych-analy-a…” She gestured vaguely. “You know, dissecting my brain and shit.”

“It don’t take fuckin’ Einstein to know you’re being ridiculous. Look, I’m not saying I’m not gonna drink or smoke or do hoodrat shit after this, but we got a chance at actually having futures. And if you’re gonna sit and act like none of this ever happened when we get back home, you’re a hugehypocrite for being mad at Brooke Lynn for wanting to go back to the good life she had.”

It was rare for Vanessa to be at a loss for words, but she had no way to argue what had been said. It would be a conscious choice to go back home and get in trouble again, and she would be disappointing everyone that cared about her. So, maybe she couldn’t fault Brooke for longing to escape from this situation, but it didn’t resolve how she felt about her or even in general. She lay down on the ground and stared off into space while the sun warmed her skin. “I don’t know what to say to her.”

She nodded slowly. “I knew it would come back to that. You give so much of your heart so easily, Vanjie. You set yourself up to get hurt. Hell, you might still have a shot with her if you actually stop and think about what you say instead of shooting off at the mouth.”

Vanessa pushed herself back up, shaking her head. “Nah, not with how I’ve been. She probably thinks I’m psycho now.”

A’keria shifted to her side to properly look at her. “You won’t know if you don’t talk it out. Just… Don’t slip back into your old habits.”

“What old habits?”

“Really, bitch?”

[September 3rd, 2018]

“Okay, the suspense is killing me, so I’ll bite. What the hell is wrong with Vanjie?”

Silky rolled her eyes before looking in Vanessa’s direction. Their friend was sat at the other end of the lunch table, pouting with her arms crossed, but also looking sincerely solemn and crestfallen. “Oh, that girl she been hooking up with all summer dropped her ass ‘cause she has a boyfriend.”

A’keria let out an exaggerated groan. “I told her. Didn’t I tell her? I said, ‘watch yourself with her, she ain’t in it for the long haul,’ right to her.” She sighed and shook her head, deciding to save the well-earned ‘I told you so’ for later. For now, she needed to be a comforting friend. “Alright, c’mere baby. It’s gonna be okay,” she soothed and wrapped an arm around her.

“She got me fucked up, man,” Vanessa’s voice trembled as she spoke. “She really went and said she ‘never felt like this before’ and now she’s gonna act like I don’t exist. Who does that shit?”

“Straight girls,” Silky chimed in, which got a small laugh out of Vanessa – much to both of her friends’ relief.

With the tension lifted – at least for the moment – Vanessa pushed herself up to her feet. “I’m not gonna stay stressing over this, okay? I’m good, fuck her and her greasy-ass boyfriend.” And with that, the school bell rang, and they were all off to class.

Silky walked with A’keria, trailing a few steps behind Vanessa. “Do you actually think she’s done stressing over this?”

“Not a chance.”

Much to their chagrin, A’keria ended up being proven right not a full three days later.

All it took was one house party with just enough alcohol and Vanessa was making out with her summer fling off in a corner. She had one hand up the back of the girl’s shirt, the other tangled through her hair – it was as if nothing had changed at all.

Until it did, ten minutes later.

“Where are you going?” Vanessa asked, not about to be left high and dry without putting up a fight. “It was just getting good,” she added with a discontented huff.

“My boyfriend’s here,” the ex answered in a calloused tone, reapplying her lipstick without looking in Vanessa’s direction. She fluffed up her hair and sauntered off, wrapping her arms around some lanky, awkward looking guy and effectively acting as though Vanessa ceased to exist.

A’keria got up to collect her friend. “This time I’m not holding back the ‘I told you so.’”

[Present Day]

“Are you still giving me the cold shoulder?”

Vanessa shrugged it off. “There’s a lot worse I could be giving you. Don’t push it.”

Brooke Lynn sighed and pushed herself to sit up on her bed. “Baby, I can’t fix anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” She pouted and reached out to grab Vanessa’s hand, swinging it slowly.

This wasn’t fair as far as Vanessa was concerned. How was she supposed to maintain her tough resolve when Brooke was giving her puppy dog eyes and a soft, pink pout? Her weakness was being used against her – it had been at least two days of freezing her out and she had been starting to get lonely anyway. She bit down on her lip and looked down. “I’m not trynna have this heart-to-heart yet. I know you ain’t about it, so the time has to be right.”

“Then let’s not talk.” Brooke noticed Vanessa wasn’t resisting her hold anymore, so she pulled her closer and closer until the smaller girl sat on her lap. “We don’t have to talk, just let me take your mind off it for a while,” she cooed as she started to place soft, slow kisses from her shoulder all the way up to her jaw.

The temptation was undeniable and nearly every part of Vanessa’s body was urging her towards Brooke. And at first, she gave in. She straddled her lap with her arms draped around her neck. Their foreheads rested against each other, lips just barely touching before connecting in a kiss. And another one, a deeper, languid one. For a moment, she was perfectly at ease. There was no yesterday or tomorrow to weigh down her mind – there was only now and only them in a dream of their own design.

Then she woke up to the sinking feeling that this was too easy. Not every problem could be solved by kissing pretty girls, no matter how hard she may try. She pulled away, standing up. “I can’t do this right now. It ain’t even you… I just…”

“You just what?”

Vanessa was shaking her head as she backed away. “You wouldn’t understand. Sometimes it’s better to not do enough than to do too much. That’s how you end up in this shit hole.”

[June 24th, 2019]

It was the dead of night, a time where – in many places – everything would be quiet and calm. But this was still Los Angeles in the early days of summer, when the weather was nice without the balmy heat making the air hazy, the kind of heat that made walking feel like trudging through a thick slime.

The ability to walk quickly and move nimbly was imperative for Vanessa and A’keria – down one from their usual trio with Silky away visiting family in Mississippi. It would’ve taken a lot more than that to quash Vanessa’s plans.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. I swear to god, if the police don’t kill you, I will. It’s like you’re trying to invent a new level of stupid shit to try to get away with and—”

“Shh!” Vanessa elbowed her in the ribs. “We’ll get away with it if you shut the fuck up.” And with that, she had effectively tuned A’keria out as they kept walking to their destination. “Alright, this is it.”

A’keria hesitated. “You sure? Cause if it ain’t—”

“It is. Now, do you want the eggs or toilet paper?” She held up a carton of eggs in one hand and a roll of toilet paper in the other, offering up both options.

After a moment of disgruntled hesitation, A’keria sighed and grabbed the toilet paper. If Vanessa wasn’t going to come to her senses, she would at least pick the lesser of two evils on her end.

Of course, when the police arrived it didn’t really matter who was throwing what – vandalism was still vandalism. But Vanessa sat upright and indignant as she was escorted into the backseat of the cop car. Just as the car was pulling away, she stole a glance out the window, at the girl who had ignited the anger in her that drove her to revenge.

She looked indifferent – mildly annoyed at most. This infuriated Vanessa to no end. “Look at her, she don’t even care. What the fuck?”

The other girl sighed with her head against the window. “Now do you see how ridiculous you’ve been? You got your ass all worked up over some bitch that don’t give two shits about you. I keep telling you it’s gonna land you in a damn mess and look where we are now. We could catch a real charge for this, V.” She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. There was no point in them fighting on top of everything else. “Just once I wish you’d think things through before you act, channel that passion into something useful.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “Listen, I’ll take the whole rap for this. It was my fault – you tried to talk me out of it.”

A’keria shook her head with a soft smile. “Nah, they caught me red-handed too. Besides, we’re still ride-or-dies no matter how foolish you act.”

[Present Day]

“Hey… Vanessa, right? Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Vanessa was undeniably caught off-guard when the hot, tattooed blonde that’d served her lunch plopped herself down beside her at the table. She blinked, taking a moment for her brain to connect to her mouth. “Um… Sure, what’s up?”

“You see that girl over there? With the blonde ponytail and the kicked puppy expression?” Kameron cocked her head in Brooke Lynn’s direction. “Every time I look at her, she’s looking at you. And I mean looking at you. So, I have got to know – is something going on between you two?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Vanessa looked down at the table for a good few moments before facing the girl who didn’t seem annoyed or jealous – just genuinely curious, which she supposed alleviated some of the anxiety the question could’ve caused. “You could say that,” was what she decided on. “But it’s complicated, you don’t want the whole backstory or nothing.”

Kameron chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Listen, I know complicated. And I know Brooke Lynn. I promise, nothing you could say about her would surprise me.”

It certainly wasn’t the response Vanessa was expecting, but it did explain the nonchalance Kameron had. “It’s not even her. I mean… it’s kind of her. But it’s me too. I got a… bad habit of getting real intense if I start to catch feelings, and she’s got this whole life to go back to, and I shouldn’t be mad at her for wanting to go back to her normal life…”

“So, what, she told you to fuck off back into the hood?”

Vanessa laughed, but it was a laugh filled with embarrassment and a hint of self-realization. “No… I just been avoiding talking to her about it since I’m, you know, real and emotional and shit, and she’s all closed off cause she’s a hornet.”

“Do you mean WASP?”

“Like it matters. It’s like we’re speaking different languages half the time anyway.”

Kameron tilted her head and pressed her lips together, going absolutely silent. In actuality, it wasn’t more than a minute or so, but with Vanessa unconsciously holding her breath, it felt like ages. “What if I go talk to her for you? You know, serve as a middleman or something.”

“Oh, no that’s not a— oh, okay, you already going. You ain’t even listening to me.” She hid her head in her arms on the table. “Well fuck me, I guess.” It wasn’t like the situation could get any more awkward, she figured.

Meanwhile, Kameron seemed as cheerful as she had been while serving food when she perched herself across from Brooke Lynn at the otherwise empty lunch table. “Long time no see, huh?”

[huntertales]

Part One: Aren’t You Kids A Little Young? (Freaks and Geeks S08E18)

Episode Summary: The reader and the Winchester brothers investigate a recent set of murders that appear to be caused by a vampire, and are surprised to learn that teenage hunter Krissy Chambers is involved. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,676.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

There was never any rest for the wicked. The same analogy applied for you and the boys. After everything that unfolded a few days ago with searching for the angel tablet and finding out what happened to Meg after she disappeared over a year and a half ago, it all ended in the direction you tried to avoid. Cas ran off with the tablet and the demon you hated since your first year of hunting died at the hands of Crowley. You got back to the bunker to recuperate and decided the next morning of what you were going to do about finding your angel. It turned out Dean had other ideas. 

He found a case for all of you, thinking it might be best to keep busy until Cas showed back up again. By the "we" he meant Sam and himself. The older Winchester thought you'd take the chance to sit this one out and take some time to treat yourself to some much needed rest. Kick your feet up and enjoy some alone time while the boys worked on this case. You hadn’t been up to your normal speed since you started the first trial. You could say you were feeling fine all you want, but the evidence was clear in your actions. And the part where you were coughing up blood on more than one occasion. When he told you were going to sit on this case, you laughed in his face. You didn't care what Cas said. You knew your body. And it felt perfectly normal. Well, good as one might feel in your position. 

You were feeling more tired than usual and feeling sluggish as time went on from doing the first trial. It was hard to tell where the pregnancy symptoms stopped and the effects of the trial took over. Cas did say the baby was okay. You felt the normal symptoms of what a pregnant woman was supposed to be going through. So, you took it as him saying you were okay enough to take part of your normal life. You were going to be fine in the end of things. Your motto of going through all of this was no pain, no gain. You were going to do the rest of the trials and continue hunting like normal. Nobody was going to tell you otherwise.

The case Dean found was state bound after he mentioned something about the police finding a couple of dead bodies on the side of the freeway in a town a few hours away from Lebanon. You didn't get too much information out of him when you asked, but there was something about the case that sounded supernatural enough for his attention. You and the boys pulled up to the police station in your usual formal clothes, ready to interview a few police officers to figure out more details. You patted around your pockets to make sure you had your usual assortment of things; fake ID, phone, some money and a knife stashed in the waistband of your slacks. Your memory was starting to get a little frazzled from all that you were juggling. 

"So, what are we looking at again?" You spoke up when you saw the Impala pull up to the police parking lot and stop, thinking it would be a good time to go over what it was that all of you were getting yourselves into. Dean grabbed the newspaper from the front seat and stretched him arm over his shoulder to hand it to you. You skimmed the article he found. “‘Two young women found on the side of the freeway with their throats ripped out.’”

“Sounds vampy to me.” Dean said, taking a guess at what might be to blame for these deaths. 

“Yeah, maybe.” You agreed with him. 

"Listen, Y/N." You glanced up from the newspaper you were still reading when you heard Sam speak your name. Hearing the tone of voice he was using on you made you lower the paper to your lap, you had a feeling you knew what he was going to say before the words came out of his mouth. Sure enough, you were on the right track.  It seemed the younger Winchester was trying his attempt at getting you to sit this hunt out for the sake of your health. "If you want to head back to the motel because you're not feeling up to it, I'm sure Dean and I can handle this ourselves." 

“What?” You asked him. 

"You know,” Dean continued on with what his brother was trying to say, deciding to be more blunt to get their concerns across. “the trials, what Cas said, that you got what he can't cure."

“Which means what, exactly?” You questioned the both of them. 

"Well, I don't know. You tell us." Dean said. "Are you okay?"

"For the millionth time, I'm fine. The real question is, are you two okay?" You deciding to turn the tables around on the brothers so it was them who was being bombarded for how their well being was. Neither one of them expected for you to switch the attention towards them. You raised your brow, patiently awaiting their answers. "Cas dinged you up pretty badly, Dean. And Sammy, you've been awfully quiet lately. I just want to make sure the both of you are okay.” 

"What, like our feelings?" Dean asked you. You nodded your head slowly, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from smiling from how he was reacting. "This isn’t a sharing circle, Y/N.” 

"Of course it is. You two are constantly bugging me. It's only fair I return the favor. I mean, we could make a big thing out of it. You can get me some tea and rub my aching back. Sam can feed me bonbons.” You said, coming up with an idea better than theirs. Your over exaggeration was for them to understand even a fraction for how stupid it was when they bombarded you with questios about your constant wellbeing. “If you guys insist on coddling me, you might as well go all the way. Show me your vulnerable side. We can even watch ‘Steel Magnolias’ to get in the mood and have ourselves a good cry.” 

“Okay.” Sam had enough with your sarcasm. He opened up the passenger side door started to get himself out, mumbling a remark under his breath from how you turned this all into a joke. “Eat me, Y/N.” 

“And you know what. We’ll just talk it out.” You went on, trying your hardest not to laugh when Sam slammed the door shut behind him with his brother not too far behind. You got yourself out and followed after them to the station. “Good talk. Nay, great talk! Very healthy!”

Dean told you to shut up when you approached the police station and walked inside to the busy late morning rush of officers talking among themselves and shuffling around cases that needed to be solved. You flagged down an older sheriff when you saw him speaking to the receptionist you couldn’t quite catch the conversation topic of. The three of you introduced yourselves and flashed him your badges and fooled him into thinking you were federal investigators here on official business. Lucky for you, he had a clue why all of you were here this morning. 

"FBI? You're here about the lady killer murders, aren't you?" The sheriff asked. You politely smiled at the ridiculous thing that came out of his mouth, taking you a moment to figure out he was talking about the two murders of the females from the article you read just a few minutes ago. It seemed he wanted to jazz things up to get the public’s attention. "I coined it myself."

"Congratulations. What can you tell us?" You asked the man.

"Well, both victims were female, under twenty-one, and here's the kicker—they were drained of all their blood." The sheriff explained the case details to all of you while he lead you through the station and back to his desk to continue going through the rest of the information left out of the article. Sam was intrigued with the detail, pretending he found it odd. "Exactly. We found that strange, also. But then last night, things got even stranger." 

"Last night?" Sam repeated after the sheriff. 

"Yeah. We set up a security cam on Fuller's point for safety purposes. It's where our local young people like to go make out.” The sheriff said. “Last night, things got crazy." 

The sheriff turned around his computer monitor around to show you and the boys footage of what appeared to be another murder that took place just hours ago. You watched the scene unfold when he hit the play button; a grainy black and white video showed you a scene of what appeared to be a girl struggling to get away from a man that was dragging her out of her car window. Before she could get hurt, someone came up from behind and...beheaded them with a machete. You managed to act surprised at what you saw unfold. It didn't take an idiot for you to realize the three people on the security footage were hunters working your case. Rookies from your guess after they failed to set up a piece of bait for the vamp before they went in for the kill.

“Hell of a thing, ain’t it?” The sheriff asked. 

"Uh,” Sam managed to keep his composure from what he witnessed, knowing it was more than what the sheriff was suspecting. “you I.D. any of these people?" 

“Well, not yet. Crime scene was empty when we got there. No vic, no nothing.” He said. You had to admit these hunters were smart enough to clean up their messes before the cops got there, but the footage was enough for them to get stopped before they even tried leaving the state for another case. The sheriff pulled up the video to show a perfect shot of one of the hunters. A girl who had to be a teenager. “I’m thinking it’s some kind of cult or drug thing. So I put a statewide A.P.B out on these three about an hour ago.” 

“We’re gonna need you to call that off. And we’re gonna need this footage.” Dean told the sheriff after finding the face on the screen all too familiar. The older man was taken back at the rather bold request. “Sheriff, why do you think we’re here? You just crossed streams with a federal investigation. Now, I suggest you cooperate, call off your A.P.B, or you’re gonna find yourself in a world of hurt.” 

You didn’t know what came over Dean that caused his sudden outburst of authoritative tone of voice demanding things to shed some light off the three people that just committed a murder in the eyes of the law. The sheriff was a little speechless at how his case was being ripped out from his hands, but he obliged. You were out of the station not even ten minutes later with the search called off and the only security footage of that night in your possession. You made your way back to the Impala, still a little curious about Dean’s urge to cover this girl’s tracks. You were all for helping out a fellow hunter, but something about this seemed personal for the man.

“So,” You pushed open the door to the station and headed outside with the boys following right behind you. “What was that all about, G-man?” 

"It's about someone we met when you were gone and got themselves messed up in all of this." Dean said. "Sam, you remember Krissy Chambers?"

“Yeah, the vetalas case, right?” Sam remembered why the name sounded familiar to him. “They were working that truck stop by the freeway. She and her dad helped us shut ‘em down.”  

"Right, and then he promised to go civilian so she wouldn't grow up to be a hunter. Well, guess who the star of this snuff film is?" Dean waved around the DVD case in his hand. You listened to the conversation unfold while you headed to the backseat. Either Krissy’s father took back his promise to give his daughter the life she deserved. Or she wanted to play hunter herself. 

“Come on.” Sam said, finding the first outcome a little hard to be true. “Maybe he doesn’t know she’s doing this. 

“What, sneaking out in the middle of the night to go hunt monsters with the apple dumpling gang?” Dean asked his brother. “Is that what kids are doing for kicks these days?”

“Okay. Then maybe he knows.” Sam guessed what was going on. “And he’s helping her out.” 

“What, get caught on ‘Candid Camera’?” Dean asked. It was an amateur  move even you knew better than to make when you first started hunting. For someone who had a parent who was a hunter and was showing her the ropes didn't seem likely. Something was going on with that kid, and Dean was determined to put a stop to it. "Let's just go find her before she gets into any more trouble." 

You opened up the backseat door and got yourself inside the Impala to track down this Krissy Chambers before she got herself hauled off in handcuffs. It brought up the debate of what the right thing a parent should do when they were hunters and they had a family of their own. Shelter your child and never tell them about the supernatural, or do you get them involved so they're always prepared for the creature lurking around the corner? 

It seemed the route of parents trying to get their children to keep away from the dark side was the ones who want it the most. Your mother tried her hardest to have you never learn about such things. Jo Harvelle grew up with her father as hunter and a mother who constantly fought tooth and nail to never see her daughter follow in those footsteps. You wondered what kind of reason Krissy had to get herself involved in such a dangerous lifestyle. If her father was around, you had a few choice words for the man of letting his daughter put herself in danger like this. 

+ + +

One of the perks about tracking down the Scooby gang in a small town like this was that they needed a place to crash while they conducted research and planned out their next move of attack. Night fell when you and the boys changed back into your street clothes and got a list of two available motels that were the only place for visitors to spend the night while they were in town. The three of you checked out the first one and ran by the description of Krissy to the clerk, making sure to flash a few twenties to get him to tell the truth. When he admitted that nobody of that description checked in over the past few days, it meant you only had one more place where she could be hiding out. 

Sure enough, after sweet talking up the man at the front desk and handing over a small wad of cash, he gave you the exact room number of one Krissy Chambers after she flashed him a fake I.D. that made her older than she obviously was. Another rookie mistake on her part. When it doubt, use fake names to cover your ass and stretch the truth just enough to fool the person you were trying to pull a fast one on. You thanked the man and went on your way to find the room where she and her group of friends were using. Sam picked the lock to the room and quietly pushed open the door, you following right behind him as Dean lingered back.

You looked around to see it was abandoned from the lack of a soul at the moment, but it was clear they had been here from unpacked bags and their laptop sitting on the table still open. As you made your way over to see what they had been looking at before ditching, you felt yourself momentary pausing in your actions at the sound of a gun's safety clicking off. You turned your head to the side to see  Krissy Chambers in the flesh, pointing a loaded gun at Dean. You and the boys were the least bit intimidated at the predicament you ended up in.

“Hey, Krissy.” Dean greeted the younger kid. 

“What are you two doing here?” She asked, surprised to see two familiar faces standing in her motel room of all places. 

"Saving your bacon, that's what." Dean told her.

“Does it look like my bacon needs saving?” She asked him a sarcastic tone of voice. 

“If you don’t lower that gun, it will be.” You warned her. 

Krissy turned her gaze away from the Winchesters and to you, a strange face she hadn't ever seen before until tonight. Her abrasive attitude and your requests didn't make for very good first impressions on one another. “Who the hell are you?” 

"Y/N Y/L/N. I'm presuming you're Krissy." You introduced yourself to her. You pointed a finger to the weapon she was still holding she never made an effort to put away to make all of you feel just the slightest bit more welcome. "Aren't you a little young to be playing with guns?” 

“That’s none of your business.” She replied. You scoffed at her attitude towards you, half tempted to rip the weapon right out of her hands to knock some sense into her thick skull. “Wait. How’d you find me? I paid cash everywhere.”

“Only two hotels within a twenty-mile radius, and we paid cash, too—just more.” Dean told the kid. 

Krissy rolled her eyes in frustration when she was ratted out by the old man running the front desk. She thought the extra forty bucks she slipped him would be enough to keep his mouth shut. It seemed the little trick didn’t work. She clicked the safety to the gun back on and dropped her arm back down to her side. “Freaking clerk.”

“Krissy,” Sam looked around the motel room trying to find any trace of a parental figure staying with her. “Where’s your dad?” 

“Dead.” She informed you. You were taken back at hearing what happened to her father. As you were about to tell her you were sorry about her loss, but Krissy’s grieving period was long over. Or she had one hell of a poker face she was giving you to get out of her hair. “Well, let's do this again, like, never. Now go. We got this.”

“We who?” You asked her. “And got what?”

Krissy answered none of the questions you bombarded her with all at once while you and the boys tried piecing together what kind of operation she and her friends were putting on. Krissy told you she was hunting a vampire, which made little sense to you considering you saw them take down one just the other night. You had a feeling there was a little infestation in town they were trying to take care of themselves. Krissy headed back over to her laptop and begin to watch something, you headed over to see she was overlooking a live feed of her friends while they conducted something on this hunt. From the looks of it, they were picking a lock to a motel room. 

You watched as they gained access inside and cautiously headed forward, cautious about the chance the monster they were hunting was waiting for them inside. You noticed they even had audio to go along with their way of hunting. All though you weren’t giving out any props or congratulating them on choosing to hunt, you had to admit they were using technology to their advantage. Streaming the hunt and constant communication with one another for when things went south and needed some backup. 

“We're in. The room's clear.” You heard a female voice come from the computer’s speaker as she narrated what she was doing. “Nobody here but a vic.”

You saw a girl come into view on the screen, she was tied up to the bed and gagged from letting anyone figuring out what kind of predicament the vamp left her in. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as the kids work, letting them at least have the satisfaction of rescuing the girl before she got hurt. While things appeared to be going as planned, things quickly escalated to worst case scenario wen Krissy's hunting partners found themselves having unexpected company. You saw one of the teenager's cameras spotted the vamp that was standing in the motel room, looking rather pissed off when he saw them trying to take his food.  You didn’t care if they were the most experienced hunters for their age, you and the boys bolted out of the motel after you saw Krissy make a run for it to help her friends. 

The boys barged in first with guns drawn out to slow down the vamp at least enough for all of you to finish him off. You and Krissy were just seconds behind and managed to get into the room to overpower the monster in numbers with six against one. While it looked like there was no way he was going to get out of this alive, the vamp knew there was one way to escape and see another day. He used his abilities against all of you when you saw the vamp running towards the window. All that was left behind was broken glass after he jumped to the street below. Dean tried to get a clear shot at the vamp while he ran off towards a blue van parked right across the street with the engine running, but it was no use.

“I got him!” Krissy declared.

You turned your head at the right time to see the kid running out of the motel room and after the vamp, thinking she could take him all on her own. You didn’t waste a second following right behind her while shouting that she wasn’t going to do this alone. Dean heard your voice and saw the both of you disappear from his sight and after the vamp, making him become overwhelmed with anger. Krissy should have been nowhere near this hunt in the first place, and you were in no shape of running after a vamp. He let out a frustrated breath and found himself running after the both of you, hoping he was fast enough to catch up before anything happened. 

Your body might have been going through all sorts of changes, but you were able to keep up with Krissy long enough to follow her down a flight of stairs through the motel and to the empty streets where you saw the vamp trying to make a run for it. You checked to make sure you had your weapon ready when you saw Krissy pull out what you thought was a gun, thinking she was going to shoot to slow him down. You caught up with her right as she took her aim and pulled the trigger, sending him dropping to the ground like a sack of flour. When you saw him suddenly groaning in pain at what she had done, you figured he wasn't shot with regular old bullets. Krissy had a trick up her sleeve to get him right where she wanted him. 

"How about a heads up the next time you decide to run off?" You heard another pair of footsteps behind yours, making you look back to see that it was Dean. He had raced down the same path you had taken fast as he could to try and catch up with the both of you. You noticed he was slightly out of breath while you were composed after the run. Just a few days ago you couldn't fight a demon without becoming dizzy, now you were acting like you were fine. "How did you manage to keep up with her?"

"I got a head start." You said, shrugging your shoulders at the lack of answers you could provide for him. You turned your attention over to Krissy, slightly curious as to what she was holding in her hand if it wasn't a gun like you originally suspected. "How did you manage to drop him so quickly?"

“Darts filled with dead man’s blood.” Krissy told you. 

"Huh. That's..." You found yourself honestly impressed with her idea of how to inject venom into a vampire's bloodstream without having to get close to them. You swore you saw the ends of Krissy's lips stretch into a smirk when you complimented her. "not a bad idea." 

"Where's the blue van?" Dean asked the both of you. You furrowed your brow slightly from his question, wondering what he was talking about. You looked around the street to see that it was empty of a van that he saw from the window. "The blue van that he was bolting to." 

You had no clue what he was talking about, you were more concerned at the vamp at your feet that needed to be taken care of before the dead man's blood wore off and he was hungry for revenge. You pulled out a knife from the back of your jeans, ready to take care of this for good. Before you could take a step, Krissy stopped you. You gave the kid a confused look at what she was doing. 

“This is not your kill.” She said. 

"What are you talking about?" You asked. 

Krissy's friends came jogging over to where the three of you were with Sam following behind the both of them before you could finish the job. It seemed that the girl wanted to be the one to separate the vampire's head from his neck. And for a good reason why. She approached the vamp with her machete drawn with the blade pointing at him, ready to use it on him. “Three months ago, this blood banger snuck into a house and killed three people in their sleep.” 

“What?! No!” The vampire shouted, trying his hardest to defend himself. “I didn’t do that!” 

"One was a woman—never hurt anyone!" She went on, ignoring the monster's pitiful attempts at trying to gain sympathy with his blatant lies. The other two, a brother and sister."

The vamp shook his head, not understanding how this was connected to him. You looked away from him and to the girl standing over him, having a feeling she was talking about someone she knew deeply. The victims she thought he was responsible for. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

“I came home from a friend’s house, and I found him. They were my family!” Her voice broke when admitting the people she was talking about was her own flesh and blood, viciously murdered at the hands of this monster. The vamp pleaded for his innocence to the five faces staring at him, letting this teenager hold a weapon near his face. None of you were falling for the crocodile tears, the girl he had trapped in his motel room didn't make you think he was above murdering a family for a quick meal. 

You flinched when you saw a girl who probably wasn't even voting age take a machete and slice off a vampire's head clean. This wasn't a sight you wanted to be exposed to, for a child to be at the other side of the weapon and the one who beheaded a monster she shouldn’t know about at all made it worse. To the three teenagers, this felt like a sigh of relief. A horrible pain allowed to finally start healing. Krissy stepped forward to her friend and placed a hand on her back in support, whispering to her that everything was going to be okay. The grief she felt was over. 

“We need to talk to you privately.” Dean told Krissy, pulling her away from comforting her friend. 

Krissy didn't look too pleased from the conversation she knew was going to happen the moment she saw the Winchesters come back into her life and saw how it ended up. As she walked over you and the boys, her other friend stepped forward and stopped her from going over to you. He looked at the three of you suspiciously. "You know this guy?"

"Yeah." Krissy said. "We have a past." 

You watched as Krissy and Dean decided to go somewhere more private to discuss how she ended up hunting after her father was killed, how was what the older Winchester needed to find out. You and Sam got to work of disposing of the body before anyone could figure out what was going on. While doing so, you learned the name of Krissy’s friends—Josephine and Aiden. The three of them were reunited together not only because all of their families were murdered by vampires, because of someone who took them in and looked after each of them like his own children. You listened to everything and how they ended up here, trying your hardest not to show your disapproval at how they got involved with something dangerous like hunting. 

When you were their age you were studying for the SATs and worrying about college, who you were going to take to junior prom. Not tracking and hunting a vampire after they murdered your entire family. Well…for a short time you lived in that blissful world where the supernatural was just things you read about. Until your attention shifted to learning everything you could about the things that went bump in the night, helping the Winchesters track and find cases for them. A handful of years later you were out on the road hunting, but it was different. You were an adult when you made the choice of becoming a hunter. You took baby steps, getting your revenge on the monster that killed your parents years later. 

Even then, that’s not why you got involved in the first place. Hunting wasn’t about searching for the thing that ruined your life and killed your family. There was so much more they still had to learn about. It was about helping others in time of need and making this world a little bit of a safer place. Dedicating your entire life knowing there wasn’t a chance you could ever get out and live a normal life. You had to cling to every scrap of happiness you could find, and constantly look over your shoulder in fear you might end up dead from an enemy you forgot. You found yourself having to stop thinking about the topic form the things crossing your mind. Because it went against everything you were fighting for to have. 

You hoped Dean could talk some sense into Krissy before she and her friends were the ones you were disposing of their body after they found themselves a monster’s victim. While the boys grew up in the lifestyle and you were learned the ropes on your own, it seemed the kids had someone who was giving them something you never had. A balance of the hunting world, and a home to come to afterwards. It all felt too good to be true. But it seemed these kids hit the lottery on being able to balance both worlds. 

You kept yourself busy and somewhat helpful when you offered to pop the trunk and get everything ready for when after Aiden and Josephine finished wrapping up the vamp's body in plastic and duct tape. When you saw Krissy brush past you from the corner of your eye, you turned your head to see Dean and her came back from their little talk. You and Sam decided to let the teens finish up the work in favor for a little talk of your own. They were the ones who wanted to be involved in this, they were going to—dirty work and all. You took one more glance over at them to observe how they worked together, knowing you couldn’t deny they were pretty decent for being only teens.

“What happened?” Sam asked his brother, wondering how the talk went.

“Teenagers,” Dean grumbled, still ticked off from the attitude he was given by Krissy when he shared his concern for what she was getting herself involved in. “That’s what happened.” 

“She tell you about Victor?” You wondered. 

“Yeah.” Dean said. “What do we think?”

“Well, didn’t we meet up with a hunter named Victor one time in Spokane?” Sam asked.

"That's a long time ago." Dean said, knowing that hunt was from a hunt at least a handful of years back. All the cases you took felt like they blended together at this point. The faces you met along the way and the connections you made with a hunter didn't stick in your head, which was the reason why the name didn't sound all too familiar. "I haven't heard about him since." 

"All right," You said. "So, these kids are—" 

 "Dangerous and off their meds?" Dean guessed. "Yeah, no kidding."

"So, what?" Sam asked, wondering what your next move was going to be for tonight. "We go and talk with Victor?"

You weren’t going to oppose giving this Victor a piece of your mind about what he was doing for these kids and getting them involved in something dangerous as hunting, let alone running around looking for the thing that killed their families. A few minutes later the three teens were calling it quits on the hunt after a job well done. They stashed the body into the trunk of their car and decided to head home before it could get too late. You and the boys followed behind them, eager to see how all of this dynamic worked out for them. And if it was all too good to be true. 

[Next Part]

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[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Bad Girls Club (6/?)

Title: Bad Girls Club Summary:  Los Angeles’ new program, the Juvenile Female Rehabilitation Program (JFRP) was created with the purpose of taking at-risk girls in the county and send them to a summer-long program located where a sleepaway camp once stood. There, they will take classes in ethics, behavior, and other courses to help mold these young minds. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa have been sent there for wildly different reasons, but with the same result - a clean permanent record. Being roomed together, the pair might find an unlikely alliance (and maybe more) in each other. Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter)/~16.1k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: E

Read on AO3

[June 6th, 2018]

“Tradition or not, this shit gonna get our asses busted one of these days, and I don’t know about y’all, but I’m trynna haul ass outta this zip code as soon as I can.”

“God, who invited Captain Buzzkill?” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “You as fucked up as we are, Silk. So, shut up and grab a box.” She passed a box of snap poppers to Silky and A’keria and kept one for herself. Glancing over her shoulder, she opened hers up and took one of the small, wrapped spheres between her thumb and finger. “On three.”

In stage whispers, the three girls counted down from three before throwing the little balls at the stairs of their high school, giggling as the loud snaps filled the otherwise quiet night – well, quiet for that part of town, anyway. Despite the complaints, it was still one of their most cherished traditions, dating back to eighth grade when they set off the poppers at their middle school the night after the last day, ringing in the start of the summer.

The girls were so caught up in their celebration that they failed to notice the police officer walking up behind them until he cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Seriously, you guys?” He pinched the bridge of his nose as the three teenagers scrambled upright in a haphazard (and fruitless) attempt to save face. “Alright, you know the drill. Davenport, Ganache, Mateo, into the car.” And they were left with no option but to comply.

While the process was always the same, the outcome varied based on multiple factors – the type of crime, the time of day, whether or not Officer Watts was fighting with his wife – but everything was added to the books, so to speak. Tonight, it just seemed like he couldn’t be bothered to do more than go through the motions, bringing each girl home and walking them to the door, so their guardians knew just where they’d been.

Vanessa was the last stop and the officer dropped her off to her mom with the repeated normalcy as any sort of scheduled custody exchange. “Say hi to Kimberly and the kids for me!” she called out as Officer Watts returned to his patrol car.

“Don’t try to buddy your way out of this, Vanessa. I’m getting real tired of this bullshit.” Her mother’s tone was as sharp as her glare, punctuated by the sound of the door slamming shut. “I see that police car come down this block more often than the ice cream truck! It’s like you’re not even trying to better yourself.”

“Better myself?” Vanessa scoffed and rolled her eyes. “What is this, My Fair Lady?” She calmed herself as quickly as she had snapped. “Sorry, sorry… but I promise we ain’t done nothing wrong, just hanging out.”

“Hanging out doesn’t get you brought home in a cop car. Don’t you ever stop and think about your future? How you gonna apply to college with a permanent record like that?”

The sudden silence that followed filled the room with a solemn sense of unease. Vanessa sat down on her couch and picked her dog up onto her lap. “Can we stop pretending I got a chance of going to college, Mom? We both know I’m not cut out for that.”

Her mother’s expression softened as she sat beside her on the couch. “Mija, I wish you could see the potential in yourself that I see in you.” She wrapped her arm around her and held her close. “You are not a lost cause, and I’m not giving up on you.”

[Present Day]

“Do you think prison’s actually like Orange is the New Black?” Vanessa asked, her gaze drifting from A’keria to the grass beneath her, ripping a handful of it from the ground and aimlessly scattering the blades.

A’keria quirked her brow. “Why you worried about it? The whole point of this shit is us getting clean records, so we don’t go to prison.” After a moment, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Is this about the whole prison wife thing you think Brooke Lynn was talking about?”

Vanessa looked away as she answered. “No…” She chewed on her lip. “Not just her. You really think this shit is gonna stick? That we’re gonna go to college and get on the dean’s list or some shit? This whole thing is just so they can pass the blame onto us when we fuck up and land in jail for real.” As she finished her rant, she noticed the expression on her friend’s face. It wasn’t quite anger or sadness, but it made her chest tighten. “What?”

“I just didn’t think you, of all people, would give up on yourself.”

“I’m not!” she quickly defended. “I’m just being realistic.”

A’keria turned and cornered her into eye contact. “Are you? Or are you setting yourself up for failure on purpose, so you don’t have to get out of your comfort zone?”

Vanessa huffed and crossed her arms. “Since when are you into psycho-ana…psych-analy-a…” She gestured vaguely. “You know, dissecting my brain and shit.”

“It don’t take fuckin’ Einstein to know you’re being ridiculous. Look, I’m not saying I’m not gonna drink or smoke or do hoodrat shit after this, but we got a chance at actually having futures. And if you’re gonna sit and act like none of this ever happened when we get back home, you’re a hugehypocrite for being mad at Brooke Lynn for wanting to go back to the good life she had.”

It was rare for Vanessa to be at a loss for words, but she had no way to argue what had been said. It would be a conscious choice to go back home and get in trouble again, and she would be disappointing everyone that cared about her. So, maybe she couldn’t fault Brooke for longing to escape from this situation, but it didn’t resolve how she felt about her or even in general. She lay down on the ground and stared off into space while the sun warmed her skin. “I don’t know what to say to her.”

She nodded slowly. “I knew it would come back to that. You give so much of your heart so easily, Vanjie. You set yourself up to get hurt. Hell, you might still have a shot with her if you actually stop and think about what you say instead of shooting off at the mouth.”

Vanessa pushed herself back up, shaking her head. “Nah, not with how I’ve been. She probably thinks I’m psycho now.”

A’keria shifted to her side to properly look at her. “You won’t know if you don’t talk it out. Just… Don’t slip back into your old habits.”

“What old habits?”

“Really, bitch?”

[September 3rd, 2018]

“Okay, the suspense is killing me, so I’ll bite. What the hell is wrong with Vanjie?”

Silky rolled her eyes before looking in Vanessa’s direction. Their friend was sat at the other end of the lunch table, pouting with her arms crossed, but also looking sincerely solemn and crestfallen. “Oh, that girl she been hooking up with all summer dropped her ass ‘cause she has a boyfriend.”

A’keria let out an exaggerated groan. “I told her. Didn’t I tell her? I said, ‘watch yourself with her, she ain’t in it for the long haul,’ right to her.” She sighed and shook her head, deciding to save the well-earned ‘I told you so’ for later. For now, she needed to be a comforting friend. “Alright, c’mere baby. It’s gonna be okay,” she soothed and wrapped an arm around her.

“She got me fucked up, man,” Vanessa’s voice trembled as she spoke. “She really went and said she ‘never felt like this before’ and now she’s gonna act like I don’t exist. Who does that shit?”

“Straight girls,” Silky chimed in, which got a small laugh out of Vanessa – much to both of her friends’ relief.

With the tension lifted – at least for the moment – Vanessa pushed herself up to her feet. “I’m not gonna stay stressing over this, okay? I’m good, fuck her and her greasy-ass boyfriend.” And with that, the school bell rang, and they were all off to class.

Silky walked with A’keria, trailing a few steps behind Vanessa. “Do you actually think she’s done stressing over this?”

“Not a chance.”

Much to their chagrin, A’keria ended up being proven right not a full three days later.

All it took was one house party with just enough alcohol and Vanessa was making out with her summer fling off in a corner. She had one hand up the back of the girl’s shirt, the other tangled through her hair – it was as if nothing had changed at all.

Until it did, ten minutes later.

“Where are you going?” Vanessa asked, not about to be left high and dry without putting up a fight. “It was just getting good,” she added with a discontented huff.

“My boyfriend’s here,” the ex answered in a calloused tone, reapplying her lipstick without looking in Vanessa’s direction. She fluffed up her hair and sauntered off, wrapping her arms around some lanky, awkward looking guy and effectively acting as though Vanessa ceased to exist.

A’keria got up to collect her friend. “This time I’m not holding back the ‘I told you so.’”

[Present Day]

“Are you still giving me the cold shoulder?”

Vanessa shrugged it off. “There’s a lot worse I could be giving you. Don’t push it.”

Brooke Lynn sighed and pushed herself to sit up on her bed. “Baby, I can’t fix anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” She pouted and reached out to grab Vanessa’s hand, swinging it slowly.

This wasn’t fair as far as Vanessa was concerned. How was she supposed to maintain her tough resolve when Brooke was giving her puppy dog eyes and a soft, pink pout? Her weakness was being used against her – it had been at least two days of freezing her out and she had been starting to get lonely anyway. She bit down on her lip and looked down. “I’m not trynna have this heart-to-heart yet. I know you ain’t about it, so the time has to be right.”

“Then let’s not talk.” Brooke noticed Vanessa wasn’t resisting her hold anymore, so she pulled her closer and closer until the smaller girl sat on her lap. “We don’t have to talk, just let me take your mind off it for a while,” she cooed as she started to place soft, slow kisses from her shoulder all the way up to her jaw.

The temptation was undeniable and nearly every part of Vanessa’s body was urging her towards Brooke. And at first, she gave in. She straddled her lap with her arms draped around her neck. Their foreheads rested against each other, lips just barely touching before connecting in a kiss. And another one, a deeper, languid one. For a moment, she was perfectly at ease. There was no yesterday or tomorrow to weigh down her mind – there was only now and only them in a dream of their own design.

Then she woke up to the sinking feeling that this was too easy. Not every problem could be solved by kissing pretty girls, no matter how hard she may try. She pulled away, standing up. “I can’t do this right now. It ain’t even you… I just…”

“You just what?”

Vanessa was shaking her head as she backed away. “You wouldn’t understand. Sometimes it’s better to not do enough than to do too much. That’s how you end up in this shit hole.”

[June 24th, 2019]

It was the dead of night, a time where – in many places – everything would be quiet and calm. But this was still Los Angeles in the early days of summer, when the weather was nice without the balmy heat making the air hazy, the kind of heat that made walking feel like trudging through a thick slime.

The ability to walk quickly and move nimbly was imperative for Vanessa and A’keria – down one from their usual trio with Silky away visiting family in Mississippi. It would’ve taken a lot more than that to quash Vanessa’s plans.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. I swear to god, if the police don’t kill you, I will. It’s like you’re trying to invent a new level of stupid shit to try to get away with and—”

“Shh!” Vanessa elbowed her in the ribs. “We’ll get away with it if you shut the fuck up.” And with that, she had effectively tuned A’keria out as they kept walking to their destination. “Alright, this is it.”

A’keria hesitated. “You sure? Cause if it ain’t—”

“It is. Now, do you want the eggs or toilet paper?” She held up a carton of eggs in one hand and a roll of toilet paper in the other, offering up both options.

After a moment of disgruntled hesitation, A’keria sighed and grabbed the toilet paper. If Vanessa wasn’t going to come to her senses, she would at least pick the lesser of two evils on her end.

Of course, when the police arrived it didn’t really matter who was throwing what – vandalism was still vandalism. But Vanessa sat upright and indignant as she was escorted into the backseat of the cop car. Just as the car was pulling away, she stole a glance out the window, at the girl who had ignited the anger in her that drove her to revenge.

She looked indifferent – mildly annoyed at most. This infuriated Vanessa to no end. “Look at her, she don’t even care. What the fuck?”

The other girl sighed with her head against the window. “Now do you see how ridiculous you’ve been? You got your ass all worked up over some bitch that don’t give two shits about you. I keep telling you it’s gonna land you in a damn mess and look where we are now. We could catch a real charge for this, V.” She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. There was no point in them fighting on top of everything else. “Just once I wish you’d think things through before you act, channel that passion into something useful.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “Listen, I’ll take the whole rap for this. It was my fault – you tried to talk me out of it.”

A’keria shook her head with a soft smile. “Nah, they caught me red-handed too. Besides, we’re still ride-or-dies no matter how foolish you act.”

[Present Day]

“Hey… Vanessa, right? Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Vanessa was undeniably caught off-guard when the hot, tattooed blonde that’d served her lunch plopped herself down beside her at the table. She blinked, taking a moment for her brain to connect to her mouth. “Um… Sure, what’s up?”

“You see that girl over there? With the blonde ponytail and the kicked puppy expression?” Kameron cocked her head in Brooke Lynn’s direction. “Every time I look at her, she’s looking at you. And I mean looking at you. So, I have got to know – is something going on between you two?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Vanessa looked down at the table for a good few moments before facing the girl who didn’t seem annoyed or jealous – just genuinely curious, which she supposed alleviated some of the anxiety the question could’ve caused. “You could say that,” was what she decided on. “But it’s complicated, you don’t want the whole backstory or nothing.”

Kameron chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Listen, I know complicated. And I know Brooke Lynn. I promise, nothing you could say about her would surprise me.”

It certainly wasn’t the response Vanessa was expecting, but it did explain the nonchalance Kameron had. “It’s not even her. I mean… it’s kind of her. But it’s me too. I got a… bad habit of getting real intense if I start to catch feelings, and she’s got this whole life to go back to, and I shouldn’t be mad at her for wanting to go back to her normal life…”

“So, what, she told you to fuck off back into the hood?”

Vanessa laughed, but it was a laugh filled with embarrassment and a hint of self-realization. “No… I just been avoiding talking to her about it since I’m, you know, real and emotional and shit, and she’s all closed off cause she’s a hornet.”

“Do you mean WASP?”

“Like it matters. It’s like we’re speaking different languages half the time anyway.”

Kameron tilted her head and pressed her lips together, going absolutely silent. In actuality, it wasn’t more than a minute or so, but with Vanessa unconsciously holding her breath, it felt like ages. “What if I go talk to her for you? You know, serve as a middleman or something.”

“Oh, no that’s not a— oh, okay, you already going. You ain’t even listening to me.” She hid her head in her arms on the table. “Well fuck me, I guess.” It wasn’t like the situation could get any more awkward, she figured.

Meanwhile, Kameron seemed as cheerful as she had been while serving food when she perched herself across from Brooke Lynn at the otherwise empty lunch table. “Long time no see, huh?”