#'anyway. Found a bug in the corner of my broken house his name is John'

[shurisneakers]

PETER PARKER FIC??????? DO IT!!!!! PLEASEEEEEEEE

hear me out..... end of the world crack!fic

[znaeb]

Meet Cute // Z.K.

Bass thumped through his entire body, the house seeming to vibrate with how loud the speakers were.

He made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen looking for Nick, knowing that he was probably at the counter playing bartender.

“Nick!” He called from the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

“Yup?” He responded, his eyes scanning around the room for a second to find Zion.

“Found this in the shower.” He held Nick’s phone above his head with one hand and raised his eyebrows as if to ask ‘what— or who— were you doing in the shower?’

Out of nowhere he heard a small giggle and his head snapped to the right to see who it was. A small girl stood there with a cup in one hand and a cherry popsicle in the other.

She was so pretty, probably the prettiest person he’d ever seen. He looked at her for a second before he even thought to speak.

“Hey... I’m Zion.” He raised his hand to shake hers, but before he could take it another girl rushed into the kitchen and to her side.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What’re you doing?” She threw a glance at Zion, “never mind, doesn’t matter, come with me.”

“But I was just—” she was interrupted by her friend pulling her out of the kitchen, only able to turn around and shout, “nice to meet you Zion!” Before she was whisked away.

He wanted to say something back but she was already gone. He turned to Nick who had quietly witnessed the exchange, “Who was she?”

“I dunno man, one of Dani’s friends I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders and continued making whatever drink the girl standing next to him had asked for.

“Who the fuck is Dani?” Zion’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Girl she left with.” He nodded his head towards the door they left through.

“Damn.” Zion sat down at the kitchen island and opened himself a beer.

~

He’d been wandering around the party for 30 minutes trying to find her again and he hadn’t had any luck. The house wasn’t that big, but it was packed with people. He asked random girls if they knew who or where she was, even going as far as describing her clothes to a group who said they knew Dani. Still no help.

By far the most crowded place was the living room. He stopped there and hoped that she would walk in, or that he’d see her from his strategic spot in the corner.

After another 30 minutes had passed, he was losing hope. Thinking that when Dani took her away that she must have fully taken her out of the house, figuring that the only way he hadn’t even seen her must be that she left the party entirely.

He grabbed another beer from the kitchen and stumbled back into the living room feeling so disappointed. He danced for a while before getting bored and going to sit outside in the back yard.

He sat in the grass a few feet away from the trampoline in the corner of the yard and laid down on his back, groaning out loud since he was finally alone. He closed his eyes, listening to the bugs and enjoying the breeze.

He heard something shatter inside the house and then someone started laughing. He rolled his eyes and hoped that it wasn’t anything of his that was broken.

The glass patio door slid open.

“Z?”

He sat up on his elbows and looked behind him to see Edwin stepping outside and sliding the door closed behind him.

“What’re you doing?” He spoke again as he walked over.

“Just getting some air.” Zion said nonchalantly and laid back down on the grass. Edwin came and sat beside him. “Have you seen that one girl? Dani’s friend?” He asked with a little bit of hope in his voice, knowing that most of the girls there were Edwin’s friends. What a ladies man.

“Who the fuck is Dani?” Edwin’s question burst his bubble and he sighed.

“I don’t fucking know.” He shook his head and closed his eyes again, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh...” Edwin obviously didn’t understand what the hell Zion was talking about, but then again he rarely did. “I’ll ask around tomorrow if you want.”

“Thanks man.” Zion looked over at him and nodded with sincerity.

“So.... why you looking for a girl you don’t even know?” He asked.

“I don’t know man, she was just so pretty.” He sat up and started picking at the grass by his leg, “like the kind of pretty that’s going to be burned into my head for forever.”

“You sound like a sappy YA novel.” Edwin deadpanned, his face looking suspicious. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk!” Zion punched his arm and Edwin fell over laughing, “shut up, Ed.”

“Alright, alright.” He sat back up and slightly shoved Zion’s shoulder, “what’d you guys talk about?”

“We didn’t.”

“Huh?”

“We didn’t talk, I introduced myself and then she left with her friend.” He rubbed his face in frustration and slouched. “But she said it was nice meeting me as she left... and her voice was so nice when she said my name. I should’ve followed them out, I should’ve gotten her number.”

“You’re joking.” Edwin raised an eyebrow, “you literally sound like an excerpt from a John Green book, bro.”

“Fucking hell.” Zion huffed and stood up from the grass, “I think I’m gonna get another beer.”

“Yeah, I should go find Miranda.” He said and looked at his watch, “she’s gotta work tomorrow, I don’t want to keep her out too late.”

Zion paused, waiting for Edwin as he stood up and looking towards the house.

“Why is my bedroom light on?” He said out loud.

“I dunno, you probably left it on.” Edwin rolled his eyes and started to make his way toward the house.

“No, I didn’t.” He hustled past Edwin and into the house, ready to break up whatever was happening in his room.

He jogged up the stairs and down the hall, his door was closed but he could see the light coming from underneath the door.

“Hey yo, bedrooms are off limits.” He said as he opened the door.

“Fuck dude, get out.” The guy on his bed yelled as he turned slightly away from the girl sitting next to him.

“You get out asshole, this is my room.” He yelled back, angrily picking the guys jacket up off the floor and throwing it at him.

“Fuck you, man. You shouldn’t throw a party and expect people not to leave for some privacy.” He stood up and stepped closer to Zion.

“The fuck? Go home if you want privacy.” Zion shoved him back, feeling like his personal space was being severely invaded.

In the blink of an eye the guy was back across the room and throwing punches. Zion avoided his fists as best as he could but still got hit in the eye.

Zion threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around the guy’s middle, tackling him the the ground and trying to restrain him from punching anymore.

The girl was yelling something and went to the doorway, shouting for someone to come help break them up.

Zion didn’t want to throw any punches, he didn’t want to be fighting at all, but as the anger bubbled up inside of him and his head started to ache from the impact of the hit he’d taken, he couldn’t help himself from landing a few good blows.

All of a sudden he was being pulled up off of the floor and pushed against the wall, he tried to fight back but stopped when he realized it was Brandon.

“Bro! Chill, chill!” He said loudly. Zion looked over B’s shoulder to see the other guy being held back by what he assumed was one of his friends.

He was breathing heavily and his nostrils flared, he shrugged Brandon’s hands off, stepping forward and away from the wall.

“I’m cool.” He said gruffly, eyes still on the other guy. Watching as his friends hauled him out of the room and down the stairs.

“Alright, party’s over. Clear out.” Brandon clapped his hands once and started ushering people out.

~

A while later the house was quiet.

Zion laid on his bed with an ice pack on his eye. He hadn’t left his room, but he knew the rest of the house was pretty much empty.

He heard Austin talking downstairs, probably to one of the other boys or his girlfriend, but that was the only voice he could positively identify.

Then he heard someone on the stairs. He sighed and hoped that it wasn’t someone coming to check on him. But of course it was.

There was a knock on the door and he called out asking who it was, Nick answered. He poked his head inside the door and said, “hey how ya doin’?”

“I’m alright Nick, my head just fucking hurts.” He spoke quietly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah yeah, well that’s what happens when you get punched in the face.” Nick shrugged, “anyways, here.”

He spoke quickly and then Zion heard him running down the stairs. He looked up in confusion and there she was.

She was finally in front of him and he didn’t know what to say.

“I’m y/n.”

“I’m Zion.” She giggled at him and took one step into the room.

“I know.” She looked at him carefully, her hands tucked behind her back. “You better keep the ice on that, it’s already swelling.”

He finally realized that he’d taken his hand away from his face, putting it back quickly and looking away when his cheeks flushed.

“You can come in.” He said, beckoning her further into the room with his free hand.

She didn’t say anything, but she came over and sat next to him on the bed. He looked at her and she looked at him.

“Y/n.” He said.

“Yes?”

“Oh, I don’t know... I just wanted to say it.” He spoke stupidly, his mouth turning up into a small smile when she laughed at him.

“Zion.” She said his name thoughtfully, then she nodded to herself and said, “yep, just saying it was a fun idea.”

He laughed in return and looked at the floor.

“I looked for you for like 2 hours.” He said suddenly, finally getting annoyed at holding the ice up and taking it away from his face.

“Well I left, so that’s probably why you didn’t find me.” She tilted her head to the side and picked the ice pack back up, holding it to his face for him.

“Where did you go?” He asked, his eyes looking at the bracelets on the wrist resting in her lap. He reached out and pulled her empty hand towards him, turning it over and spreading her palm flat against his.

“I took my friend home.” She smiled and watched him play with her fingers.

“And then you came back?” He questioned.

“Um, well Dani texted me that Nick was looking for me. So she gave me his number and I called to see what was up.” She recounted the short but very important sequence of events, “he told me that you had been asking around for me, and then he asked if I’d come back to the party and see you.”

He was now holding her tiny hand completely between both of his, watching her face as she told him what happened.

“Remind me to thank him later.” He chuckled.

A few seconds of silence passed before she spoke, “So how’d you end up in a fight?” She asked softly, looking a little hesitant.

“Some drunk guy was making out with some girl in my room and he didn’t like it when I told him to leave... I shouldn’t have punched back, but I got really pissed off when he knocked me in the eye.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows again and took the ice pack away from his face to inspect the forming bruise.

“Yeah, that’d piss me off too.” She nodded.

He laughed again and nudged her shoulder with his, “I’m glad you understand.”

They sat quietly for a moment or so before Zion realized that he was still holding her hand. He gave it a small squeeze to ask if it was okay and she responded by pulling his hand into her own lap and running her thumb over the backs of his knuckles.

They stayed up and talked for a long time before she went home, and he even kissed her cheek when she left.

~

The next day his phone went off at about 11 am, he’d received a text from an unknown number. He scrunched his eyebrows and opened his phone to read the message.

‘Don’t forget to thank Nick.’

*********

This is allllllll over the place, but I felt like posting :P

[crispychrissy]

Define Justice - Chapter 8

Chapter Summary: Dean’s connection to the killer gets him kicked off the case and suspended, but he doesn’t let that stop him from getting to the truth, even when his stubbornness puts him in the same area as the killer. Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader x Ruby, Agent Dean Smith, Agent Novak, Agent Gabriel, Charlie Bradbury, Zoey (OFC), Lisa, Benny the bulldog Word Count: 3502 Warnings: Angst, language, sexuality, drinking, bookshelf violence Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this chapter! Just so everyone knows, Dean is not Dean Winchester, don’t forget. His parents are Bobby and Ellen Smith. Ellen was killed by a serial killer as we found out a few chapters ago, and Bobby was still alive until he died 10 years before the story takes place. I just want to make sure people know that before going into this chapter to avoid confusion. Thank you to @saxxxology for betaing and being my muse. I will also give someone a cookie if they can figure out where I got the name / location of the diner from. :) Tags are still open, so please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged.

Series Masterlist — Complete Masterlist

“What?!” Dean snapped, sprinting behind the counter to look at the DNA results himself.

“It’s a 99.96% familial match for you,” Zoey slid her chair a few inches away from Dean as he furiously clicked on the results. “I could try running it again, but-”

“No, no way.” Dean shook his head in disbelief. “I was an only child, I don’t have any siblings. My mom died when I was a kid and my dad died ten years ago,” Dean looked up at Gabriel and Novak with wide eyes. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“DNA doesn’t lie, Dean. We both know that,” Zoey whispered, resting her hands in her lap and staring at the flustered agent rapidly clicking away on her computer.

“Smith,” Novak’s voice made Dean cease his clicking and look up. “You know what I have to do. I’m sorry.”

“Please,” Dean all but begged, “you can’t do this. I was the one that found the most amount of leads you’ve had in years, you can’t kick me off this case!”

“It’s not up to me, Dean,” Novak said firmly, “you’re related to at least one of the killers, and it’s a conflict of interest no matter if you know them or not.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I’ll get you a plane ticket back to Quantico.”

“Please, nobody has to know it matched me,” Dean pleaded, “just run it through the database again and see if we get a full match.”

Novak shook his head and walked over, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Come on, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest again, but Novak just shook his head, silencing him. He was still processing the fact that he has a brother he never knew about, and apparently that brother was someone they were looking for. So many thoughts were running through his head that the drive to the airport and the flight passed in a blur.

The moment he opened his apartment door, he threw his suitcase across the living room with a grunt, slamming it into his bookshelf, knocking a few of the shelves down and causing books to scatter across the floor. He sank to his knees and intertwined his hands behind his head, finally letting the tears fall. He’d had the best career opportunity ever ripped out from under him and at the same time, he had a brother. A half brother, at the very least, who happened to be one of the Justice Killers.

He had to do something. He couldn’t just sit there and wallow in shock and misery.

After his father died, he inherited the trunk that housed all the documents about his mother’s case and his dad’s time on the force. If he had a brother, there had to be something in there about it. He stood up and ran to his bedroom, pulling out the old leather trunk that was collecting dust at the bottom of his closet.

He unlatched it and pulled out the stack of folders that were inside, gathering the folders in his arms, walked to his kitchen, and dumped them on the table. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and took three large pulls right from the bottle, groaning as the liquid seared his throat.

He was halfway sorting through folders from the early 80’s when there was a knock on the door. For several long seconds, he stared at the door, as if trying to psychically will the person away so he could continue working. When a second knock echoed after a few seconds, Dean marched to the door and pulled it open quickly.

“What?” He growled aggressively before softening his expression when he saw it was Lisa with Benny next to her. “Oh, sorry, Lisa.”

“It’s okay,” she murmured sympathetically, “I heard you were back, thought you would want Benny. He missed you.” Lisa leaned to the side and eyed the open whiskey bottle and the mess on the kitchen table, then her eyes flitted to the broken bookshelf. “Bad day?”

“The worst,” Dean nervously chuckled. He grabbed Benny’s leash from Lisa’s hand and smiled at her. “Yeah, I owe you.”

She smiled and nodded. “Maybe I can come over and help you put together a new bookshelf and you can make me dinner?”

Dean turned around and eyed the broken bookshelf as he ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah… sounds good. Thanks again, Lisa.”

She smiled and waved before Dean shut the door. He reached down and unhooked the leash from Benny’s collar and gave the dog a rough head scratch. Benny yipped happily and Dean grabbed his favorite toy from the counter and threw it down at him, watching as the dog happily collapsed onto the round bed in the corner and began gnawing on the felt bone. He walked back over to the table and began reviewing every single case file his father had.

A half a bottle of whiskey later, Dean flipped open a folder that went over potential witnesses his father interviewed during his off-the-books investigation. There was a woman’s name circled several times throughout the paperwork. One of the times her name was circled there was a note next to it.

Cacciatore's Diner on Sullivan, 15:00.

Dean read the note out loud and furrowed his brow, trying to figure out why that name sounded so familiar. He immediately began to rapidly flip open case files and notebooks, trying to find the spot where he saw that name, finally flipping open the small calendar book from 1982 to the month of August and saw the name of the diner repeated six times in one month, along with a woman’s name.

Dean sighed and took another pull from the bottle of whiskey. “Well shit... who the hell is Mary Winchester?”

Dean checked the clock on the microwave and pulled out his phone. He was suspended with full pay while the Bureau cleared him of all involvement, but he did have a friend at the office who owed him a favor. He dialed and it rang three times before an answer came.

“Hey Dean-o, I heard what happened. I’m so sorry, how’re ya holdin’ up?” Charlie’s drawl immediately brought a smile to Dean’s face.

“Hey Charlie. I’m pissed and drunk,” he let out a humorless chuckle. “I was actually wondering if I could bug you for something and cash in one of the favors you owe me.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Whaddya need?”

“I was wondering if you could run a name through the federal database as well as through Kansas local crime files. It’s a name I keep seeing in my dad’s calendar from the 80’s,” Dean said, trying to hide how drunk he actually was by speaking slowly.

Charlie clicked open the federal database and settled the phone into the crook of her neck. “Sure. What’s the name?”

“Mary Winchester, spelled like the gun. Run her for current location and criminal record for federal and state.” Dean flipped open the calendar again and stared at the dates where her name was written. “My dad never mentioned her, but he met with her like six times in one month.”

“Found one match. Mary Sandra Winchester, date of birth is December 5, 1954,” Charlie clicked a few times, opening up a different window on her computer. “No current address, let me try local. Hang on.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” Dean said, stumbling to the kitchen sink to fill a glass of water. The last thing he needed was to be hungover tomorrow if this turned into something promising.

Charlie was silent for about a minute before she spoke again. “I found her in Kansas. Same date of birth… let me see if I can pull up some - oh. It says here that she’s deceased. She died in November of eighty-three, car accident.”

“She’s dead?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. I found her obituary. Poor thing, she’s beautiful. It says she was married to a John Winchester, who also died in the car crash.” Charlie clicked a few times, expanding the obituary. “Oh, it says they left a little boy behind named Sam. Sam Winchester. He was only six months old.”

“Do you have any info about him?” Dean asked quickly, his voice raising a few octaves. Dean’s brain was running a mile a minute as he began to do the math between the dates Charlie gave him.

“Dean,” Charlie began, “are you going to tell me what this really is about? You sound too jittery for this to be some normal curiosity.”

“I’ve been going through my dad’s things I inherited after he died. If I have a half brother out there, I was hoping he would write something about it in his files. He wrote the name Mary Winchester a bunch in August of 1982,” Dean took a breath and a big gulp of water. “Do the math, Charlie. Sam was born in May of 1983. Nine months before that is August of 1982, the same month my dad was meeting with her.”

Charlie gasped as she did the math herself. “Oh my goodness. You think that-”

“That this Sam Winchester is my half brother and might be one of the fuckin’ Justice Killers, yeah.” Dean ran his hand down his face and let out a heavy sigh.

“Dean-o, as much as I love you… I can’t keep this from the task force. I could get into a mess of trouble, chérie,” Charlie chewed on her bottom lip nervously, “if they know about it, we can find him faster, anyways.”

Dean clenched his jaw, but he knew Charlie was right. He was suspended and had no authority, and he couldn’t risk Charlie getting in trouble covering for him. He took a few sips of water and dumped the rest down the sink.

“Okay,” he sighed, “just tell them that I found the loose thread, but you unraveled the sweater, alright?”

Charlie smiled at Dean using one of her sayings. “Will do, darlin’. I’ll text you if they find anything. Oh, and Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Sober up. You sound like a freshman at his first kegger,” Charlie giggled.

“I will. Thanks again, sweetheart.” Dean ended the call and sat down at his kitchen table again. He picked up his father’s calendar and shook his head, smiling. “I guess some people have different responses to grief.”

The break in the case didn’t happen for another week. Dean was still suspended, but Charlie was keeping him updated daily on any progress made in the case. Novak and Gabriel both agreed that even though the case now concerned one of their agents, the lead was too much to be a coincidence and issued an APB on Sam Winchester in Illinois and the majority of the states in the Midwest.

When Dean received the text message from Charlie that they found Sam and were bringing him in, he caught the first flight to Kansas.

Sam had been picked up coming out of a convenience store after the clerk called the local PD. The clerk spotted a local motel room key in his hand, so they set an unmarked squad car outside to wait for him. He came back the following day and was picked up. He put his hands up without a fight and was silent all the way to the police station, where he was once again given his rights and pt in a detaining room.

Dean took a cab from the airport to the Colby police department and walked right up to Novak before he could say anything in protest.

“I know I’m still suspended, but I have to hear what he says,” Dean spoke before Novak could open his mouth. “I’ll be in observation and I won’t interfere. He won’t even know I’m there. Please, sir, I just need to see it with my own eyes.”

Novak glanced at Gabriel, who simply shrugged in response. “Okay… but this never happened, got it? Not a peep from you, no matter what he says. You let us handle it”

Dean smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

“I did some research on your father,” Novak began walking toward the interview rooms with Dean next to him. “All the officers I spoke with that he worked with said Mr. Singer was a great man, and that Ellen’s death really took its toll on him. Maybe your dad’s obsession and grief will give us our big arrest in this case.”

Dean smiled politely. “I hope so. I just don’t know why my dad never told me I have a step brother.”

“Maybe your dad didn’t even know,” Gabriel chimed in. “Not the first time two people just click and fall into bed together. I wonder if her husband even knew.”

“We’ll never know. But for now, we don’t have enough to compel a DNA sample. Judge said everything is circumstantial.” Novak opened the door to the observation room for Dean. “I’m hoping we can trip him up on his alibi and get enough for a search warrant.”

“Fingers crossed. Good luck.” Dean stepped inside the observation room and stepped toward the one-way mirror.

The man sitting at the table was extremely tall with long, slightly floppy brown hair. He was leaning back in his chair and impatiently tapping on the table with his pointer finger. There was nothing familiar about his face, nothing that connected them. His nose was long and pointed, lips thin, jaw set. Except for the eyes. The shape was completely different, but the color was unmistakable.

They had the same fucking eyes, of all things.

Novak and Gabriel entered the room, causing him to perk up, and Dean leaned to over to unmute the intercom.

“Thank you for joining us, Mr. Winchester,” Novak said, sitting down.

“Like I had a choice. You gotta do what the law asks or you get your ass handed to you,” he scoffed, “you gonna tell me what I’m doing here?”

Novak offered a kind smile. “Well, we just had a question about where you were on the night of the eighteenth.”

Sam pursed his lips and locked eyes with Novak. “Do you really wanna know?”

“Very much so, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I was busy.” Sam smirked.

Novak raised an eyebrow. “Busy… doing what?”

“Fucking my girlfriends in a motel off the highway in Lafayette.” Sam smiled at the surprised looks on the agents faces.

Novak cleared his throat. “All night?”

“All. Fucking. Night.” Sam smiled again and leaned back in the chair to adjust himself. “I can go into detail if you want… draw you some nice diagrams of all the positions they like me to put ‘em in.”

“Th-that won’t be necessary.” Novak stuttered before he looked down at the crime scene report for the most recent victim. “Do you know a gentleman named Boyd Cutler? He lived in Mansfield, Ohio up until a little over a week ago.”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, I knew Boyd. He used to hang out in this bar near one of the foster homes I was in. He bought me my first beer.”

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Cutler?” Novak made eye contact with Sam, watching for any signs of deceit.

“I saw him about…” Sam blew air through his lips and looked up at the ceiling, apparently thinking hard, “‘bout a week ago. I was passing through town and stopped at his house for a drink. He was celebrating something, he didn’t tell me what. He was pretty plastered and I left after like a half an hour or so?” He waved the hand that wasn’t cuffed. “I’m on a roadtrip with my girlfriends and I didn’t want to stick around.” He leaned forward and smiled at Novak. “They tend to start playing with each other if I’m gone for too long and I don’t like missin’ it.”

Dean studied Sam’s expression and found absolutely no signs that he was lying. Either he was extremely good at hiding his tells, or he was telling the truth and it would explain why his hair was there. He shifted, watching Sam’s body language. Most people who were brought in for questioning by the FBI were pretty damn nervous, guilty or not.

Something about Sam’s casual posture and lewd remarks gave Dean an uneasy feeling deep in the pit of his stomach.

“Right,” Gabriel cleared his throat. “Do you have any receipts for the room in Lafayette? Just to prove that you were there.”

Sam nodded. “Back in my current motel room, yeah. I’d have to search for them, though. I can drop them off when I find ‘em.”

“We would appreciate it, thank you. You can just leave it with the receptionist anytime within the next twenty-four hours.” Novak turned to Gabriel. “Agent Gabriel, do you have any other questions?”

“I… uh, no. I don’t.” Gabriel stood up and went to the door, careful to avoid making eye contact with Sam as he turned to face him. “You’re free to go Mr. Winchester. Thank you for coming in.”

Sam quickly stood up and winked at the agents. “You’re welcome. Where’s the bag you guys took when I was picked up? I’m gonna need it for tonight.”

“Got some stuff for your girlfriends?” Gabriel tried to joke, and Sam laughed, a low, cold chuckle that came right from his powerful chest.

“Those girls make me go through two boxes of condoms a week,” Sam held his arms out to his sides, “but hey, what can I do? Gotta keep my girls happy, give ‘em what they want.”

Novak smiled tightly. “Wait here, Agent Gabriel will find it for you. And thanks again.” Novak followed Gabriel to the door and opened it, stepping into the hallway. Dean also walked over to the door of the observation room and stepped outside to meet Novak in the hallway.

“So what are you guys gonna do?” Dean asked when Novak stopped in front of him.

“Well, he has an alibi, we just have to wait for the proof,” Novak said quietly. “We can’t hold him, Smith.”

Dean looked down the hallway as Gabriel brought a plastic bag with items in it into the interview room, along with a red duffel bag. “There’s somethin’ off about him, Novak. I got this really uneasy feeling in my gut watching him.”

Sam stepped into the hallway right as Novak began to speak. “I know he’s your half-brother, Dean… but we have no reason to hold him. If his alibi doesn’t check out, then we’ll go from there.” Novak patted his shoulder and turned to follow Gabriel down the hallway.

Sam had stopped dead in his tracks the moment he heard Novak speak. Slowly, he turned to look at Dean, and the moment their eyes met, a sinister smirk twitched at Sam’s lips. Dean’s eyes went wide as the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach returned, bile rising in his throat.

He’d heard. He knew.

Sam flashed a wink and an evil smile his way, and the glare of the light reflected in those green orbs shook Dean down the the marrow of his bones. “Take it easy, brother,” Sam said calmly before he continued walking into the main area of the police station, albeit a little faster and stiffer than was normal.

Dean took a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he turned and rushed down the hallway towards the bathroom. He pushed the door open and bent over the sink, knuckles white as he gripped the porcelain. His heart pounded in his chest as he retched, dry heaving into the basin. After taking several deep breaths to calm himself, he splashed several handfuls of cold water on his face.

The door swung open seconds later, and Dean looked up to see Novak standing just behind him.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

Dean shook his head and closed his eyes. “No, I’m not alright,” he muttered. “My fuckin’ half-brother just mouthed off to you and Gabriel about screwing two girls at the same time, who has the balls to do that to a Fed?”

Novak shrugged. “Him, apparently. Come on, I told you all you could do was see this interview, now it’s time for you to get back to Quantico. I’ll call a cab to take you back to the airport, and I don’t want to see your face again until we finish this damn case.”

Dean didn’t argue as Novak strode out of the bathroom and went to the office to collect his things for him. He could feel that something was off about Sam. Nobody could be that relaxed during an interrogation. Dean opened his eyes when he recognized the feeling he was getting in his stomach. Hot, boiling truth at what he knew deep in his gut.

Sam Winchester was the Justice Killer, and Dean was going to prove it no matter what.

Forevers: @katymacsupernatural @queen-of-deans-booty @your-modern-shakespeare @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @wheresthekillswitch @holyfuckloueh @just-another-busy-fangirl @growningupgeek @ididntasktogetmadedidi @trashimaginezblog @jensen-gal @spnbaby-67 @feelmyroarrrr @donnaintx @potterhead1265 @mizzezm @there-must-be-a-lock @atc74 @mereka18 @pilaxia @supernatural-jackles @squirrel-moose-winchester @impala-dreamer @bambi95-blog @batmmgray @brooke-supernatural16

Define Justice: @winchesterprincessbride @manawhaat @httpslouisoh @thelittleredwhocould @fallingoutthetardis @introverted-book-lion @unicorndreamer1622 @mishamigosassbuttedmoose @deans--chevy--baby @dean-winchesters-babydoll @dizzy-sunshine @ryantherandomhero @frickfracklesackles