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destielshippingnews · 3 years ago

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Edvard's Supernatural Guide: 1x15 The Benders

In this analysis, I discuss stupid cannibals, a stupid script, and stupid Dean in an episode I considered skipping.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, the fifteenth episode of Supernatural enjoys a place among the fan favourite episodes. True to form for the early years, this episode is heavily inspired by American folk lore. In spite of its superficial similarities to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (one of the first American horror films where the threat was not an outside force representing the gays or the commies, but rather something rotten in American society), this episode draws on the story of the Bloody Benders, a ‘family’ of serial killers from Kansas in the 1870s responsible for the deaths and probable cannibalism of at least eleven people. The episode also sticks to Supernatural’s early years horror-film-every-week aesthetic.

However, when I watch a show called ‘supernatural’, I am not interested in either 1) the police and the law, and 2) mundane humans being the villains. Although this episode did include a policewoman, I am glad that the Dean-is-a-wanted-serial-killer subplot did not come to the fore because I cannot for the life of me care for it. That might belong in The X-Files, but it is just dead weight in this show and I will celebrate when it is finally dropped. I enjoyed seeing Dean manage a fluent social interaction with the sheriff and bond with her over their missing relatives, but I am glad it went no further than it did.

But back to the plot, some people claim this episode is one of the most unsettling of all the episodes, but the cannibal hill-billies do not give me the willies. I do not care if people like this could actually exist: so they like killing, big whoop. I collect Dean pops and watch Days of Our Lives of my own volition, we all have our vices. Moreover, the episode relies on its characters being uncharacteristically stupid in order for its plot to be possible. This makes it hard for me like.

Something it did well, however, was the subtle placing of the camper van in the cold open (can we even call it a cold open when there is no title card for this episode?). It lurks in the background without drawing attention to itself, and it is also present in precisely the same way when Sam leaves Dean in the bar. First-time viewers may not notice it, and it is completely possible that most people watching it a second or third time will also miss it, but those of us who notice certainly appreciate not having our hands held.

A result of Supernatural being on the WB (and from 2006 onwards the CW) is that it was bound by network restrictions on what could and could not be shown, said, and done. This episode has a gruesome atmosphere which is surprising even for Supernatural, and feels like an utterly different show to what is seen in roughly series 5 onwards. However, due to the above-mentioned restrictions, next to none of the cannibals’ man-flesh eating (and note, Dear Reader, that it is exclusively men who are shown killed and eaten by this family) is shown. Instead we are given clues such as the photographs of the dead bodies, the jar of teeth (which Dean unwisely stops to examine in a moment of uncharacteristic-yet-typical-of-this-episode stupidity) and various bones hung from the ceiling like wind-chimes. Particularly evocative is the metal-on-bone sound of Daddy Cannibal chopping up what is presumably Alvin Jenkins’ body (the missing father from the cold open).

I and many others have commented on the stark similarities between the atmosphere, presentation, and style of this show and The X-Files. As well as the fact both shows were filmed chiefly in Vancouver, Canada, a lot of the staff on Supernatural had worked on The X-Files, including writer John Shiban and director/executive producer Kim Manners (who took photography-fan Jensen under his wing as his directing protégée), as well as a baker’s dozen of extras and minor characters such as the professor in 1x11 Scarecrow and Samuel Campbell (Mary Winchester’s father). Even Mark Shepherd (Crowley) appeared as a pyromaniac in The X-Files1x12 Fire at the very beginning of his acting career. One more similarity is the likeness this episode bears to The X-Files 4x03 Home which features a cannibalistic, incestuous family and a baby buried alive.

The aforementioned Kim Manners was director of that episode, and it aired a mere decade before this episode: they all knew what they were doing when they made 1x15 the way they did: plenty of viewers from The X-Files watched Supernatural (at least at the beginning) and would likely have appreciated the similarities. However, 1x15 does not live up to the precedent set by 4x03 (which I had watched two or three years before viewing this episode in 2008 and remembered clearly). The restrictions seem tighter and the script is not up to the same standard. (Please remember that this is the same network which would not allow Willow and Tara to kiss on screen for over a year after they got together on Buffy, and the same network which featured next to no physical intimacy between Jack and his boyfriend in Dawson’s Creek.)

As all too frequently with this show, there is potential for greatness here, but it goes unfulfilled. This will become a refrain over the course of the show: as I said in my introduction to this series of analyses, it had the potential to blow Buffy and Angel out of the water, but alas it did not.

Regarding the script, one of the issues was that the characters acted dumb for no reason other than plot progression. Sam should never have been overpowered so easily by two yokels: he is rusty after a few years at university, but there is no good reason why he would not be armed with at least a gun wherever he goes. The sheriff was also especially idiotic in leaving Dean handcuffed to the car whilst going to investigate the hill-billies’ home alone. Dean could also have wasted both brothers and Daddy Cannibal alone in the fight at the end if the script had not had him forget to check his back. Even getting into that fight in the first place was silly: I can understand the viewers thinking Missy was an innocent victim, but surely Dean is jaded enough after 22 years in the hunting life to be suspicious of a dirty little girl walking about unattended in a cannibals’ house. As for his presence in the house in the first place, what good reason did he have for not dousing it in petrol, lighting it on fire, and ganking the cannibals as they fled?

The plot needed him not to is the answer. Just like the plot had him leave home unarmed that morning, meaning he went to the Cannibals’ house with no guns, knives, daggers, or even a lock pick. Such contrived, uncharacteristic stupidity.

Apropos the plot, it robbed me of the natural conclusion to Dean being the MVP of this episode. The fight scene before Daddy Cannibal knocks him out was well-choreographed and showcased how skilled and dangerous a fighter Dean is: what a shame, then, for it to be cut short and for us to never get the proper conclusion to that fight, which would have been for Dean to single-handedly smash their faces with a chair leg. No, this is not a power fantasy: Dean has fought monsters for well in excess of a decade at this point, and yokels should be no match for him. Unfortunately, the plot needed to do what the plot needed to do, so alas, Dean. Better luck next time, buddy.

And speaking of the house, the sheriff not warning Dean about Missy was a silly oversight which could have got them all killed. Everybody is stupid in this episode. However, Sam’s attempted put-down to Dean in the final scene was annoying: ‘you got overpowered by a little girl’. Dean would never have been in that situation where it took a teenager almost gutting him, two men attacking his front, and a shovel to the back of the head to subdue him if Sam had managed to keep himself from being bested by inbred yokels in the first place. To riff on Paula R. Stiles’ words, I do not know what kind of bad-ass put down that was supposed to be, Sam, but have a little self-awareness next time.

But this script reduced everybody’s IQ to the level of your average inbred yokel anyway, so whatever. And do you remember, Dear Viewer, the note I made about damage to the head in 1x11 Scarecrow? A blow to the head strong enough to cause unconsciousness is strong enough to kill or cause serious brain damage. The sheriff and Dean should both either be dead or in wheelchairs at this point.

The Cannibal family also displayed about as much IQ as a cabbage in this episode. What on Earth did they possibly think would happen to them after they kidnapped a policewoman? The fact she was at their doorstep alone should have been warning enough that they were in danger, and kidnapping her would only have ensured their arrest and possible death. Not only that, but Dean was a force to be reckoned with, and only a surprise attack managed to put him out of action. They were hopelessly outclassed by him alone, and if they were wise they would have killed him as soon as he was unconscious, rather than – pun intended – grilling him for information about ‘whether the police were onto them’. My guys, my dudes, my mens, you are all absolute spoons. Even if they were not cannibalistic and probably incestuous murderers, that utter idiocy alone makes them worthy of nothing but a Dean-induced death.

Furthermore, why in the Hell did Idiot Brother #1 feel it necessary to open Sam’s cage in order to kill him, rather than simply perforate him with bullets from the outside? And why did the sheriff not stab Idiot Brother #2 in the back or – ironically – deck him with a shovel rather than jumping out of the hay loft and not accomplishing much?

I have so many questions, but moving on…

Having pointed out Sam’s idiocy in letting himself get jumped by yokels in a car park in the middle of town, it would be remiss of me not to point out that he was the brother doing the research in the bar. Dean is light years away from being stupid, but book research is more Sam’s strength, honed by his time at university. Dean very likely has ADHD, and one trait of this can be difficulty taking in written information, so it makes sense Sam would be the one of the two to take the lion’s share of book research. Nothing comes from the research, however, and Sam’s suggestions were rather random.

An unfortunate side effect of this is that Sam’s association with books, research, and lore have made a large section of casual viewers label him as the smart one and Dean as the dumb one. In 1x16 Shadow, even Sam strongly suggests he thinks Dean is an idiot (in a way which cannot be construed as a ‘sibling joke’) after Dean manages to find an important lead doing research on his own. This same attitude pervades the entire show and its characters’ perceptions of Dean and Sam. Dean is the big, muscly, masculine one who rarely talks about his feelings or shows obvious sensitivity, so he is the stupid one. Sam, however, reads books, has floppy hair, and talks about emotions, so he is more intelligent and developed. This is a stereotypical masculine/feminine dynamic where the stereotypically masculine is portrayed and perceived as unintelligent and undeveloped in comparison to the less stereotypically masculine. I will have a lot more to say about this in my discussion of 2x02 Everybody Loves a Clown.

One more interesting thing this scene does (as Paula R. Stiles points out) is show some of the differences between Dean and Sam’s relationship with the otherworld they live in as well as make the otherworld more credible for the viewers.

Dean knows the otherworld, and is portrayed as belonging more to the otherworld than the normal world (an apt metaphor for neurodivergence and trauma if ever there were one). Having spent his entire life minus 4 years in the otherworld of monsters, ghosts, and demons, it is as familiar to him as the real world is to us. We know, for example, that wendigo and stallo do not exist in the same way Dean knows certain creatures are just myths and folk tales. This makes it real to the viewer because it has rules and limitations. Sam is the viewer’s stand-in in this dichotomy, unfamiliar with exactly what is real and what is fiction. Dean’s knowledge provides boundaries and guidelines in the same way our knowledge of what is real and what’s not in our world does for us.

Regarding Dean, he is portrayed as being socially awkward (a point in favour of autism), yet when engaged on a subject which is important to him, conversation flows perfectly naturally. When posing as a sheriff at the beginning (wee little hat and everything), he used his knowledge of monster films to build a rapport with the little boy, which is an important skill to have when interviewing and facing people in general.

So imagine my chagrin at Sam’s pissy attitude. I neglected to discuss it in my analysis of 1x14 Nightmare, but this same attitude was apparent at the wake when Dean and Sam posed as priests. Dean wasted little time stepping into the role of priest, talking comfortably with Zelda as a priest would, only for Sam (who had not made any effort to do his job) to ‘ask’ do you wanna dial it back?. Moments later at the coffee table, Dean helps himself to a cocktail sausage which was placed there for people to eat, only to be met with a pissy bitch stare of death from Sam. The microexpressions on Dean’s face in the following seconds told volumes: going from relaxed to suddenly self-aware and uncomfortable, to exhausted and resigned. That was more than a ‘sibling joke’, and you cannot tell me my eyes did not see what my eyes saw. That was the look of a man who was worn down and tired of someone’s treatment of him.

Returning to the current episode, 1x15 The Benders, Sam shows similar poisonous, controlling behaviour at the very beginning, destroying the rapport Dean had with the boy. Admittedly, this is only two instances of one kind of behaviour, but in the context of everything else I have written about their brotherhood over the course of these 15 reviews, I hope all 7 of my readers can see a pattern forming.

Returning to the bar scene, I am left wondering at exactly whom Dean winked. He appeared to be looking in the direction of the actual bar, but the women there were not shown to be looking anywhere like in his direction. It is also interesting that the sign Men’s above the toilet doorwas clearly shown above his head at several points in this scene. What was that about?

One thing I am yet to mention as I draw this analysis to a close is the striking juxtaposition of the family in this episode with the abusive Miller family in 1x14 Nightmare. The Millers were a mirror for the Winchesters, and it is tempting to draw metaphorical parallels between the Cannibals and Winchesters. The Cannibals are a family who has been living on the fringes of society for generations, and are irrevocably damaged by this history. The head of the family was once a victim of his own history, and passed this down to his own children, who doubtless would have done the same to their own offspring if things had continued as before. It is easy to see a mirror of John, Dean, and Sam here, though the generational trauma aspect fits better with Mary’s side of the family, the Campbells.

John grew up without his father Henry, but that loss in itself impacted the family in detrimental ways which they never recovered from. Far be it from me to speculate as an armchair psychologist, but John’s lack of experience of having a father to guide him to manhood – or indeed adulthood generally – meant he was ill-equipped to raise his own boys. Had Mary survived, there might well still have been negative consequences of this loss on the family if John did not know how to have a father-son relationship or how to express or feel paternal love for his sons. The effect this would have had on his boys would have been profound, their own kind of generational trauma.

Some quick comments before I finish: Jensen’s acting, Dear Reader; Dear Reader, Jensen’s acting! I am thrilled for 2005!Jensen actually getting a role with real depth, because his acting ability shines here in a way it simply did not get to in Days of Our Lives, Dawson’s Creek, or Smallville. Focusing on one scene, the despair, shock, rage, and sadness expressed in just a few seconds after he believed Idiot Brother #1 killed Sam were on point.

A short review this time for an episode which leaves me cool. Not the worst episode of the show, and a good country mile better than anything Smallville had to offer, but it simply was not my cup of tea. It did nothing to progress the plot in any way, nor did it carry over any of the suspense or plot points raised in 1x14 Nightmare. Not a single mention of Sam’s visions or telekinesis was made, and to be honest I forgot that stuff while watching this episode because it feels so disconnected from the narrative.

Next episode sees the return of two important characters, however briefly, and sets the plot slowly but surely on track for the last seven episode of the first series.

#edvard's supernatural rewatch #spn rewatch #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #jensen ackles #bi!dean #Aspie!Dean #SPN 1x15 The Benders #spn 1x15

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hatchetation · 3 years ago

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I’m glad that the Cara gate happened early in whatever they have 🤣 because Kate has a chance to work on it

But… if the same thing happened much later on I think it would be unforgivable? Especially if in a longer period of time Kate kept talking to Cara.

Although Kate and Lucy were on and off. So when they were not official (not that now they are official but…) or more casual does it count as a period of time where Kate was cheating on Cara?

But if we think about it she had a lot of time to talk about Cara, and when things were getting serious she should have mentioned it

I'm glad it happened early on too, anon!! Cuz first of all, it does seem like they hadn't defined anything which means that Kate wasn't /technically/ out of bounds with the Cara thing (although if we're dealing with technicalities it's obviously not great lol). If they had actually been gf and gf...that would’ve been majorly fucked up. I agree she def should have mentioned the Cara stuff to Lucy once it seemed clear that things were a little more serious. After all, in 1x10 Kate was even the one ramping up the seriousness. Can you believe that I genuinely thought they'd officially become girlfriends in 1x11?? Never been so sad to be wrong in my LIFE 😭😭😭

Anyway Kate bby pls become a better communicator <3

#also i just want ppl to know that when it comes to these two i do not have teams #and i love them #and i think they've both made mistakes #some worse than others lmao #and i want them to work on their shit and then make up!!#and then have hot hot make up sex 😇#kacy #lucy tara #kate whistler #lucy x kate #ncis hawaii #whistara

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princeescaluswords · 4 years ago

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What are your favourite moments in Teen Wolf?

You don’t ask simple questions do you? I could only narrow it down to one scene from each season. Rather than one huge post, I decided to split it into two:

FAVORITE SCENES: PART 1

Season 1: “Let me be as clear as possible. We. Are. Closed.”

I love this scene in Formality (1x11) not only because I think Deaton is an amazing character who was criminally underutilized in later seasons; I think scenes that should have been his were given to Stiles, Derek, Peter, and Chris Argent (I don’t have to wonder what they have in common). Much more importantly, this is one of the few scenes in the show where someone protects Scott for no other reason but to protect Scott. Deaton has no agenda here. There isn’t a secret plan from which he will benefit later. There’s a terrified teenage boy in the back room, and he’s going to defend him from someone he has to recognize is a significant threat. That’s it. That’s all.

Extremist fandom tries to twist the fact that Deaton’s focus was on Scott into some sinister agenda, because they can’t believe someone wouldn’t want to help Derek with his self-destructive manpain, Peter with his blood-soaked killing spree, or Stiles with his tedious insecurity. Deaton liked Scott and wanted to help Scott within the bounds he set for himself while respecting the boundaries set by others. Deaton may have believed that Scott had the potential to be a True Alpha, but he never pushed him in that direction. It was refreshing, especially since everyone else always helped with one yet toward their own benefit, and yes, I include Stiles living vicariously through Scott and Melissa pushing her own son to get himself killed so she can be comfortable with a werewolf for a son.

Season 2: “I don’t want to be like them. I want to be like you.”

I love this scene in Ice Pick (2x03) because Boyd is the first person to recognize and state, without hesitation, that Scott is someone to be admired. Peter and Derek have scorned Scott’s insistence on valuing the lives of others; Jackson and Gerard never understood it; and Stiles made fun of it. But Boyd watched Scott come here to warn him about taking the Bite, watched Scott refuse to flee when Derek warned him off, watch Scott fight Erica and Isaac to protect a person he had barely talked to before, and watch Scott getting his ass whupped by a sadistic Derek in a show of force. Boyd had already been Bitten, so the violence that Derek initiated was simply to show Scott his place. Boyd witnessed Scott’s conviction, his compassion, and his courage.

Extremist fandom tries to argue that Boyd would resent Scott falling to Gerard’s extortion and pretending to work with the elder Argent in order to trick him, but it’s hard for me to see that. Scott tried in this scene, in Abomination (2x04), in Venomous (2x05) to work with Derek What other options did he have at that point? Boyd didn’t get captured by the Argents or by the Alpha Pack because Scott worked with Gerard. Boyd got captured because Derek was an incompetent flop as an alpha. At least Scott had a plan to defeat his enemies, both Derek and Gerard.

Season 3A: “ Okay. How do we approach a situation like this? Allison!”

I love this scene in Frayed (3x05) because it is the crisis point in Allison’s life. Here is where she begins to reclaim her legacy, her family legacy, the Argent legacy, back from madness, bigotry, and murder. Here is where the Code begins to change because she begins to change it. She is trying to save Scott’s life and she can’t thread the damn needle. There’s too much going on. There’s too many conflicting emotions -- her mother’s death, her love for Scott, her fear of powerlessness, of helplessness -- but she perseveres. She takes the lessons that she learned without knowing she was learning and she used them to save someone else.

Some people reject Victoria’s attitude, even if it is a memory of Victoria, as emotionally aggressive, but I think it had to be. Allison’s isn’t calling upon only the good parts of her relationship with her family to help others; she has to draw on the darker parts as well. This is a theme of Teen Wolf, from ‘regression to the mean’ to ‘you can find the clues that I can’t’ -- you can’t separate life into neat little piles of good and bad and take only the ones you want. For Allison to draw on her family’s legacy for strength, she has to take all of it and struggle to keep the darker parts from overwhelming her.

Season 3B: “Okay, then scream. Lydia, scream.”

I love this scene in Galvanize (3x15) for the same reasons I love the scene I just talked about, only this time the people grappling with their own abilities are Lydia and Stiles. Lydia can sense the approach of death and disaster, and she can access it through her scream, the traditional signifier of female emotional weakness, only now it is transformed into the key to her power. No one wants to hear people dying, but if she embraces it, if she makes it part of herself, she can do this. And all Stiles wants is to be make Lydia happy, to be a part of her life. He can see the clue in what she says -- that it’s on the tip of her tongue and makes her want to scream -- and he understands what he’s asking her to do. But he sees the connection, he knows what she wants, and he helps her move toward it. It’s what he does; he connects the dots.

Scott’s in the background in this scene as well, and that’s important. He’s stated that they need to find Kira, but he doesn’t demand. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t manage them. He has faith in Lydia and Stiles, and so he waits in the background for them to do what they need to do. That’s how the McCall Pack works and why it’s better than the Hale Pack. Scott doesn’t order people around and determine their actions for them. he believes in them.

You’ll notice that none of these scenes are about shipping. I recognize the different types of relationship on the show, but I was never truly focused on them. Friends got me interested in exploring the relationships, but I was far more interested in Teen Wolf as a bildungsroman, where teenagers have to face that becoming an adult is difficult and it requires grappling with the darker aspects of your own (and other’s) nature.

PART TWO.

#teen wolf #teen wolf meta #scott mccall #scott mccall defense squad #alan deaton #vernon boyd #allison argent #lydia martin #stiles stilinski #Anonymous

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mischas · 3 years ago

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at what point in s2 do you think ryan falls back in love with marissa?

Ooh that’s a good question. I think he’s undoubtedly into her in 2x16 which carried on from 2x15 but actually back in love? I think it’s the really quick scene in 2x19 when he comes to her room to apologize for yelling at her earlier about Trey and the way she lets it go with simple understanding. He knows Marissa gets how complicated his relationship is with his brother without telling her exactly why. She’s pieced it together in the past along with info she got in 1x11 and whatever he’s told her before off-screen. It’s instinctual, how much she understands and empathizes. That’s who he first fell in love with and it’s so easy for him to see her like that again when the writing lets her be that kind and selfless person. She overstepped her bounds and knows that but it wasn’t right for him to yell at her for it so they kind of forgive each other in that moment and call it even. It’s a small scene but has a lot of subtext!

#ask #anonymous #2x19 #now i have to gif it don’t i #i don’t think i’ve seen it giffed before #it’ll have to be tonight or tomorrow tho #as for when marissa fell back in love… idk #you can argue she always was #but i’ll put out there that it’s maybe the almost kiss scene in the same ep #or at the end of 2x18 when he puts his jacket around her shoulders #they were both about to risk it all #late s2 discourse

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cloysterbell · 4 years ago

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Loeb, this is your last chance to cooperate. Or what, you’ll torture me?

Fringe 1x11 - “Bound”

#fringe #fringefox #fringeedit #mine:photoset #cbfringe100 #olivia dunham says fuck the patriarchy #and fuck loeb that dude sucked #i think this and ability are my favorite eps of the season #uh but also if anyone needs me to tag this with any warnings let me know

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tw-anchor · 5 years ago

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11. Formally Screwed

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character (Reader)

Episode: 1x11; Formality

Word Count: 5,516

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence, blood

Author’s Note: Shit’s about to go down, is all I can say. Well, we finally got a confession out of Stiles and Peter bit Lydia. And, for some reason, Olivia knew that Lydia was in trouble. Wonder what that means? Reblog and like!

Masterlink in Profile Description!

Olivia stood impatiently outside of Scott's house, ringing the doorbell for the third time in a minute. She rubbed her right side again, trying to stop the tingling that had been there since she woke up, and sighed heavily, annoyed with how long Scott was taking to answer his door.

At last, the door opened, revealing a bewildered and annoyed Scott McCall.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, walking past him into the house. "How are you? Are you okay? Are you all healed up? Thank God you answered the door, it was taking forever."

"Olivia, what are you doing here?" Scott asked, confused. He didn't remember inviting her over to his house...

"Oh," Olivia blinked. "Well, Stiles called to tell me that my dad went on a date with your mom and then he said that you were shot trying to rescue Jackson from Derek, which—by the way—I don't think he was going to kill him," she shook her head. "Jackson's a dick but not to the point where Derek would kill him. So, I wanted to see how you were doing and I also have a bad feeling."

Scott just stared at her, trying to absorb everything that she said. He had never seen Olivia Martin ramble before and he was pretty sure that she didn't take a breath throughout the whole thing.

And she was worried...about him?

"Scott?"

"Right, okay," Scott nodded. "I'm okay, Deaton helped me out."

"Dr. Deaton?" Olivia furrowed her eyebrows. "As in your boss who you guys thought was the alpha for a minute?"

"Yes, that one," Scott confirmed, turning toward his staircase. "Come on up."

"Okay..."

"So, yeah, apparently Deaton knows about werewolves," he explained further as they walked up the stairs. "He didn't really say anything else, but when Peter came to the vet, he was complaining about the fact that he couldn't get in."

"Hmm," Olivia hummed. "Did my dad say anything else?"

"He's threatening to go to Allison," Scott told her, leading her to his room. As they walked in, Olivia waved at Stiles, who flailed spastically at the sight of her. "Oh, by the way, Derek's missing..."

"I know."

"You know?

"Yeah," Olivia nodded. "I already had a freak-out and now I'm ready to find him."

At first, when Stiles told Olivia about Derek being missing, she was frantic. Her anxiety, which she usually had a handle on and pushed deep down so she wouldn't have to think about it, flared and she shed a few tears, but she steeled herself. If she was in Derek's position, he would do anything to find her. Olivia would do the same to him.

"I'll help you," Scott declared. "I just have to find my phone..."

Olivia and Scott spent the next half-hour turning his room inside-out to try to find his phone. So far, they had no luck, and the fact that Stiles was sitting in Scott's desk chair just watching them was getting on Olivia's nerves.

"Are you going to help?" she snapped at him as she ducked out from under Scott's bed.

"I am helping," Stiles stated, holding up his phone. "I've been calling Scott."

"Yeah, that's really helpful, Stiles," she snarked at him. "I'm so glad you're here. We wouldn't be able to do it without you."

"I'll just ignore that 'cause I know you get cranky when you're worried about someone," Stiles said, taking the higher road by not bickering with her.

"Call again," Scott told Stiles as he threw one of his shirts out of his closet that he was digging through.

Stiles sighed heavily and watched as Olivia walked over to Scott's desk to search there. "It's not here," he said flatly; Scott ran from his closet to look through his blanket. "Okay, so you lost your phone. Why don't you just get a new one?"

"I can't afford a new one," Scott dropped to his stomach to look under the other side of the bed that Olivia hadn't checked. "And I can't do this alone. We have to find Derek."

Scott jumped back to his feet and walked into his attached bathroom; Olivia finished searching his desk and went over to his dresser.

"Well, you're not alone. You have us," Stiles pointed out, gesturing between him and Olivia. "And didn't you say Derek walked into gunfire? He sounds pretty dead—ow!"

He rubbed his head where Olivia threw a stress ball at him and glared at the petite brunette.

"Don't talk like that," she scolded him with a fierce glare.

"Argent's plan was to use him to get to the alpha," Scott added, still in the bathroom. "they're not gonna kill him."

"All right, so then just let them do what they're planning, you know?" Stiles shrugged. "They use Derek to get Peter, problem solved—ow, would you stop throwing shit at me?"

Olivia, who had thrown a notebook at him this time, pursed her lips at him, still glaring.

"The problem isn't solved if Peter's going after Allison to find Derek," Scott walked out of the bathroom. "I can't protect her on my own, which means we either find Derek first or—just help me!"

Stiles caught the foam basketball that Scott threw at him and dropped it on the floor.

"You know, you probably lost it when you two were fighting," Stiles guessed. "You remember that?" he reminded Scott. "When he was trying to kill you after you interrupted him trying to kill Jackson? Are you starting to see a pattern of violent behavior here?"

"He wasn't going to kill anyone," Olivia spoke up, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat at the end of Scott's bed.

"And I'm not letting him die," Scott added, sitting in his armchair by the window.

Stiles sighed. "Could you at least think about letting him die for me?"

"Stiles!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Stiles told Olivia, shrinking under the heat of her eyes.

Scott turned toward his window, looking to his front yard to see his mom pull up.

"What?" Stiles asked him curiously.

"My mom just got home from work," Scott told him, listening to the voicemail that Melissa was recording for Peter. He sighed sadly when he heard her start to sob into her hand.

"Is she okay?" Olivia asked, giving him a concerned look. "What's she doing?"

Scott frowned, leaning his forearms on his knees. "Crying."

Stiles gave him a sad smile. "Scott, you can't protect everyone."

Scott shook his head in disagreement, remembering the speech Stiles gave him that day in detention. "I have to."

The next day, Stiles hovered near his locker in the locker room, watching as Scott and Coach had a private, yet very loud, conversation in front of his office. Scott was so upset when Coach told him he couldn't go to the winter formal that he started yelling and waving his hands around.

"What do you mean I can't go to the formal?"

Coach rolled his eyes. "McCall, you're failing my class and two others," he explained. "They told me to cut you from the team but I told them I'd sooner cut off my last remaining testicle than cut my best player."

Stiles grimaced; Coach talked about his one remaining testicle way too often.

"So the compromise is that I can't go to the dance?" Scott asked in disbelief.

"Yeah."

Scott narrowed his eyes. "Then I quit the team."

Coach laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. "No, you don't. And, if you show up to the dance and I see you there, I'm gonna drag you out by your teeth."

Stiles, having heard the whole conversation, walked up to his best friend as Coach went in his office. "So, what are you gonna do?" he asked quietly. "I can protect her, I guess. I can probably borrow a gun from my dad without him noticing."

"No."

"Yeah, you're right," Stiles agreed absentmindedly. "I probably shouldn't have a gun."

"No—I mean, yes, you shouldn't have a gun, but I meant that I have another plan," Scott said, looking over at Jackson, who was minding his own business by his locker. "Two words: Jackson and Allison."

"Well, that's actually three words. And you know he's not gonna—" Stiles said Scott as he walked away. "And you're walking away. Okay, I'm coming."

He bounded up to Scott's side and slammed Jackson's locker shut, gaining his attention.

"I need you to take Allison to formal," Scott demanded right away.

Jackson blinked at Scott like he was out of his mind. "You," he gestured to Scott and then to himself. "want me to take her to the formal."

"I don't want you to," Scott corrected him. "I need you to."

Jackson scoffed. "Fuck you," he looked at Stiles and added, "You know what, fuck you too. In fact, fuck each other."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Hey, you know he saved your life, right?"

"He left me for dead."

Scott looked at him, appalled by his nerve. "I got shot for you."

"Yeah?" Jackson raised an eyebrow at him. "Show me the bullet wound."

Scott pressed his lips together. "You know it healed."

"Convenient," Jackson hummed sarcastically.

"Just do it for Allison, okay?" Scott tried to convince him. "She's in serious danger. I'm talking around-the-clock danger. She needs someone to keep an eye on her at the dance."

"Have her dad do it," Jackson suggested. "He's the one actually equipped to handle this."

"How am I supposed to do that and keep him from finding out about me?" Scott asked incredulously.

"Not my problem."

Jackson went to leave but Scott stopped him by slamming a hand against his locker to block the way.

"You're her friend, too," Scott reminded him; Jackson rolled his eyes. "You are. All that time that you spent with her to get to me, you can't tell me that you didn't get to know her and like her. It's Allison—it's impossible not to like her. You can't tell me that you don't care if she gets hurt."

Jackson furrowed his eyebrows. "What if I get hurt?"

Scott straightened up. "Then it's worth it."

Jackson narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Not to me."

He pushed Scott out of the way and shoved Stiles into the locker to get through them.

"Well, I shouldn't say I told you so—" Stiles said as he and Scott watched Jackson walk further away. "—cause it's not strong enough. How about I'm always right and you should listen to whatever I have to say and never disagree ever for the sake of your wolflihood?"

"I'm not done," Scott declared, making his way over to Jackson once again.

Stiles sighed. "You're not done. Okay—oh, my God!" he exclaimed as Scott shoved Jackson against the locker room door, showing off his golden eyes and sharp fangs as he growled in his face. "Oh, look, he's scared."

Scott had, indeed, scared Jackson into agreeing to take Allison to the winter formal. He was a mess of nerves, sweating up a storm, as he approached Allison at her locker while Scott and Stiles watched from a few feet away.

Jackson leaned against the locker next to Allison's, giving her a fake and clearly nervous smile.

"Hey, don't worry," Stiles clapped Scott on the shoulder. "I'll still be there."

Scott shook his head, watching as Allison and Jackson walked away from her locker. "I'm still going."

"Is that such a good idea?" Stiles asked as Scott turned to face him. "Do you even have a date?"

"Not yet."

"Do you have a suit?"

"Not yet."

"Do you have a ticket to the formal?" Stiles questioned him. "A ride there?"

"No and no."

Stiles sighed. "So, you're gonna ride your bike to a dance that you're not even allowed to go to, without a date, a suit, or a way in," he listed, amused. "with werewolves and werewolf hunters all out to kick your little werewolf ass."

"Yeah," Scott smiled. "You gonna help me?"

Stiles grinned. "Fuck yeah."

"Nothing's wrong," Allison insisted as she, Olivia, and Lydia stepped onto the escalator heading up to Macy's second level. "I just—I have a lot on my mind."

Olivia frowned at her, concerned. "Well, are you okay?"

Allison looked at her and Olivia thought that the taller brunette was somewhat hesitant with her. She hadn't been wildly enthusiastic when Olivia and Lydia reminded her that they were going shopping for their formal dresses after school, and from the distance Allison gave her, she assumed it was because of her.

Finally, Allison smiled. "No, I think I'm fine."

"You could smile at least," Lydia commented. "Ever hear the saying, 'Never frown, someone could be falling in love with your smile?' Smile, Allison," she grinned. "I'm buying you a dress."

"I have to admit, as far as apologies go, that's more than I expected," Allison told her before turning to Olivia. "Now it's your turn, Liv."

Olivia gave her a confused look as the three of them stepped off the escalator. "For what?"

"I'm asking you for a favor," Allison declared. "And, since my ex-boyfriend kissed you too..."

"I didn't ask him to but I guess I can do you a favor," Olivia conceded. "What is it?"

"Perfect," Allison smiled. "I need you to cancel on whatever dumb, roided-up jock Lydia set you up with and go with someone else to the dance."

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "And who is this person you're speaking about?"

Allison simply turned, looking in the direction of the perfume counter. Olivia followed her gaze, narrowing her eyes when she saw Stiles sniffing various perfumes. She fought back a smile when he accidentally sprayed one right in his face, causing him to sneeze heavily.

"You want me to go to formal with Stiles?" Olivia asked, looking back at Allison.

Allison grinned and even Lydia looked amused. "Like Lydia said—don't frown, Liv, someone could be falling in love with your smile."

As she and Lydia broke into giggles, Olivia sent them a light-hearted glare before walking over to Stiles.

It wasn't that Olivia didn't want to go to formal with Stiles because as far as dates went, she knew he'd be a good one. It's just that she felt weird around Stiles sometimes; her stomach would flip and flop whenever he smiled at her and she actually enjoyed his company—which was weird for her, since she only had Scott, Jackson, and Danny as guy friends and she barely tolerated hanging out with them too much.

"So," she said as she approached Stiles, gaining his attention. "I heard we're going to the dance together."

"Um, yeah," Stiles scratched the back of his neck. "Unless you don't want to. I mean, it'd be cool and I really wanna go with you but if you don't want to go with me, that's cool, too. No pressure or anything. I—"

"Stiles!" Olivia interrupted his rambling. "It's fine. I will go to the dance with you."

"Really?" Stiles' eyes widened in happiness. "Great!"

"Yeah..."

"Yep..."

"Oh, this just turned painfully awkward," Olivia and Stiles turned to see Lydia staring at them, her arms crossed over her chest. "Stiles, right?"

Olivia raised her eyebrows at Lydia, shocked that she got his name right. She had always insisted on calling Stiles by the wrong name to assert dominance over him.

"Uh, yeah."

"You can carry the dresses we want to try on," Lydia declared, pointing at him. "Come on, we're wasting time."

Olivia and Stiles followed Lydia into the dress section; Stiles was immediately bombarded with two dresses.

"Liv, what do you think about this one?" Lydia asked, holding up a dress in a dusty-rose color.

Olivia smiled. "I like it."

Lydia placed it in Stiles' arms and continued on her way. Olivia shook her head, giving Stiles an amused look and started looking around the racks. She pulled a green dress and a purple dress before she saw a white one that caught her eye.

She got one in her size and laid it on top of the growing pile in Stiles' arms.

"So are you guys gonna try these on right now?" Stiles asked casually. "All of them? Because I don't think this is a twenty-four-hour Macy's."

Olivia laughed and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, Stiles."

"All right. I'm not worried about it. No worries here."

"You're sure you don't mind that I catch a ride with you and Stiles?" Lydia asked Olivia, zipping up the brunette's dress. "What's-his-name said he'd meet me at the school."

"It's fine, Lyds," Olivia assured her. "You're my family and my very best friend, I wouldn't want to go without you."

Lydia beamed at her and then gave her a knowing look. "And you're nervous to be alone with Stiles."

"What?" Olivia laughed. "I'm not nervous. What makes you say that?"

"You've been chewing on your cheek," Lydia pointed out, walking over to the sink in Olivia's bathroom to check her lipstick. "You do that when you want to hide what you're feeling. I'm assuming that you're nervous."

Olivia had to admit that Lydia was right about her anxiety but it didn't have to do with Stiles. They were friends, she was comfortable with him. She was nervous about what Peter was planning to do at the dance.

She wasn't going to admit that to Lydia, though, so she lied, "Yeah, okay, you caught me."

"I knew it!" Lydia handed her some red lipstick to put on. "I always catch you staring at him."

Olivia, who had been leaning toward the mirror to put on the lip color, spluttered. "I don't stare at him."

Lydia scoffed. "Yeah, you do and if you're not staring at him, he's staring at you," she hummed thoughtfully. "Actually, he's been staring at you for a while."

Olivia shook her head in denial; she didn't stare at Stiles. Lydia only thought she did because she was just making sure that Scott was okay at school. Where Scott was, Stiles was, so...

Olivia certainly did not look at Stiles too much; she only knew that the moles on his cheeks could have made out a constellation that looked like the Little Dipper and that his nose was tilted slightly up at the end. Or that his upper lip was slightly fuller than the bottom or his eyes looked like butterscotch and whiskey mixed together.

She didn't stare at Stiles.

"Whatever," she mumbled, going back to her task of applying lipstick.

Once both girls were ready, they took a cute selfie together to post to Snapchat. The picture showed off their dresses—Olivia's was white with silver gems on the shoulders and Lydia's was dusty-rose with a black sash—and their hair and make-up.

As soon as they slipped on their heels, they went downstairs where Natalie was waiting for them.

Except it wasn't just Natalie waiting for them; Stiles stood next to her, his mouth wide when he saw Olivia come downstairs.

He thought she looked like an angel and he was actually worried that he had died for a few seconds. She looked hot, sexy, pretty, and cute all at once—he was so lucky to be alive at the same time as her.

Someone out there in the universe was looking out for him because he just couldn't believe that he was going to formal with Olivia Martin.

Olivia smiled when she saw Stiles standing next to her aunt. He looked very handsome in his gray suit, black-and-white checkered shirt, and a silver striped tie. Olivia didn't want to admit it, but he was actually drool-worthy.

"You look beautiful," Stiles breathed when she stopped in front of him. "L-Like stunning."

"Thank you," Olivia flushed and reached up, straightening his tie. She vaguely heard a camera shutter but opted to ignore it. "You look great. I'm liking the pattern-on-pattern action you have going on."

"Thanks," Stiles mumbled, looking down at his tie. "My dad helped me."

Olivia laughed and Stiles beamed at her.

"Okay, pictures!" Natalie announced with a grin, breaking up their moment. "Let's get some in front of the fireplace."

Olivia, Stiles, and Lydia took many pictures at the insistence of Natalie. There were some with just Olivia and Stiles, Olivia by herself, Lydia by herself, Olivia and Lydia, Olivia, Lydia, and Natalie, and Olivia, Lydia, and Stiles. Sirius even got in a few pictures where the girls were careful that his nails didn't rip the fabric of their dresses.

Once Natalie was sure that her camera roll was full, they were allowed to leave.

"Thanks for letting Lydia come along," Olivia said as Stiles drove to school.

"Yeah, thanks," Lydia added politely, though she would have driven herself if Olivia hadn't insisted on her going with them.

"No problem," Stiles nodded. "Who's your date anyway?"

"Some senior named Charlie," Lydia shrugged.

"Jackson doesn't like Charlie because he was named swim captain instead of him," Olivia informed Stiles.

"Ah," Stiles said understandingly.

The school had stars reflected on it as they pulled into the parking lot and students in dresses and suits walked up the sidewalk to the gym entrance. Stiles parked near the front of the lot and parked, quickly turning off the Jeep.

He was out of his seat and within five seconds, opening Olivia's door for her.

"Thanks," Olivia said gratefully as she stepped out, straightening out the skirt of her dress.

Lydia climbed out behind her and sighed, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. She looked up and smiled when she saw Jackson and Allison walking toward them.

"Jackson," she greeted her ex-boyfriend as Olivia and Allison exchanged waves and smile. "You look handsome."

"Obviously," Jackson smirked arrogantly. "It's Hugo Boss."

He walked away—Allison reluctantly following him—without giving Lydia any compliments back.

Lydia watched him go. "I don't care," she declared, turning back to Olivia and Stiles. "I don't want compliments. I will not fall prey to society's desire to turn girls into emotion, insecure neurotics who pull up their dresses at the first flattering remark."

"Well, I think you look beautiful," Charlie, the senior swim captain, spoke up, walking over to them.

Lydia rolled her eyes and started walking toward the gym. "Let's just go."

Olivia chuckled as Charlie gave Lydia a wide-eyed look and scurried after her into the school. Stiles offered her his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her into the dance.

Twenty minutes into the dance, Lydia had abandoned Charlie and had joined Olivia and Stiles at their table. They hadn't danced yet but Olivia was fine with that—the most she danced was with Lydia in one of their bedrooms when they were stressed and they followed Grey's Anatomy's advice to dance it out.

It was often that Olivia's dance moves made Lydia collapse with laughter.

The slow song they were currently listening to ended and the live band struck up another one, this time with a faster beat. Stiles tapped his foot with the beat and looked over at Olivia who was pointing Danny and his boyfriend out to Lydia.

"Hey," Stiles nudged her to get her attention. When her cobalt-blue eyes landed on him, he summoned his courage. "Do you wanna dance?"

Olivia grimaced at the dance floor. "Pass."

"You know what? Let me try that again," Stiles stood up and faced Olivia, leaning down so their eyes were level. "Livvy, get off your cute ass and dance with me now."

Olivia gaped at him for a few seconds, a little impressed with his show of dominance, but ultimately shook her head. "No, it's okay. I'm good."

Stiles sighed. "Olivia, get up. You're gonna dance with me," he demanded; Olivia pressed her lips together. "Look, I-I've had a crush on you since the second grade."

Olivia looked at him in shock; she had no idea that he was into her that way.

"You're a bitch sometimes and you can be way too blunt, but I know that you don't like to show emotion because you're afraid to be vulnerable and that's okay," he continued passionately. "because I've seen how caring you are to the people you love. I know that you're secretly a nerd who has more comic books than I've seen in one house. I know that you're one of the smartest people at our school and that one day, you're gonna go off and create the cure for cancer because you're so fucking brilliant."

Olivia flushed, her stomach doing that flippy thing it does sometimes in Stiles' presence. She couldn't believe that he knew so much about her—she guessed that there was more he knew, too, but he just didn't have the time to say it. It made her feel special and not like the girl who lost her family to a fire at the age of nine.

When it came down to it, Olivia felt guilty. She didn't know little things about Stiles, like what his favorite movie or book was, or his favorite food. She didn't know what he did in his free time—and he knew that about her.

But, she did want to know those things. She wanted to know who Stiles Stilinski was outside of spastic movements and sarcastic comments.

"There's already a cure for cancer," she mumbled finally, practically feeling Lydia's encouraging look on the back of her head.

Stiles straightened up in shock. "What?"

"I said there's already a cure for cancer," Olivia repeated herself, standing up and taking his hand. "but cancer makes a lot of money, so..."

Stiles blinked at her. "Wait, are you saying you believe—"

"I thought you wanted to dance?" Olivia asked playfully, pulling him out onto the dance floor.

Stiles laughed in celebration and raised his hand, twirling her underneath it.

"I'm a horrible dancer," she admitted loud enough so he could hear over the music.

"Me too!" Stiles exclaimed, putting his hand behind his head so he could do the sprinkler. "Just go with it. Who cares what people think."

Olivia smiled, deciding that he was right. She held her hands out in front of her and moved them around, doing the cabbage patch. She laughed when Stiles started doing the running man, impressed that he could actually pull it off.

"I saw this on New Girl, watch," Olivia said, putting her hands up by her face and forming them into beaks. She opened and shut them slowly before moving her arms to create wings. "It's the chicken dance, but you slow it down."

Stiles laughed loudly and copied her, both of them in sync. Olivia could see people watching them out of the corner of her eye, but she found she didn't care for once. It was a party and she was here with Stiles, who was a great guy. If she wanted to do the chicken dance, she was going to do the chicken dance.

"McCALL!"

Olivia flinched as Coach shouted when he passed them, pointing at Scott from across the gym. Scott ran down the bleachers and tried to disappear in the crowd but Coach followed his every move.

"Looks like Coach found Scott," Stiles commented as they both turned to watch the spectacle.

Olivia gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"He's not supposed to be here," Stiles told her. "He's on academic probation."

Olivia hummed and watched as Scott pulled Danny out onto the dance floor. Coach stomped up to them and started yelling; the band stopped playing and everyone turned to stare.

"McCall!" Coach yelled. "You're not supposed to—what the hell are do—what the hell are you doing?"

"Yes, Coach?" Scott asked innocently, pulling Danny closer to him.

Olivia snickered, impressed with Scott's improvisation.

Coach looked around, noticing the judgmental looks everyone was giving him. "Okay," he laughed. "Hold on, you—I was just saying he's not supposed to—I mean, I wasn't saying that he shouldn't—" he rambled nervously. "You guys don't think—You don't—I was—Just dance, everybody. Dance, it's a party!"

Coach walked away, still nervously laughing, and the music started up again. Everyone started dancing to the slower song while Olivia and Stiles awkwardly stared at each other, not really knowing what to do.

Finally, Stiles decided to take a chance; he slowly wrapped his hands around Olivia's waist, waiting for her to object. When she didn't, he pulled her closer to him and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

They swayed side-to-side and moved around in a circle, much like what the other students were doing.

"See, this isn't so bad," he murmured in her ear; goosebumps erupted on the skin of her neck and shoulders.

"No," she agreed, resting her forehead against his shoulder and breathing in his delightful scent. "it's not."

They danced for another song, enjoying being close to one another until Olivia pulled away. She had noticed that Lydia wasn't at their table anymore, and she was growing worried. She just had a bad feeling.

"Are you okay?" Stiles gave her a worried look, wondering why she pulled away.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I just—I need to find Lydia. She's not at the table and I'm worried."

"Okay, I understand," Stiles smiled. "Do you want me to come with?"

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek. "If you don't mind?"

"Of course not."

Stiles took her hand and led her off the dance floor, weaving in and out between couples dancing. They left the gym, intending to look in the bathrooms for Lydia when they ran into Jackson.

"Jackson, have you seen Lydia?" Olivia asked, taking in his appearance; his shirt was rumpled, his tie undone, his eyes red. "What happened to you?"

Jackson's lips wobbled and he gulped noisily.

Olivia frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I-I was out behind the school," he stammered. "and I-I w-was out—"

"What happened?" Stiles questioned him, a sinking feeling in his gut. "Jackson, what did you do?"

"I told Argent about Scott," Jackson blurted out. "I'm sorry but it's okay because he said that they wouldn't hurt him!"

"Jackson, the Argents are the ones who killed my mom!" Olivia raised her voice, unable to believe that Jackson would do something so stupid. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I-I didn't know, Liv."

"Wait," Stiles spoke up, getting her attention. "If the Argents are here..."

Olivia gasped in realization. "That means that my dad is too."

Tingling erupted in her left side and she winced at the borderline painful sensation. A brief flash of Lydia's face filled her mind and though she was confused, there was a sense of something foreboding blooming in her chest.

"Lydia!" she gasped and took off running.

Stiles started following her, wondering what the hell was going on. Why had she said Lydia's name so suddenly and take off? It didn't make any sense.

Stiles realized that they were heading to the lacrosse field before Olivia did; the stadium lights beamed on one-by-one, and they both sped up, fear making their hearts beat faster.

Olivia entered the stadium behind Stiles, who was a faster runner, and gasped when she saw Lydia in the middle of the field. A figure was walking toward her, a figure that Olivia very much recognized.

"LYDIA!" she screamed and broke into a sprint, her heels sinking into the grass. "RUN!"

Lydia turned at her cousin's voice and that allowed Peter to attack. He tackled her to the ground, piercing her right side with his claws, and then bit down on the left side of her waist. Lydia screamed loudly but by the time Olivia and Stiles dropped to the ground in front of her, she was unconscious.

"Don't kill her," Olivia begged, sobbing, as she looked at her father with hatred. "Please."

"Of course not, sweetie-pie," Peter reached out to cup her cheek, causing her to flinch and close her eyes tightly. "Just tell me how to find your cousin."

Stiles looked between Olivia and Peter. "What?"

"Tell me how to find Derek Hale," Peter repeated calmly.

"I-I don't know that," Stiles shook his head, trying to calm his quick heartbeat. "How the hell would I know that?"

"While you are clever, Stiles, you aren't the one I'm talking to," Peter drawled, looking back at his daughter. "Olivia, tell me what you know and I won't hurt sweet little Lydia. Tell me the truth or I'll rip her to pieces."

Olivia sobbed again, her chest heaving, and she opened her eyes. "I don't know for sure," she cried. "I swear, I don't know."

"TELL ME!"

Olivia flinched away. "Okay, okay," she conceded, her voice shaking. "I've been thinking about it and I think Derek took Scott's phone. He's smart—I think he knew he'd be caught."

"By the Argents?" Peter asked quietly.

"Yes."

"And?"

"I told you, I think he took Scott's phone!"

"Why?"

"They all have GPS now," Stiles spoke up, glowering at Peter. "So, if he still has it and if it's still on, you can find him."

(Gif is not mine)

#teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski x original character

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userlaylivia · 2 years ago

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@emmanelson, @clarkegriffins

#they didn't have as many episodes so I even put ones they didn't get a lot together lol #adam conant #diana meade #adam x diana #diadam #the secret circle #tsc #tumblr poll #polls #only 10 options so I chose the ones they didn't have much but also ones they did lol

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spn-safeandsound · 4 years ago

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07. Dynamic Duo

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x11; Scarecrow

Word Count: 9,028

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore

Author’s Note: Enjoy!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

Julia sat in the middle of a large field on an overcast day. It was filled with three different kinds of flowers—honeysuckle, marigold, and violets—all separated into different sections. The white, yellow, and purple flowers formed a circle around her. They reminded her of her mother.

Naomi Petersen had always been a fan of giving her daughters flowers for every holiday and birthday. There were even some days that flowers would randomly be delivered to Julia, Abby, and Beth without a reason other than for their mother to show her love. The three girls would make a game of it, looking up the meanings into the flowers Naomi sent them that day.

Honeysuckle meant bonds of love. Marigold meant despair or grief. Violets meant loyalty and faithfulness.

"Julia Ruth."

Julia looked away from the violets to her right and looked forward to where she heard the man's voice. There was no one in the field with her but the sun had started to shine. It didn't matter that there was no one there, though. She recognized the voice.

"It's you," she breathed, her lips quirking into a small smile. "It's been a long time."

Many times, while Julia was growing up, she'd have dreams like this. She wouldn't always be a field—a few times she had been in an empty classroom at Stanford or on a swing in an abandoned park—but they all had the same voice visiting her to give her guidance.

When she asked her mom about the dreams, Naomi had simply smiled and told her that he was her guardian angel.

"Eight months, five days, and thirty minutes," her angel answered.

The last time he had shown up, she was thinking about transferring to Northwestern to be closer to Beth and Levi. Her angel talked her out of it and she hadn't regretted that choice so far.

"What's wrong? You only show up when I need your guidance."

"Then you should know why I am here."

"Okay, so I need guidance," Julia assumed. "About what?"

"I cannot say much," her angel told her. "Just know that you will soon be facing some trials and tribulations, Julia Ruth."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean? What trouble am I facing?"

"Trouble that will test your faith."

Julia scoffed, more confused. She was a faithful person and it took a lot for that to waiver. Even when her mother was dying, she still had faith in God and his angels. Her mother had always told her that having faith wasn't always about the good and happy times but the tough times, too.

"That really cleared it up for me. Thanks."

"Stay true to your faith, Julia Ruth," her angel ordered. "We will meet again soon."

A ringing started blare around the field, making her look around in confusion. Where was that coming from?

The sunlight had started to fade and she stood up.

"Wait!" she called to her angel over the ringing. "Wait—"

Julia groaned as Dean's phone continued to ring, rolling off of her stomach to lay on her side facing Sam. The thing seemed so loud, like Dean had purposefully turned it on full volume just to annoy her.

The phone rang again.

"Phone!" she moaned, squeezing her eyes and burying her face in her pillow.

"Dean."

Julia opened her eyes, about to pick up the phone and whip it at Dean's peaceful face, when Sam wearily grabbed it off the table in between the beds. He flipped it open, his eyes still shut, and lazily pressed it to his ear.

"Hello?" there was a pause as whoever was calling Dean spoke; Sam sat up in shock, suddenly awake. "Dad? Are you hurt?"

Julia's eyes widened in surprise and she sat up as well, making sure her tank-top fully covered her breasts.

"We've been looking for you everywhere," Sam told his father, glancing over at a stirring Dean. "We didn't know where you were or if you were okay."

Julia studied Sam's face, taking in his eager expression. She was glad that John had called; it had been months—or in Sam's case, years—since the brothers heard from him. They had been so worried.

"Well, we're fine," Sam stated. "Dad, where are you?"

Dean sat up, fully awake, his blanket falling down to his hips to reveal his bare chest.

"What? Why not?" Sam questioned John.

"Is that Dad?" Dean asked Sam. Julia leaned around Sam so he could see her and nodded, silently answering his question. His face lit up.

Sam's face fell in realization at whatever John said. "You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom...A demon? You know for sure?"

Julia raised her eyebrows at Sam as Dean pulled on the shirt he discarded before falling asleep. So, it was a demon who killed Mary and Jess...she wondered how John figured that out.

"A demon?" Dean leaned forward anxiously. "What's he saying?"

"You know where it is?" Sam said into the phone. "Let us help...Why not?"

Dean reached toward Sam expectantly, irritated with his lack of answers. "Give me the phone."

"Names? What names, Dad?" Sam's face contorted in aggravation. "Talk to me, tell me what's going on?"

Julia bit her lip and clasped her hands together tightly as Sam stiffened, his anger growing as John continued speaking.

"No," he said firmly. "All right? No way."

"Give me the phone!" Dean raised his voice at him. When Sam angrily pursed his lips, looking like he was about to blow a gasket, Dean grabbed the phone away from him. "Dad, it's me. Where are you?"

Julia grabbed Sam's clenched fists as John answered Dean, rubbing her thumb against the back of one of them to calm him down. He always got so angry with his dad; it had been that way for most of his life.

"Yes, sir," Dean agreed to whatever John said, swallowing harshly; he reached for the pen on the nightstand. "Uh-huh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?"

"So, where are you now?" Julia's older sister, Abby, asked through the phone.

"Uh, hold on," Julia leaned forward to look at Dean, who was shockingly sitting in the passenger seat. "Dean, where are we headed again?"

"Some town in Indiana," Dean grumbled back absentmindedly, tapping on the keyboard of Sam's computer to continue his research into the names John had given him.

"We're on our way to Indiana," Julia reported back to her sister.

"Oh, yeah? For what?"

"We have no idea yet," she sighed. "What about you?"

"I'm in Point Pleasant, Virginia," Abby informed her.

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "Isn't that the town that obsessed with Mothman?"

Abby laughed. "You bet it is."

"What the hell are you doing there?"

"Hunting Mothman."

"No, you're not."

"I am."

"No, you're not, Abby. Be serious."

"I'm completely serious, Jules," Abby stated. "I saw it with my own two eyes."

Julia was silent for a few seconds and then, "Are you fucking kidding me?" she almost screeched. "You're legitimately hunting Mothman?"

That caught Dean's attention; he turned around with wide eyes. "Abby's hunting Mothman?"

Julia nodded. "She's hunting Mothman."

"How the fuck did she know that he's actually real?"

"Dean wants to know how you found out he's real," Julia told Abby.

"I went to Point Pleasant because I saw some reports about hearts being missing from some of the recent murders taking place," Abby explained. "I thought it was a werewolf but then I realized that the cycle isn't right."

"Uh-huh," Julia hummed and Dean gave her an expectant look; she held up her index finger. "Go on."

"So, I checked it out, anyway, just in case," Abby continued. "And apparently, one of the newest tours they're giving is telling their customers that Mothman eats hearts."

"Well, how would they know that?"

"They don't, that's my point," Abby said. "Someone messed around and created a Tulpa."

"What's a Tulpa?"

"It's a physical materialization of a thought," Dean told her at the same time as Abby, looking ecstatic. Even Sam stopped his bitch face for a few seconds to look impressed. "Wow, I can't believe she's hunting a Tulpa of Mothman. Tell her to take a picture."

"Dean wants you to take a picture," Julia told her sister, rolling her eyes at him.

Abby laughed. "I'll try my best."

"Be careful, okay?" Julia told her as Dean turned back around to focus on his research again. "Love you."

"You too," Abby echoed her affections. "Talk to ya later."

Julia hummed and hung up her phone, tossing it onto the seat next to her.

"Some people have all the luck," Dean muttered, completely dismayed that they were heading to Indiana instead of Virginia to kill Mothman.

"Well, it's not really Mothman if it's just a Tulpa," Sam pointed out.

"Whatever," Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam sighed. "All right," he changed the subject, his jaw clenched. "the names Dad gave us, they're all couples?"

Dean nodded. "Three different couples. All of them went missing."

"And they're all from different towns, different states?"

"That's right," Dean confirmed for him. "Washington, New York, Colorado...Each couple took a road trip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination and none of them were ever heard from again."

"The continental US is huge, though," Julia reminded him. "I mean, what if they just changed their destination?"

"Maybe but each one's route took them to the same part of Indiana," Dean informed her. "Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another."

"This is the second week of April."

Dean nodded at his brother. "Yep."

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?"

"Yahtzee," Dean confirmed. "Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different orbits Dad had to go through? The man's a master."

Sam pursed his lips, looking severely annoyed, and pressed on the breaks. He veered toward the shoulder of the road, making Dean give him a confused look.

"What are you doing?"

"We're not going to Indiana," Sam declared.

"We're not?"

"No," Sam turned off the engine. "We're going to California. Dad called from a payphone with a Sacramento area code."

Oh, no, Julia thought. A fight was bound to break out now. Sam hated following John's orders, especially when it had something to do with the thing that killed Mary and Jess—a demon, she reminded herself—and Dean always followed his orders. It had been the cause of many arguments before and it would cause more in the future.

"Sam—"

"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be here," Sam cut him off. "We've gotta help."

"Dad doesn't want out help," Dean stated.

Sam turned to face him, retorting, "I don't care."

"He's given us an order."

"I don't care," Sam emphasized slowly. "We don't always have to do what he says."

"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives," Dean reminded his brother, his voice and eyes hardening. "It's important."

"All right, I understand. Believe me, I understand," Sam tried to change his mind. "But I'm talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge."

"All right, look, I know how you feel—"

"Do you?" Sam retorted; Dean gave him a shocked look and Julia's eyes widened. "How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the fuck would you know how I feel?"

Julia gaped at him, surprised that Sam would say anything like that. "Sam!"

"Dad said it wasn't safe for any of us!" Dean raised his voice back. "I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away, we stay away."

Sam scoffed. "I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man," he shook his head. "I mean, it's like you don't even question him."

"Yeah, it's called being a good fucking son!"

"Dean!"

God, both of them were idiots.

Sam took the keys out of the starter and opened his door, sliding out of the car. He went straight to the trunk and opened it, grabbing his bags. Julia and Dean both got out of the car at the same time for different reasons—Dean wanted to argue and Julia wanted to stop Sam before he started hitchhiking to California.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" Dean cursed at his brother. "You just do whatever you want. You don't care what anybody thinks."

Sam shrugged on his backpack, glaring at him. "That's what you really think?"

"Yes, it is."

"Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California," Sam grabbed his duffel bag and slammed the trunk shut.

"Sam, no, you can't leave," Julia protested, lunging forward to grab his arm as he started walking away; he shrugged out of her hold. "Sam, come on."

Dean scoffed in disbelief as Sam ignored her, continuing to walk away. "You're not serious."

"I am serious."

"Sam, it's the middle of the night!" Julia's eyes started stinging as she watched her best friend walk away from them.

He didn't respond.

"Hey, I'm taking off," Dean warned him loudly. "I will leave your ass, you hear me?"

Sam turned around, clenching his jaw, to answer, "That's what I want you to do."

Dean was quiet for a few seconds and Julia was hoping he'd just apologize so Sam would get back in the car, but he shook his head. "Goodbye, Sam."

"Dean—"

"Get in the fucking car, Julia," Dean snapped at her, pulling the keys from the trunk's lock and walking around to the driver's side. "Let's go."

Julia bit her lip and looked back at Sam with wet eyes, meeting his gaze. He just nodded at the car, knowing that she didn't want to choose. It wasn't like this was going to be forever, anyway—it was just until he found his dad.

"Julia!"

Julia jumped at Dean's exclamation and gave Sam a sad smile before opening her door and sliding back into her seat. He started up the engine as soon as her door closed and pressed harshly on the gas, propelling them forward. Julia didn't look back at Sam; she never walked away from him before and the guilt threatened to swallow her.

Burkittsville, Indiana was of the smallest towns Julia had ever seen. It consisted of maybe four or five roads with one restaurant, one general store, and one gas station. She didn't know that if the main part of town was always this dead, but she hoped it was the rain and not their everyday life. There was not a single person in sight.

Dean parked at the side of the road—it was actually more of a paved trail more than anything—and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. Julia eyed him hesitantly, watching as he opened the phone and scrolled through his contacts until he stopped at Sam's name.

He hesitated for a second, his thumb hovering over the call button, and then flipped the phone shut.

"You should call him."

In the hours since they had driven away from Sam, Dean had calmed down considerably. In fact, Julia thought that he wasn't mad at all now. He had apologized for yelling at her only thirty minutes after they took off and she could feel the regret coming off of him in waves. She figured that it had more to do with Sam than it had to do with him raising his voice at her.

Dean's green eyes flicked up to hers as he pursed his lips. He shut off the engine and pulled the keys from the starter. "I'm not gonna call him," he stated before getting out of the car. "Let's go."

Julia slid out of the passenger seat and followed him down the sidewalk to the main road, thankful that she had dressed in a navy windbreaker to ward off the rain and slight breeze. "Why don't you wanna call him?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, Junior."

Julia glanced at a lady who passed by them with an umbrella, glad that someone actually lived in this town, and then back at him. "Dean."

"Can you just drop it for now?" Dean gave her a firm yet almost-pleading look. "I wanna ask this guy about the people who disappeared."

He pointed to the restaurant they were walking toward; she followed his gaze, spotting an old man sitting outside of a cute little place called Scotty's Café.

"Fine, okay."

They continued walking toward the café, coming to a stop a few feet from where the man was sitting.

"Let me guess," Dean greeted, looking down at the sour-looking man. "Scotty."

Scotty nodded, not looking happy about the fact that they stopped to talk to him.

"Hi, my name's John Bonham and this is—"

"Isn't that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?" Scotty interrupted his introduction.

Dean looked taken aback by the man's knowledge—as if Zeppelin wasn't a popular band or something. "Wow," he muttered. "Classic rock fan."

Julia pressed her lips together and turned back to Scotty. "I'm Lyla Johnson," she made up a random name, hoping that there wasn't some old celebrity who used to be popular that she didn't know about. "Nice to meet you."

Scotty didn't look impressed with either of them—this time Julia was taken aback. Usually almost every man she smiled at melted at the sight of her. "What can I do for you, Lyla?"

Julia looked at Dean, stumped, and his mouth straightened slightly into a grimace. He pulled out the pictures they had printed of the last victims, Vince and Holly Parker.

"We were wondering if you'd seen these people by chance," he unfolded the papers and gave them to Scotty so he could take a look.

"Nope," Scotty hardly looked at the photos. "Who are they?"

"Vince and Holly Parker," Julia said flatly; the names were the largest things written on the damn pictures. "They're friends of ours. They went missing last year and they passed through somewhere around here."

"We've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem—"

"Sorry," Scotty handed the papers back to Dean. Julia scowled down at him—if this guy interrupts us one more time... "We don't get many strangers around here."

Did Scotty know how suspicious he came off as right now? He might as well have a neon sign above his head proclaiming that he killed the couple himself. His answers were too avoidant and rehearsed.

Julia just did not like his vibe.

"Scotty, you've got a smile that lights up a room," Dean stated almost mockingly. "Anybody ever tell you that?"

Scotty's frown never left his stupid face.

"Never mind," Dean chuckled at his own sarcasm. "We'll see you around."

They walked away from the café, heading down the street toward Jorgeson Motors and Jorgeson General Store, which happened to be the town's only store and gas pump. Usually small towns were cute but this one made Julia want to curl up into a ball and cry her eyes out. She would be so bored if she lived here.

"I never want to see that man again," she muttered to Dean, shuddering dramatically.

"If I ever get as grumpy as that old bastard, I want you to shoot me," he agreed with her. "and he definitely knew something."

"Oh, I know," Julia rolled her eyes. "He had the strangest energy, too."

"Like what?"

"It's hard to explain, but," her nose wrinkled as she tried to find words that would make sense. "Okay, you know how Dumbledore's all about the greater good and all that?"

Dean nodded and hummed.

"But he doesn't really care about Harry's well-being as long as he's there to save the wizarding world," she continued. "That's the vibe I got from Scotty."

"Like that little fuckwad from Shrek," Dean understood and quoted the animated movie, "Some of you will die but that's the risk I'm willing to take."

"Yes!" she tapped him excitedly on the arm. "Wow, I can't believe you've seen Shrek!"

"It was on one night while I couldn't sleep," Dean explained as they approached the store; he pulled open the door and stepped back, letting her in before him. "It really shouldn't have been marketed for kids."

"Oh, yeah, definitely."

"Hi, there!" they were instantly greeted by a chipper older woman that was bundled up in a cozy cardigan. "I'm Stacy, what can I do for you folks?"

"Oh, we were just stopping by for a few minutes to stretch our legs," Dean told her as he snaked an arm around Julia's waist, surprising her. "We're on our honeymoon."

Julia looked at him in shock but changed her expression as Stacy cooed at them. "Oh, how wonderful!"

"Yeah," Julia smiled sweetly at her and grabbed the hand that Dean had resting on her upper hip, pinching him subtly. "We're so in love."

Dean rolled his eyes at her awkwardness and Stacy's smile faltered only a little bit.

"Well," her smile widened again. "Why don't you two take some apple pie for your trip? It's on the house."

Dean was very, very tempted by the offer for pie but he had to focus. Especially if Julia was going to act like an idiot who had never been in a relationship before.

"Actually," he pulled out the photos of Vince and Holly Parker, showing them to her. "we were wondering if you've seen our friends lately. They went missing about a year ago and we know they went through here..."

Stacy's smile instantly slipped from her face. A man walked out of the back room, then, slipped around the counter to see what was going on.

"What about who?" he asked curiously, though he seemed a little nervous.

"We're looking for some people," Dean handed him the photos. "Have you seen them?

The man studied the papers and shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Really?" Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow. Everyone they had seen so far were acting so suspicious and sweet old Stacy flipped her tune real quick. "You sure they didn't stop for gas or something?"

"Nope, don't remember them," the man confirmed. "You said they were friends of yours?"

"Best of friends," Julia nodded sweetly. At least her smile worked on him. "Holly and I grew up together."

A young blonde girl, around Julia's age, walked out from behind the counter carrying a stack of printed boxes. "Did the guy have a tattoo?"

"Yeah, he did."

The girl took the papers from the man. "Don't you remember, Uncle Harley?" she asked him. "They were just married."

"Oh, you're right, Emily," Harley suddenly remembered. "They did stop for gas. Weren't here for more than ten minutes."

God, these people needed acting coaches, Julia thought, how many people in this town are gonna cover for a couple of disappearances?

Clearly something was going on here and it wasn't just because the man all of a sudden remembered a couple just because his niece did. Julia got the same vibes from Harley and Stacy that she got from Scotty.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You remember anything else?

"I told them how to get back on the interstate," Harley gave the papers back to Dean. "They left town."

"Can you point us in that same direction?" Dean wondered.

Harley nodded. "Sure."

Julia frowned at the apple orchard in front of them. It had to be the creepiest little orchard, ever—the apple trees looked like they came out of a Tim Burton movie, some of the grass was dead, and the only thing that had color in the whole area were the apples on the ground and in the trees. It wasn't even apple season, so how the trees had apples to begin with, she didn't know.

They were driving down the interstate in the direction that Harley sent them when all of the sudden, the EMF meter started lighting up and buzzing. It had come out of nowhere so Dean had pulled over. Of course, because she was that lucky, the EMF led them to the orchard.

If she could guess what was making the EMF go off, it'd be the creepy ass scarecrow propped up in the middle of the orchard.

"What crows eat apples?" she muttered as she and Dean slowly walked toward the scarecrow. "Apples aren't even in season, Dean."

"Tell me about it," Dean muttered bitterly as he looked up at the scarecrow. None of the pieces of apple pie he had recently were very good. Fall was the peak apple pie season. "Dude, you are fucking ugly."

Julia rolled her eyes and blanched when she saw that the scarecrow had a scythe in its hand. "Why the hell would a scarecrow be armed with that?"

Dean hummed, his eyes searching the scarecrow up and down. He paused a little when he spotted something that looked familiar on the arm with the scythe. He turned to the ladder next to the closest apple tree and picked it up, bringing it back over to the scarecrow.

Julia grimaced as he climbed the ladder, hoping that the thing wouldn't suddenly come alive and slice his head off. That would be horrific for everyone involved.

Dean reached toward the arm he wanted to get a closer look at and pulled by the sleeve. "You see that?" he asked Julia, nodding at the tattoo on the scarecrow's arm. "It's the tattoo."

Julia stood on her tip toes to get a better look. "The same tattoo as Vince Parker."

Dean pursed his lips and crawled down the ladder. "The very one."

They got into the Impala and drove back to Burkittsville, deciding that they needed to question the girl that seemed to be the only one who was telling the truth in the whole town.

"Okay, so, a couple goes missing every year around the same time like clockwork in the same place," Julia hummed, resting her head against the passenger window. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Dean nodded. "Human sacrifice."

"Yep," Julia sighed and lifted her head to look at him. "So, I'm thinking a Pagan or Norse god."

Dean glanced at her, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "I thought you didn't believe in that stuff?"

"I believe that different types of gods exist," Julia shrugged. "I'd be ignorant not to, especially when my dad has had run-ins with a couple of them."

The most notable story she heard from her dad was the Trickster run-in, of course.

"But you're a Christian."

"Because I believe that my God is the main God," Julia explained. "With a capital 'G'. The one who rules over the universe."

"Hmm..." Dean nodded thoughtfully as they rolled back into the town limits. "So, you believe in Evolution?"

Julia laughed. "Yes, Dean, I believe in Evolution."

Dean sighed in relief. "Thank the lord you're not a kook."

She shook her head, smiling fondly. "Thanks, D. I appreciate it."

"No problem, shortcake."

There was a red SUV parked outside of Jorgeson Motors when they approached. Dean pulled off to the gas pump at the side of the road. To their immense luck, Emily was already outside the shop.

"You're back," she greeted them kindly as they got out of the Impala.

"Never left."

"You're still looking for your friends?" she buried her hands in her red hoodie.

Dean nodded as Julia leaned against the car. "You mind filling her up, there, Emily?" she nodded and grabbed the hose from the pump, inserting it into the tank. "So, you grow up here?"

"I came here when I was thirteen," Emily told them. "I lost my parents to a car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Julia gave her a sympathetic smile; Emily gave her a grateful look. "Your aunt and uncle were nice."

Well, they were until they mentioned the missing people, anyway.

"Everybody's nice here."

"So, what, it's the perfect little town?" Dean asked skeptically.

Emily didn't catch his tone. "Well, you know, it's the boonies," she shrugged. "but I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here? It's almost like we're blessed."

Julia raised her eyebrows. Blessed. Ripe apples in early spring, a scarecrow, a couple sacrificed every year, and a town that seemed to flourish in a recession? Something tugged on the back of her mind but she couldn't remember what the exact information was.

"Hey, have you been out to the orchard?" Dean asked her suddenly; Emily nodded. "You seen the scarecrow?"

Emily scoffed softly. "Yeah, it creeps me out."

"I thought I was the only one," Julia chuckled in comradery. "Do you know who owns it?"

"I have no idea," Emily shrugged. "It's just always been there."

Julia nodded in understanding as Emily took the hose from the tank and put it back in the pump.

"Is that your aunt and uncles?" Dean gestured to the red SUV with his head.

Emily shook her head. "A customer's," she corrected him. "had some car troubles."

"It's not a couple, is it?" Dean asked hurriedly. "A man and a woman?"

Emily nodded in confirmation.

"Are they around?" Dean hesitated before continuing, "eating at Scotty's, maybe?"

"It's the only restaurant in town," Emily told them like it wasn't obvious. "Famous for their apple pie."

They paid for the gas and thanked Emily for her help before making an excuse to stop into Scotty's Café. The couple were the only people in the café when they arrived, besides Scotty, who was serving them two plates of warm apple pie.

"Hey, Scotty," Dean greeted the older man like a friend—if that friend was a guy who was most likely sacrificing a couple each year for some god. "can we get a black coffee and a sweet tea?"

Scotty gave them an unhappy look as they walked over to one of the empty tables next to the couple.

"Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you're at it?" Dean called to Scotty before he could disappear into the kitchen. If it was any other server than Scotty, Julia would have scolded him for being so rude.

Julia nudged him in the back, silently urging him to sit down. She took the chair facing with the back facing the kitchen and Dean took the seat to her left.

"How ya doing?" he greeted the couple casually. "Just passing through?"

The woman nodded enthusiastically. "Road trip."

"Yeah, us, too," Dean hummed.

Scotty emerged from the kitchen with a pitcher of cider. He walked over to the couple's table and refilled their glasses. When he finished, he gave Dean a stern look. "I'm sure these people want to eat in peace."

"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean said innocently while Julia narrowed her eyes into a glare. "Oh, and that coffee and tea, too, man. Thanks."

"So," Julia spoke up, flashing the couple a smile in an attempt to counter Dean's enthusiasm. "what brings you to town?"

"We just stopped for gas," the woman told her. "The guy at the gas station saved our lives."

She raised a curious eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking," the guy stated. "We had no idea. He's fixing it for us now."

"Nice people," Dean cocked his head suspiciously; the man nodded. "So, how long until you're up and running?"

"Sundown."

"Really? To fix a break line?" the man nodded at Dean's question. "Well, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn't charge you anything."

The man wrinkled his nose and turned to his wife for help. The woman fixed Dean with a polite, if not a little standoffish, smile. "You know, thanks a lot, but I think we'd rather have a mechanic do it."

"Sure," Dean smiled slightly in agreement and paused, leaning in a little toward their table. "You know, it's just that these roads, they're not real safe at night."

"I'm sorry?"

Julia got the sense that they were creeped out now. "He means any roads at night," she rolled her eyes in amusement and sent them a friendly smile. "He's a bit of a safety nerd. Hazards of being a traffic cop, right, babe?"

She was getting a little better at this couple talk, Dean admitted to himself, a lot less awkward than before. He backed off of the couple at her pointed glare and straightened in his seat. When he saw that the couple had gone back to eating and not looking at him like he was a weirdo, he sighed.

"You and Sam gotta teach me that puppy-eyed look," he grumbled, picking up a sugar packet from the middle of the table.

"You wouldn't be able to master it," she told him quietly, her lips pulled up into a smug smile. "It's the brown eyes and dimples. You stick to that charming smile, huh?"

Dean playfully rolled his eyes at her.

"Thanks for coming, Sheriff," Scotty spoke loudly from the counter as the door to the café opened. A man, who Julia guessed was the town's only police officer, walked into the restaurant. He crossed the room and spoke quietly with the man.

Julia and Dean shared a look as the sheriff walked over to their table.

"I'd like a word, please," the man requested stiffly.

"Actually, we were just leaving," Julia stood up and pushed her chair in; Dean followed her lead, glaring at the man. "So, unless you have probable cause to detain us legally, we'd like to get out of town before dark."

The sheriff's face hardened considerably but Julia and Dean walked past him and out of the restaurant. As they drove out of town, he tailed them to make sure they wouldn't come back.

Dean looked in the rear view, where he could still see the cruiser, and chuckled quietly.

"What?" Julia asked him curiously.

"That was badass back there," he told her. "How'd you know all that?"

"Beth's a lawyer remember?" she reminded him. "I used to help her study for her finals."

"So, you know all that legal bullshit?"

"Not all of it but, yeah," she shrugged. "I know some."

"Not gonna lie, Jules, that's kinda sexy."

Julia sighed in amusement when he smirked at her. "Oh, Dean...what are we gonna do with you?"

"Have you found anything yet?" Dean groaned from his bed, lazily turning his head toward the table where Julia sat with her laptop, researching Pagan gods.

After the sheriff stopped following them out of town, they waited at the orchard for the couple they met at the restaurant. Both of them had a pretty good idea that their car was gonna break down right around there and they would be the god's yearly dinner. They happened to be right; a half-hour after the sun set, they spotted the red SUV come to a stop at the side of the road in front of the orchard.

After saving the couple, they drove them to the nearest town, Scottsburg, and told them to make sure that they stayed out of Burkittsville. The couple and Julia and Dean got rooms at the same motel and in the morning, Dean went back to the orchard with the man and fixed up their SUV so they could get the hell out of dodge.

So, now Julia was stuck in the room with a miserable Dean, researching different fertility gods that could be animating the scarecrow.

"Maybe if you helped me..." she hinted flatly.

"That's not how this works, shortcake," Dean sighed, rolling onto his stomach with his head at the foot of the bed. "I'm the muscles, you're the brain."

"What's Sam, then?"

"When Sam was with us you were the beauty and he was the brains," Dean answered simply, his green eyes dimming at the mention of his brother. "You wanna watch a movie? Let's watch a movie."

"Dean," Julia sighed as he turned on the television.

"Oh, look, Forrest Gump is on," Dean said to avoid the conversation he just knew she wanted to have. "You're a Tom Hanks fan, right?"

"Well, yeah, but—" she paused, not allowing herself to become distracted. "No, you're not gonna distract me."

"I'm not trying to distract you."

"Sure, you aren't."

"What do you want me to say?" Dean huffed, jumping off the bed to start pacing the length of the room. "That I was a jackass to my little brother? I already know that."

"I wasn't going to say that, Dean," Julia crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

Dean gave her a doubtful look. "What were you gonna say then?"

"I was gonna say that you're an idiot," Julia told him; when he sent her a glare, she continued, "but so is Sam. You guys have conflicting personalities so it's not a surprise that you guys rub elbows sometimes."

"That's what brothers do," he crossed the room, feeling a little better that she called Sam an idiot too, and sat in the chair across from her.

"I know that. I'm just saying...just because you fight doesn't mean that you'll never see him again," she smiled at him. "Even when we were at Stanford, Sam talked about you all the time. You do the same thing."

"I do not," Dean grumbled, the tips of his ears turning pink with embarrassment.

"Yeah, you do," she said matter-of-factly. "When we met up for your birthday last year you asked about him before you even said hi."

"Well, that's—"

"And then you asked me whether or not he was doing well in school," she smirked at him. "and you didn't want to go near my apartment because you didn't want to make Sam uncomfortable."

Dean pressed his lips firmly together, looking uncomfortable with what she was saying.

"And that's okay, Dean," she leaned forward and reached across the table, placing her hand on his right fist. "You raised Sam and with your dad gone right now, he's your only blood left."

The corners of his lips quirked, making the dimples above them pop out. "I miss him, okay?" he admitted. "And I feel like absolute shit for what I said to him."

"So, call him," Julia urged, taking her hand back and nodding at his phone he left on the table when they entered the room earlier that morning. "Tell him what's going on."

"How about you tell me what you found, first," Dean grinned crookedly. "and, then, I will give him a call."

"Okay," she instantly gave in. "So, I did some research about gods of fertility."

"As in...?"

"No," Julia denied quickly and moved on, "I mean like crop fertility and all that stuff. There's different gods in different cultures. In Norse mythology, there's Thor and Freyr, in Greek mythology it's Aphaea and Demeter, in Roman mythology it's Robigus."

"Okay, so that's why there's apples in spring," Dean guessed. "and why the town is still in business while everything around it dies."

"Exactly," Julia nodded. "and at the basis of fertility, whether it's agricultural or reproductive—"

"A sacrifice of a male and female," Dean finished for her. "So, you were right about Scotty. He's Farquaad."

"Yep," Julia typed into her computer, looking at the address of an ideology professor at a local college. "I emailed a local professor and asked him if he had time to answer some questions. We're meeting with him at two."

"Good work, shortcake. You're getting better at this," Dean tapped the table for emphasis. "Come on, we have time for lunch."

"And for you to call Sam," she reminded him, standing up to grab her Stanford crewneck to slip over her head.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

After they stopped for lunch, they started heading toward the local community college located on the other side of Scottsburg. While driving, Dean called Sam and was surprised that he actually answered. He quickly gave him the rundown of what happened with the couple the night before, causing Sam to pause for a few seconds.

"The scarecrow climbed off its cross?" he asked in shock.

"Yeah, I'm telling ya," Dean sighed, shaking his head. "Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun town."

"It didn't kill the couple, did it?"

"No, we can cope without you, you know," Dean shot the phone an annoyed look but Julia knew that he wasn't annoyed at all. She could tell by the gleam in his green eyes.

"So, something must be animating it," Sam said thoughtfully. "A spirit, maybe."

"We think it's more than that," Julia spoke up, glad that Dean put the call on speakerphone. "It might be a Pagan god."

"What makes you say that?"

"The annual cycle of the killings and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman—like some kind of fertility rite," Dean explained. "And you should see the locals and the way they treated this couple. They were fattening them up like a Christmas turkey."

"The last meal," Sam offered. "Given to sacrificial victims."

"We're thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan god."

"The god animates the scarecrow and the scarecrow takes its sacrifice," Julia stated. "For another year, the crops won't wilt and disease won't spread."

Sam hummed. "Do you know which god you're dealing with?"

"Not yet but I think I've narrowed it down a little," Julia sighed. "We have an appointment with a professor at a local community college."

"We wouldn't have to go if we had the brains of the team back," Dean hinted.

Sam caught it and laughed lightly. "You know, if you're hinting you need my help, just ask."

"I'm not hinting anything," Dean lied and then hesitated, looking over at Julia; she nodded encouragingly. "Actually, uh...I want you to know—I mean, I don't think that—"

"Yeah," Sam took mercy on Dean's inability to express his emotions outright. "I'm sorry, too."

"Sam, you were right," Dean admitted. "You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life."

"Are you serious?" they could hear the surprise in his voice.

"You've always known what you want and you go for it," Dean said seriously. "You stand up to Dad and you always have. Hell, I wish...anyway, I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy."

Julia smiled and turned her head to look out the window, her eyes filling with tears. She was such a sap. She was one of those people who were cursed to cry when they were sad, happy, and angry. It made it hard to have a serious argument when you suddenly burst into tears—she knew that from experience.

Sam was kind of speechless at Dean's confession. "I don't even know what to you say."

"Say you'll take care of yourself."

"I will," Sam promised.

"Call us when you find Dad."

"Call us if you don't," Julia added, swallowing thickly to hide her tears.

Both Sam and Dean knew that she was crying. They all knew each other way too well.

"Okay," Sam said quietly, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Bye, Dean. Bye, J."

"It's not every day I get a research question on Pagan ideology," Professor Jenkins stated as he led Julia and Dean to his office.

"Well, we're in our last semester at Stanford," Julia told him. "We're partnered on a thesis about how Christianity took over the trend of Pagan ideals and practices."

"But you said you were interested in local lore?" he gave her an interested look.

She nodded with a dimpled smile.

"Well, I'm afraid that Indiana isn't really know for its Pagan worship," Professor Jenkins said apologetically.

"Well, what if it was imported?" Dean spoke up. "You know, like the Pilgrims brought their religion over. Wasn't a lot of this area settled by immigrants?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Like the town near her, Burkittsville," Dean added. "Where are their ancestors from?"

Professor Jenkins pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "Uh, northern Europe, I believe. Scandinavia."

"So, the Norse gods," Julia hummed.

"There are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses," Professor Jenkins confirmed.

"We're actually looking for one," Dean told him. "It might live in an orchard."

"Woods god, huh?" Professor Jenkins turned down a short hallway and opened one of the two doors. He let them into his office and walked right over to a large book on Pagan ideology that he took out ahead of their appointment. "Well, let's see."

Professor Jenkins leafed through the pages carefully. Dean stopped him when he saw a drawing of a scarecrow in the middle of a flourishing field. "Wait, wait, what's that one?"

"Oh, that's not a woods god, per se..."

Dean squinted as he read the title of the chapter. "The V-Vanir?" Professor Jenkins nodded and he read on, "The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male and one female..."

"Freyr is a Vanir," Julia supplied. "and so are Freya, Odin, and Thor..."

"Correct," Professor Jenkins confirmed.

"Do you know if Freyr took human sacrifices?" she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I-I'm not sure."

Dean pointed to the Vanir on the page. "Looks like a scarecrow, doesn't it?"

"Well, I suppose," Professor Jenkins chuckled awkwardly.

Dean continued to read, "This particular Vanir that's energy sprung from the sacred tree."

"Well, Pagans believe all sorts of things were infused with magic."

"So, what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it'd kill the god?"

"Son, these are just legends we're discussing," Professor Jenkins laughed slightly. "I thought your thesis is on Pagan ideals and practices?"

"It is," Julia nodded with a grateful smile. "Professor Jenkins, thank you so much for your help."

Professor Jenkins shook the hand Dean was offering. "My pleasure."

The two of them went to leave the office. When Julia opened the door, the butt of a gun was forced against her forehead, instantly knocking her out.

When Julia came to, she was being tied to an apple tree.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she groaned loudly, glaring up at Harley and Stacy, who were finishing up her ropes. "I am not about to be sacrificed when apples aren't even in season!"

"You don't have to worry about that for much longer," Stacy hushed her with a harsh glare.

"How many people have you killed, Sheriff?" she heard Dean ask. She whipped her head to the right and saw that he was being tied to his own tree a couple feet away from her. "How much blood is on your hands?"

"We don't kill them," the sheriff defended him and his neighbors.

"Oh, and accessory to murder is so much better?" Julia scoffed, wincing as Stacy harshly tightened the ropes around her wrist. "Take it easy, grand—"

She was slapped before she could even finish her warning. "Son of a bitch!"

"You okay, Jules?" Dean called as Stacy and Harley backed away from her tree.

"I'm peachy, Dean."

"Good," he turned his attention back on the sheriff. "How many cars have you hidden or clothes you've buried?"

"That's none of your concern," the sheriff spat.

The four elders started walking away from their trees, toting their shotguns with them.

"I hope your apple pie is fucking worth it!" Dean shouted after them.

A half-hour passed as they were stuck there, the sun starting to set. There was still a little bit of light left in the sky when Emily appeared. She pressed her finger to her lips at the confused looks they gave her, telling them to be quiet as she carefully walked over to them.

She knelt in front of Dean, pulling a pair of scissors out of her sweater pocket.

"You didn't know anything about this, did you?" he asked her as she started sawing at the thick ropes wrapped around his wrists.

"The scarecrow god?" she scoffed quietly. "No. I overheard my aunt and uncle talk about it earlier. They said they were gonna use you guys as the sacrifices."

"Thanks for helping," Julia sighed gratefully as Dean pulled his wrists, snapping through the rest of the rope.

"What's the plan?" Emily asked her and Dean.

"We can destroy the scarecrow but we gotta find the tree."

"What tree?"

"It would be really old," Dean explained. "The locals would treat it with a lot of respect. You know, like it was sacred."

Emily thought for a few seconds before her eyes lit up in realization. "The First Tree."

"What's the First Tree?" Julia wondered as Dean ran over to her and started freeing her from her ropes.

"It was an apple tree that the immigrants brought over with them," Emily told her. "It's somewhere around here."

"Okay," Dean broke through Julia's ropes, helping her to her feet and gently brushing a thumb over her black eye. "We'll focus on that tomorrow. For now, we gotta get the fuck out of here."

The three of them paused when they heard footsteps coming their way.

"Oh, my God," Emily breathed fearfully, afraid that it was the scarecrow. "Oh, my God."

"Dean? Julia?"

"No, thank God," Julia corrected her with a sigh of relief as Sam walked around a couple of apple trees, appearing before them.

"Oh, I take everything back!" Dean exclaimed, grinning at his brother. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Sam, how'd you get here?" Julia grinned at him.

"I, uh—I stole a car," he admitted sheepishly.

Dean laughed. "Oh, that's my boy!"

"Guys," Emily spoke up worriedly. "Maybe we should get out of here."

"Keep a lookout for the scarecrow," Julia warned Sam. "It could come alive at any second."

Sam gave her a confused look. "What scarecrow?"

Dean rushed around the tree where Julia had been tied up, looking for the scarecrow. It wasn't on its post.

"Fuck," he cursed harshly before turning back to Sam, Julia, and Emily. "All right, let's get the hell out of here."

While they started running through the orchard, Dean told Sam how to kill the scarecrow and stop the sacrifices.

"All right," Sam breathed. "this sacred tree you're talking about—"

"It's the source of its power."

"So we find it and burn it," Sam stated casually.

"In the morning," Dean insisted. "Let's shag ass before Leatherface shows up."

The four of them turned into another row of apple trees and stopped in their tracks when they came face-to-face with Harley and Stacy.

"This way," Dean urged, moving to the left.

Behind him, Scotty cocked his shotgun. On the two other sides were the sheriff and Professor Jenkins, both with large guns aimed at them. A soft growling approached them, causing Emily and Julia to back into Dean and Sam.

"Please, let them go," Emily begged her aunt and uncle.

"It'll be over quickly," Harley assured her. "Emily, you have to let it take them. You have to—"

Harley grunted as the scarecrow's scythe impaled itself through his heart. Stacy screamed loudly, the others scattered, and Emily turned away. Her aunt was next on the scarecrow's list; he grabbed her around the neck, impaled his scythe in the back of Harley's leg and dragged them both off back into the middle of the orchard.

The next afternoon, Julia, Sam, and Dean saw Emily off on a bus leaving to Boston, Massachusetts. They had found the First Tree earlier in the morning and it was Emily, herself, that lit it on fire.

Julia was very impressed with the girl and her bravery. Not many normal people would risk their life to save a couple of strangers from being sacrificed. Especially when it was for the good of the town they lived in and loved. Emily was a genuinely good person and Julia wished the best for her.

As the bus drove off, Sam sighed, "Think she's gonna be all right?"

"I hope so," Dean stated, staring after the bus.

"And the rest of the people, they'll just get away with it?"

"They'll be punished enough when their whole town burns to the ground around them," Julia muttered bitterly; the brothers gave her a hesitant look, reminded of when she suggested burning down the whole orchard just in case. "Metaphorically, of course."

Dean playfully rolled his eyes at her. "You little pyromaniac."

Julia winked at him.

They started walking back to the Impala. "So," Dean started, looking over at his brother. "Can I drop you off somewhere?"

"No," Sam scoffed lightly. "I think you're both stuck with me."

Dean raised his eyebrows as he stopped by his door. "What made you change your mind?"

"I didn't. I still want to find Dad and you're still a pain in the ass," Sam chuckled and paused briefly. "But, Jess and Mom are both gone. Dad is God knows where. You and Julia—you're the only people I have left."

Dean's eyes flickered over to Julia, remembering her saying something almost exactly like that the day before. She was smiling cutely at the ground, her dimple on display. He was sure there were probably tears in her eyes.

"So," Sam sighed and Dean looked back at him. "if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together."

"Sam!" Julia sniffed and lunged toward the brothers, wrapping them into an involuntary hug. Dean had been right about her tears; they were currently soaking Sam's sleeve. "That was so beautiful. You should write a book of poems or something."

Dean laughed. "You could call it The Somber Sonnets of Sam Winchester."

"Ha-ha," Sam muttered sarcastically, removing a giggling Julia from around him. "You both should be kissing my ass, by the way. You guys were dead meat."

"Emily saved us long before you did, dude," Dean pointed out. "You got there just for the ending."

"He's right."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Sure, he is."

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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