#Crowley hits the nail on the head: they still buy the Good Cas and that means Cas can buy it too

[deancoded-deangirl]

EVEN WHEN CAS HAS BETRAYED THEM IN LATER SEASONS, DEAN STILL ARGUES FOR HIM

[aterimber]

Living In The Shade

Request #23 (fic 1 of 2), from hallmarkdestiel (Tumblr): Will you do one with Destiel, Sabriel and Crobby? Please please please please please please? Please please please please please please? Please please please please please please? Please please please please please please?

I love protective!Crowley where he’s their friend and stuff. So maybe a case fic or something. Maybe they run into some hunters who aren’t so accepting.

Thanks so much for your request! This fic focuses more on the ‘non-accepting hunter’ part,  but don’t worry! I’ll be writing another fic that focuses on the fluffy Destiel, Sabriel, Crobby aspect, so that I deliver on your entire request, instead of just one part of it.

That said, I hope you enjoy the fic!

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Started: 21.03.15

Finished: 21.03.23

Words: 2,808

Destiel, Sabriel, Crobby

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“Pfft, come on!” Dean waved a dismissive hand, nearly knocking the Monopoly board over as he stood from the couch, “There’s no way I can pay that!”

Gabriel shrugged, satisfied smile on his face as he leaned back in his chair, “If you don’t pay, I win the game.”

Dean rolled his eyes, before they landed on his brother sitting in the corner of the room, head buried in a book, “Sam, your boy-toy isn’t playing fair.”

He didn’t look up, “Gabe, play fair.”

The angel sputtered a moment before turning around to face his boyfriend, “Well maybe you should tell your brother that buying all the properties that ‘sound cool’ isn’t a good game strategy.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, eyes still not lifting from the page he was on, “I thought Cas was Game Moderator?”

“He is.”

“So you’re asking me because…?”

Dean sat back down with a huff, “Because Cas left around the time Gabriel stole my last hundred.”

“I didn’t steal anything, Winchester.” Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest, “You land on my property, you have to pay.”

“That’s a dumb rule.”

“That’s how you play the game!” Gabriel shook his head before getting up from his chair. He stretched his arms above his head, before making his way over to the giant in the corner, “So, what’s got you so preoccupied that you had to miss Game Night?”

“You mean other then not wanting to get in the middle of you and Dean duking it out over fake money?” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he finally lifted his eyes from the book and he shrugged, “Just thought I should brush up on some in-”

Cas burst in the room then, eyes frantic as he spotted the men, “Demons!”

Dean stood from the couch, posture immediately switching to Hunter Mode as he took a few steps toward his angel, “What do you mean ‘demons’? Demons are coming? Here?”

“Yes,” Cas took a few steps into the middle of the room, turning so he was facing the kitchen door, angel blade at the ready, “They followed me back.”

Dean rushed to his jacket, grabbing Ruby’s knife before tossing an angel blade at his brother, “I thought this place was warded?”

“It used to be, but after-” The sound of a door banging open cut off the end of the angel’s sentence.

Gabriel rolled his eyes before plopping himself down in Sam’s chair with a huff, “You’d think with Bobby shtupping their leader they’d leave you alone.”

“What?” Dean turned to the angel, incredulous look on his face, “You’re kidding, right? Where did you get that idea?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him, “Uhm, because I have eyes. And ears. They’re not exactly quiet about it.”

A demon burst into the room then, evil smile splitting his face as he spotted the boys, “Excellent.” He leaned slightly back into the doorway, “They’re all here!”

Two more demons joined him then, all of them smiling widely. The first one took a step forward, “Where’s Crowley?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “What makes you think we know?”

“Cut the crap, Winchester.” The first demon took a few more steps toward them, “Whenever the King goes missing, he’s always with you.”

Dean shrugged, holding his hands out to his sides, “Well, unless you think one of us is gonna poop him out…”

“Oh, good,” First Demon’s smile widened, “I was hoping we could do this the hard way.”

He flicked Dean back against a wall with a loud thud, before turning to Cas as he rushed forward. Cas tackled the demon to the ground, while the other two started toward Sam. The giant took a few steps toward them before being flung against the wall, angel blade falling from his grip. He let out a huff as he tried to pry himself off the wall, with no luck.

Dean stood up with a groan, just in time to see Cas plunge Ruby’s knife into the lead demon’s chest. He helped his angel up off the body, before he was flung back against the wall again. He struggled for a moment as he was pinned, sending daggers at the other demons, before noticing Gabriel was still sitting, examining his nails, “You planning on helping or…?”

“Oh, relax,” Gabriel waved a dismissive hand, “They’re not here to fight.”

Dean snorted, “Oh, great.” He raised an eyebrow at the closest demon, “So this is just how you guys get your rocks off?”

“Careful, Winchester.” The demon who had him pinned took a few steps back toward him, “Just because we didn’t come here to kill you doesn’t mean it can’t end like that.”

Cas scoffed and took a step between the demon and his boyfriend, twirling the angel blade in his hand, “I’d like to see you try.”

“What the hell’s going on here?” The voice from behind them made the demon’s jump, effectively dropping the Winchesters to the ground. Crowley took a step into the room, raising an eyebrow at the demons, “Well?”

“U-uh,” One of the demons took a small step toward the Scot, “There was a problem, a-and we needed-”

“A problem?” He shot a look over his shoulder to Bobby, who was leaning against the kitchen door frame, looking just as unimpressed, “And what problem is so terrible you had to violate my Do Not Disturb order?”

The demon swallowed thickly, “W-well, Simon, y’know, the crossroads demon? H-he’s been-”

Crowley held up his hand, “Save it.” He turned to Bobby, apologetic smile on his face, “Can I get a rain check on tonight, Darling?”

Bobby raised an eyebrow at him, purposefully ignoring the questioning look Dean shot his way as the blonde struggled to his feet, “I thought tonight was the rain check?”

Crowley let out an exasperated sigh and took a half-step closer to the eldest, “It’s not my fault they’re idiots.”

Bobby’s eyes flicked up to the two demons, “Yeah, fine. Go save the underworld.” He smirked as he brought his eyes back to their leader, “Not like I needed you for the whole night, anyway.”

The coy smile on the demon’s face made Dean shoot a half-confused, half-surprised look at his brother. Sam shrugged as Crowley turned back to his cronies, letting out a sigh, “Let’s get this over with.”

With a snap of his fingers, all three of the Hell spawn disappeared. Dean immediately took a step toward his father figure, “What the hell was that?”

Bobby finally looked at the boys, expression smooth, “What was what?”

Dean took a another step, gesturing vaguely to the space the demons had just occupied, “That! A-are you-”

“Dating Crowley?”

Dean held his hand up as his brother closed the distance, “God, don’t say that out loud!”

Bobby shrugged, “So what if I was?”

Dean sputtered a moment, “I-it…it’s,” he turned to the other men in the room, searching for confirmation, “it’s sick!”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, “Sick?”

“He’s a demon, Bobby! H-how would you even…?” The blonde let his voice trail off, nose crinkling as the mental picture hit him, “No, you know what? Don’t answer that.”

Bobby’s eyes moved off the blonde, “Sam?”

Sam half-shrugged, “I don’t want to think about you like… that, but if you’ve found someone who makes you happy-”

“What?” Dean turned to his brother, “Have you completely lost your mind?”

“No, but I just-” he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes darting to the two uncharacteristically silent angels, “We have to be… fair.”

“‘Fair’?” Dean let out a humourless chuckle, “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” Sam shifted his weight again, “We’re both dating angels, so it’s not exactly like we’re in a position to judge.”

“Yeah, but it’s Crowley, Sam!”

“And you’re with Cas.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Cas was never a bad guy!”

“I did once eviscerate your brother’s mental health in a bid to distract you while I attempted to open a door to Purgatory.”

Dean huffed, turning to his angel, “Y-yeah, but that was different.”

“How?”

His brows pulled together as he thought, “T-that… that was a long time ago. And you didn’t do that because you wanted to.” He turned back to his father figure, “Crowley has screwed us every single chance he’s gotten just because he could. Me and Sam would never date someone who would purposefully-”

Gabriel cleared his throat from his seat, sly smile on his face as Dean shot daggers at him, “Wanna rephrase that?”

“You guys are killing me.” Dean ran a hand through his hair, “We’d never date someone who was actively trying to screw us over.” He turned expectant eyes to the others, “Can we all agree on that?”

Bobby raised an eyebrow at the blonde, “So… what? Are you forbidding me from seeing him?”

“What? No. Don’t turn this into some weird teeny-bopper drama. I just…” his eyes searched the floor as he tried to find the right words, “Are you sure there’s no one else you’d rather, y’know…” his faced scrunched again, “do?”

Bobby snorted as he pushed off the doorway, “That’s not all we do, Dean.”

“Not all you…?,” the blonde reached a hand out behind him as he took a stumbled step backward, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Bobby rolled his eyes as he crossed the now angel-less room, “Quit being so melodramatic. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not that big a deal?” Dean raised an eyebrow and followed him, stopping at the base of the stairs, “Ordering waffles and getting pancakes isn’t that big a deal. You dating the King of Hell? That’s a big deal!”

Bobby huffed, turning on the step he was on, “Well how ‘bout I make it real simple for you then, Dean?” He locked eyes with the blonde, face hard, “I never asked for your opinion, and I damn sure don’t need your permission. Got it?”

Dean swallowed thickly, but nodded, watching in silent surprise as the eldest disappeared up the stairs. He starred after him a minute – just long enough to hear a bedroom door close – before he ran a hand through his hair, making his way back to the couch, “Can you believe that?”

Sam approached cautiously, kneeling on the ground before picking up the empty game box, “That was a little rude, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No,” Sam shook his head as he started packing up the board game, “I mean you were rude.”

“What?” The blonde looked up from the fake money he was stacking together, raising an eyebrow, “You’re kidding, right?”

Sam let out a sigh, keeping his eyes on the board he was packing, “I know you’re not that big a fan of demons, but…” he let his voice trail off, brows furrowing as he searched for the right words, “Where did all that intolerance come from?”

“Intolerance?” Dean scoffed, “I’m not intolerant. I just don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it to be respectful.” Sam flicked his eyes up to his brother, “You basically outlawed Crowley from his own house, after he saved our asses.”

“Sam-”

“No, Dean, look,” he closed the lid to the now-packed-away game box, and stood, “I don’t trust Crowley any more than you do, but don’t you think – that after everything – Bobby deserves to be happy?”

“’Course,” Dean ran a hand through his hair, before resting his arms on his knees, “But why can’t he be happy with someone else? Y’know, like a human. Any human?”

“Well we did kill Fate.” The corner of Sam’s mouth turned up into a smile, “Maybe he was destined to be with someone else.”

“Oh great,” Dean rolled his eyes as he stood, “Now you’re saying this is our fault?”

“No,” he clapped his brother on the shoulder, getting him to look him in the eye, “I’m saying don’t ask a person to choose between you and their significant other. You might not like who they choose.”

Dean opened his mouth to reply, before closing it silently, “Yeah, alright, fine.” He swatted his brother’s hand off his shoulder, making a break for the kitchen, “Can we get back to game night, now?”

Sam shrugged, “If you tell the angels it’s safe to come back.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Cowards.” He ran a hand through his hair again, “Fine. I’ll send out the Bat Signal while I start the popcorn. You pick the next game.”

“But, Dean, I was in the middle of-”

Dean turned, “Game Night was your angel’s stupid idea.” He shot his brother a cocky smile as he leaned against the door frame, “That means you have to suffer, just like the rest of us.”

--

Dean shot up in his bed, frantic eyes looking around the dark bedroom, what the…? He blinked his eyes rapidly, willing them to adjust to the darkness as he scanned the room, jumping out of bed as he saw a silhouette standing in the doorway.

“I wouldn’t bother with that, if I were you.”

Dean stopped, crouched beside the bed, arm halfway to the machete he kept under it. He raised an eyebrow as he placed the accent, “…Crowley?”

“The one and only.”

Dean rolled his eyes before straightening back up, “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Ssshhh,” Crowley gestured for the hunter to meet him in the doorway, “Are you trying to wake him up?”

Dean turned to the bed, and was mildly surprised to see Cas sleeping, smushed against the wall, since when does he sleep? He made his way out into the hall, pulling the bedroom door closed behind him, keeping his voice low, “Well? What do you want?”

“I always thought angels would be too… hard to cuddle with,” Crowley sighed after a moment at the lack of answer, “Fine, straight to business, then.” He leaned himself against the banister, “It seems we have a problem.”

Dean snorted, crossing his arms over his chest, “We’ve got lots of problems, Crowley. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“You have a problem with me and Bobby?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Not this again. Look, I don’t-”

“Normally, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what you think about me,” he flicked his eyes toward the bedroom at the end of the hall, sighing, “But apparently your opinion of me matters to Bobby. Which means we need to fix this. So,” he rubbed his hands together, giving the hunter an expectant look, “What exactly are you concerned about, hm?”

Dean scoffed, “You’re kidding, right?” At the lack of answer, he ran a hand through his hair, “Fine. You’re a demon, which means you feed on chaos, and love torturing those around you, just because you can. All you’ve done is lie, manipulate and try to kill both me and Sam,” he took a step forward, face growing serious as he felt the anger begin to bubble up in his chest, “And, perhaps most irritatingly, you’re juuust too useful for us to kill, no matter how much we’ve wanted to. So no, I don’t trust you. And I especially don’t condone your… whatever it is you’re doing with Bobby, because I know you’re incapable of having good intentions. But,” he took in a breath as he backed off a few steps, “for some reason, you seem to be making Bobby happy, so I’m not gonna stand in the way of that.”

Crowley nodded slowly, “Y’know you give pretty good threatening speeches when you’re half-asleep?” At the eye roll, Crowley took a few steps away from the banister, raising an eyebrow, “Are you sure you’ll be able to hide all of,” he gestured vaguely to the hunter, “whatever emotion that is?”

Dean gave him a tight smile, “I did it with Ruby, I can do it with you.”

Crowley snorted, “Yeah, because that ended so well.”

Dean rushed forward again, pinning the demon against the banister, “I got to stab that Hell bitch while Sam pinned her down after she royally fucked up, so yeah, I’d say it ended well. And, just so we’re clear,” he narrowed his eyes, nodding toward Bobby’s bedroom, “If you ever hurt him, I’ll be first in line to roast your bones over a bonfire. Got it?”

“Got it.” The blonde backed off again, and Crowley took a few steps away from the banister again, straightening his suit, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a tied up hunter to attend to.”

“Ugh,” Dean held up his hand, face twisting into disgust at the mental picture, “Just because I’m not gonna stab you in your sleep doesn’t mean I want to hear about your crazy demon sex. I’ve got more than enough life scars, thanks.”

A sly smile pulled at the corner of Crowley’s mouth as he started back down the hall, “Love you too, Darling.”

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Have a request you’d like me to write? Shoot me a message telling me what you’d like, or e-mail me: fanfic@aterimber.com, with the subject line ‘Request’. (SPN Only)

[justjessame]

Hellfire and Angelic Grace Chapter 14

“John,” Lilana was cradled against his bare chest, Lolly snoring at their feet, so her voice was a breath above a whisper.  His lips brushing her hair was all she needed to go on.  “If you knew more -” stopping to gather her thoughts, her fears, she snuggled closer to him and his warmth, and he tightened his hold on her in response.  “If you knew more about me, and what I am, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”  

John took a deep breath, thinking of how difficult it must be for the young woman he held so tight against him, to come face to face with her biological father and to learn that she wasn’t quite human.  “Lilana, I swear if I knew anything more than you’ve been told, I’d tell you.”  And he would, because he knew what it was like to not know everything you should know.  He’d do everything in his power to make sure that Li-Li wouldn’t have to go through it alone, not anymore.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes closing despite her yearning for more of him, of his touch and his taste, because even if her parentage was part angel and demon, she was still housed in a mortal body and rest was necessary, even if she wanted John Winchester like most humans wanted air, water, and food.

Lilana was up and ready for her day before dawn crested, John right beside her as she let Lolly out and went through her morning routine that he’d never witnessed during he and the boys’ surveillance.  Lolly woke up anxious to baptize the grass in the backyard already glistening with dew and Li-Li ws giggling through her yawn as she opened up the sliding glass door that he’d barely noticed the first time he’d shared her bed.  

With a crack wide enough for her big ball of fluff to come back when she was finished, Lilana crawled back into bed and woke reminded John of all the reasons why waking up before the sun could be rewarding for more than just the early birds.  Once Lolly was back inside, Li-Li used all the persuasion in her tiny body to convince John Winchester to conserve water by joining her in the shower, then they made a simple breakfast, quiet enough to let the boys sleep in, letting it be just the two of them - Lolly’s tiny grump of a quiet bark correcting their calculation to three, before Lilana had to head to work.  

“Are you joining me today?”  She asked as he leaned into her from behind, while she rinsed the tiny pile of dishes they’d used for their start of the day, smiling at how easily he’d taken to the natural way they fit together.  

John considered her question as his chin rested on the top of her head, his hands linking around her stomach.  “Do you want me to join you?”  

She hummed, as if he really needed to ask.  Finishing her task, she turned, grinning up at him.  “If I could have my way, I’d have you next to me every second of every day from here on out.”  

John’s lips were twitching as he stared down at her.  “I’m starting to see the family resemblance, Lilana.”  Her eyebrow went up a notch.  “Temptation is a defining characteristic for your father’s side of the family tree.” A giggle bubbled up and before he knew it, she couldn’t hold it back and he felt like he’d finally done it, broken through the last bit of tension she still had from Crowley’s unexpected visit.  Mission accomplished.  Bending down, letting their lips meet, he hoped that either he, or the boys, would be able to figure more out, before another hiccup hit and Lilana took it.

Sam and Dean woke up minutes after John and Li-Li left, a wake up courtesy of Lolly and another unexpected visitor.  The barking was growing into a deep, low, terrifying growl and Sam was the first on his feet with Dean not far behind.  

Castiel, standing in the middle of the living room with Lolly growling low in her fluffy throat with her curls bristling in a completely foreign way, sighed when he saw the two Winchesters leave the hallway.  “Banish the hellhound, please?”  He waited as their eyes widened, but Sam rushed forward, calling for Lolly and opening the sliding glass door while Dean grabbed one of the many squeaky toys laying around and gave it a squeeze before tossing it to his brother.  

“Come on, Lolly,” Sam urged, smiling nervously as the ball of fluff’s attention refocused on him and the toy he was squeezing in his hand.  “Come on, girl, go get your toy.”  He tossed it into the backyard, careful of the pool and let out a breath when the dog chose to go for the toy and leave the angel alone.  Once she was outside, he slid the glass door shut and prayed it would hold her, if Cas was right about her real nature.

“Did you call that beast ‘Lolly’?”  Cas asked, squinting at Dean and Sam in quick succession.  “And was that a dog toy?”  

“She’s a dog, Cas.” Dean offered, shrugging and yawning.  As he looked around the living room, he realized they must have missed Li-Li and their dad leaving for the day.  “I wonder if Li-Li made breakfast before she left.”  He headed for the kitchen, the scene he’d woken up to already fading from his mind, replaced by hopes of bacon or more French toast at least.  

“It’s a hellhound,” Cas reiterated, following behind the elder Wincherster son.  “It might be wearing a glamour to look like a fluffy mutt, but it’s a hellhound.”  

Sam shot Lolly, chewing happily on the toy in the warm morning sun, a disbelieving look before following behind the duo to the kitchen.  “Are you sure, Cas?  I mean, we’ve been in this house with her for days and she’s never once made a move to -”

Cas sighed.  “I can’t explain why the beast from hell didn’t attack you, all I know is that it is one.”  He watched as Dean searched the kitchen for food, opening the refrigerator and cabinets, finally finding a covered dish in the microwave and muttering a moan of delight.  “There are rumors circulating about something unnatural being unleashed on earth.”  

Dean uncovered the dish to find more French toast and a few pieces of sausage, while not bacon, they’d do in a pinch.  “Something unnatural?”  He was focused on the plate and wondering if he had to share with Sam, when his brother rolled his eyes and reached around him to pull a second plate out of the oven.  Grinning at his good fortune, he refocused on Cas.  “OK, so what kind of weirdness is going on now?”  

“A girl who can vaporize demons with a single touch.”  Cas offered, and Sam and Dean went still and silent.  “You two haven’t seen or heard of anyone like that, have you?”  

Sam glanced around the kitchen, buying time and nudged Dean when he noticed that the coffee pot was half full and still on to keep the lifeblood warm.  “What would someone who could do something like that be called?”  Dean was going for the coffee cups while Sam was taking their plates to the small table they’d shared breakfast with Li-Li that first morning.  He went back for the syrup and forks, and joined Dean while Cas studied them and took the seat that she’d sat in that first day.  

“I guess that would depend on what created her.”  Cas answered, eyes not leaving them as they ate without making eye contact.  “No one seems to know where she came from, which makes things rather harder to decipher.  Unnatural is the only word that seems to work.”  

Dean snorted, cutting into his slice of toast.  “Seems kind of crappy, don’t you think?”  

“Yeah, I mean if you don’t know what she is, why assume she’s ‘unnatural’?  The word has dark connotations, doesn’t it?”  Sam offered, picking up his coffee cup.  

Cas sat back in his chair, observing the two men that he felt he knew better than most angels he’d known since before the dawn of it all.  “You know something.”  He waited, but neither said a thing, they simply ate and drank through their breakfast, waiting him out.  “The demon, it was extinguished in a bar in this town.”  Nothing.  “A bar owned by the same woman who lives in this house.”  Not a peep.  “I suppose I could just go there and ask to speak with her myself.”  

“Cas,” Dean’s eyes went wide.  That was a horrible idea.  If Lilana had vaporized a demon wearing a meatsuit, then what would happen if she touched an angel in the same situation?  “I think you should do more research, I mean you just heard the rumor.”  Come on, Sammy, help me out here.

“That’s right, Cas,” Sam picked up on the almost audible plea for his aid.  “Learning that Lilana owns the bar that it happened in is a great start, but that’s all it is, a start.”

“It’s a start to know that this Lilana woman owns the bar where a demon was vaporized from the person it was possessing, and she happens to have a hellhound for a pet?”  As if Lolly heard her cue, her nails were scratching on the glass door to be let back in.  “I think I should go introduce myself to Ms. Monahan.”  He stood up and Sam had to give him credit for doing his background on Li-Li.  Cas sighed.  “I’d hoped you would be upfront with me about what was going on here, but -”  Before Dean could open his mouth to argue, Cas was gone and Sam had his phone out as he went to let Lolly in, warning his dad and Lilana that an angel was coming was paramount.  As was keeping a hellhound from clawing through the glass -

[dlwritings]

Firecracker Soul | Dean Winchester

Chapter 14 - Happy Anniversary

pairing - mob!Dean x teacher!ofc

word count - 4,638

warnings - language, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner with a packaged wiener), light spanking, daddy kink, Dean’s a dick

additional notes at the end

(previous)

Alice woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing obnoxiously on the bedside table. Dean groaned and rolled onto his stomach, and Alice mumbled an apology before grabbing her phone. Without looking at it, she pressed answer. "Hello?" she mumbled.

"Morning sunshine," Christine said. "Do you know what time it is?" Alice suddenly sat up straighter and looked at the clock on the table: 9:36.

"Oh my god," she said. "I'm so sorry. I totally overslept. I can be there in, like, a half hour. I just have to run home and change and then I'll be right there."

"Run home?" Christine said, a smile evident on her voice. "I take it you and Mr. Winchester had a fun night last night." Dean chuckled, and Alice turned to look at him, realizing the volume on her phone must've been too loud.

"Shut up," she said, not sure if she was talking to Dean or Christine. "I can leave right now."

"Don't worry about it," Christine said. "We can miss a week."

"We never miss a week," Alice argued. "How about tomorrow? Same time. I swear I won't oversleep."

Chrstine laughed. "Deal." She paused. "So when do I get to meet this guy?"

"Goodbye, Christine."

When she hung up the phone, she rolled onto her back with a sigh. "Sorry," she said.

"Mm, s'okay," he said. "I was getting hungry anyway."

"Yeah?" she said, propping herself up on her elbows. "I can make some pancakes or-" Dean cut her off by pushing her back down onto the bed and hovering over her.

"Not that kind of hungry," he said. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked down at him as he kissed up her legs, pushing them apart. Realization hit her, and she felt her body start to tingle. "How're you feeling?" he asked, pulling his boxers down her legs. "Are you sore?"

"A, a little," she said.

He kissed her thigh. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay," she mumbled. "S'not so bad."

He hummed. "Should daddy kiss it better?" She breathed heavily and nodded. "Mm-mm," Dean muttered. "Good girls use their words, remember?"

She nodded again. "Yes." Dean smiled against her skin and started kissing her thigh, sucking the skin until little purple marks remained. He noticed her start to squirm and chuckled before slowly licking her cunt. She whined immediately at the contact and put her hands on her chest. Dean looked up at her through his eyelashes before pulling away and moving up her body. He pushed her shirt over her tits and kissed them each before dragging his lips back between her legs.

"Play with your tits for me, sweetheart," he said.

She breathed out an, "Okay," before she started rolling her nipples between her fingers. Dean groaned at the sight and dove back into her core, fucking her slowly with his tongue and letting his nose brush against her clit. She let out high pitched moans and tugged at her nipples, feeling shockwaves across her whole body. Dean pulled back so he could watch how her pussy reacted to his thumb gently rubbing her clit. She whined and lifted her hips, and Dean looked back up at her.

"Tell me what you want," he said. She bit her upper lip and took a sharp breath in through her nose when he let his pointer finger circle her opening. He never quite let it dip in, knowing deep down that was probably what she wanted. "Come on, Alice," he mumbled. "Use your words."

"I, I-" She stuttered. "You. You. I want you."

Dean's cock twitched in his boxers as he replaced his thumb with his mouth, finally pushing his finger inside her and sucking her clit between his lips. Alice cried out and arched her back, cumming almost immediately. Dean kept his lips on her clit, continuing to flick the nub with his tongue as he pulled his fingers out of her. He moved his tongue all around her cunt, licking her clean before diving back in for a second taste. "Dean," she cried. His actions were faster, more desperate to get her to that high again. He knew she wanted him to fuck her, but watching her writhe on the bed from his tongue alone was intoxicating for him. "Daddy, please," she said, rolling her hips against his face. Dean groaned against her pussy, and just when he could tell she was about to cum again, he pulled away. She whimpered at the loss of contact, but he kissed the sound out of her mouth.

He pulled back and tugged his boxers off, tossing them aside. She spread her legs for him, and Dean smiled at her eagerness. "Why don't we try something else?" he said, helping her sit up. He sat with his back against the headboard, his cock hard and slapping against his stomach, and she sat and waited for him to tell her what to do. He patted his lap. "Want you to ride me," he said. A blush crept up from her neck to her cheeks as she bit her lip. Dean put his hand on her cheek. "It's just like when you rode my thigh, remember?" he said. She nodded, and Dean smiled. "It's just like that, but instead-" He took her hand and wrapped it around his cock. She instinctively squeezed it lightly, and he held back a groan. "Instead, you're riding my cock. You think you can do that?"

She nodded. "Yes." She moved her hand and straddled his hips, not quite sinking onto his member yet. Her forehead was pressed against his, and her eyes were closed. "You'll help me, right?" she whispered. He tucked some of her hair behind her ear and smiled.

"Course I will," he said. She nodded, took a deep breath, and Dean helped her line his cock up with her opening so she could lower herself onto him. He watched her face screw up and her lips part at the feeling. Dean tried to get her to open her eyes by brushing his fingers across her cheek. "How's it feel?" he asked. She swallowed thickly and buried her face against his neck.

"Feels really good," she said. Without him even prompting her, she rolled her hips against his, barely lifting off him before grinding back down.

"Oh, good girl," Dean praised, putting his hands on her ass. "That's right. Just like that." She nodded, her head still against his shoulder, and moved her hips again in a similar motion, moaning at the way he reached so deep inside her with this new position. Everytime her clit rubbed against his pelvis, her body twitched and she whimpered against his skin. Dean helped guide her movements, keeping his hands on her ass and moving her along his cock.

This wasn't enough. Alice could feel the desperation building in her tummy, but she wasn't getting there. She gripped his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin, as she lifted herself onto her knees and lowering herself back onto him. She moved faster, trying to bounce up and down on his cock instead of grinding against him. Dean tossed his head back and gripped her ass tighter before giving her right cheek a light swat. She moaned and bit his neck, trying her best to control her erratic breathing. She didn't last much longer, and as soon as Dean felt her flutter around his cock, he came right along with her. He helped her slow her movements while lightly kissing her shoulder.

Alice didn't move from his lap. She stayed there, her face still against his neck, and Dean could feel her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. Even as he softened inside her, she didn't move. She didn't want to say it out loud, not knowing if she was weird for feeling this way, but she liked having him inside her. She swore she could stay like that all day. She thought about it and felt her pussy clench again, causing Dean to groan. "You're gonna have to give me a minute, sweetheart," he said. "I'm not quite ready to go again."

"No, s'okay," she mumbled. "I just-" She decided to bite the bullet and very quietly whispered, "I like feeling you inside me like this."

Dean let out a chuckle that sounded more like a sigh. "I swear, you're gonna kill me one of these days, you know that?"

"Mm," she hummed lazily. "If you say so." She kissed his neck, sucking a bit so she could leave a little mark of her own. "Can we stay like this today? Just all day?"

"God," Dean said, "I would love to, but I have things to do."

"No," she whined.

"Hey," Dean said, playfully swatting her ass. "What did I say about being a brat?"

She swallowed nervously. "I get spanked."

"Right," he said. "And I know you seemed to like that a few minutes ago, but you wouldn't like it as much as a punishment. Understand?"

She nodded. "Yes, daddy."

Dean lifted her off his lap, and she shivered, watching the cum leak out of her. He chuckled and reached out, touching between her thighs and gathering up the cum on his fingers so he could bring it up to her mouth. Without him even saying anything, Alice opened her mouth and sucked his fingers clean. He groaned, pulled his fingers out of her, and kissed her deeply. "Like I said," he mumbled. "You're gonna kill me."

Alice giggled and scratched her fingers across his scruff. "So what do you have to do today?" she asked.

"Well," he said with a sigh, "I have to make sure Ellen's faction successfully collects some cargo from the airport, meet up with Crowley and some of his men on a Lucifer lead, and talk to a couple people who owe me some money." She sighed and pouted.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked.

"I'll be back before dinner," he said. "We're at Cas and Hannah's again. Do you want to make dessert or do you want me to buy something?"

"I can make something," she said. "I've got nothing to do today."

"Alright," Dean said.

"You think you could bring me home?" she asked. "I should have my car in case I need to go shopping."

"Mhm," Dean hummed, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She bit her upper lip, and he grinned. "You know," he said, lightly pinching her lower lip, "you have a tell."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked when he let go.

"It means," he said, "when you're nervous about saying something, you bite your upper lip."

"Do I really?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

He chuckled. "Yeah, you do. So what's on your mind?"

She sighed. "Can I come back here and make the dessert? Your kitchen's a lot nicer than mine." Dean smiled and furrowed his eyebrows.

"That's it?" he asked. "That's what you were nervous about?" She pressed her lips into a tight line and shrugged. He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Course you can. Do you remember my passcode?" She shook her head no. "091305," he said. "Can you remember that?"

"I don't know," she said.

"That's okay," he said. "I'll tell Derek he can let you in."

"Is he the only guy who works that desk?" she asked with a giggle.

Dean chuckled. "Somehow he's always the one there." He stood up from the bed and pulled her up as well. "Go use the bathroom so I can hop in the shower." She nodded and skipped off to the bathroom. When she came back, she slid on the pair of boxers she had worn to bed.

"Do you want me to make enough coffee for you?" she asked.

"Sure," Dean said. "That'd be great." She nodded, stood on his tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, and skipped out of the room. Dean smiled and watched her until she was gone.

At home, Alice decided to pack some clothes to keep at Dean's. Mostly she just wanted essentials: a couple pairs of underwear, a pair of leggings, and some shorts. She could always wear a shirt of Dean's in public, but she was sick of having to run home to get clean underwear after spending the night.

The rest of her morning went by in a blur. She decided on a recipe, checked for ingredients at Dean's, then went out to the store to buy what he didn't have. She was making another pie, this time blueberry instead of apple. Once she had all the ingredients laid out, she set to work baking. She played her music at a low hum and danced around the kitchen, smiling brightly to herself. She was at her boyfriend's apartment making a pie for his family dinner. She wished she could take a photo of her life in that exact moment.

Alice had completely lost track of time when she put the pie in the oven. It was already almost 2:00. After cleaning up the kitchen, she decided to find a place to put the clothes that she had brought along. All she needed was a single drawer to herself, so she figured she would just move some of Dean's boxers and socks or something. She opened some of his drawers, finding most of them filled with shirts and ties, until she found one that was empty. Empty aside from a book.

The book was square and on the front had a photo of Dean with a brunette girl smiling with their foreheads pressed together. In the corner in calligraphy was the word love and the year 2010. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she took the book and sat on the floor beside the drawers. She bit her lip and opened it. On the front cover in delicate black handwriting was a note.

A year may not seem like much, but with you, it's already felt like a lifetime. Here's to a million lifetimes more. Happy anniversary x

Lisa

Alice started flipping through the pages, her eyes glancing over all the pictures. Dean looked so happy with this girl. Lisa. She could see now why Hannah had mentioned her at dinner. She didn't even have to meet her to know that she meant a lot to Dean. Part of her hated the girl. This had been ten years ago, but Dean still had the book. He was hers now, wasn't he? So why did he still keep bits of Lisa around? Another part of her was jealous, because she wasn't sure if Dean had ever looked at her the way he was looking at Lisa. Then again, they hadn't been together nearly as long.

Why was she even looking at this if all it was doing was making her sad?

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Alice jumped and closed the photobook when Dean stormed into the room. She rushed to stand up from the floor. "I, I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I found it in a drawer and-"

"And you thought that gave you a right to look at it?" he snapped. "You can't just go through my shit, Alice!" He ripped the book from her hands, and she winced. She had never seen him this angry before, and she wished she could rewind ten minutes and prevent this from happening at all.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I, I wasn't thinking."

"No, fucking clearly you weren't thinking!" he shouted. "Because if you were thinking when you did this, then that would make you a dumbass, and I never pegged you as a dumbass."

Tears started falling from her eyes as shame and fear crept into her head. Dean opened the drawer the book had been in and shoved it back in, slamming it shut with so much force, the picture frame of him and Lexi fell over. Without another word or even a glance in her direction, he stormed out of the room. When Alice heard the bathroom door slam, she grabbed her bag and went into the kitchen. She found a notepad and a pen in her purse and scribbled a note that said: The pie will be done when the buzzer goes off.

She left the note on the counter, slipped her shoes on, and stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby. She heard Derek say something to her, but she ignored him and made her way out to the parking lot. When she got home, she immediately went into her room and curled up into bed, pulling the covers over her shoulders and crying softly into her pillow.

How funny. Only a few hours ago, she wished she could take a photo of her life in that moment. Now, she wished she could sleep for a while and wake up in another story.

-

Things had not gone well at his meeting with Crowley. Apparently, Crowley had lost one of his guys who was tailing Lucifer. Lost, as in, the guy got too close, and Lucifer shot him between the eyes. They were no closer to Lucifer than they were the last time they met, and Dean was starting to get sick of waiting.

"What chance do we have of successfully getting a guy on the inside?" Dean asked.

"You want to plant a rat in Lucifer's family?" Crowley asked.

"I want to do something that could get us something useful," Dean said. "I'm sick of sitting here with our thumbs up our asses. We were so close to something, but we've just got more of nothing. How much longer are we going to keep chasing our tails?"

"Okay, calm down there Squirrel," Crowley said, leaning his elbows on the table. "We're going to get him. I have been toying with an idea."

"And you haven't shared?" Dean said.

"Because you're not going to like it," Crowley said. Dean leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. He motioned with his hand for Crowley to continue. "You have one person who might be able to get on the inside."

"No," Dean said. "I'm not sending Jack in."

"He is a direct link to Lucifer," Crowley said. "His own flesh and blood. That means something to him. He would let the kid in."

"I'm not putting him in that position," he said. "He's new to all of this. There's a chance he's not strong enough to stay on our side. If Lucifer said all the right things, I think Jack might switch."

"He's that unloyal?" Crowley taunted.

"He's that naive," Dean said. "He's a good kid, and he's got heart, but he's not strong enough. That's just a fact."

"Then I'm afraid we're going to keep sitting on our thumbs," Crowley said. "Unless you can come up with something better."

Dean needed a break. He had to meet up with Bart to collect some money in an hour, but he figured that was enough time to run home and visit Alice. If she was in the mood, they could even have a quickie before he had to leave again.

What he wasn't expecting to find was Alice in his room, on the floor, looking through Lisa's photo book. After going off on her, he stormed into the bathroom to catch his breath. He gripped the bathroom sink in his hands as he hung his head. Why the fuck had she gone through his things? That book was personal, and she had no business opening it and paging through it.

When he looked at his reflection, he saw how crazy he looked. He had acted irrationally. Probably scared her. Scared his girlfriend who had been in a scary relationship before. That wasn't okay. Still, this wasn't all on him, right?

He left the bathroom and found his bedroom empty. "Alice?" he called. Nothing. He called her name again only to be met with more silence. When he made his way to the kitchen, he found a note on the counter: The pie will be done when the buzzer goes off.

He crumpled the note up and threw it back on the counter, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Shit," he mumbled to himself. He was frustrated, but he was also annoyed. He knew he should call her, but he didn't. Instead, he waited for the pie to finish and headed out to Cas and Hannah's.

Dean walked into the house without his usual greeting. Quick little feet ran up to him but froze as soon as she saw him alone. "Where's Ms. Alice?" Lexi asked with a pout. Dean's jaw clenched, and he walked past her and into the kitchen.

"She's busy tonight," he answered, putting the pie on the counter. "You'll see her at school."

"But I wanted to see her now," she whined. Dean didn't say anything, so Lexi stormed away with a huff. Dean greeted Jess and Hannah with kisses on the cheeks.

"Dean," Sam said slowly. "Where's Alice?"

"I said she was busy," Dean snapped. "Are you deaf?"

Everyone dropped the subject.

Dinner went by somewhat awkwardly. Dean gave short, one-worded answers to everything and started no conversations up of his own. All he could think of was Alice and Lisa.

When Lexi left the table and the adults sat around drinking, Jess was the first one who spoke again. "Alright," she said, "what's going on? What did you do?"

Dean scoffed. "You're automatically assuming it's my fault."

"Yes," everyone said back. Dean rolled his eyes.

"She went through my shit," he mumbled, sipping his whiskey.

"What'd she find?" Cas asked. Dean took another sip of his drink.

"Just something of Lisa's," he mumbled, not meeting anyone's eyes. "It was just some, some photo book she gave me."

"And you kept it?" Hannah asked. Dean clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at her.

"I get it," Jess said quickly. "She was a big part of your life for a long time."

"I know you guys want to make this into some big deal," Dean said with a shrug, "but I honestly just forgot it was there."

Sam scoffed. "Right."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"If you forgot it was there," he said, "you wouldn't have gotten so mad that she found it."

"That's bullshit," Dean said.

"It's alright that it still matters to you," Jess said. "You just shouldn't take it out on Alice."

Dean downed the rest of his drink with another roll of his eyes. He knew he had messed up, but he was just too damn stubborn to admit it. If he couldn't admit that to himself, how could he admit it to her?

-

After a sleepless night, Alice met Christine at the cafe for breakfast. She got there a half hour early just because she didn't want to sit in her apartment and mope any longer than she already had. She was staring at her coffee, stirring the spoon absentmindedly, so she hadn't noticed when Christine arrived until she was sitting in front of her. "Whoa," Christine said with a chuckle. "Someone's jumpy." Alice mustered up a weak smile, and Christine furrowed her eyebrows. "Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?"

Alice sighed and sipped her coffee before speaking. "Dean and I slept together on Friday. And yesterday morning. And then yesterday evening we got in a really big fight, and I left his apartment and haven't heard from him since."

Christine's lips were parted in shock. "Wow," she said. "That's a lot to unpack at once." Alice scoffed and drank more of her coffee. AJ came over with Christine's food, but nothing for Alice. When Christine questioned it, Alice explained that she told AJ she wasn't hungry. "When was the last time you ate something?" she asked.

"Lunch yesterday," she said. "I just haven't got any appetite. I'm so stressed out."

"What was the fight about?" she asked.

Alice sighed again. "I found a photo book of him and his ex. He was mad that I had gone through his stuff, and he's right. I was totally out of line."

"Did he hurt you?" Christine asked, her voice lowering and her eyes narrowing.

"No, no," Alice said quickly. "He just yelled. He called-" She hesitated, knowing Christine would likely blow it all out of proportion.

"What did he call you?" she pressed.

She shrugged. "It's not a big deal. It was the heat of the moment. He called me a dumbass." Just as she expected, Christine went off.

"Alice, that's not okay," she said.

"I've handled a lot worse," she argued. "And it was really my fault anyway. I shouldn't have-"

"I'm not going to let you spiral like this," Christine said, cutting off her excuses. "It doesn't sound like you deserved what happened. There are a lot of calmer ways he could've reacted to you snooping."

"Maybe I triggered something," she said. "Maybe it's a bigger deal to him than it seems to us."

"I don't think anything justifies him calling you a dumbass," Christine said. Alice just shrugged, staring down at her coffee again.

"I really like him, Chris," she whispered. "He's not like Greg. I know it. He flew off the handle once, but everyone flies off the handle sometimes. I can't let him go just because of that. Plus we-" She hesitated and bit her upper lip. "We slept together, you know? That means something to me." Christine pursed her lips and breathed heavily through her nose.

"So what are you going to do?" she asked.

Alice shrugged. "I guess wait until he reaches out to me. He's the one who's mad. I want to give him space to cool off."

"That's probably a good idea," she said. After a few beats of silence, she sighed dramatically. "I guess I still want to know about the sex."

Alice couldn't fight a smile as her cheeks heated up. "Who initiated it?" Christine asked. Alice didn't say anything, and Christine playfully gasped. "You did, didn't you?" Alice looked down at her coffee and nodded, which made Christine cheer. People looked in their directions so Alice slapped her friend's arm. "How'd it go down?" she asked. "What'd you do? Say something like, Sex me up, daddy?"

"What?" Alice said through a laugh. "No. No. I had already decided that I wanted to after dinner with my dads, and when we got back to his place, he asked me a little bit about Greg."

"Like what?" she asked.

"I guess my dad had mentioned him to him when they were outside," she said. "He probably alluded to how much he sucked. Dean inferred that he abused me. He asked how often and how bad it got, so I told him. And he was just-" She let out a breath through her nose as a small smile grew on her face. "He was so sweet, and he genuinely cared about what had happened to me and wanted me to know he would never be like that." Christine smiled for her friend, and Alice continued. "So I just, I kissed him, and I told him I was ready."

"How was it?" she asked. Alice's smile just grew as she hung her head.

"It was really good," she whispered. "He was really gentle and sweet and kept asking if I was okay. He ran us a bath after. It was just-" She sighed, then finally looked up at Christine. "It was really perfect, Chris. Both times." She pressed her lips into a tight line, suddenly losing her reason to smile as she thought about the fight again. "I won't lose him," she said. "I'm already in too deep."

"Just give him time," Christine said. "If he's as good of a guy as you say he is, then I'm sure it'll work out."

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

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[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Ties That Bind - Part 2: A Place In The Clouds

Characters: (AU: first names are as in the show renaming a few last names to fit my story): Reader (Y/N Harvelle), Crowley McCloud (mentioned), Castiel Novak, Claire Stanford, Pamela Barnes (mentioned), Charlie Bradbury, Chuck Shurley (mentioned), Gabriel Benedict (mentioned), Meg Masters, Ben Braeden, Dean Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Bela Lafitte (mentioned), DJ Lafitte (OC-mentioned), Jimmy (OC), Oscar (OC)  

Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually)

Warnings: Mention of abuse, mention of rape, mention of incest, mention of phedofilia, (none of these are graphic or dwelled on but they are part of the kid’s history), language, violence, use of weapons (knife and gun)   

Word Count: 4500ish

A/N: Thanks to @blacktithe7 for betaing and helping me rework this series.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

MASTERLIST

McCloud’s was made up of 5 buildings scattered around a small piece of land up on the hill just outside of town. It wasn’t further away than the kids could ride their bikes to school or to go shopping, but it was out of the way enough for a social workers to keep some level of control over who was coming and going, which was often important when dealing with kids from abusive homes. Each of the houses were named after parts of a ship. Crowley’s idea, and you had never gotten why, just accepted it for a fact.

A week after Ben’s arrest you were walking from the parking lot, passing the Deck and Beam, like you did every day coming to work. Those were the houses where the younger kids usually lived. There were exceptions when siblings were housed at The Clouds. The Clouds was the kid’s nickname for the home, and all of the social workers had taken to using it too. The kids that were housed in the Deck were babies and toddlers, and they weren’t there for long. The kids in the Beam were around 4-10 years old, and they only stayed at The Clouds for a year tops. It was one of the state rules. Kids that age had to be placed within a foster home or a permanent group home within a year. The Clouds was not a permanent home. It was a midway house for kids and teens. You accepted kids with a 3 hour notice. One social worker picked them up at hospitals or police stations while another made rooms ready for them. Your job was ever changing, and that was how you liked it, even if saying goodbye to the kids never because easier.

You continued through the big yard that all the houses shared. Too your left was the Bridge, and to you right was the Bow. Both of these houses were for tweens and teens. You worked at the Bow alongside Cas, Pamela, Gabriel, Charlie, and Chuck. Each house had 6 social workers and some temps to help out when needed. How the workload was divided differed from house to house, but at the Bow, you had chosen to team up in pairs. Each kid was assigned a primary and secondary social worker when they arrived at The Clouds, and if you were assigned primary, Cas would be your secondary and vice versa. Same went for Charlie and Chuck, and Gabe and Pamela.

Everyone looked after all the kids in the house when they were at work off course, but the primary and secondary assigned to the kid in question were the ones that handled meetings, parent contact, school functions and so on. It was Crowley’s idea that you paired up male and female to give the kids a sense of family, but who you had chosen to pair with he had left up to you. Gabe was good at keeping Pamela’s temper in check, and she was great at grounding him a bit. Charlie was outgoing and bubbly, which was a great counter to the more shy and collected Chuck. Cas was the reason and logic to your emotion and strong will. The six of you worked well together, and The Bow was the only house with no drama amongst the staff.

Right between the Bridge and Bow was the Lighthouse. The Lighthouse was where Crowley lived and worked. It was his home as well as the administrational building where all meetings were held. You had always loved that he cared enough to stay at the Clouds. He was always there, day or night, whenever his staff needed him. He knew all the kids by name, and even though he scared some of them a little, he was a good man. He fought for the kids under his roof, and he respected the people he had working for him and valued their opinions.

The Bow was quiet when you walked through the doors. Most of the kids were at school, and the rest were probably of with Pamela for the day. You made your way down the hallway passed the kids rooms and to the office.. It was empty when you walked in. Maybe Cas was running late? You put your coat and your bag in your locker before locking the office up behind you and walking back up the hall and towards the kitchen and the living room.

“Hello Y/N.” You jumped at the voice behind you and swiftly twirled around and hit his arm.

“Damnit Cas! Don’t do that,” you hissed at him.

Cas just smirked and walked passed you, putting the folder he was carrying down on the kitchen counter. “You scare to easy, Y/N.”

“No, I don’t,” you protested and frowned. “Where did you come from anyway? I was just in the office?”

“I was over at the Lighthouse. Crowley called a few minutes ago. The police report is in.” Cas stopped and looked at you. “You are not going to like it Y/N.”

You flew across the room and grabbed the folders on the counter. “They don’t believe her? How can they not. She was covered in bruises and…”

Cas walked around the counter and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “There was no evidence of sexual assault the night she ran, and they are saying since she is 16  - 15 at the time, it is not uncommon for her not to be a virgin. Plus she has a history of lying about…”

“She wasn’t lying, Cas. She named the wrong person, and yes that was dumb, but she was scared. Everything she said happened back then did happen. It just wasn’t her teacher that raped her. It was her dad.”

You were furious. You knew the police report would carry a lot of weight with the county, and this was going to make your job a hell of a lot harder. You couldn’t let them send her back home. You knew you couldn’t make these cases personal, but this one was. Claire had gotten through your layer of professionalism. She was like a little sister to you and you couldn’t let her get hurt anymore.

Cas reached out to you and pulled you into a tight hug. “I know. Crowley talked to Meg. She is going to drag out the psych eval for a bit. Buy us sometime. Claire is not going anywhere today. None of us are going to let that happen. We got your back – all of us.”

You took a deep breath before pulling away and drying your eyes. “Okay what is our game plan here?”

Almost a year ago today, you had picked up Claire at the hospital. She had been treated for broken ribs and a split lip. When the doctor had asked her who had done it, she had said it was her father. After the police had interviewed her, they had called The Clouds, asking them to take her in. Claire had been your first case as a primary, and it had taken a lot of work to get her to open up to you, but she finally had. She had told you about how her father had come into her room every night ever since she turned 12. She had told you about his treats and the beatings that had gotten worse when she began to fight back. The night she had found her way to the hospital, she had kicked him in the nuts and managed to get away. She had pleaded with you to make sure she would never have to go back there, and you had promised her you would do everything you could to make sure that never happened. The police report in front of you did not make it easier for you to keep your promise.

***

You breathed a sigh of relief when you walked out through the doors of city hall and into the fresh afternoon spring air. The war was not yet won, but this battle was. The county social workers had agreed to let Claire stay at The Clouds for another 6 weeks to give Meg Masters, the psychiatrist that worked most of your cases, time to finish her eval on Claire. Having her there today had really helped. You were grateful to her for dropping everything when Crowley had called. She had showed up at the meeting, fighting for Claire alongside you and Cas against the two bull headed cops, who had written the report clearing Claire’s father of any wrong doings.

Meg smiled at you as she walked up beside you. “Well fought Y/N. You are getting good at this.”

You smiled back at her, grateful for her compliment. Your eyes wandered back to City Hall and to Cas, who was still behind the glass doors, finishing up some paper work. “Well I did have a great teacher.”

Your eyes found Meg’s again, and a slight blush showed on her cheeks. You knew she and Cas liked each other, but neither of them had the guts to ask the other out.

“Yes you have,” she quickly agreed before hugging you. “Say goodbye to him for me. I need to get back to the hospital and my clients.”

You smiled as you watched Meg hurry back towards her car, and you jumped for the second time that day when Cas’ disappointed voice sounded behind you. “She was off in a hurry.”

“Damnit Castiel!” You slapped his arm and fought to hold back a laugh. “I am going to put nails in your shoes or something. You move like a damn cat.”

“Sorry,” he grinned at you. “So we still have a few hours left of our shift. I was thinking about going down to see Ben at juvie. Do you wanna come, or do you want me to drop you off at The Clouds on my way so you can finish up the paperwork on Claire?”

Cas was primary on Ben Braeden, but the two of you tended to do everything together if you could get away with it. You didn’t need Cas to tag along with you everywhere anymore. He certainly didn’t need you, but you worked well as a team, and you both preferred it that way.

“I would love to come. I got a morning shift tomorrow so I can finish up while the kids are at school.”

Cas smiled at your words. “I was hoping you would say that.”

***

Seeing Ben had brought a lot of mixed emotions to the surface. You knew juvie was the worst place in the world for a kid like him. There would be way too many kids there trying to influence him and turn him into the kind of person he easily could become but really wasn’t. Ben never hurt anyone on purpose. He was a gently, kind boy who desperately needed a male role model in his life. He needed someone who would tell him he was doing right and that he could look up too.

You hated seeing the black eye some kid had given him. He apologized to you and Cas over and over, even though you both insisted he didn’t have too. You both wanted him to focus himself and keeping his nose clean. The two of you would get him back home after the hearing in a few weeks.

“You go sign us out,” Cas nodded towards the office around the corner. “I’ll call Meg and have her look in on him sometime this week. We could use her help at the hearing.”

“Sure you could,” you teased, and Cas immediately pulled a face at you.

“Would you stop that? There is nothing going on between the two of us.”

“I know there isn’t, but there should be.” You winked and smiled when you saw Cas blush, and you left him speechless as you headed down the hall and around the corner towards the office.

You weren’t really paying attention to where you were going. So when you felt like you ran into a brick wall, you dropped all of your folders and let out a small yelp. You started apologizing until you looked up and realized who the man you had collided with was.

“YOU?!”

***

Dean’s PoV

“Are you coming over tonight? DJ misses his uncle.” Benny grabbed his jacket from the chair and stopped to look at his partner who was just finishing up some paper work.

Dean looked up and smiled. “Not tonight buddy. I promised my dad I would stop by and help him get his old truck running, and I am thinking I might drop in on that Braeden kid on my way there.”

Benny frowned as he tried to recall the name. “You mean that kid who pulled a gun on you at the convenient store last week?” Benny smiled when Dean nodded. “Wow, that social worker chick really did a number on you brother.”

Dean was taken aback by Benny’s words, and his jaw dropped. “What? No. Are you kidding me? She was rude and bossy and she…”

“…was damn hot.” Benny finished Dean’s sentence, making him smile.

“Yeah well… It is not about her. It’s the kid. She said he was easy to influence, and he just seemed scared more than anything else. Nothing like the other two.”

Dean got up and grabbed his jacket, and Benny quickly followed him as they headed for the door. “So she said that did she?” His partner kept teasing him, and Dean shot him a glare.

“Would you stop that? A chick like that is way too much work. Besides she hates me.”

Benny sent his partner a big grin as they separated, each heading for their cars. “Oh believe me. They are worth it.”

Dean laughed, shaking his head and yelled after Benny before he got in the car. “Tell Bela and the kid I said hey.”

***

A few minutes later, Dean arrived at juvie, and he was greeted by the guard in the sign in office and put his name in the day book. Just as he turned around, she rounded the corner and ran straight into him. “Oh I am so sorry. I didn’t see….” She looked up and her eyes met his. “YOU?! What are you doing here?!”

There was something about her. She pushed all of his buttons, but he still felt drawn to her.

“Same as you I suspect,” Dean tried to keep his voice calm in spite of her rude greeting. “My job.”

She huffed and squatted down and started to gather up her papers, and Dean did the same in effort to help her. “What does that mean?”

Dean handed her back some of her papers and reached out to help her back up, but she brushed off his hand.

“It means that you cops only worry about the kids you lock up when you want something from them.”

Dean raised his brows and stared at her. Damn she was infuriating, but there was also something else. Something about the curve of her lips and the spark in her eyes that made him wanna reach out and pull her in for a bruising kiss. He fought the urge, and instead, he snapped back at her.

“Us cops huh? So you know me because you know what I do for a living?”

“Yes,” she raised her voice a little, and she didn’t back down. Actually, she took a step closer to him, and Dean had to admit he was a little impressed by her gumption even though her words pissed him off. “You have a motive for being here. You are not turning Ben into some snitch. He deserves to have a life.”

“You know what Miss Bleeding Heart, if he wanted to work for me, that would be his call. Not yours,” Dean snapped at her.

He had no idea why he said what he did. He had no intention of asking Ben to inform for him, but this Harvelle girl just had a way of making him lose his head.

“Don’t call me that. You are a cocky jerk cop who thinks he can do whatever he wants, because he is hiding behind a damn badge.”

She was full on yelling at him now and Dean was just about to open his mouth and bite back at her when a man appeared behind her. He quickly grabbed her arm and nodded at Dean before dragging her with him out of there, “Crowley called we are needed back to The Clouds.”

Dean turned around and looked after them. He saw how she shook herself loose of the guy’s grip and he could tell by her body language she wasn’t much happier with that guy right now than she was with him. Dean’s eyes rested on her form. Her long Y/H/C hair that she had tied into a ponytail and the way her hips swayed when she walked. Maybe Benny had been right? Maybe she was worth the fight? Dean couldn’t help but smile when he remembered the way she had looked at him when he stripped of his jacket and shirt in front of her to get his west on. She liked him. Or she would if she would just give him half a chance. Maybe someday she would. Dean admired her that was for sure. She was infuriation and stubborn as hell but she was courageous. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had spoken to him like that. Much less a girl.

Your PoV

“What did Crowley want?” You shook free of Cas’ grip when you were halfway down the hall, and Cas just stared back at you.

“Nothing. I haven’t spoken to him. I was saving you from making an enemy out of a cop. They might be jerks, but we need them, and you know that.” Cas scolded you, and your eyes narrowed.

“Castiel you can’t be serious. That guy put Ben in here. He doesn’t belong here.” you snapped at him as you followed him out the door, and Cas turned to look at you.

“I know that. But that cop… Detective Winchester, doesn’t. And you pissing him off is not going to help Ben’s case. He could be useful to have in our corner at the hearing, or at the very least, not fighting against us. Judges tend to listen to the cop that had a gun pointed at their face.”

You huffed, but you knew Cas was right. So you backed down a little. “He calls me a bleeding heart. He is a jerk with a badge.”

Cas smiled as he opened the car door for you. “Well you are. We all are, and what was it you said about me and Meg? Maybe you should make up an excuse to call that detective of yours?”

Your eyes opened wide, and your jaw dropped. “Have you lost your mind Cas. I can’t stand the guy.”

Cas let out a heartfelt laugh as he headed around the car to the driver’s seat. “Sure you can’t.”

A week later

It was a Saturday night, and most of the kids were out. Claire, Jimmy. and Alex were the only ones left at your house. The Deck and The Beam had quieted down for the night, and The Bridge seemed quiet too. You assumed the social worker’s had taken their group out for a weekend or day trip or something, because you hadn’t seen much of them all day.

Cas was down in Jimmy’s room playing some game on his laptop and you and the girls were in the kitchen baking and fooling around. You loved nights like this. Quiet and normal. Just what most of these kids needed. You smiled to yourself as you watched the girls fight over the recipe.

“If you two don’t stop that, I am going to start throwing flour,” you warned them, and they both laughed and pulled faces at you.

All of a sudden the front door slammed, and you jumped in front of both the girls instinctively. Oscar, a new 17 year old boy from The Bridge, stumbled through the door. At 5’9” and around 200 lbs, Oscar was a big guy. His pupils were dilated, and he was clearly on something. He stormed towards you before coming to a halt a few feet away.

“I need money!”

“Girls go to your rooms,” you quickly ordered them. Claire started to protest, but you shoved her towards the hall as you repeat yourself. Finally she followed Alex down the hall, but she passed her room.

“I need money!” Oscar repeated as he grabbed a knife and pointed it at you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You didn’t allow yourself to feel anything. Your only job was to keep the other kids safe. You knew you couldn’t get to the safe without walking past all of the kids rooms, and you couldn’t risk one of the girls, Jimmy, or Cas surprising him. You needed to try to reason with him.

“Oscar I can’t give you any. You know that. If you need money you need to talk to the staff at The Bridge.” Your efforts didn’t help, and the boy stepped closer, still pointing the knife at you.

“I will cut you bitch. I need cash now.”

“Okay...” You held your hands up in defense. “I can see that. Why don’t you tell me what you need it for, and I will see what I can do?” you offered, but Oscar just swung the knife at you. You jumped backwards, barely avoiding the reach of the blade.

“None of your damn business you cow. You just need to pay me now.”

Your new position allowed you a better view of the hallway, and you saw Cas slowly approaching the kitchen, nodding at you to keep the kid distracted. So you did. “Okay. Oscar, right?”

“What does my name matter?” the kid stormed forward just as Cas jumped, grabbing his legs and pulling him down with him.

You reacted fast, kicking the boy’s wrist hard enough to make him drop the knife. Cas struggled with him for a while before he got him wrestled into a lock on the floor, just as you turned back around from picking up the knife.

“Call 911.” Cas ordered, and you ran down the hall where Claire was hiding.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go to my room. I thought if I got Cas… I was afraid he was going to hurt you so….”

You smiled at her the best you could and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You did good sweetie. But I need you to go to your room and stay there until Cas or I come for you okay?”

Claire nodded and ran down the hall just as you hurried into the office and picked up the phone.

Dean’s PoV

Dean and Benny had been heading back towards the station when they responded to the call. It would usually have been a job for one of the uniformed officers and not a detective, but they were less than five minutes out, so Dean had turned the car and sped up the hill towards The Clouds.

Y/N had greeted them at the door, and Dean knew it was serious when she completely ignored the fact that he was the one responding to the call. She just led them through the house where the other social worker Dean had seen at juvie a week ago was holding down huge kid who was clearly high off his ass. Dean didn’t give it a second thought – he jumped to the man’s aid, and together they got him wrestled off his side and onto his stomach; into Dean’s cuffs while Benny had his gun pulled, ready to respond in case the kid slipped out of their holds.

“Nice work.” Dean applauded the dark haired social worker as they helped each other pull the screaming and struggling kid onto his feet. As soon as he was up, Benny took over from the guy and gave Dean a quick nod when the sirens sounded outside. Benny led the kid, quiet forcefully, out the door and towards the newly arrived patrol car.

“So you wanna give me a speech as to why I shouldn’t arrest that kid too?” Dean turned his attention towards Y/N, but when he saw how pale she was, he could have bit his tongue. The dark haired social worker rushed to her side and helped her onto the couch before he sent Dean a hard glare.

“Back off a little would you?”

Dean nodded, bowing his head in guilt as he sat down in front of them. “I’m sorry.” He caught her eye, and when she just nodded, Dean really wanted to kick himself. He should have known better than to speak to a victim like that. He turned his attention to the man. “I don’t think we have met. I am Detective Dean Winchester.” Dean held out his hand and the man took it.

“Castiel Novak.”

Dean sent both of them a reassuring smile. “Okay Y/N and Castiel, I need you guys to tell me what happened tonight. Just take your time. I am not in a hurry.”

Dean stayed and listened for the better part of an hour, and the more Y/N and Castiel talked, the more he hated himself for his behavior earlier. When he was finishing up the interview, another social worker Castiel had called earlier to relieve them arrived. She ran right up to Castiel and Y/N and threw her arms around their necks.

“Thank God you two are alright.”

“We’re fine Charlie.” Dean watched Y/N send the red haired woman a weak smile. “Thank you for coming in. I just need to check up on Claire, and then I am heading home. Are we done here?” She returned her attention to Dean. He looked up to check in with Benny who nodded back at him.

“I finished interviewing the kids so if you’re…” Benny let his words trail out, and Dean returned his attention to Y/N.

He sent her a warm smile and nodded. “We’re done. If any of you remember anything else…” Dean pulled out two cards from his wallet and handed them to Y/N and Castiel, “don’t hesitate to call.”

Y/N nodded. She was still pale when she got off the couch and headed down the hallway. Dean and Castiel stood too, and together with Benny, they headed for the door.

“Don’t let her be alone tonight,” Dean spoke as he shook Castiel’s hand. “When the shock subsides, she is going to need a friend.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Castiel promised, and Dean’s heart sank a little as he couldn’t help but wonder if there was any hidden meaning behind those words. Dean nodded again before following Benny back to his car, silently wishing he could have been the one to be there for her tonight.

Dean Tag Team

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TTB Tag Team

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[illuminating-dragons]

In Name

Summary:  With Chuck and Amara made up, Sam, Dean and Cas decide to take a vacation. But on their way back, they find a case, and it hits close to home.

Note: Sequel to In Vain (on AO3 only)

Word Count: 10, 810

           Dean looked up in shock as the dark and light clouds intermingled. There was a rumble, and he was standing in another place, with Sam and Cas beside him.

           “Dean?!”

Sam grabbed him first, hugging him tight as he could. Dean patted his back. “Okay, Sammy. Okay.”

           And somehow it was, after all. Somehow Amara and Chuck…they’d decided not to fight. They’d decided to be family instead. And Dean had somehow convinced them to do that.

           That was pretty awesome.

           So was the next moment, when Sam let go of him and Cas dragged him into a kiss that sent his head spinning. He clutched at Cas’ coat to stay upright, but Cas pulled him closer.

           Dean broke away at last. “Oxygen, babe, oxygen.”

           “Irrelevant.”

It was almost as hard to breathe now, clutched against Cas’ chest. But that didn’t really matter. He was alive, he was with his family…amazing.

“Um, can we have a group hug?”

Cas let go of Dean just long enough to drag Sam in too. “Of course.”

“This is a lot of hugging,” Dean complained.

“You admitted it about the chick-flick moments, dude. You can’t go back from that.”

Dean could feel Cas’ laugh, and he could barely manage a muttered ‘shut up’. Barely wanted to, honestly.

Something in the air shifted, and Cas stopped laughing. “Father.”

Dean looked up. Chuck was there, Amara beside him. They were both smiling hugely.

“Wait, I thought you guys were going to like…bond and stuff,” Dean said, confused.

“We did. Three millennia.” Amara looked more relaxed than Dean had ever seen her. She was wearing a bright flowered dress now, her nails multicoloured and her hair up in a bun.

“It’s only been five minutes,” Dean replied.

“Well of course!” Chuck looked surprised. “We just went to another dimension. We’ve got a lot of work to do here. I didn’t want to leave you in the lurch here.”

“Wait.” Sam looked at Dean. “What did happen?”

Dean thought about how to explain it best. “They’re family.”

“Oh. Okay, great!” Sam smiled at Chuck, and nodded a bit nervously to Amara. “I’m happy for you.”

“Sorry about trying to kill you, Sam.” Amara looked genuinely regretful.

“Eh, it’s alright. It’s happened.”

Dean pressed his lips together. “Not funny, Sammy.”

“It’s hilarious.” Sam grinned at him.

“Children,” Chuck scolded.

Amara looked at Cas next. “And nephew…I didn’t want to damage you, did I—”

“No. You never touched me. Lucifer kept any reverberations from my Grace.”

“Assbutt wouldn’t have had to if he hadn’t worn you to prom.”

“Lucifer will be dealt with,” Chuck promised. His voice was softer than Amara’s. “I caused a great deal of his problems, and I let him run amuck. He will be punished, but when that is done, if he seeks forgiveness he will be granted it.”  

“I don’t mind.” Dean was shocked to hear that from Sam.

“Wait, really?”

“Is he ever going to be able to hurt me or my family again?” Sam asked.

“No.” It was Amara who said that, and Chuck nodded.

“Then I don’t care. Just make sure of that.” Sam paused. “Please.”

“We can do you one better,” Chuck said. He reached towards Sam. Sam tensed, but allowed Chuck to touch his face. Dean saw the hurt bleeding out of his brother, saw him calm. Sam pressed a hand to his stomach, stared at Chuck in wonder.

“You needed to be healed, Sam. And I’m sorry it didn’t come sooner.”

“That’s okay,” Sam managed. He was trembling now, but smiling, and Dean’s heart ached. He hadn’t seen Sammy smile like that in years.

Amara reached out to Cas. “Here, nephew. Your wings are hurt.”

There was a flash of light—so bright Dean couldn’t look—and Cas stood tall, looking as surprised as Sam. “Thank you, Aunt.”

“It’s the least I could do, Castiel.”

“We’ll deal with Heaven too, Cas.” Chuck looked more relaxed now. “Your brothers and sisters will understand what you have done and why, and they will welcome you home. You won’t be living there, though.”

Cas looked stricken, but Dean’s heart was pounding. Did Chuck mean…

“You’re welcome to visit, but I have a very important mission for you. I believe two men need a guardian angel. Can you follow orders this time, Castiel?” Chuck’s eyes were dancing, and Sam laughed.

“I think Dean needs him more than I do.”

           “Neither of you are good at taking care of yourselves,” Cas contradicted him. “I’m happy to guard you both. I will follow orders, Father.”

           “It’ll be great to have you Cas.” Sam smirked. “And you can have Dean’s back. Or have him on his back.”

           Dean blushed. “Damn it, Sammy, you can’t just—”

           “Seven years. Seven years, Dean.”

           “To be fair I was dead for some of that time,” Cas pointed out.

           “And we were in Purgatory.”

           “See I figured that would help. Just you, Cas, Benny and endless woods.”

           “Not to mention endless monsters.”

           “We have to go,” Amara interrupted. “Heaven is calling, as is Hell.”

           “Right, sister, of course.” Chuck put his hand on Cas’ shoulder for a moment, and father and son shared a long look. Cas drew in a sharp breath.

           “You should tell them.”

           “No, you go ahead. You deserve to.” Chuck stepped back and took Amara’s hand. “Farewell, Team Free Will. We may see you again.” The two dissolved into clouds again, and this time Dean watched as they went into the sky once more.

           Sam let out a huge breath. “That was…wow.”

           “Awesome,” Dean agreed. “Cas, what did he tell you?”

           He was struck by the light in his—boyfriend? Lover?—his Cas’ eyes.

           “My Father has decided to return some people to Earth.”

           Dean’s heart started pounding. “Some people?”

           “Your family. Your friends. Several other innocents who have died.”

           “R-really?” Sam’s smile grew bigger, somehow.

           “Yes. It will take time, and some…negotiation with the Reapers. But they will return.”

           “They’re coming back?” Mom was the first one who popped into Dean’s head. And Bobby, Charlie, Kevin, Ellen, Jo, Ash…

           “Yes, dearest. All of them.”

           Dean couldn’t speak. He pulled Cas and Sam into his arms, and let the relief of the Darkness’ presence being gone, of not having the Mark, of the world maybe, maybe being safe for the first time from powers beyond their pay grade.

           “So you’re good with the group hugs now?” Sam asked, his voice muffled.

           “Shut up, bitch.”

           “Jerk.”

           When they pulled apart at last, they looked around themselves properly for the first time. Dean recognized it—it was a road about forty-five minutes outside of Lebanon. Baby was there too, parked and gleaming in the sunshine.

           “Let’s go home,” Dean said. “We’ve got work to do.”

“Sammy, we’re back!”

           Sam looked up from the catalogue. “In the library!”

           It was four weeks after the sun was saved, and Sam had made a decent amount of progress. Going through the Bunker’s catalogue and making sure that they still had all the books (and that they were where they were supposed to be) wasn’t so hard, but digitizing the books was taking longer. It wasn’t just that finding a good scanner and filling out enough fake credit card applications that he could buy one (and then drive two hours to pick it up) took time, but he kept getting distracted. There was so much new information here, and some of the books were so interesting that he ended up reading several chapters instead of scanning the pages.

           Not that it really mattered. The others would be here soon, and Sam knew that Charlie for sure would be really into this part.

           It still blew Sam away that people were really coming back. But it was happening; Cas had gone to visit Heaven once a week, and each time he reported on the progress with bringing their family back. To their surprise, Billie had agreed to let it happen. The real trick was balancing the energies of souls leaving Heaven. Cas had attempted to explain until Sam and Dean had begged him to stop.

           In the end, the solution was just to have two people come back at a time. It wasn’t just their family; there were other people coming back (Sam wanted to know how they were going to explain that, but Cas asked, and the response to that hurt his head even more). So it would take time, but Chuck promised that by the end of six months, their entire family would be home. They had a list of names, and a letter signed by all of the returning saying they were happy to come home, yes they knew everything, and that they didn’t want to hear any damn apologies.

           (That particular statement had been bolded, underlined, circled and initialed by all).

           So the three of them had been a little bit at a loss the first few weeks. Sure, it was great to sleep in and watch crappy Netflix (and good Netflix) and finally get around to organizing the Bunker, but something stopped them from getting too deeply into any project.

           For the first time, they could plan projects and know that people were going to be there to help contribute. And there were no major bad guys to deal with, either. In fact, the supernatural world had been very quiet lately (Crowley had called late one night and muttered something about Hell being back under control, and Rowena chimed in that the ‘Mega-Coven’ was finally getting off the ground).  

           Dean’s solution was to start setting up rooms. He’d cleaned Kevin and Charlie’s room and bought them some updated geek gear, and set aside rooms for the other people coming home who’d never seen the Bunker. Cas had been darting in and out with groceries, making sure they were fully stocked. He’d also disappeared into the store rooms a few times, and apart from a couple of crashes there’d been a lot of progress. There were now neat notecards for three shelves of artifacts. Only seventy-five to go, but they’d be there to take care of that.

           And so were the others.

           Dean and Cas came in, holding hands. Sam still wasn’t used to that; he was partly sure he was dreaming. But it was real, Dean and Cas were smiling and happy, very much in love, and there was so much less eyesex. And Cas had even soundproofed their room after that one time.

           “What you reading?”

           “Treatise on church use in hunting,” Sam said. “Looks like we weren’t the first to take advantage of sacred ground to kill a ghost.”

           “Probably the first to kill a racist possessed truck though, right?”

           “So far, yeah.” Sam put the book down. “So what did you two get up to?”

           Dean opened his mouth and Sam inserted hastily “that I want to hear.”

           “Child,” Dean sniffed. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

           “Yes you do.”

           Dean shrugged. “Whatever. We mostly just drove, and we had an idea.”

           “We want to go for a road trip, Sam.” Cas said. “One without a hunt. Dean was telling me about the times you went as young adults, and they sound fun. I’m also eager to see more of the country than several thousand Biggersons.”

           “Oh, that’s a great idea!” Sam ignored the disappointment in his chest. Some quiet might be nice, after all. “Where are you thinking?”

           “Well, obviously we want to be home for—well, when everyone starts to come back. So not far. Maybe down to California? Go to the beach?”

           “Yeah. I can give you a list of great places there.” He’d travelled a lot with Jess the summer before their fourth year.

           “Cool. Go start packing, I’m making burgers.”

           “Oh. What?”

           “Do you not want to come?”

           “I thought you meant you and Cas. Like a…a romantic trip or something.”

           “And leave you alone? Sammy, you won’t get fresh air if we leave you.” Dean smiled fondly at Cas. “He’s like a puppy. He forgets how doors work.”

           “Bite me.” Sam straightened the treatise. “I don’t know, I just thought…”

           “We need a Team Free Will trip before we do anything else.” Dean’s face softened. “It’s been a rough few years for all three of us. It’d be nice to have a break.”

           “Sounds good.” Sam stood. “So burgers?”

           “Yup. And fries. I got some potatoes and I’m gonna make some from scratch. Now go get packed. We’re gonna leave early tomorrow morning.”

           Cas smiled at the desk agent. “Two rooms, please.”

           It was nearing sunset, and they’d finally found a hotel. Cas had rejected every motel they’d driven by. This was a vacation, not a hunt, and they weren’t staying anywhere that didn’t have at least three stars.

           If Cas had his way, they’d never stay in a motel ever again, but Sam and Dean had their habits.

           “That’s our last two,” the woman said cheerfully. As she was cutting the keycards, her eyes looked over to Sam and Dean. “Are you three reporters?”

           “No,” Cas replied politely. “We’re just on vacation.”

           “You didn’t look like reporters,” the woman admitted. She handed him the keys. “But that’s all that’s been in today.”

           “Really? What about?”

           The woman leaned forward. “Well, it’s kind of sad, actually. There’s been two deaths in Joshua. It’s not far from here, but it’s such a little town there’s nowhere to stay there.”

           “I am sorry to hear that,” Cas said. And he was, for more reason than one. “Why all of the media interest in this tragedy?”

           “There hasn’t been a murder in Joshua. Like, ever. And two so close together?”

           Cas swallowed. “Has this been on the news?”

           The woman handed him a newspaper. “The first one happened last week, and the second was three days ago.”

           “Thank you.” Cas took a glance at the first few paragraphs. He fought the urge to slam the paper down, to burn it.

           This was supposed to be a vacation.

           When he rejoined the brothers, he was tempted to say nothing. But of course, Dean could tell something was wrong.

           “What is it Cas? Not enough rooms?”

           “No, no. Come on, they’re next door to each other.”

           “How next door?” Sam asked.

           Dean glared at him. “We’re not that loud.”

           “I didn’t say you were loud. I said I could hear you.”

           Cas let his thoughts wander as they bickered. Perhaps it was only a serial killer—well, serial was three, so a double murderer. Perhaps there was nothing supernatural about it.

           But as they’d been driving he’d felt a bit of a tug in his Grace, a warning. He’d prayed about it, and his Father had answered for once. It hadn’t been helpful.

           Let it happen, Castiel.

           Because that, of course, wasn’t mildly terrifying at all.

           Threats to come up to Heaven and demand answers hadn’t provoked his Father, but there was no further information.

           Cas knew he was being selfish. He just wanted to be able to relax with his mate and his best friend. To spend some time with them in peace after all of the forces that had tried to pull them apart. Apparently that was asking too much.

           When Dean put a hand on his neck, he jumped.

           “Babe,” Dean said seriously. “Can we go inside?”

           Cas realized he was frowning at a hotel door. Sam looked concerned.

           “Sorry.” He swiped the key and entered.

           It was a nice room, clean with two queen beds. Cas put his bag down and Dean did the same.

           “Can I have my room key, Cas?” Sam asked softly.

           “In a second, Sammy. Cas, what’s wrong? Did the desk lady say something to upset you?”

           Cas took Dean’s hand. “No, dearest. Well, she did, but not intentionally.”

           “Cas…”

           Cas handed Dean the newspaper. The article was splashed all over the front page, and Sam stood over Dean’s shoulder to read it.

           “Well that sucks.” Then Dean read the article again. “Wait a minute.”

           Cas groaned. He wasn’t a very good hunter, but even he’d noticed the pattern.

           “That looks like a woman in white,” Sam said. “Look; both men’s bodies were found by the highway, leading out to an abandoned house.”

           “It may not be,” Cas said. “The desk agent says there hadn’t been a murder in fifty years. Isn’t that odd for a woman in white?”

           “Not necessarily.” Sam was now deep in thought. “They don’t have to kill all the time. Maybe there aren’t a lot of unfaithful dudes in this town.”

           Dean noticed the trouble in Cas’ face. “Cas? What’s wrong? This is just a ghost, we’ve done this a lot.”

           “I was hoping we would be taking a vacation.” Cas sighed. “I didn’t want the supernatural to intrude upon that.”

           “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, honey.”

           “Don’t be ridiculous.” Cas got himself under control. “We can’t allow people to suffer when we can help.” He touched Dean’s face. “Besides, I want to practice hunting more anyways.”

           Sam laughed. “You did a pretty decent job last time, Cas.”

           “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Cas? You look worried.”

           He’d promised not to lie to Dean anymore. “I feel like something is going to happen. Something bad.”

           “Has your—has Chu—has anyone said anything?”

           “He told me to let it happen. Which means that it can’t be that bad, because he promised you two would be okay. Perhaps it’s just going to end up with one of you injured. Again.”

           “Yeah, but my angel can heal us,” Dean said with a grin. “Remember? It won’t be like before.”

           That made something in Cas’ heart unclench. All those years of sitting helpless as Sam and Dean suffered, unable to heal them fully, unable to shoulder their pain…those were over too.

           Adjusting to good things was sometimes just as hard as adjusting to bad.

           “You’re right. Joshua isn’t far from here, and we’ll have a couple of days before we have to drive home.”

           Dean grinned. “Exactly. It’ll be good to get an old-fashioned one under our belts, anyways.”

           Cas tried to be positive through the rest of the night, eating room service and watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine before Sam went to bed. Dean was tired, and they exchanged only a few kisses before he fell asleep.

           Cas had no need to sleep, and as he held Dean against his chest he looked up at the ceiling. Father, please answer me. Please don’t make me lose them.

           There was silence for a while, and then: let it happen, Castiel.

         “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Grant.”

           Dean was sitting on a porch in Joshua, feeling much more awkward than usual. He’d gotten used to dealing with grieving people over the years, though it was never easy. But this man’s grief was radiating from him with an intensity Dean had never seen before.

           “I appreciate the condolences, Mr. Novak.” Eric Grant was in his early sixties, but Dean guessed that without grief weighing him down, he wouldn’t look a day over forty-five. Far too young to bury a child.

           “So you were sent by which paper again?”

           “It’s a blog, actually. My brother likes to write about California small towns, and he’s always hated the fact that crimes go cold in small towns because of lack of interest.”

           Mr. Grant sighed. “My wife died when my boys were young. It’s always been the three of us. I thought it always would be.”

           “And your son James was the first…the first man who died?”

           “Yes. He was such a good kid. Always loved tinkering with things.” There was a momentary expression of pride on his face. “He got out of here, you know. Made it all the way to college. But he came back to visit me and his brother every chance he could.”

           “Did he ever have a girlfriend?”

           “No, but he’s had a few boyfriends.” Eric looked him in the eye. “Got a problem with that?”

           “No sir,” Dean promised. “I’ve got a boyfriend of my own.”

           Eric relaxed. “I never had a problem either. Some people in this town did, but they came around eventually, or I knew the reasons why.”

           “Was he dating anyone…recently?”

           “Nope. There’s not a lot of out people around here, and James was here all summer. He broke up with his last boyfriend a few months ago because he wanted to come home, and Buck didn’t want to follow.” Eric’s eyes filled with tears. “And he came home to…”

           Dean winced. “His story will be told, sir. And I promise the answer will be found.”

           “I appreciate that.” Eric rocked back in his chair for a minute. When he’d regained composure, he said, “may as well get it over with. What do you want to know about Tyler?”

           “Tyler Thompson?” Dean asked in surprise. “Did you know him?”

           Eric narrowed his eyes. “Of course I do. He is—was—my younger son.”

                                                    ************

           “So Tyler changed his name when you got married?” Sam asked. He and Cas exchanged a look.

           Rita Thompson was wrapped in a too-big robe, holding a too-big mug in shaking fingers. She was still crying, she hadn’t stopped since they’d come in the house. Her daughter slept in a bassinet on the counter, arms around a purple dog.

           “Yes,” Rita answered at last. “I didn’t want to change mine, and he respected that. But he said he wanted to—he wanted to show the world he was mine. So he was Tyler Thompson, and our daughter has my name.”

           “Tyler sounds like a great guy.”

           “He really was. He was the best man I’ve ever known. He was always so gentle, but strong too. He could lift me over his head, and that’s high.”

           Sam had noticed the doors when they came in; he hadn’t had to duck. “Did he build this house?”

           That brought a small smile. “He just adjusted all the doors. He was six-five. He said he was sorry when Jill was born—she was almost eleven pounds, and he was worried she’d inherited his height.” The tears were still flowing, slow and steady. Sam remembered crying like that after Jess died, endless tears for three days while Dean took care of him. After that, he lost the ability to cry that long.

           “Rita?”

           Sam looked up. Another man had just come in the back door, a little bit shorter than Cas. Cas tensed beside Sam as the stranger pressed a kiss to Rita’s cheek.

           The newcomer looked at them coldly. “I swear to God, if you’re reporters—”

           “Isaac, don’t. They’re…they’re nice.” Rita patted his arm. “I promise.”

           Isaac still didn’t look friendly.

           “We can leave, if you want,” Cas offered. “I understand you need time as a family to grieve.”

           “Family?” Isaac’s stared at Rita. “Did you tell them?!”

           “No,” Rita whispered. “I didn’t.”

           Then Isaac seemed to deflate, sagging against the counter with his arm around Rita. “Guess I kind of did.” He glared at the two of them. “Don’t you fucking print this.”

           “Print…what?” Sam asked.

           Rita took Isaac’s hand. “We were all together. The three of us.”

           “Oh.” Sam took a second. “Did you change your name too, Isaac?”

           “No.” Isaac half-laughed. “Obviously we couldn’t all get married. And it was easier for Rita and Tyler; I have some…unpleasant family members. They wouldn’t like it if I suddenly married a man, and even Rita’s not right for them.”

           “I offend their racist sensibilities,” Rita explained. “ ‘Indian’s only one step up from a black woman,’ apparently.”

           Sam hadn’t even noticed, but now that she’d pointed it out he noticed the high cheekbones, the narrow brown eyes, the darker skin.  

           “I’m sorry for your loss, Isaac.”

           Isaac just nodded. He laid his cheek against Rita’s hair and closed his eyes.

           “Did anyone know about you three?”

           “We’ve tried to keep it quiet for Isaac’s sake,” Rita answered. Jill started to fuss, and Rita reached over, resettled the dog. “But Tyler’s dad knew, and some of my friends.”

           “Have you ever been publicly affectionate?” Cas asked.

           “Not really. Hugs, and that, but like I said, we’ve been quiet about it. Why do you ask?”

           To Sam’s surprise, Cas told the truth. Well, part of the truth.

           “Sam’s brother is my lover. He’s here as well, and…it’s always a risk, you know?”

           “Don’t worry about that around here,” Isaac said. “My family lives a ways away, and I don’t even think they’d be violent. The only reason I don’t tell them all to go to hell is that my dad would never let me see my mom again, and she’s sick. I don’t want to lose what time I have left with her. But you’ll be okay.”

           “Thank you.” Cas shook hands with both of them. “Do either of you need anything right now? Other than to be left to grieve in private?”

           Rita trembled and closed her eyes.

           “We’re alright,” Isaac said hoarsely. “At least we will be.”

           Sam took out one of his new cards. “Let us know if you need anything at all. We’ll probably be around a couple more days.”

           When they got outside, Sam took a deep breath, but the weight of Rita and Isaac’s grief still lingered. He was about to ask Cas what he thought about this development, when he got a text from Dean.

           They’re brothers.

           I know.

           Now what?

           Cas laid on the bed, newspapers spread out around him. There were only four newspapers in a twenty-mile radius, but they carried plenty of local gossip. But apart from an interesting article about a local beekeeper association, there was nothing relevant to him.

           Dean was sitting on the floor (he’d protested but Cas had really needed the full bed, if only for a moment), and he was on the phone with the morgue.

           “Alright yes, I understand. Thank you for your time.” Dean hung up and sighed. “Tyler and James were both found with their shirts open, and the wounds are consistent with Woman in White victims.”

           “But neither of them cheated?” Cas said.

           “James didn’t have anyone to cheat on,” Dean confirmed. “I know dads don’t know everything about their sons, but they seemed really close. And Sam’s pretty damn sure about Tyler too. He had a wife and a guy.”

           “Then perhaps these men were simply killed by some sort of serial killer. Rita and Isaac mentioned trouble with Isaac’s family.”

           “Did some checking on Facebook for them. They were all miles away at a family reunion. Guess Isaac didn’t make the cut.” Dean’s jaw clenched. “Could be someone else, but…”

           The hotel door opened to Sam, his laptop under his arm and holding a takeout bag. “I stopped by the diner,” he explained. “They actually had a Cobb salad.”

           “Any luck at the library?”

           Sam took out his salad and tossed the rest of the bag to Cas. “A weird kind of luck. But here’s the thing—I went to the scene too.”

           “Sam!” Dean stopped unwrapping the burger. “That could have been—”

           “I’m not with anyone, Dean.” Sam didn’t seem riled. “And I didn’t go to the scene of the bodies, just along the road. And EMF readings…it was going bonkers. There’s been ghost activity down there for sure.”

           “So maybe it’s a vengeful spirit,” Cas theorized. “Perhaps it has something to do with their father?”

           Sam shook his head. “I still think it was a Woman in White, but…kinda different. When I was at the library I went pretty deep into the weeds, and I think I found her.” He opened his laptop. On the screen was a picture of a woman in late 19th century clothes.

           “Her name was Prudence Jennings. She lived a couple of towns over. In 1891, her children were reported dead, and her death day is the same date.”

           “So you think it’s the classic Woman in White scenario?” Cas asked. “She killed her children because her husband was unfaithful?”

           “Yeah, but get this. I went into the archives, and man, those people save everything. If I was actually running a blog I’d want access. But I found Temperance Morris’ diary. She was Prudence’s sister—”

           “Those names are made up, right?”

           Sam ignored Dean. “Temperance wrote that her sister’s husband wasn’t fond of women, even if he’d given her two children. She hinted that maybe Mr. Jennings was sleeping with…well, a man.”

           “Ah. That’s more complicated.”

           “Is it?” Sam asked. “I mean, it’s still murder-suicide because of infidelity. And there were cases back in the 30s and 40s in this area of Woman in White activity. At least there were murders of men, and some of them were…uh, ‘known homosexuals’”.

           Cas winced. “So she’s going after unfaithful gay men.”

           “Yeah. The last one was in Joshua in 1951, and it was a man who was out. Apparently it broke his partner’s heart when he went missing.”

           “That’s still a long time between kills,” Dean said. “Maybe another hunter wasted her?”

           “I don’t think so,” Sam said. He took out John’s journal.

           Cas scowled.

           “Dad—he wrote about this case. It’s just a small paragraph, but it mentioned Prudence’s sister, that’s how I got onto the journal. He marked it possible Woman in White, but he marked it cold too.”

           Cas leaned back. They’d only had the one conversation about John, and he was still a touchy subject. “Is that possible? For Women in White to stop?” Your father cannot be trusted.

           “She could have moved on, maybe? That would be really hard, but maybe she got up the courage to go home with her children.”

           “So let’s say it is Prudence. Why did she go after Tyler and James? Neither of them have been unfaithful.”

           “But they’re both men who have been in relationships with men,” Cas said. “And Tyler is married to a woman and carrying on a relationship with a man. Even if the three are in agreement…”

           “That might be enough.”

           “So there hasn’t been anyone gay or unfaithful in this town since the 40s? Is that even possible?”

           “We’ve got to rule it out, I guess. There definitely haven’t been any murders.”

           “This seems fake.”

           “How cynical you two are,” Cas said.

           “Are your angel senses telling you anything?” Dean asked.

           Cas rolled his eyes, but he nodded. “I believe the records in this town are honest, and I don’t sense anything odd. But I’m still getting used to having my powers again, and some of what I sense isn’t making…sense.”

           “What, exactly?”

           Cas reached out again, like he’d been doing for the last two hours. “I believe there is a ghost, and they have…they have a grudge. But that’s all I know. I’m sorry. I can go fly out.”

           “We might need you for something else,” Sam said. “If it is a Woman in White, we should do our best to lure her out. And that means someone queer needs to cheat on their partner.” He smiled at Cas and Dean.

           “Do you think that’ll work?” Dean asked.

           “I promise I won’t do anything to betray you, Dean,” Cas said gently. “I will only go as far as absolutely necessary. Do you know where Prudence’s house was, Sam?”

           “Yup. It’s right along the road I drove earlier. There’s not much left of it, but that’s fine. It’ll work for what we need to do. If you’re going to be the bait, Cas, why don’t Dean and I run out there earlier? That way we can wait there for you.”

           “Alright. Should we do this tonight?”

           “May as well. We should start heading home soon. And it might give the families a little bit of closure.” Sam bit his lip, and Cas knew he was remembering the grief in the Thompson house. Closure wouldn’t help that family for a long, long time.

           “I’m going to take a shower before we go,” Sam announced. He got up and headed to the bathroom. The minute the water started running, Dean grabbed Cas’ hands.

           “Babe, are you sure this is going to work?”

           “Well, it will not if this ghost is not a Woman in White. But we may still attract the ghost. Don’t worry, Dean, we’ll be home in time to greet your family.”

           “That’s not really what I’m worried about. I mean…will it count as you being unfaithful to me?”

           “I told you, only as far as necessary, Dean.”

           Dean sighed. “Have we even been—have we been together long enough?”

           By now, Cas was fluent in Winchester, particularly the Dean variety. “You mean more to me than anyone else living, Dean Winchester. I love you deeply. Any act against that would be a great betrayal. I’d deserve to be killed by a ghost were I unfaithful.”

           Dean’s breathing was still a little bit shaky, but he nodded. “Sorry. I guess I…I guess I still need to hear that. I love you too.”

           Cas pulled Dean into his arms, wishing away his anger. It was no good to Dean right now. “You know, if you’re worried that the Woman in White might need convincing…”

           Dean smirked. He was out of his shirt in a minute, which conveniently was right when Sam came out of the bathroom.

           “FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!”

           “THIS IS OUR ROOM, ASSHAT.”

           Sam just slammed the bathroom door shut.

           Dean laughed, and the pressure in Cas’ chest loosened. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

           “Are we there yet?”

           “Sammy, I swear to Chuck—”

           “Shouldn’t you be swearing to Amara?”

           Dean glared at his little brother. “I can swear to whatever cosmic sibling I want, bitch.”

           “Jerk. Are we there yet?”

           “No. This is what happens when you only take backroads.”

           They hit another bump and Dean swore, apologizing to Mr. Grant’s car quietly. Women in White liked highways, so the only way they could drive to the Johnson house was along old backroads and used-to-be-backroads.

           “Are we—”

           “Sam. I will eat you.”

           “Not that. Are we moving too quickly?”

           Dean glanced at Sam. “You were the one who said go.”

           “I was. But…but now I’m not so sure.”

           Dean drove around a pot-ditch. “I know.” There was something off about this entire case, more so than the orientations of the victims. “But it’s supernatural, so it’s our gig. And if it isn’t a Woman in White, at least we’ve got it narrowed down. And if something goes wrong, we have my Cas.”

           “Oh my Amara. My Cas, eh?”

           The old Dean would have told Sam to shut up. The new Dean just blushed.

           “I’m happy for you,” Sam said. “Just so you know.”

           “Thanks.” Dean remembered just before they left, that look in Sam’s eyes when they talked about the trip. “You realize that Cas loves you too, right? Not the same way that he loves me, but he cares about you a lot.”

           Sam was quiet for a second. “Thanks.”

           “You know you’re still important to both of us. That hasn’t changed.”

           “You sound like divorced parents.” Sam still wasn’t quite smiling. “I know, but it felt like…I don’t know. As much as I wanted you two to be together, before we were both his friend. And now I…I don’t want to be in the way.”

           “The only time you’re in the way is when we’re having sex,” Dean said bluntly. “And we’ve got to be more careful about where we bang, but Sam, you’re family. To both of us. We don’t want you gone. We kinda just want you to start respecting socks on the door.”

           “Gross.” But Sam was smiling now. “I can do that.”

           “Good. End of conversation.” Dean rolled his eyes. “We don’t want you around, the idea.”

           A few minutes later, Dean spotted the house. He stopped the car and got out. Sam followed him.

           “We’re here, Sammy.”

           “Yeah, I know.”

           “You’re such a—”

           Sam grabbed his arm. “Quiet. Just in case.”

           Dean nodded, forgetting Sam couldn’t see him. Then he tapped Sam’s arm in affirmative. There was a theory in the hunting community—when dealing with a Woman in White, don’t make too much noise at her house. It could lure her back, which kind of went against their plans with Cas.

           Instead, Dean took out his phone and texted Cas.

           We’re here, babe.

           The response came a moment later.

           I love you.

           Dean froze. “She’s with him, Sam.”

           Sam immediately quickened his pace. Dean followed, the shotgun bouncing against his back. It’s just a Woman in White. Cas will be fine.

           The house was in much worse shape than Constance’s—it was barely held together. The only part that actually looked like a house was just off the sagging porch. The moon was coming out now, and Dean saw Sam motion towards it.

           Carefully, the two of them eased their way onto the porch and through the gaping hole where a door must have been. The room was covered in dust, and there were sticks of old furniture, but other than that it was empty.

           “I wonder why this place hasn’t been torn down yet,” Dean muttered.

           “It was lived in until about fifty years ago,” Sam whispered.

           In the distance, Dean heard a familiar rumble.

           “There’s Cas.”

                                                 **********

           Cas had thought it might be harder to find the Woman in White.

           Sam and Dean had left a few hours before, and he’d spent those hours alone in the hotel room, waiting for darkness to fall. Finally, just after sunset, Cas got into the Impala and drove back to Joshua.

           He could feel the grief of the little town as he approached, and he grimaced. That was one of the unpleasant parts of his powers—before he’d met Dean, the emotions of humans had moved him to pity, but had never assaulted him in this way. His time spent human had given him a chance to feel how horrible grief could be, and now it was compassion, not pity, that moved his prayer.

           “Father, help these people find hope again. And let us give them justice tonight.”

           He continued driving out to the highway, slow enough that he could see the empty fields passing by. His phone pinged twice, and he answered the texts quickly—‘see you later’. That would tell Dean that he hadn’t encountered the ghost yet.

           And then, ten minutes after his last text, he spotted her. A woman wearing a thin white dress and an even thinner shawl stood by the side of the road.

           Castiel pulled over. “May I help you?” he asked.

           “Can you take me home?” the woman asked. Her form flickered, just a bit. Definitely a ghost.

           “Of course. Can you give me directions?”

           The woman approached the car slowly. As she got settled, Cas’ phone went off.

           He texted I love you, and put the car in drive.

           “Who were you talking to?”

           “My boyfriend,” Cas replied. “Where am I taking you?”

           The woman was quiet, only speaking to give directions. But as they drove her shawl came off and her skirt hitched up higher and higher. Cas shot her a couple of what he hoped were meaningful looks.

           “Why were you alone?” he asked her.

           The ghost looked at him. “Does it matter? I’m with you now.”

           The words could have been seductive, a temptation to forget the past and concentrate on the present. Instead, the words were dull, dropping into the silence of the car.

           Cas smiled encouragingly. “Are we nearly there?”

           “Just the next bend.”

           Something was wrong. This woman wasn’t trying to be seductive at all. Even the baring of her skin had been done with great reluctance. But she was a ghost; Cas could tell. Everything here pointed to a Woman in White, so what was the missing piece?

                                             ****************

           “Sam, get down,” Dean hissed. The Impala wasn’t that close, but Baby’s headlights were powerful, and the last thing he wanted was for the Woman to jump them early.

           “How much further down do you want me, Dean?” Sam hissed back. He was crouching, his back to the window, frowning at the EMF reader. There was only faint beeping coming from it.

           “Where are the children?” Dean asked.

           “I don’t know. There’s no second floor here. And I’m not sensing anything…”

           “Did they…maybe they only appear when their mother comes home?”

           “No idea.”

           Dean ground his teeth in frustration. The entire house felt strange, and it was starting to get to him. He wanted to call out for Cas, to warn him, but what was there to warn him about? ‘Oh, we’re ghost-hunting, and I have a bad feeling?’

           Through the window, Dean saw the Impala in the moonlight, driving up the long path to the house. Dean let out a deep breath. Cas was here now, and he had the ghost lady with him. Now they just needed to waste her…

                                                            *********

           Cas could see the house up ahead, and he knew Sam and Dean were there.

           “This is your home, yes?” he asked the woman.

           He turned to her, half-expecting her to try and kiss him, or something. Anything to assuage the worry in his mind. To his shock, he saw that the woman was crying.

           “I’m sorry,” she gasped. And her face was changing, her form shifting into a different woman, with black curly hair and a million freckles. Cas shrank away from her, suddenly afraid for the first time.

           “I didn’t want to,” the woman sobbed. “He made me. I’m sorry!”

           And she shoved at Cas.

           The car went flying into the air. Cas struggled to hold on to the steering wheel as the Impala rolled three times. It landed right side up, but the doors were badly mangled. Cas could tell he was bleeding from several places, but nothing too serious.

           The ghost was gone from the car. When Cas managed to look outside, he realized that he was in a wide field. Even with his keen eyesight, he could hardly see the house.

           Sam. Dean.

           And with that thought, the house burst into flames.

                                            ********

           The crash sent them both to their feet. Dean cried out in horror as he saw the Impala flip in the air, soaring over to the next field.

           “What the hell?”

           “I’m sorry!”

           Dean whipped around and saw a ghostly woman standing there. But she wasn’t wearing white; instead, she wore modern clothes and her hair hung past her elbows.

           “You’re not Prudence,” Dean said stupidly.

           “I’m sorry!” the ghost gasped again. “I’m sorry. You need to run! He’ll get you!”

           “Who?”            The woman started to wail. Dean watched in horror as the ghostly figure was dragged across the room, shrinking as she did. The last light of her went into a jar.

           Someone picked up the jar.

           Dean raised his gun; Sam was beside him.

           The figure snapped their fingers, and a strange glow came into the room.

           Dean nearly dropped his gun.

           John Winchester stood in the room with them.

          “Dad?”

           Sam was still trying to catch his breath. Their father was standing there, not quite solid, still dead for sure. Sam had enough experiences with people coming back from the dead to tell by now; there was something about their shadows.

           “How?” Dean asked.

           John shrugged. “Well, you boys set me free, after all. Good job, opening a Gate to Hell.”

           Sam almost wanted to say, wow, are you behind a few years, but John beat him to it.

           “But that was you getting started, wasn’t it?” John’s eyes were cold, and when he stepped closer Sam couldn’t help but flinch.

           “Dad, what’s going on?”

           “I thought I’d bring you boys on a little trip down memory lane.” John held up the jar. “Woman in White, that was the first case I sent you on together, remember? Right before your pretty girlfriend burned, Sammy?”

           Sam felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “You killed—you killed those boys?” Don’t think about Jess, don’t think about Jess.

           “Two brothers in a little town, both abominations of love.” John advanced on Dean. “Seemed about right.”

           Dean shot, but John dodged the rock salt. “Dad, just fight it. Hell fucked you up, this isn’t you talking.”

           John laughed. “You really believe that, Dean? I’m touched.”

           Sam fired two shots into John’s head. The ghost dissipated with a snarl, and Sam ran to Dean’s side.

           John reappeared a second later on the other side of the room. “Hell just removed my filter, sons, and now I’ve got a chance to do what I should’ve done myself.” The hate in his eyes when he looked at Sam pierced him like a knife. “You abomination, you killed your mother. Good thing your girlfriend died before she found out what you were.”

           “Don’t you fucking dare say that to him!” Dean fired off a shot, but John reappeared by the windows. “He didn’t have a choice, and he’s a better man than anyone gave him credit to be.”

           “You’re a great judge of character, aren’t you Dean?” John’s eyes glittered. “I gave you one job, one job. And you turned out to be just as much a monster-lover as your brother. Fucking an angel, really? Bad enough you’re a faggot.” He raised his hands. “You two disappoint me. Your mother would be ashamed of you both.”

           “Really?”

           “Yes. Shame you’ll never find out.”

           John snapped his fingers, and the room burst into flames. “Hellfire,” he said conversationally.  “Seems appropriate for you two.” He tossed the jar into the centre of the room, the trapped ghost glowing brightly. “Go on, try to get out.”

           Sam looked around desperately. The smoke was already thick, and Sam coughed. His lungs remembered this feeling, heavier and darker than breathing normal smoke. We’re going to suffocate before we burn.

           Dean was already on the ground, hacking. Sam raised his gun and shot at where John had been a moment before, but he heard the shell crack off the window.

           “Pathetic.” That was his father’s voice. “Pathetic little freaks.”

           Then the smoke and flames vanished, gone as if they were never there. The room was still bright, and it took Sam’s eyes a moment to adjust. It was the Impala’s headlights, the familiar beams lighting up the room.

           A figure stood where the windows had been a second before.

           “Ualolina Nolil.” Cas’ blade was out, his eyes glowing blue. “What do you think you’re doing?”

           Dean was bewildered, still coughing as Sam pulled him to his feet. Cas stood deadly still, eyes locked with John’s.

           “Get out of here, you—”

           Cas waved his hand and John went crashing into the wall, hitting it solidly.

           “I asked you a question,” Cas growled, and Dean shivered. Cas had never sounded quite so…vengeful. “How dare you harm them? You are not worthy to look upon them, let alone judge them!”

           John struggled to his feet. For a second his face softened, and he looked scared. “Dean? Sam? I’m sorry boys. This vengeful thing—it’s fucked me up. You were right.”

           “Oh, no.” Cas was across the room in one stride. He grabbed their father and slammed him against the wall again. “No, John. You don’t get to pretend with these men anymore.” He punched him across the face.

           Dean couldn’t do anything except stare.

           “Let me go you fucking freak!”

           Cas punched him again. “You used your sons. You abused them. You left them to die, and you betrayed their trust. Your wife’s death is no excuse for you to become the biggest monster in their life.”

           “I did my fucking best!” John swung at Cas, but he blocked it easily.

           “Your best would have been to understand the wrongness in your own brain, your broken spirit. You could have loved them. Instead you let your loyalty to a dead woman blind you to the children you had living, who needed you, who needed guidance and safety and love! List all the excuses you want, but the moment you decided to bait a shtriga with your children, you forfeited any forgiveness.”

           “What?” Dean croaked.

           John looked scared now, and he struggled violently against Cas’ hold. Cas held him impossibly still. The angel looked over at Dean, a deep sadness in his eyes tempering the fierceness in his face. “You didn’t know, dearest?”

           “Know what?”

           “Tell them, John.” Cas ordered. “Tell them what you did.”

           “Go to hell. I didn’t do anything wrong! If Dean had been where he should, it would have been—”

           “You left your sons alone, late into the night, when you were hunting a shtriga. And Sam was asleep. What would have happened, John, if Dean had stayed in the room and fallen asleep?”

           “He was on the job!”

           Dean felt cold all over. “I was ten,” he whispered.

           “You were old enough to do your job!”

           Sam leapt forward and landed a blow on John. “You motherfucking asshole! You—”

           But he got cut off when in a burst of strength John threw both Sam and Cas off. Sam fell hard, and even Cas was thrown back.

           He’s not going away, Dean realized. Cas could keep hitting him, but something was tethering John to Earth.

           I want him gone. We need him gone.

           Then Dean figured it out.      

           He sprinted outside. Baby was badly dented but the trunk looked okay. Dean yanked it open and dug around until he found what he needed. He spared one last glance at the object before running back inside.

           Sam was back on his feet, leaning against the wall as Cas grappled with John.

           “Hey, John!” Dean shouted. He held up his father’s journal.

           Everyone stopped moving. Dean clicked his lighter and held it up.

           “Dean!” John’s face softened again. “I’m sorry, son. I am. I fucked up. But you’re still my boy. I love you. Give me a chance!”

           “Sorry, Dad.” Dean lit the papers; they caught like kindling. “I couldn’t save you. It’s not my job.”

           John started screaming, his ghostly figure coming apart.

           Sam raised his gun, emptying it until John vanished. The journal’s cover was still smoldering.

           “Dean?” Cas was beside him now. “I can finish it.”

           “Do it,” Dean whispered.

           A burst of fire came from Cas’ hand, and the journal turned into ash in an instant.

           Dean took a deep breath. John was gone.

         Cas caught Dean before he collapsed. Sam was across the room, sinking to his knees.

           “I will take you both home,” Cas whispered. But he had one thing to do first. He summoned the jar, and examined the spirit inside.

           “That’s not Prudence, is it?” It was Sam’s voice, but…but not really Sam.

           “No.” Cas cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. “This is the spirit of a girl named Marie. She died a year ago in a car crash. I suppose he found her and forced her to work. He was a more experienced spirit.”  

           Cas unscrewed the cap. “Go to Heaven, Marie. You are free now, and forgiven for your crimes.” By him at least, but he had a feeling that his father would be understanding.

           “Come here, Sam.” Once Sam had gotten close enough for Cas to touch his arm, he flew back to the Bunker.

           “The Impala…” Dean mumbled. He was shaking against Cas now.

           Cas snapped his fingers. “She’s in the garage, Dean. I will fix her completely tomorrow. Right now you and your brother need my care.” He hesitated for a moment—it wasn’t really finished, it was messy—but he got Sam to his feet. “Follow me.”

           Cas led both brothers down the Bunker halls, past his and Dean’s room, past Sam’s room, past the library.

           “Where’re we going?” Sam mumbled. The younger Winchester was pale, and his eyes were just…empty.

           Cas opened the door at the end of the hall. “In here.”

           The room was just as he’d left it; stuffed with pillows, blankets, and soft chairs. It still needed a few touches, but it would do for now.

           Dean lifted his head from Cas’ shoulder. “This—this feels like you.”

           “It’s my nest,” Cas explained. “Well, a nest. I thought it would be nice to have a place to relax for our family. For all our family. Sam, lie down please. I’ll take a look at your head.”

           Sam obeyed silently, choosing the nearest pillow pile and sinking into it with a quiet sigh. Cas removed his trench coat and helped Dean lay down as well. He touched two fingers to Sam’s head, healing the brewing concussion and developing bruises.

           “Are you injured, Dean?”

           “Just bruises,” Dean mumbled. His skin was cool when Cas touched him, and he didn’t respond to Cas’ worried surge of Grace.

           Cas stepped away and grabbed the two biggest, warmest blankets he could see, and spread them out over the brothers. “You’re both in shock,” he whispered. “Can I get you anything?”

           “Come here?” Dean whispered.

           Cas laid down between the two. He was expecting Dean’s embrace, but Sam’s arms winding around him and Dean together was a bit more of a surprise. The big man was clinging to them both, and he was shaking now too. Cas pressed his lips together.

           “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I had no idea.”

           Sam had started to cry, tears pouring down his face without a sound. Dean wasn’t crying, not yet, but he was nearly there.

           “I promise, you are safe from him now.” Cas took Dean’s hand in his. “You’ll never have to see him again.”

           Dean’s whole body went rigid. “Wait—what about—Impala—”

           “In the garage, Dean,” Cas reminded him, rubbing his thumb over Dean’s knuckles. “She’s good as new.”

           “No, that’s not—” Sam’s eyes were wild with horror. “Is that—is that a tether too?”

           Then Cas understood, and his heart broke again. “No,” he said. “No, I promise it isn’t.”      

           “How d-do you know?”

           “I couldn’t feel your father in the journal because it wasn’t a very strong tether,” Cas explained. He rubbed Sam’s shoulder, trying to warm him up. “Usually when a ghost remains, it’s through a stronger pull. I am not sure why he was able to hold on for so long; it might have something to do with his sojourn in Hell. But there is nothing of him in the Impala, or even that leather jacket. You’ve made those objects a part of your lives, not his. The last traces of him are gone now.”

           Sam let out a huge, shuddering sigh, and Cas could hear the sobs building in Dean’s throat. He moved so he was laying on his back, the brothers on either side of him. “Let it go,” he said. “Let him go.”

           Dean had his face in Cas’ shoulder, and Sam was still reaching over to Dean, so he was pressed against Cas. Cas wondered if he should move, let the brothers grieve alone, but when Cas tried to get up Sam clung to him.

           “Stay?”

           “Of course.” And Cas did, through the long hour of tears, murmuring reassurance as best he could, his heart aching as Sam admitted how broken he felt, as Dean screamed silently with rage and pain. And when the brothers fell asleep at last, Cas stayed awake, protecting their dreams from the nightmares that tried to crawl in. Not his boys. Not this time.

When Sam woke up he felt lighter, better than he had in ages. He stretched, and saw Cas looking at him in amusement.

“What’s so funny?”

“You snore.”

“I do not!”

“Yes you do.” Dean was standing at the door to the…nest, it was the nest. He had a tray of breakfast. “Only once in a while, but when you do it sounds like a chainsaw in heat.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Sam sat up and took his plate. As he dug in, he saw Cas glancing between him and Dean.

“What is it, babe?” Dean asked at last. “You’re freaking us out.”

“How do you feel?” Cas asked.

Sam looked at Dean. “We’re…I think it’s going to be okay. We’ll be okay. That wasn’t easy…” he could still feel his father’s hand slamming into his head, still hear the hurtful words…but there was distance now. “But it’s a bit easier to live with him hating us than trying to…”

“Than trying to figure out if he loved us,” Dean finished.

“You both deserved better.”

“We have plenty.” Sam said. “We have our home, and a family who loves us.” Then he sat bolt upright. “What about the families? We need to tell them why James and Tyler died.” He took out his phone. “I’ll call Rita.” He dialed the number, trying to figure out what to say. How could he explain that her husband had died because of Sam’s family?

“Hello?” It was a man’s voice. It should have been Isaac, but it didn’t sound quite right.

“Hi, this is Sam. We spoke yesterday.”

“We did? I was in a coma yesterday man, I don’t think it was me.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Tyler?”

“Hi. Oh, are you the blogger? Rita, baby, was the blogger dude’s name Sam?”

There was a quick shift. “Hi Sam.” That was Rita’s voice, breathless and happy. “Yes, he woke up, isn’t it wonderful?”

“Woke up?” Sam stared at Dean and Cas.

“Yeah. Looks like you and your partners weren’t necessary. The explosion was ruled to be accidental.”

“Rita...” Sam had no clue what to say. “I thought Tyler wasn’t…going to make it.”

“It sure looked like that. He and his brother were in bad shape; that old Jennings place was a death trap waiting to happen. They shouldn’t have been anywhere near there, right, honey?”

“Yes, honey.” Tyler’s voice had a laugh in it, and Sam blinked hard.

“Well that’s great to hear. I…well, you lose hope in this job sometimes. I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

“Me too.”

Sam heard a baby crying.

“Sorry, Sam, I’ve got to go. Baby’s demanding food. Mr. Grant will probably call your partner Dean later on.”

“He’ll be glad to talk to him,” Sam said. “Have a good day, okay? All of you.” He hung up and stared at Cas and Dean.

“They’re okay?” Dean asked.

“Rita said they’d recovered from being in an explosion at the Johnson place,” Sam replied. “Apparently they were both in comas yesterday, but they’ve woken up and they’re home.”

“But—” Cas stopped himself. “What a miracle.”

“You think?”

“Yes.” Cas looked overwhelmed. “I suppose my father answered my prayer.”

Sam remembered the grief-stricken house of the day before. “I’m glad.”

Dean nodded. “Hang on, what day is it again?”

“They’re coming tomorrow,” Cas replied.

Sam caught his breath. He’d almost forgotten. Tomorrow, their family was starting to come home tomorrow.

“Then we’ve got time for a drive.” Dean stood. “Sammy, want to go?”

“Sure.” Sam looked at Cas, but the angel shook his head.  

“I have some business in Heaven. I will return when you’re finished.”

A few minutes later, Sam was in the passenger seat of the Impala, and Dean was gunning the engine and roaring down the highway. Sam looked at his brother, and was struck by the way he was sitting. His shoulders were looser, his eyes were bright, and when he smiled at Sam, there was no guilt in them. There was no sense of failure.

Sam rolled the window down. “How fast do you think we can go?”

Dean laughed. “Sammy, let’s find out.” He hit play on the cassette, and AC/DC started blaring.

********

Cas landed in Heaven’s throne room, and the first thing he saw was that the name should really be ‘thrones room’. Both his Father and Amara were sitting on elegantly carved chairs; Father’s looked mahogany, while Amara’s looked like marble. They weren’t, of course, they were carved pieces of pure energy, but Cas supposed they had to look like something.

Both deities looked worried. “How are Dean and Sam?” Amara asked.

“Mending.” Cas considered the two. “Which one of you brought James and Tyler back?”

“I did,” Father said. “Amara dealt with the details.”

“I thought so.”

“What do you mean, nephew?”

“People with comas aren’t sent home the morning they wake up.”

“Even when they’re perfectly healthy?” Amara exclaimed.

“They’re not supposed to be perfectly healthy.”

Amara shrugged. “Oh well. Food for thought. That was easier, and their families missed them.”

Cas smiled, but it faded quickly. “Where is John Winchester?”

A wave of anger poured from the thrones, and Cas shuddered.

“He is in Hell,” Father said. “Crowley has promised to continue what you started, Castiel.”

Cas thought of the demon—infuriating, treacherous, but fiercely loyal to Sam and Dean Winchester in his own way—and smiled. “Good enough.”

“Amara, would you give us a moment?” Father asked.

“No, Father. I am not angry with you.”

Father blinked. “Oh. I was sure you would be.”

“Did you kill James Grant and Tyler Thompson?”

“No. But I knew who did it, and I knew your path would lead you there. I warned you as best I could.”

“You were right to let it happen. I would not wish the pain of that encounter on Sam and Dean…but they needed to see for themselves. They needed to lay him to rest seeing what he truly was. They got their answers, and I hope that will help them move forward.”

“I suppose you’ve gotten your own answers, Castiel.”

Cas thought of that long year of desperate searching, all the painful years of seeing everything he trusted and believed in questioned, missing, broken…but in the end, someone who found their courage and came back.

“Not yet, Father. There’s still some time.”

Father looked hopeful.

“I know that you care,” Cas said, and there was an all-too-human lump in his throat. “That’s all I need for now. I’m lucky, I suppose—Sam and Dean know their father didn’t.”

Father nodded. “Thank you, Castiel.” He cleared his throat. “On that subject, I think two people can come back today. Amara figured out a way to balance the souls more efficiently.”

“Crowley was a good teacher,” Amara said with a grin.

Cas beamed. “And it will be the two we discussed? Are they…aware of what’s happened?”

Father nodded. “They both know. They’re ready.”

“Of course they are. I can escort them back, if you like?”

Father nodded. “Go ahead, Cas. And know that I…I will work to be worthy of your faith.”

“I’ll try as well, nephew. Your faith is inspiring.”

Cas bowed to them both, and left the room.

*********

Dean parked Baby and leaned back in the seat with a sigh. Sam was half-asleep in the passenger seat—kid looked more relaxed than Dean had seen him in years, and a relaxed Sam was a sleepy Sam. Not Dean, though—he was wide awake, and every breath felt easy. He shook his brother’s shoulder. “C’mon, Sammy. We’re home.”

Sam blinked. “I wasn’t asleep.”

“Need a nap?”

“Dude, you nap too!”

“No, Sammy, I power sleep in short bursts. There’s a difference.”

“Sure there is.” Sam got out of the car. “That’s why you need nap music.”

Dean was about to retort when he heard wings flapping. Smiling, he got out and came face to face with his Cas. “Hey babe, great timing.” He kissed Cas, delighted by how easy it was to kiss him at last. “How was Heaven?”

“It was nice.” Cas had the glow he always got when he walked on holy ground, and his eyes were soft and fond. It had been ages since Dean had seen him like that. “I brought back gifts.”

Dean didn’t understand, but Sam sucked in his breath. “Do you mean—”

“My father and aunt were able to begin this process early,” Cas confirmed. “Your parents are back.”

For one stuttering heartbeat Dean was afraid again. Had Chuck not understood? Didn’t he know?

Then he heard a fondly muttered “hello, idjits,” and Dean spun around.

“Dad!”  

Bobby stood in the garage’s door. He came towards them with his arms open, and Sam got to him first, Dean only a step behind.

“Alright, sons. Alright.” Bobby patted Dean’s head. “I’m here.”

Dean hugged Bobby as tight as he could. For a minute, he forgot everything else. Their dad was here, and he was the first to come, and they could have the rest of their lives together in a world where there wasn’t an annual apocalypse.

But then Bobby let go, and Dean saw behind him a blonde woman with a plaid shirt and a silver charm bracelet, with a smile that Dean had almost forgotten.

“Mom?”

[seenashwrite]

Hey! So I'm finally writing a fic, and it's gonna be pretty long (from how it's been going XD). SO I was wondering when it's time to make it a 2 part series, and when I should stop part one. Because I honestly do not know what's a really good cliffhanger and what's just bad. Thanks for reading!!!!!!!

I have no idea when you wrote this, sweets, and Imma answer even though I caution I’m still stumbling into recovery from that case of the zombies I contracted. 

So. Ooof. Cliffhangers. Well.  I mean, they don’t…… the whole….. y’know, the BOOOOOM!! and/or GAAAASP!! type of thing….. I just..... yeah, I can’t be completely diplomatic about this topic. For ol’ Nash, here, I gotta say:

99% of cliffhangers suck it big time.

So, okay, PICTURE IT: we’re winding down to the end of a given chunk of the story [or the TV show’s season finale, or the movie, whatevs] and I’ve successfully imagined myself in the scenario, that protagonist O.C. character or reader insert is speaking to me, I’m tracking with the plot, I’m sold baby, I AM ALL THE WAY FREAKIN’ IN, ergo in that scene…..

….I’m on the second floor of an abandoned house, I’m a little impatient, maybe a touch nervous or annoyed, and every time I fidget, rock back on my heels, the weathered floorboards under the threadbare carpet creak, and now on top of everything I’d swear I just heard the click of the doorknob echo down the hallway, only I know Sam’s way out in the backyard and Dean should still be out front grabbing more shells from the car, so I gasp and shudder and my eyes go wide as I’m frozen to the spot, watching that knob on the door not but a hop-skip away from me turn, aaaaaaand CUT TO BLACK.

Hmmmm.

See, the problem cutting off with something like that - y'know, inferring there’s gonna be some legit cliff plummeting jazz - is I’m not gonna buy it. I’m just not. Because (a) you ain’t gonna kill me/my character, and (b) you ain’t killing Sam and/or Dean.

Unless you ARE, in which case? Don’t even go within the realm of cliffhanger, stick with pure drama genre, and keep it to a one-and-done vs. series, otherwise it comes off as…. I don’t even know the word…. Flippant? Gimmicky?  

Specifically what I mean, and I’ll use the visual medium as example: the garbage of ending a given season - or “series”, depending on your locale - of a show [that we’re all well aware is renewed] or a movie [that we’re all well aware is part of a triology/“universe”, and/or is based off of a book series/comics] with a faux death, it’s just—–

Pardon me for a sec.

[Reaches into the always-stocked water balloon basket that lives in a corner of the front porch of The NashHole©℗™, just behind the swing; picks up a real nice fatty; launches in direction of window; lands with a beautiful splat]

Apologies, I’m having a helluva time waving down the interns to refill my iced tea, and Cas, my non-dead angel buddy who’s sitting beside me, wants another unicorn frappucino, because he’s not dead, no one ever believed he was dead, of course he wasn’t dead, and we’ve been out here swaying in the breeze, adding to the ever-growing list of ways that S12 could’ve ended without cheap deaths [cough Crowley], without poorly implied deaths [cough Mary], and without completely transparently faux deaths [cough Cas], and just have been, y'know, *better*.

Cliffhangers-that-ain’t are frustrating, and it immediately cuts me down to 50/50 in terms of if I’ll continue on watching, or - for the present topic - reading. This is a MAJOR reason why - in fanfic land - I don’t care for most episode/season re-writes [I’ve perused lots of them; only 2 or 3 have made The Nail].  Why? Most rehash what I/we already know, just painting over it with the brush of the author’s watercolor personal desires, no spin or creative angle taken. It’s that whole thing of them trying to craft suspense where there is none. I know where this road leads. I walked that road with the author when I saw the ep, and not just me, about 2+ million of us. Or more, I don’t keep up with ratings.

[Psssst….. anyone curious as to how to do this “right”, RE: being inventive & not simply re-hashing — please do see the offerings at “How It Should’ve Ended”; more recent ones that tickled me have been WW and Jurassic World and Rogue One and X-Men: Apocalypse]

So, that’s Nash Cliffhanger Advisement #1: I’ve no doubt it can be done well, even though I can’t think of an occasion where I’ve seen it & not been at least partially eye-rolly about it. I’m also having no doubt that:

(A) If you do wanna give it a whirl, probs shouldn’t be done on every part because that’ll get old; and

(B) A sure thing would be to keep it to a single story if you’re looking to shock, don’t drag it out - I’d rather have a 10K one-shot that delivers on drama than a bunch of filler added to it for the sake of trying [and potentially failing] to make it suspenseful by expanding it into a series.  #Fic Wreck 

Speaking of those, mild confession time. There exists a folder, filled with tales that wrecked me, ones I caught on my dash or were sent to me or I was tagged in, that have >100 notes, some in the near-thousands count, which were so bad I hurt myself laughing. I proceeded to cut-and-paste the most heinous parts into a document, all so that when I have those times when I’m beating myself up over nit-picky sh*t in my stories & need a break, I go to Fic Wrecks©℗™, and I laugh, and I remind myself Hey, Nash, pump the brakes, people are pretty f*cking forgiving, apparently. 

This might make me a bitch. I also have a doc full of reader feedback on my stuff, both good and bad, which I read when I need a reminder of what works, what hasn’t, and that more often than not, a tidy chunk of people dig what I write. This might make me a mechabitch. I’m sleeping alright.

I bring this up to lead into Nash Cliffhanger Advisement #2 : Check out other stuff.

I know, this is in direct contrast to my writer’s block advice, part of which was to *not* read.  In this case, there’s not block; for me,this is more to the editing end of things. I’m not concerned with an accidental “lift” or “light bulb” that piggybacks off of someone else’s plot/spin/thing because at this point, I’m assuming it’s all fleshed out, you know where the story’s going, any twists/mysteries have been accounted for, etc.

Revisit fanfic that you’ve read that had more than one part, preferably ones whose plots you still remember fairly well so that you can scroll right to the bottom of part 1, read the last couple paragraphs, then hit the first bit of part 2, scroll to bottom, and so on.  

Do you tag your own stuff, like with #fic rec, perhaps?  If not, lots of peeps do - this seems to be a suuuuuper common tag, at least, that I’ve seen.  Go cruise some blogs you like, see if that pops any small multi-parters for you to check out.  

Or, think on book series. Looking back, having read the whole shebang, do you ever think “Jeez, why did the author cut it off there, then pick it up here?” And then another view to take, how’s that have been made into movies? Then ask yourself “Why did the movie-makers choose to cut it there and have the next movie pick up here?” 

I have no idea what you’ve read and then if you’ve gone on to watch their visual counterparts, but here’s a handful off the top of my head....

Narnia

Hunger Games

Lord of the Rings/Hobbit

50 Shades

Harry Potter

Twilight

Divergent

Maze Runner

Basically, in your mind, could they have done it better or did they nail it?

And speaking of nailing it, going back to the written word, thumb through the series/multi-parters on The Nail - remember, 99% of the time I’m not reading series on there in their entirety due to time restraints, so I can’t attest to them having pitch-perfect cap-offs to each of their chapters, but if they made the list?  Well, y'all know how anal-retentive I am - the author’s doing more than a few things above-average, so I’d hedge my bets that they’ve got a good grasp on ending chapters with engagement & enticement.    

And that’s where I personally aim when it comes to my chapters, whether it’s the novel-like Top of the World or my mini-series that have made the rounds here. I want the audience to (1) be engaged to the point that the end of that part kinda snuck up on ‘em, and (2) be enticed to carry on reading when the next part is posted. 

I looked back at the aforementioned works, at how I was capping off, and seems I tend to end in the midst of someone/a group pondering over something, or planning something, then I tend to [not always! but tend to] kick off the next part NOT in the midst of that exact same something. As in - different characters, or it’s the next day, or a new setting. I’d give examples but…. spoilers & such, y’know. [wink]  

Hope that helps. My iced tea has arrived. Til we meet again….