#Do you think that he had war flashbacks from what he saw inside Dean's head?

[the-dormant-ocean]

Props to AU!Micheal for taking Dean up on his offer to use him as a vessel. That man is b r a v e! Like, Dean Psychotically Irrationally Erotically Codependent Winchester??? The Dean Obsessive Possessive Winchester??? Are you sure that this is a good idea??? You want to be inside Dean's head out of your own volition??? See all his memories??? Hear his thoughts??? Could not be me!

The things he must have seen and heard 💀. I don't even know how he survived stepping inside Dean's body! I can't imagine getting hit by the absolute nuke that is the decades of repressed feelings Dean has for Sam and surviving it. Can you imagine trying to spy through Dean's eyes only to see that he's staring at Sam's ass???

[blondie20000]

SPN Season 14 Recs

Season 14, the season that had so much potential. As I am in an SPN mood, I'm going to recommend some season 14 fics that I love! Links are in the titles of the fics. Fics are from both Ao3 and FF.

I also added my fics because while I do have a masterlist in my pinned post if anyone is looking for a specific season, they can look here.

More fics may be added later on.

The Bringer of War by MadisonTheGeek

Summary:

"Now that the archangel Michael has made it to a new world and taken possession of Dean Winchester, he can begin to put his plans in motion for a new world order. Meanwhile, the rest of the Winchester group search restlessly for the missing Dean and slowly being to unravel Michael's plans."

Not All Good News by trevelies

Summary:

"Michael is caged inside Dean's mind for now. But there's grace leaking from the cracks, banging on the doors, and Dean knows what happens at the end of this story. With borrowed (and confusing) Archangel abilities, a group of mistrustful Apocalypse Universe Hunters, and too many Michael Monsters to deal with, Team Free Will 2.0 is ready to clean up the mess that Michael's left behind and stop another apocalypse. Not all the danger is locked inside a bar's walk-in freezer, though - and the Winchesters need to watch out for old and new enemies around every corner.

And at the end of it all, Dean needs to decide how far he'll go to get rid of Michael once and for all."

Gonna Leave a Scar by trevelies

Summary:

"Michael repossesses Dean in Kansas City, and Team Free Will 2.0 isn't exactly on board. It doesn't matter that their only weapon and chance at defeating Michael is currently broken into pieces - family never gets left behind. And that goes double for Winchesters. Sam does a deep dive into Dean's head because he's not letting Dean disappear on his watch, even if it means facing an Archangel on his own turf."

All On You by trevelies

Summary:

"The Spear" speculation. Dean's vision is swimming - literally. But Team Free Will 2.0 has much bigger problems. The angels have finally located Michael, and the Winchesters have Kaia's Spear, an angel and a half, and about three weeks of bad memories to take out on Michael's feathery ass."

The Abyss Gazes Back by Water_of_life

Summary:

"Dean was able to convince Sam to go along with his plan of locking Michael (and Dean) away in the ma'lak box and dumping it in the Pacific Ocean. Sam gave in to Dean then, but he never gave up searching for another way to save Dean and the rest of the world from Michael. Now that a group of deep sea researchers have stumbled upon the box, Sam is about to find out if he put the reprieve to good use, and if they are all ready to face what is coming."

Omission, Lies, and False Truths by GalaxyThreads, SpiritClusters

Summary:

"In the wake of Lucifer's death, with Dean missing, Sam falling apart, and Cas struggling to keep everyone together, Jack realizes there are a lot of things he doesn't know about the Winchesters and Cas. Things he should know. Things he's going to fight to learn."

10 Years Gone by cayuga

Summary:

"What if Nick had kidnapped Mary before she'd gone into Donna's workshop and saw the Ma'lak box in Damaged Goods? What might have happened if Dean had managed to go through with his trip to the bottom of the Pacific without telling Sam."

the lies I tell myself by randomfills (spnfanatic)

Summary:

"Alt. take on season 14, episode “Nihilism”. Sam and Cas have a plan to bring Dean, literally, out of his head, but Michael is ready for them and once they enter Dean’s mind, they quickly realize they’re in Michael’s playground and Dean has been hiding things...things that even Sam didn’t know. (mentions of abuse, flashbacks)."

The Room by Fantasticly_Anonymous

Summary:

"Sam learns what it is that Dean’s been doing up at Donna’s cabin and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it enough that he thinks up his own solution to their little Michael problem. A bit of a bottle episode, a ‘What If?’ scenario, and a character exploration between the different members of Team Free Will and the archangel thorn in Dean’s mind. In which, nobody, not even the entire world, needs to die."

Rather be the hunter than the prey by vrskaandrea (MalicMalic)

Summary:

"The story takes place in S14E15 Peace of Mind , only instead of Dean, Cas is the one to take Jack to Donatello to try and find out if he still has his soul. Sam and Dean take on a simple salt and burn where they meet up with Ketch. Upon their return, they are welcomed by a sight that has Sam experiencing Deja vu. Forgotten plotlines."

Match made in Heaven by vrskaandrea (MalicMalic)

Summary:

"Two people the world forgot about find each other by accident. Their love is so strong, so powerful when they run into an army of monsters, this unlikely couple ends up being a bigger threat their leader ever anticipated. Michael just couldn't let something as powerful slip thought his fingers and he will end up biting off more then he could chew. Set during season 14"

Roles Reversed by vrskaandrea (MalicMalic)

Summary:

"What if when Dean got hit in the head and the doors of Michael's cage opened, something happened that made them reverse their roles? That made Dean an archangel who could just snap his fingers and instantly kill demons? That made Michael nothing but a pitiful soul that kept drowning in his own nightmares? Come and see."

It's all in the blood by Becciehill1976

Summary:

"Faced with recurring fears about Michael returning as well as trying to fit back in to life in a busy bunker, Dean needs time away from everyone, so he can get his confidence back and find his place in the world Sadly, being a famous hunter has it’s draw back as Dean finds out the hard way when kidnapped whilst on a hunt. From there, Dean gets to find out that there are worse things than being the Archangel Michael’s vessel, as he battles powerful vampires. Will he be able to escape his new prison or will his family find him in time?"

One of a kind by MalicMalic

Summary:

"Someone told me that someone told them there aren't enough of Michael/Dean fics out there. Let's change that. While we're at it, why not add another Michael to the mix and see what happens."

Passenger by moonlightsdean

Summary:

"With Michael having escaped Dean's mind and caused destruction in the bunker, Jack took the initiative to end things once and for all with Michael. Now with Michael dead and Dean freed of having Michael trapped within his mind, he'll be able to relax and have time to deal with the aftermath of what happened with the AU hunters. But what if Michael's relinquish from Dean's mind wasn't as clear cut as it was made out to be? When things start going awry for Dean he's left to wonder what really happened during the time he was unconscious, and why he just can't catch a break."

The Price You Pay by Jadeys_World

Summary:

"It was a miracle that Sam survived taking on the Archangel Michael. Team Free Will is going to find out what it takes for a miracle like that to happen and what it costs when a Reaper and unreliable Rogue Angel each decide to help in their own way. There are secrets and betrayals, a world that needs saving once again, but at least they have each other."

An Alternative Ending by AnotherWriterWhoWrites

Summary:

"Michael isn't sure how long he's been in the cage, time is meaningless to him. But as his sanity slips further and further away, resentment to his father sets in. And once Lucifer takes Sam and Jack away a desperate Dean is more than willing to let what should've happened years ago, to happen now."

Of All The Burdens I Must Bear... by Jadeys_World

Summary:

"Chuck constructs the perfect punishment for Sam after the events of Moriah. Lucifer is given a new life to make amends for the burden his father placed on him when they defeated The Darkness. Sam is adrift and alone in his new life, left to find a new strength to cope without his new reality as the enemy."

At What Cost by Jadeys_World

Summary:

"Mary is gone, taken beyond any Winchester deal or pleading, but there's one option left to them. They can get her back, but it will come at a price, a price that might be too much for Dean to pay. A story of family, betrayal and the things you will do for the people you love."

Burned Away by AnotherWriterWhoWrites

Summary:

"In which Sam is the one with Jack at S14E17 Game Night and as a result, a different person dies."

Testing by AnotherWriterWhoWrites

Summary:

"Mary takes a pregnancy test. Post Episode 13 Lebanon."

Peace When You're Done by kittenofdoomage

Summary:

"Dean puts himself in the box in S14 when there’s no other way to defeat Michael. Canon divergent from the end of “Ouroboros”."

Dean in the Box by Secretwrittenword

Summary:

"The box came to a rest on the deepest floor of the ocean. The pressure pushing down on it caused the structure to creak and groan... Set in Season 14, with no other option, Dean seals himself into the Malák box and sinks to the furtherest depths of the ocean. Once there he has nothing but time to kill and an Archangel to annoy."

Dog Dean Afternoon by Secretwrittenword

Summary:

"Sam and Cas go on a hunt leaving Dean and Jack alone in the bunker to recuperate. After going for a walk Jack finds something that just might be the key to help Dean recover from his ordeal with Michael."

Escape of the Archangel by themodernteen

Summary:

"Adaptation of the 14x14 episode "Ouroboros" when Dean is unconscious after getting his head slammed into the wall by the demigod. My own interpretation of the episode, what goes through Dean's mind in his internal battle against Michael, and a worried Sam and Castiel watching him endure it."

Nemesis of the Mind by TiTivillus

Summary:

"In an attempt to save Dean from Michael, Sam delves into Dean's mind. Things don't go as expected."

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap by TiTivillus

Summary:

"Dean is back… or is he? Coda to 14x02 "Gods and Monsters".

Consequences by Jadeys_World

Summary:

"Season 14 AU. Sam is determined to free Dean from Michael and turns to Rowena and the Book of the Damned for help. She finds a spell that will work, but, of course, there will be consequences, and this time, Sam will be paying the ultimate price unless Dean can find a way to save him in return."

Consequences by Blondie2000

Summary:

"For some reason, Lisa found herself drawn to him. She reaches out and places her hand on his cheek. As soon as she touched him, she felt a jolt of electricity go through her. The touch it felt so familiar. The buzz it gave her felt familiar."

"Dean." She repeated his name. "Dean."

Black by Blondie2000

Summary:

"AU of Game Night. Jack wanted Mary to leave him alone. He gets what he wants and accidentally sends Mary to a place where no humans go. Now with Mary gone Jack has to get her back before the Winchesters and Castiel find out and Mary has to survive the dark forces that lurk in the Empty."

Snow Day by Blondie2000

Summary:

"Jack experiences his first ever snow day."

One Time Deal by Blondie2000

Summary:

"Sam and Jack have been kidnapped by Lucifer. Time is running out. What if Dean never said yes to Alternative Michael but instead says yes to our Michael. It is a risky deal but Dean will do whatever it takes to rescue his family and beat the devil once and for all."

The French Mistake 2: An Archangel Nightmare by Blondie2000

Summary:

Dean is gone, Michael has retaken control, and his army is outside, ready to come in and tear everyone apart. With no way out, Sam seeks out help that causes everyone to be sent to a world where their lives are a T.V show and they are actors. Not only do they have this world to worry about, but they still have Michael riding around in Dean's body on the set. Can TFW 2.0 get back home?

The Road to Hell by Blondie2000

Summary:

"The Winchesters find a way to save Dean from Michael. This results in Michael becoming the thing that he grew to hate. He ends up going on the road to Hell. Will he make it to the end? Read and find out."

Who is a Wee Cutie Pie? by Blondie2000

Summary:

"To stop Michael, Rowena puts an adorable curse on him. Set Season 14 Episode 14. AU where Michael never possessed Rowena but stays in Dean instead."

We are One by Blondie2000

Summary:

"Dean confronts Michael. It leads to unexpected results."

[herstarburststories]

illicit love

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader

Summary: Jensen loves you, but sometimes love isn’t the right thing.

A/N: Hey, guys! All we needed was a newish fic to say that I was really back, here it is! This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr 6k challenge. So glad you got to another millestone, honey. It's like I was posting my part for your 5k celebration just yesterday! xD Prompt in bold.

Warnings: age gap, cheating

Jensen Ackles kept squinting through the bricks of his memory in an attempt to recall where it all began. Maybe it was when he drove off the road he had known for years with the dumbfounded desire to take the trails yet traveled, threading his fingers through your hair on the night of September 7th. He could’ve chosen the easy out and say it all started to crumble with the first kiss, but no. The actor, father, and now horrible husband highly doubted that. No, as he unwound the convoluted wires in his mind, it wasn’t the first clandestine meeting that he saw as the beginning, not the first kiss or the primal stolen glances. It wasn’t even the lies or the way he pushed his body against yours in an act of illicit faith.

Like any grand mistake, it was way before that. Just like how the church not-so-gently advised, it all starts with craving something you never thought you would want.

It happened when he landed the job in a new series after leaving a fifteen-year-long rollercoaster, pushing away any real witness to the fact the old show that swallowed part of his soul was over. There was a certain shock of excitement misplaced by the fact he was going to be working with Eric again, and that the show was an abrupt change considering what he had been doing previously. Now, he believed it was his body’s particular way of telling him that — as the savage animals can sense rain or a calamity — this, baby, this is gonna change your life.

JENSEN ACKLES CAST AS SOLDIER BOY!

‘’Since when have you read comics?’’ Jensen arched his messy eyebrows at Dee’s curiosity about the Homelander and Soldier Boy panel making it to the screen. Shaking the comic book in his right hand slightly, he continued: ‘’Especially that kind.’’

‘’Never,’’ Danneel stated plainly, “but I have Google. It was pretty much the first thing that appeared.’’

‘’Well, Eric said that scene won't be on the screen. Besides, the portrayal won't be that Soldier Boy, but the original one who died in the war. ‘Course, he wouldn’t have died there in our show, but it ain’t the panel one.’’ He shrugged, bringing her closer to his side as she snuggled against him. ‘’There’ll be a bunch of Herogasm, which is basically drugs and sex. Just not with Homelander.’’

Danneel nodded at his explanation, humor clinging to her words as she added: ‘’Guess the only man I have to share you with is still Jared.’’

‘’Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into.’’ Jensen scoffed playfully before kissing her cheek. ‘’Can't wait to start the show.’’

Jensen leaned forward to rest the comic that he had been religiously studying to form a psychological character profile on the dashboard of the Impala. The actor was spending plenty of hours inside his most palpable Supernatural souvenir -- Baby. His safe place. He sure as hell needed one of those, as molding a whole character that has a bunch of source material wasn’t as easy as he pictured. With Dean, he was putting himself and the script in one until it made his imaginary best friend. It was love at the first sight. Soldier Boy, however, was a long story short. Jensen figured he should do both, honor the character created and add his own special ingredients to it. It was a brand new kind of passion that he hadn’t done for a series in the longest time. Still, his glance trailed back to the woman by his side in the backseat.

‘’Let's hope it won't last another decade,” she mocked.

Jensen shook his head with a chuckle, relaxing against the leather seat. Even the mere smell of the Impala was enough to settle his nerves. ‘’Eric has plans for five seasons.’’

Danneel’s features contorted as if having war flashbacks. Sort of. She never imagined Supernatural would make it that far, and now with three kids, signing on for another excessively time-consuming idea for a new show didn’t seem too appealing either. Yet, she would support Jensen in any decision he’d take regarding his job. “Remind me the last time I heard that line before?” 

‘’Come on.’’ He let out a wry huff, poking her side in a playful manner. She couldn't help but laugh, returning the gesture with tickles to start a very light-hearted battle. He seemed happy with the new job, something Danneel truly thought he would have more difficulty with. She’d pushed her weathered worries away with his easy-going laughter for now.

SOLDIER BOY’S LOVE INTEREST?

Eric Kripke threw the gossip magazine on the table, his eyes not straying from his long-time friend’s. He could’ve simply added the digital article to an irate email and be done with it, but he was a simple man with extravagant taste. That had been usual through his whole career, especially regarding the Supernatural aesthetic. Yet, in those mundane situations, Jensen almost found it too much. That wasn’t the case, though. If anything, the plain, yet still overpowering words that his green eyes scanned made his body sweat. He could even hear his organs working from the absolute silence of the blame that covered the room. Kripke’s room had never seemed more like an interrogation chamber than now.

The magazine in question held Jensen and your picture on the cover, his arms wrapped around your torso as he pulled you close. The most sequin smile hung from your lips like happiness was something that could be touched on that sunny day in the private park near the studio. Giant and garish letters made the headline along with the subline: Jensen Ackles wearing his Soldier Boy costume caught sharing a passionate kiss with the new arrival of The Boy’s Team: Y/N Y/L/N, also known on-screen as Cangaceira!

His voice came out as an accusation: ‘’What’s this, Jensen?’’

‘’We were…’’ The director just waved his hand to interrupt.

‘’Don’t try saying you were practicing a scene because I wrote the Soldier Boy and Cangaceira kiss, and it wasn’t here.’’ Acid tainted his words with no space for fake niceties on his set. Jensen remained in the chair, not even daring to make the most subtle move. Eric knew where he was hitting, and Ackles deserved a punch in the jaw. “The sex scene wasn’t here either, but you two added a lot of erotic subtext. Trust me, I know.’’

His shoulders fell in exhaustion. ‘’Eric…’’

‘’You’re lucky we were going to make those two a couple anyway. I can just put the kiss here and save your ass. What if that wasn’t the case, huh?’’ the director continued, more interested in spilling out his anger than listening to dumb excuses. ‘’What about Danneel, Jensen? You have a wife and kids, for God’s sake!’’

The breaking point. Jensen rose to his feet with sudden frustration, a growl leaving his lips as he pushed the chair to the side with uncharacteristic brutality. How could Eric bring up his family like this? And how could Jensen’s heart not bring them up when he kissed you before?  It was all a fucking mess, and he had no choice but to choke down whatever came out of it, even if it was poison and spite.

‘’Fuck, Eric! Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think it doesn’t pull me apart every time I go home and know I’m lying to the people who love me?’’ The vein on his neck popped as he spoke, emotion gushing thicker through his arteries than blood. Woe remerged under his skin as he swallowed dryly, resting his hands on the table and looking down. That wasn’t him. He had done a lot of things that weren't him lately. ‘’I have enough guilt here, pal.’’

Eric just glared down at the man’s outburst, furrowing before asking, ‘’What’s going on, Jay? You don’t just get up and cheat on your wife. That ain’t you.’’

He shook his head. ‘’I don’t know. Y/N’s just…’’

‘’At least 20 years younger than you,” he stated. ‘’Just starting her career and might be getting the homewrecker title if someone finds out.’’

‘’I won’t let that happen.’’

‘’How? You are gonna be more careful or will you cut it out and go back to your wife and three kids?’’ When Ackles didn’t respond, Eric sighed. ‘’Just stop this, Jensen. Let her go.’’

Jensen scoffed humorlessly. ‘’I can’t.’’

Kripke felt like talking to a teenager. He shook his head as he got up. ‘’Do you have any idea what you’re doing here? This could destroy your family, destroy Y/N’s chance to make a name when you already have your own. That’s selfish in all proportions, Jensen!’’

‘’I know, I know.’’

‘’She deserves more than this and —’’

‘’I know.’’

‘’You are gonna mess up everyone’s lives —’’

‘’I know!’’ He slammed the table and winced, turning around with his hands on his head. If only he could stop his thoughts for a second and reorganize his feelings. ‘’Do you think it doesn’t rip my heart out that I can’t love her?’’

‘’Who?’’ The burning question was ready to set everything ablaze. ‘’You can’t love Y/N, or you can’t love your wife anymore, Jensen?’’

He couldn’t love you in public. He couldn’t love Danneel anywhere. Love just escaped through his reaches when you spoke his name like a prayer, and it was time to accept that.

‘’Both.’’

NO CHICK FLICK MOMENTS: SOLDIER BOY AND CANGACEIRA TALK ABOUT WHAT TO EXPECT FROM THEIR RELATIONSHIP

‘’It's amazing to portray with Jensen. I’ve watched Supernatural since I was like twelve, which probably isn't advisable.’’ You chortled, answering the reporter’s question. Your body could barely contain your excitement under your skin, although, why would you want that? You did it. You got the job you had dreamed and worked hard for. To a bonus, you were working with Jensen Ackles! If there was someone that had earned the right to scream to the sky until your face was the color of the red carpet your heels currently stood on, it was you. ‘‘I was even a Samgirl!’’

Jensen faked a gasp next to you, a light spectrum surrounding the interview. ‘’Really? Me too!’’

You pushed his shoulder playfully while he chuckled. ‘’Anyway, I'm very excited to be here and portray a strong latina superhero. The representation’s very important, and to be able not only to cherish it, but to be a part of it doing what I love and inspiring people like me is… mythical.’’

‘’Wow, woman!’’ Ackles pursed his lips, clapping a little before shifting his gaze from you to the reporter. ‘’She likes the big words. I swear, dude. She’ll just come and in like, a casual conversation, say something like gelid or whilst, and then she's gonna say dumbass. Both sound smart as heck.’’

You winked. ''It's the accent. Makes everything sound nice.���’

Jensen nodded but was quick to sprinkle in an incendiary remark to his compliments. ‘’Yeah, I have never seen someone confuse coach and couch before. Go sit on the coach got a lot of wrong ideas.’’

‘’Hey, you sat on the coach!’’

‘’Because I’m a good boy.’’

You rolled your eyes despite the grin on your lips. ‘’Sure, mister hours-to-get-ready.’’

‘’Hey, plenty of face masks are needed to keep this — ’’ He pointed at his face. ‘’at fourteen.’’

‘’All I hear is that you’re old.’’ Your eyebrows knitted together. Jensen licked his lips at the sight. On any other day, he’d pick you up, say I’m gonna show you who’s old, and enjoy where your teasing had gotten you two, but he couldn’t do it now. You’d get what was coming to you after the event, perhaps even under the table if your dress allowed it, or in the bathroom, if you kept going.

The mischievous smirk on your cherry-stained lips proved that you knew what was going through his mind. God, you were his sweet death. Nonetheless, Jensen sighed dramatically and looked at the camera. ‘’This is what I have to deal with every day.’’

The reporter went on, happily surprised about how comfortable you and Jensen seemed together. Usually, new coworkers were timider around each other during interviews, especially when they were a romantic pair. The journalist decided to try getting a little sneak peek of the couple aspects of Soldier Boy and Cangaceira.

‘’It's definitely interesting.’’

‘’But not in the best way.’’ The only thing more messed up than Jensen’s relationship with you was the correlation between your characters. At least you and he had the purity of love, even if it was twisted enough to turn heads and churn stomachs

‘’Certainly not in the best way.’’ You agreed, bringing him back into reality as always. ‘’It's really nice to explore a couple that doesn't consist of two white people getting to it like most main characters of the shows in our current climate. It’s not the kind of relationship you should be rooting for — not because it's interracial or anything, that's pretty much the biggest, if not only, positive aspect about those two — but because they aren’t healthy at all, just as all main relationships in our show. It's not a romance series, and we certainly don't treat our couples like it.’’

‘’Told you she is the beauty and the brains.’’ His cheeks dimpled with joy and pride as he looked at you. Jensen knew how excitedly nervous you were about that interview. He couldn’t wait to tell you how great you were like you were born to sell dreams and magazines. ‘’But yeah, it’s a messed up relationship like any other in The Boys. After all, it's not a respectful, wholesome show. It's about gritty superheroes that ain’t got heroism. Soldier Boy isn't a good guy, and it translates in his relationship too.’’

You nodded in agreement, brushing his arm to keep you sane. ‘’It’ll be an interesting dynamic to see on-screen to our show standards, but it's not an actual picture of how a relationship should be.’’

THE BOYS 100TH EPISODE PARTY!

The glimmer of his green comet eyes caught your undivided attention in the throngs of people. The crowd had gathered for his family, his arm around his wife's waist as you both shared a tender, stolen look. You savored her wine and yearned for the man in her arms.

It was just a small celebration due to COVID’s lasting effects on public events. People from the set and their significants together were in the Ackles house for a couple of drinks, small talk, and a cake with The Boy’s comics printed on it.

‘’Aunt Y/N!’’ JJ tugged your dress, her mix of Danneel and Jensen’s features almost haunting your soul. Almost. You would never despise a kid for that — you didn’t even have the right to. If anything, JJ was the one that would graduate to hating you someday. You didn't have enough youthful stupidity not to know the risks of being in love with a married man. ‘’Auntie!’’

You leaned in the most that you could with the red skirt, glancing at the child. ‘’Yes, honey?’’

‘’That’s my new Barbie! I bought a beach one! She looks like you!’’ the blonde kid said with a childish joy that ached in your heart. You could end up destroying her family’s stability if Jensen went any further, yet there she was; buying dolls that looked like you and so happily babbling about it.

You were a monster. Love opened you up and planted greedy seeds, and now you were a monster growing like a beautiful tree that could never be strong enough to hold a kid as they climbed up. The fact that you could sense Jensen’s eyes on your ass didn’t help one bit.

‘’She does! That’s so cute, JJ.’’

‘’You can be her. I have one who looks like mommy, I’ll be her, ‘kay?’’

Your nausea was replaced by a pageant smile and a nod, and so you spent the night sharing longing stares with the dad and playing dolls with the daughter. It was a role that was never yours.

ILLICIT AFFAIR? JENSEN ACKLES SEEN ON THE BEACH WITH Y/N Y/L/N

‘’I can’t believe you did this to me, to our family,‘’ Danneel screamed exasperatedly as she threw her clothes in a bag and heart on the wall. Jensen just stood there, accepting the deserved fury. ‘’Ten years of my life, Jensen, and you just threw it away for a mistress! I gave up on my job to be a stay at home mom because you didn’t want a babysitter. I supported you in every moment. I loved you!’’

‘’I’m sorry…’’

‘’You don’t get to be sorry,” she howled, glaring at him with the hatred of an overthrown nation. She felt like he got to the podium and forgot to say her name. ‘’You let that woman get in my house, drink my wine, talk to my children…’’

Reflexively, he said, ‘’Our.’’

‘’Shut the fuck up! There’s no ours anymore, no us!’’ Her words had garnered a learned violence, much louder than the sound of the zipper closing her duffel bag. She threw the CC exclusive on the floor, holding onto the handle for dear life. He didn’t deserve to see her breaking, only her anger. ‘’You destroyed our family, you destroyed me!’’

He pleaded, unable to discern if it was for her or the guilt: ‘’Dee.’’

‘’I hope you’re happy. I hope you go to her, get her to sleep on our bed, and be happy for a month.’’ She gulped, pursing her lips. Her glossy eyes coupled with the pink hue of her lipstick brought back a treacherous memory of their wedding day. ‘’And then, I hope she cheats, like you did to me.’’

The next headline didn’t call it love.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡

TAGS IN REBLOG!

WANNA BE TAGGED? SEND ME AN ASK/DM

[takebullshit]

About Louis recommending Gerry Cinnamon’s new album...

Not to be that person, but... The lyrics are LOUD. (and the songs are great, go check them out! P.S.: everyone’s already freaking out because if Louis sang one of the songs, his accent would be thick) 

About my thoughts on each song (of course, regarding Larry):

"Canter" 

The song is about living your life to its fullest, about going after what you want. It also kinds of follows the same storyline as Miss You/a bit similar to Always You as well. It’s about going out, partying and everything, but at the end, you miss that one person and it’s all that really matters.

Some of the lyrics: 

“Because the hardest part of the game isn't even playing the game, it's caring enough to care about the things that you're doing”

“They tell you it's no easy, they tell you that it's hard They tell you it's impossible to mend a broken heart The lead role in a tragedy pretending that it's art”

“I coulda write a stanza and put you in a song, detail all the times when you were right and I was wrong Flashbacks to the only place I felt like I belonged You'll never be a king when you're acting like a pawn”

"War Song Soldier"

What I understand from this song is about someone who starts a war with their songs, who use their music as a weapon sort of.

“Now my mouth is a gun Ima let my words rain down”

“I could write a song and pretend it's worth my time”

“Every night we hide Between my dreams and rhymes”

"Where We're Going" 

This one talks about someone who makes mistakes and wishes for another place to live with the happiness the other person is giving them.

“But it seems that in the end I fuck up everything and it's killing me”

“There'll be another place for you and me Endless time, love And nothing really matters, really”

“Rolling in directions that I don't believe Pretending that I'm someone that I'll never be, I will never be I could never be” (!!!)

"Head In The Clouds"

THIS ONE. I swear, it suits larry so much. It’s basically about someone who’s “on the top of the world” and feel lost, unsure of how to act and end up acting like a fool most of the times. To completely understand the feeling, I’d recommend you to listen the whole song and pay attention to the whole lyrics, but there’s a few parts that can sum it up pretty well:

“More late nights of the same old shite than you care to remember”

“You're on top o' the world (...)  They tell you nothin' is free”

“Havin' your fun with two weeks in the sun” (mostly here because I like the reference/coincidence with the “they never go longer than two weeks apart” theory)

“Now you're caught in a game you don't know how to play”

“Where you hide all the things you don't want to be hearin’” “You try not to fight it, so you try to be cool but then act like a fool You don't know how to hide it 'cause it feels like a dream”

“You're still stupid enough to know that you can't run forever On your mind every day ‘cause the pain goes away anytime you're together”

“I don't know if you're really in love but I have my suspicions”

"Dark Days"

Okay, another LOUD one. It’s about having a relationship going through “hard days”, but also using the other’s person strenght (refered as “light”). Also, it talks about the other being a moon beam and about having sun rays and all I could think about was the post I saw saying Louis’ the sun and Harry is the moon.

“You were a moon beam in the sky”

“Longing for the day, I threw myself into your light unthreatened by the night”

“Nothing stays the same but still the world is turning, at least there's some things never change”

“Dark days, these are dark days, but I heard that there's an easier way These are the best days that you're ever gonna have”

“Dark days, but I got sun rays 'cause I know that there's an easier way to love” (!!!)

"The Bonny"

I have a feeling this is something more familiar to Louis, if he relates to the song in some level, mostly because of this lyrics:

“For the people that you loved and lost That you never got to tell goodbye”

"Sun Queen"

This is a nice one, about fame and being in a band, also about a lover that is refered as “The Sun Queen” (that connects with Louis, as he’s always called “sunshine” by the fans and has references to it in Harry’s songs as well).

“Sing my songs, never thought I'd make it this far (...) Lived my life, I can prove it 'cause I got scars”

“She said she had a thing for James Dean and the music from the 50s”

“Faded memories of a young team”

“Fakes in bands only wanna get wasted They wear nice clothes but they'll never even taste it Ripped off songs, first you copy then you paste it”

“The boy's got soul but he musta misplaced it”

"Outsiders"

This one is a quite dark one, in my opinion. I feel it as a song about the demons in your head, even not believing your partner’s love for you anymore. I don’t know if there’s different meanings, but the main feeling I get from it is someone being reluctant about going to places because they feel out of place because of those demons in their head.

“I got some bright ideas (...) and it burns inside”

“I don't wanna come in cause beneath this smile I'm dying on the inside”

“I don't care if I win, it's a sin”

“I spill my guts again I cut my heart out in a piss stained field While you scream don't shout Till I believe again My heart is open But my fates still sealed”

(Maybe if Louis relates to that would be in a sense that he’s opening up, but he still can’t change his “fate”, even if he’s letting down his guard. And that he’s vulnerable, but he needs to be convinced about love again.)

"Roll The Credits"

This is very sad break up song. Since we all assume they broke up at least once, according to their lyrics, it also can be related to it, it’s a pretty strong break up song.

“It's over, so why do you need me to answer your questions like we're still alive” “I told ya, all your words they mislead me to think cause our bodies ain't broken our hearts might survive”

“The tracks of your tears let me know that you've cried”

“Roll the credits there's no happy ending The monsters got over the wall and tore us apart Pull the curtain there's no use pretending”

"Mayhem"

I got a feeling this song it’s originally about cheating or something like that, but can also be seen as someone making a mistake and (again) about feeling lost. (quick comment that this song is amazing, my favourite from the album)

“Mayhem in your eyes”

“I spat on the pavement ignoring the demons inside”

“Home is where I belong I promise I'll do no more wrong I might even sing you a song”

"Six String Gun"

I feel like this is about using the music as a weapon again, trying to be truthful to yourself but feeling alone. Talking about Louis, I guess it relates to the same way of “War Song Solider” and I thought of “Only The Brave” listening to it, so idk.

The lyrics are amazing and pretty short, so here they are:

“Well I try to be an honest man I do my bit when I can I might fall but I have my fun Sometimes I feel I'm the only one With a six string gun The world's on fire and the gods know it So we don't pray anymore Our eyes burn in a red hot sun Sometimes I feel I'm the only one With a six string gun”

"Every Man's Truth"

Even if I don’t think it’s exactly Larry related, it criticizes the society as a whole so I guess it’s valid (also wouldn’t let only one song out). Also, another great song either way, it’s worth checking out.

A little bit of the lyrics:

“Odds on That the world is run by criminals And we're all controlled by subliminals Consuming like our minds are haunted By the things we didn't need but wanted”

Well, those are the songs in the Gerry Cinnamon’s album, “The Bonny”.  Check the album, it’s great!

I feel like we tend to listen to and recommend songs based not only on how much we appreciate it, but also how much we can relate to it. So, I’m not affirming Larry is real because of those lyrics, I’m just saying that, since I believe Larry is real and it is, I believe Louis can relate to the songs in a intimate level since he talks about how lyrics are important to him.

[chaotictommy]

Chapter II. of

Chapter II. Flashback to a Different Start

It was close to Christmas and Dutch couldn't stop thinking about how Jimmy had come crashing into his life... he couldn't help but smile at the flashback.

Jimmy remembered that Christmas like this:

"Okay, when I said 'Ugly sweater,' I completely didn't mean that... that's really ugly... that's like ugly grew up and married ugly and made a baby with ugly... you see where I'm going man?" Dutch greeted when the other Cobra's entered his house. — Dutch had been his completely asinine self.

"But, I like this sweater..." James Jones had muttered shyly as he glanced around, falling into step with his best friend, Bobby Brown, who had shot him a quick glance and smile "It's nice man, it's a nice sweater, that's just Dutch being Dutch, an asshole... but a love-able one," Jimmy shrugged "It's a piece of crap actually, it's real worn and everything, it belonged to my dad..." "And I can obviously see that the man had Great taste," Dutch stated sarcastically before nodding at the dark haired boy "What's your name again?" "James, James Dean Jones," curse his shyness, he couldn't even make eye contact. — He had been terrified to make eye contact with Dutch.

Dutch had nodded stiffly and sucked on his lower lip "I'm not calling you all that... I'm gonna call you Jimmy. You good with that?" Jimmy grinned "Fine by me, oh, and what kind of name is Dutch anyway?"

The taller one in the group with the sandy hair looked up from playing soda pong with a blonde boy "That's just a nickname I gave him..." Dutch nodded "Tommy's right, my actual name is Jan Van Der Linde, but Tommy decided to just call me Dutch and it stuck, just like my annoying friend here," "Well I know what I am, but what are you?" Tommy shot back as he laughed and Jimmy smiled, instantly liking the sandy haired boy, Tommy.

Jimmy was just settling into a comfortable argument about the inconsistencies in the Star Wars universe, with Bobby Brown, when he felt a hand reach out, scrabble along his wrist, and take the piece of mini pizza from his hand...

"HEY! Who did that!?"

"You know if you feed him, he'll never leave you alone... it's kind of a curse." He met eyes with the blonde who introduced himself as Johnny Lawrence, as he snatched the pizza back from Tommy and handed it to its rightful owner.

"Thanks." Jimmy playfully glared at Tommy who shrugged "You weren't eating it, it was staring at me, man,"

The charismatic blonde shot him with a smile "You seen Gremlins?" Jimmy grinned politely "Yeah, hasn't everyone?" He shuddered, half joking when he said "I hate the blender scene..." Johnny chuckled and gestured with his thumb at Tommy "That there is a Gremlin to put all other Gremlins to shame... that's Tommy Cole by the way, don't feed him or he'll stick to you like glue..." Tommy grinned and stuck his tongue out at Johnny "I'm rubber, you're glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you..." he stated childishly and Jimmy couldn't hold in a laugh which turned into a burst of loud laughter as Tommy rewarded him with a innocent smile.

Halfway through the party and Tommy announced loudly that he thought Dutch had done a disservice to the Christmas Holiday by not hanging Christmas lights.

So that's how Jimmy found himself on the roof of the Van Der Linde's house with an overexcited Tommy and a bunch of Christmas lights they were unwinding.

"You should really come with a warning label." Jimmy muttered as he caught Tommy as the other youth slipped and almost fell off the roof.

"I will ignore you so hard you will start doubting your existence." Tommy chuckled softly and kept stringing the lights over the house while Jimmy laughed and quirked an eyebrow up playfully and opened his mouth, liking how he could suddenly banter so easily with Tommy, forgetting his shy nature completely, he whistled a little, teasingly "Everyone's entitled to act stupid once in a while, but you really abuse the privilege."

Tommy glanced over and sent him a mischievous smile "If I threw a stick, you'd leave, right?"

Jimmy shrugged, feeling like ribbing another person was actually fun "woah man, light travels faster than sound which is why you seemed bright until you spoke. You might wanna do light a favor and stop talking..." Tommy playfully punched his shoulder which sent both of them sliding off the broken tiles of the roof.

When Jimmy's eyes flashed open, he saw Tommy was hanging upside down, suspended in Christmas lights. With a struggle Jimmy managed to tug himself up onto the safety of the roof and called out for Dutch or anyone else for help. After getting Tommy back up and down to the ground, it was not easy explaining what had happened to the bleached blonde who was furious at them.

He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest "Good story, but in what chapter do you both shut up?" He muttered loudly and glared "It's really good you both weren't hurt... I'm too drunk to drive just any blockhead to the hospital," he sighed and ushered them inside after they admired the lit up exterior.

Tommy had nodded to that comment Dutch had made and smirked “Yeah? I guess you gotta wait to drive yourself then, cause you are one special blockhead...” that comment had landed Tommy a one way ticket into oblivion as Dutch started throwing snowball after snowball at him while Jimmy dodged around and had managed to dump a huge amount of snow on Dutch’s head... earning himself a closer view of the bleached blonde as the guy had decided to tackle Jimmy and hold him down while he pelted the other’s face with snow and straddled him... the kiss had come unexpectedly and Dutch had denied its existence straight after. They had gone back to staring at the decorations, Jimmy reeling from the kiss that ‘never happened’ but totally had.

Dutch frowned "Hmmm, doesn't look half bad..." he stated before tugging the other two into the house in what would become a Christmas to remember.

He had been silently impressed by the decorating skills. (End flashback)

Dutch remembered it differently... but — no, he couldn't...

anyway, this Christmas would be badass... something caught his eye

Looking up, he noticed Jimmy hanging Christmas decorations with Tommy and Bobby, and thinking nothing of it, he walked past.

Well, he couldn’t admit to himself that he’d been staring at... nooooooooo.

Tommy, being the bat out of hell crazy chaotic, as usual, decided to help his shy friend out and kicked the ladder out from under him, Jimmy falling off the top rung, a terrified scream coming from his lips.

Dutch turned and got over there, just in time to catch Jimmy in his arms.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Dutch rolled his eyes "Why does it seem that I'm always saving you from falling?" He laughed

Bobby ribbed Tommy in the side "What the hell are you doing?" He stated angrily in a whisper while Tommy played at innocence "Just playing Secret Santa..." Tommy stated innocently, even though there was that twinge again like he’d been hurt... he forced a smile, twirling Bobby around on the desk chair he was on as he decked the other boy in tinsel, leaning close to his ear “Merry Christmas Bobby,”

[huntertales]

Part One: Slippery Little Snake. (Dog Dean Afternoon S09E05)

Episode Summary: While investigating two bizarre murders, Y/N and the boys realize there is an eyewitness to both gruesome deaths--a German Shepard. Anxious to find out what monsters they are dealing with, the three look up a spell that can help communicate with the dog. When Dean decides to be the one to perform the spell, he quickly realizes it comes with side effects no one saw coming.  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4,356.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Best cure of all.”

You grimaced at the sight of Dean’s infamous hangover cure he swore was the key to getting over the consequences of drinking from the previous night before. You and the boys had given Kevin a chance to cut loose and enjoy himself away from his responsibilities in hopes it might help make the kid feel more refreshed. Only it seemed the opposite reaction happened. Kevin complained of a headache that wouldn’t go away and feeling nauseous to the point he feared he might throw up. You didn’t think he would have taken it so hard, and he was such a lightweight. Luckily through the complaints of an upset stomach and how the room spinned he managed to keep down the food you offered him.

Dean suggested an infamous Winchester speciality that might be able to kick this hangover in its ass, his own words. You watched in disturbance as Kevin drank two glasses of the stuff. The sight made you flashback to your younger pre-hunting days where you were a lightweight compared to the way a Winchester could handle their alcohol. Dean always could drink you under the table, not that you tried to keep up with him when you drank with him. The next morning you suffered the consequences almost exactly like Kevin had. Dean swore the drink he created helped. You swallowed it down and a few minutes later you threw up everything you had drank from the night before, and anything else that hadn’t digested yet. You admitted the stuff made you feel better. But you wouldn’t touch that stuff ever again.

You told Kevin to keep resting up and sleep off the hangover for a little while longer. When you were sure the kid was going to be fine on his own, you and Dean made your way to the war room where Sam had been occupying for a little while. He sat at the table with his laptop open and doing a little bit of research, hopefully accomplishing something better than the fiasco you had endured just a few minutes ago.

“Wow.” Dean’s approaching voice made his brother turn his attention away from the screen for a moment to see the both of you appeared to be beside yourselves in what you just went through. Sam gave you a confused expression, wondering what the problem was. “Kevin. Just poured some buffalo milk down his gob twice.”

“Buffalo milk?” Sam repeated what his brother just said, not exactly sure if he wanted to know where the man managed to get his hands on the suff. You sat on the edge of the table as Dean placed his hands on the back of an empty rolling chair next to his brother and leaned his body forward.

“Yeah, Dean’s infamous hangover cure-all. It’s apparently got everything in it. Except buffalo milk. God, the smell of it alone brought me back to my early twenties.” You mumbled, your nose scrunching up at the past memories you wished stayed buried. “Hopefully it’ll help Kevin from puking anymore of his guts out.”

“How is that kid still recovering from Branson?” Sam had seen his fair share of lightweights in his time, but there might have been nobody who couldn’t tolerate alcohol the way Kevin showed he wasn’t able to. You shrugged your shoulders from the lack of answers. The poor kid was a lost cause. You figured he would have taken the first chance he got to crawl into a bottle in some kind of attempt to bury the trauma that came from the chaos that ensued.

“What can I say? He’s an amateur.” Dean said. You scoffed as your reaction, feeling that was an understatement from the way you left the poor kid. “The slippery nipple shots at the Dolly Parton Dixie Stampede nearly killed the guy.”

“All right. Well, I got something that’s gonna get us back on the road.” Sam offered a change of subject to something he thought his brother might be interested in hearing. The older man took a seat next to him as you leaned over to take a quick peek at the screen, wondering what kind of case it was.

“Great.” You said. “I’ve been itching to stretch my legs and get out there again.”

Dean turned his head to your direction when you voiced your happiness of tagging along. The man was hesitant about letting you back out there after the favor Ezekial had done for him, and the warning of the consequences of furthering his stay. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

You furrowed your brow from his question, “Why would I not be ready for that?”

“Aren’t you kind of running on empty?” Dean asked in concern.

“Yeah, but the last three nights straight, I had eight hours of shut-eye. And for a hunter, that’s like twenty.” You tried to talk the man into letting you do your damn job without restrictions. You looked over at Sam to see the young man was hesitant himself about giving you the chance to tag along on a hunt. You rolled your eyes from the way they were acting. “Trust me, guys. I feel good.”

“Well, that’s great and all, but you’re still recovering from the trials. I think you ought to pace yourself, you know? And the sooner you heal…” Dean reminded you of a little fact he thought slipped your mind. You crossed your arms over your chest at the flimsy excuse he thought was going to work on you. When he trailed off and fell silent for a moment, you raised your brow in curiosity as to what he was going to say next. “Sam and I just want you back to your old self.”

“I am, guys. I know my body better than anyone else. Not to mention the fact that Kevin’s back on the heaven spell. Crowley’s locked up. We should be out there doing what we do best.” You said. The boys thought otherwise from their unspoken actions that said more than they were willing to admit. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as Dean leaned back in his seat and kicked up one of his legs to the table. The man tried to get a word into the argument, but you stopped him before he could. “Sammy, what’s this case you got for us?”

“Uh, a taxidermist named Max Alexander mysteriously crushed to death. Nearly every joint in his body dislocated, every bone broken.” Sam read off the gory details that caught his attention in the first place. “Poor guy is a human pretzel.”

“Tell me, Dean, what’s got that kind of strength?” You asked him, curious to see what his response was going to be since he had so much to say just a minute ago.

“A demonic luchador?” Dean made little effort into trying to make an education assumption to what might be the cause behind the out of ordinary death.

“Shop’s a couple hours away in Enid, Oklahoma.” Sam said. “We should at least check it out.”

“Unless the boss man thinks there’s some reason we shouldn’t.” You directed your gaze back over to the older Winchester to hear what he had to say. A smile crept to the edges of your lips from the way he fell silent. The response to his defeat. You slid off the table and back to your feet to get started on the packing that was ahead of you. Before you did, you wanted to make one thing clear. “Don’t forget the fact that I kicked your ass just the other day. And I’ll gladly do it again.”

You went on your way from stating the small fact you thought was enough proof to get you back on hunting without them worrying about your health. Dean let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand down his face from your ever growing stubborn behavior. “I swear, I don’t even know why I even bother with her.”

+ + +

You and the boys arrived in Oklahoma a few hours later, the first stop on your list was checking out the crime scene that was still crawling with cops. The first suspicious thing you noticed before even walking into the building was the threat painted on the front entrance of Max Alexander’s taxidermy business. “Die Scum” was written in all capital letters. Whoever painted the threat wanted to get their message across loud as possible. And someone made sure to keep to the painted words. You wondered if it was done by the same person. A few monsters liked to taunt their victims before going in for the thrill of the kill.

Sam noticed something in the letter M that was worth pointing out. You noticed it was an upside down triangle with what appeared to be a paw print. He snapped a quick picture with his phone for future research and headed inside with the rest of you. Taxidermy was something you didn’t give much of a second thought about. However when you stepped into Max’s business, you found yourself surrounded by endless animals of all sorts, all dead and stuffed for display. Animals’ heads mounted to the wall, birds frozen in mid flight, wild cats bearing their sharp fangs appearing as if they were ready to attack. There was some sort of strange craft to stuffing a dead animal and making it look realistic.

“Well, the creep factor just skyrocketed.” Dean mumbled, eyeing the dozens of dead animals surrounding him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” A sheriff stopped the three of you, not sure who you were. 

“How are you? I’m Special Agent Chaplin.” You introduced yourself to him, flashing your fake FBI badge to the man. “These are my partners Agent Michaels and DeVille.”

“The body’s already been to the morgue. Just wrapping it up with Dave Stephens. He’s the one who discovered the boy.” The sheriff explained. You looked over to see an older man leaning against the register, still distraught from the events he thought would have never happened in a million years. “Such a shame. I used to go hunting with Max. He was a real good egg.”

“Sorry for your loss.” Dean gave his condolences to the officer. “You mind showing my partner around? Agent Chaplin and I have a couple of questions for Mr. Stephens.”

The sheriff nodded his head and gestured for Sam to follow him into the next room where the murder took place. You and Dean approached the older man, figuring he might know a thing or two that might be helpful in discovering if this case might be worth your while.

“Dave Stephens?” You asked. You and Dean flashed your badges once again at the man, “My partner and I have got a couple of questions for you if that’s all right.”

“I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.” Dave responded without an ounce of hesitation. “Max was a real pal.”

“Hunting buddy?” You wondered. You smiled ever so slightly when you saw his expression immediately change into surprise from how you were able to answer correctly in one guess. You had a feeling it was a common hobby among the locals from the sight of this place. “So, about what time did you discover the body?”

“About nine A.M.—my usual pickup time.” Dave answered. “I come in every Wednesday and Sundays to collect the entrails.”

You furrowed your brow from the terminology. “The entrails?”

“The animal organs. After Max would dig them out and work his magic.” Dave said. “He was a real artist, you know?”

You discovered what kind of magic Max was able to do with the creatures he was given. You found your attention lingering away from the conversation for a moment when you spotted Sam exploring the man's collection. You quickly bit your bottom lip to keep a smile from spreading across your lips at the little creature he was holding that appeared to be dressed as a character from Game of Thrones. Sam amused himself from the expression that crossed his face. Dean found it nothing more than bizarre as to why a grown man would waste his time putting so much effort into such a thing.

“Strange thing is, though,” The both of you quickly turned your full attention back to Dave to hear what else he had to say, pretending as if you were distracted by something childish. “bins were empty this morning.”

“Why is that strange?” Dean asked.

“Well, because it’s a Sunday. Weekend hunts are pretty much a given in this neck of the woods, so they’re usually chock-full of guts.” Dave explained as to why it was out of the ordinary for him.

“Any chance Max could have cleaned them out himself?” You wondered.

“No. It’s a biohazard. You can’t just throw the stuff out.” Dave said. You were learning all sorts of things about animal organs today, more than you ever wanted in your entire life. “You gotta burn it.”

“Huh. The more you know.” You gave him a polite smile from his explanation you could have gone without. You looked over to the sheriff when he approached the three of you again. “Is there anything else missing from the shop?”

“No.” The sheriff said. “The register was full, and the safe was intact. And all of Max’s trophies were still on the walls.”

“And was there anybody else here when you showed up?” Dean asked. 

“No one. No, other than the Colonel.” Dave chuckled and looked over his shoulder to Max’s pet. You felt a smile stretch across your lips at the sight of a German Shepard. 

Sam finished up his search around the crime scene and headed back over to you and his brother. You smiled at the sheriff and Dave, excusing yourself and walking over to another part of the shop where there was nobody else around to have a private conversation of your own to discuss what you found. You had a feeling this was going to be a worthwhile case after all. Everything was adding up with unusual circumstances.

“Okay, so,” You stood with your back to the crime scene, catching up with the younger man about everything you were able to learn in the short time. “We’ve got a thief who’s jonesing for animal parts, we’ve got a pagan symbol, and we’ve got a human pretzel.”

“Yeah, it all sounds very witch-y, but I wasn’t able to find a hex bag.” Sam said, putting a hole in his own theory to what might be to blame for the taxidermist’s death.

“All right, well, let’s keep digging. But not here.” Dean suggested. He didn’t move right away. You noticed his eyes wandered up to a part of the shop that kept his attention. You followed his gaze to see the man was staring at a stuffed owl hanging up on a high shelf, its yellow eyes fixated on the huner in a way that made him uncomfortable. “I don’t like the way that one’s looking at me.”

You stifled a laugh from his paranoid behavior and softly nudged him in the arm to get moving. The three of you still needed to get settled into a motel and started on research to figure out what was the cause of Max Alexander’s death. You took one more curious glance at the owl before heading out the front door.

+ + +

“Okay, that symbol in the graffiti, it’s…not wiccan. It’s copywritten.” Sam worked right away on trying to figure out what the strange symbol you had seen back at the crime scene. The search took little effort into finding its source. You walked over to the man, dropping the shirt you pulled out from your bag you pulled out to change into and out of your fed clothes. He held out his laptop for Dean to take so the both of you could take a look at the homepage for yourselves. “Local animal rights group, Enid’s answer to PETA.”

“S.N.A.R.T.?” Dean read off the animal rights’ group and its terrible name they thought was a good idea. It stood for Showing No Animal Rough Treatment. You didn’t know if you should laugh or at least give them credit for trying to be original. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Well, it makes sense that an animals-rights group would have an axe to grind with a taxidermist.” Sam said.

“Why?” Dean asked, not seeing the connection between the two. “The animals’ already dead.”

“Yeah, but hunters are what keep them in business.” You added on. “Now the question is, are those bleeding hearts actually witches or just hippies?”

Dean glanced up from the laptop screen and to you, proposing a question. “What’s the difference?”

+ + +

The difference between the two that one was capable of murder. You took doubt in the fact that a group of animal rights activists would go far as committing murder. But when you added the element of witchcraft that’s when the lines between right and wrong started to grow blurry. You and the boys decided to speak to a couple of the members after tracking them down to a vegan bakery called Gentle Earth. Business was booming with customers enjoying a plant-based meal inside and passing by a couple of women walking out with a cup of all organic and overly expensive coffee, ethically sourced you guessed.

“Always knew I’d find the source of all evil at a vegan bakery.” Dean muttered. The man felt out of his element from the people he was surrounded by.

Sam sniffed the air, finding an odor he couldn’t place his finger on. “What’s that smell?”

“Patchouli. Yeah, mixed with depression from meat deprivation.” Dean said. You rolled your eyes from the way he was acting in such an immature fashion. His strong beliefs were radical as those who thought eating animal products were cruel and unusual. The man drew your attention to the front counter when he spotted the owners waiting on a few customers. He was quick to point out a fashion accessory that was a bit odd from the setting that didn’t require them. “Hey. You know who wears sunglasses inside? Blind people. And douchebags.”

You let out a quiet sigh and shook your head from the way he was acting, heading up to the counter to have a discussion with the owners. “Olivia and Dylan Camrose?” You asked the couple. Olivia nodded and smiled. “You two are members of S.N.A.R.T, correct?”

“Founders and co-presidents, actually.” Olivia corrected you about the role they played in the activist group. She playfully bumped shoulders with her husband, both of them sharing matching smiles from the hard work they loved doing. Olivia reached out and grabbed a brochure that was kept near a display of their desserts, presuming all of you were curious for being part of a good cause. “Can we interest you in some literature?”

You politely shook your head. “Or a flaxseed scone?” Dylan asked. You looked down at the pastry that appeared to be tasty at first glance, until you heard the lack of ingredients that made it vegan. “It’s wheat-free, gluten-free, sugar-free, and surprisingly moist.”

“Let me stop you right there.” Dean was quick to end this conversation before he could get roped any further into this hippie lifestyle he wanted nothing to do with. He pulled out his badge to flash it at the couple and got to the reason why you were here in the first place. “We’re here to investigate the death of Max Alexander, a local taxidermist.”

Olivia placed the brochure to the counter, her body growing stiff at the unexpected news. “He’s…dead?”

“You knew him?” You asked.

“Ish. Um…” She glanced over to her husband before finishing her response. “small town.”

“Well, he was murdered last night, and a S.N.A.R.T. logo was found at the crime scene.” Sam informed the couple. All though their eyes were covered with a pair of dark shades, the man could see the couples’ body language change in a way that made him suspicious. “You two wouldn’t have to know anything about that, would you?”

The couple thought it would be best for everyone to move this conversation somewhere else. All of you moved to an empty table in the middle of the bakery to hear their side of the story and fill in the gaps of that night.

“His business is funded by hunters. And you know how hunters are.” Dylan immediately lost you from the point he was trying to make. He was more than happy to elaborate on his view of them. “They’re selfish dicks who define themselves by what they kill.”

You had to admit you were a little offended by their presumption, despite the type of hunters who they were talking about was the complete opposite of what you did. “And as animal advocates, we couldn’t stand for that.” Olivia added on.

“So, you killed him?” Sam questioned the couple. 

“Of course not.” Olivia said. She was awfully quick to shoot down the accusation that was simply false. “S.N.A.R.T. doesn’t tolerate violence.”

“Huh. This is coming from a couple who spray-paints death threats.” Dean said, bringing up the red flag that seemed out of character for someone who advocated for the complete opposite for animals lives.

“It was a scare tactic.”Dylan defended himself. “We just wanted to spook him.”

“Turns out we were the ones who got spooked.” Olivia admitted. You wondered exactly what she meant by that, causing her to elaborate even further on her story. She passed a glance over at her husband, who nodded his head, feeling it was the right thing to do in order to set the record straight. “Well, last night, when we were tagging the joint, we heard this noise.”

“A hissing noise.” Dylan added.

“It freaked us out, so we ran into the alley.” Olivia continued on.

“But someone attacked us.”

“Sprayed us in the eyes with mace.”

“And it's not like we could go to the cops.”

“So, now we look like total douchebags because we have to wear our sunglasses inside.” Olivia gave the reason why the couple was forced to wear the dark shades indoors, making them feel exactly like what Dean had said earlier. You didn’t even bother looking over at the older man to see his smug smile at his judgement that turned out to be right.

The couple took off their sunglasses to show the damage that had been done to them from the surprise pepper spray attack. You winced at the scarring around their eyes that sure didn’t look like it was caused by something like pepper spray. It almost appeared to be acid burns from the extent of the physical damages. Dean subtly wagged his index finger, signaling for them to put the shades back on after finding the burns a little too uncomfortable to keep staring at.

+ + +

You did a little research of your own after you made it back to the motel and changed out of your fed clothes for some jeans and a shirt. Something about the burn like wounds the couple had gotten didn’t seem to add up. And you were right about your suspicions.

“Necrosis?” Dean read off the medical term you discovered, wondering what it meant.

“Premature death of tissues—that’s why their eyes were all messed up.” You said. “And it’s not caused by mace.”

“All right.” Dean twisted off the cap to his beer and tossed it to the sink. He leaned over your shoulder and placed a hand on the table to steady himself in doing so. He read off the medical information about black eyes from the page you pulled up. "What causes it?"

“Right here.” You placed a finger on the screen and began to read off something from the paragraph that might explain the reason behind the couples’ painful looking burns. “‘Blunt force, radiation, venom.’”

“As in ‘snake’?” Dean guessed from the sounds of it.

“The taxidermist was constricted. Olivia and Dylan heard hissing, and they were sprayed in the eyes. By venom. Sounds snake-y to me. I say if it does turn out to be that, we should skin it and turn it into a fabulous pair of boots.” You suggested. Dean chuckled at your joke, taking a seat from across from you at the table. “Bet S.N.A.R.T would love that.”

“Okay, so…what are we talking here,” Dean said, deciding to get serious for a moment to try and figure out what you might be hunting. “Some sort of freaky-ass snake monster?”

“Maybe.” You mumbled. You fell silent for a moment trying to figure out how all of this added up to make proper sense with what knowledge you had about the reptilians. “The weird thing is snakes either envenomate or constrict. No snake does both.”

“Correction,” Dean said. “freaky-ass mega-snake monster.”

You quietly chuckled to yourself before throwing out your best guess as to what it might be. “It could be a vetala.”

“Yeah, but they’re not afraid to sink their fangs in. Taxidermist was bite free. It doesn’t really fit the profile.” Dean reminded you about the small detail. You nodded your head. A sigh fell from your lips at the lack of leads you had at the moment. Dean came to your rescue of adding another pair of hands to the night of research ahead for you and Sam. “Call Kevin. Have him look some stuff up.”

You shut your laptop and reached for your phone when you decided to do just that. It wouldn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands on the case while you figured out what you were hunting. You just hoped the poor kid still wasn’t feeling hungover. The internet only had so much information at your fingertips, the Men of Letters’ library would hopefully have the answers you were looking for. You needed to find out and quick, before another life could be taken. 

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink  // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner  // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha //   @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink //  @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans //  @icantfindacreativeurl //  @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love

Message me if you would like to be added!

[roswelldetails]

RNM 2x12 - Crash Into Me

EPISODE SUMMARY:

WELCOME TO CRASHCON — As the town prepares for CrashCon, Liz (Jeanine Mason) and Max (Nathan Dean) attempt to piece together who may be behind a potentially deadly plan targeting the festival.  Elsewhere, Maria (Heather Hemmens) and Isobel (Lily Cowles) take drastic measure to learn more about the night Mimi (guest star Sherri Saum) disappeared, while Michael (Michael Vlamis) is forced to do someone else’s bidding.

DETAILS:

Max is secretly practicing with his powers.  Was Max's "light cardio" actually just him trying to strengthen his powers?

Max has a land line. Hee. Which Liz doesn't mind answering for him.

Liz is looking for a pen on his desk when she finds the empty vials of the antidote.  Max plays them off as being leftover from when he had amnesia.

Liz mentions that the phone call was Max's bank calling to verify a deposit for him. 

Max is choosing not to worry about Michael because he and Isobel can feel that he's not badly injured or in serious danger.

Liz called Dirk:

"He said before she left she was getting nonstop calls from a 575 number. The Sunset Mesa facility where Mimi DeLuca lives."

"Wait, Mimi was calling your mom before the abductions?...Mimi was always obsessed with alien movies. Maybe fiction and reality are blurring. Your mom is working with Flint Manes who spent years making an alien-killing weapon while at Caulfield. What if your mom found out Rosa was killed by an alien? She'd want revenge."

Note: Max and I apparently think alike, because this was my assumption going into the episode as well. For the sake of detailing and not making this confusing plotline any more confusing...Max and I were both wrong. 

Also, I love that they mentioned cell service issues during Crash Con.  That is extremely realistic and makes a ton of sense, speaking from experience at like, concerts and baseball playoff games and such.

Maria gets Liz's voicemail and immediately confronts Mimi.

"I just got a message from Liz. Mom...when you disappeared, it was Helena Ortecho that took you...You didn't have butyricol in your system when they found you. You know Liz's mom. You'd remember if you spent a month with her.  Mom, are you covering for Helena?"

"Everything is going to be fine."

"I'm not fine. Alex and Michael are missing."

"Helena is a lot of things, but she won't hurt your friends. I'm sure… (Isobel walks in) You're the blonde. The one that Rosa was afraid of."

"Hi Mimi...I'm your cool Aunt Isobel.  Hopefully we can get to know each other under better circumstances sometime. Sure about this DeLuca?"

"Desperate times call for desperate alien invasions."

Isobel's first trip into Mimi's mindscape:

"Show me what happened the night you disappeared, Mimi."

Mimi turns to see headlights approaching. It's the hunting van. Helena is driving it. After they greet each other they talk in the van.

"I saw her. I saw her in a vision.

"I didn't believe you. I had to see it with my own eyes."

"You saw her.  You saw Rosa."

Flashback to Liz and Rosa arguing over Rosa's necklace in 2x01.  Just as a note, Isobel is in Mimi's head, not Helena's, so she shouldn't really be able to see this flashback since Mimi wasn't there when Helena saw Rosa.

"This is a good thing, Helena. Your daughter is alive. She needs you."

"When Jim Valenti was dying, I came home to say goodbye. He kept saying Rosa could live again, that she was preserved."

"But you didn't believe him. No one ever believes us."

"If Rosa is alive, it means Jim was telling the truth. Which means everything else he said could be true, like aliens are real and Jesse Manes has a weapon that can kill them. It means I have to go to war, Mimi. First, you need some shoes."

Then Mimi somehow kicks Isobel out of her memories, which gives Isobel a nosebleed. But Mimi doesn't seem to know what happened.  It's almost like she has a kind of subconscious protection on her own mind, somehow.

Note: the hunting van must not be Flint's, because Helena is driving it when she first considers teaming up with Flint, I assume based on the above.  Maybe she was the suspicious figure in Flint's house when Max and Kyle were hiding in the closet? And what about the car that Rosa blew up? Did she have access to multiple vehicles? Am I overthinking this?? Haha.

Kyle's tip to Max:

"I found this at Flint's, but it's from a florist my dad used when he was in the doghouse with my mom. I finally guessed the password today. Rosa's birthday. The only thing on it is a note my dad wrote to Helena. It's a lot of romantic crap followed by details for a storage unit he had up near Haystack Mountain."

Haystack Mountain is an off-road vehicle recreation area about 30 miles northeast of Roswell.

Michael working on the "bomb". Charlie is working on the toxin nearby and Helena is keeping an eye on both of them.

"This entire process would be more efficient if I could attach the release chamber to the other side."

"Ay, mijo. Now is not the time to get creative. Time is running out. Follow the blueprints exactly."

"You don't look like an obedient soldier. Who'd she take to force you to do her bidding?"

"A friend. It's complicated. Why are you helping her? Jenna's free."

"Flint Manes has a sniper rifle on the roof pointed at her bedroom window. If I step out of line and something happens…"

"You'll never forgive yourself."

"I'll never forgive myself anyway. Helena has me formulating a pathogen that I invented when I was 17.  It's a poison that dismantles specific DNA. If targeted your death is quick and ugly. A bleeding from every orifice kind of deal… I thought that I was saving people. Okay, imagine a weapon that you could drop into a populated city and the only people targeted would be al-Qaeda leaders and their direct descendants. Okay? In the right hands my weapon could prevent innocent civilian casualties and save our troops."

"I'm guessing these are not the right hands? Why am I building the bomb when the inventor is under Helena's thumb?"

"I do chemicals, not mechanics. And technically it's not a bomb. It's a catalytic toxin atomizer that was developed in a top secret operation involving weapons specialists from both the Army and the Air Force."

"Project Shepherd. One more question for you, Charlie. Whose DNA is that poison you're making gonna target?"

"Judging from conversations I've heard between Helena and Flint, it's alien DNA. Like, literal aliens."

This is actually the part of this story that's crystal clear to me. We've been getting tidbits on this dating back to 1x12, when Flint told Alex about his "smart bomb".  Jesse told Jenna in 2x04 about Charlie's toxin that could pinpoint specific DNA, and even used a similar metaphor in explaining it as Charlie did in this episode. The part that doesn't make sense to me is, why did FLINT need Michael to build it, if he developed the blueprints?

Liz and Rosa in the lab discussing Max taking the antidote.

"He's only supposed to take a drop when he has amnesia. It's not vitamin C. In high doses it could cause surges of adrenaline that could be dangerous."

"No offense, but you sound like a mom. Like a real mom, the kind who actually give a duck. Oh I just figured out what autocorrect is. It's hilarious."

"Speaking of moms, ours hasn't reached out to any of your old dealers and she hasn't shown up at any of the churches in town, so you got any other ideas?"

"It's CrashCon. We usually find her wearing the loudest t-shirts and flirting with the richest nerds."

"Yeah, but Flint and Jesse Manes hate aliens. I mean it's literally their only hobby. If she's with them, I'm betting she's lost her affection for the simple charms of UFO novelty kitch."

"Wait, if you were going to get revenge on aliens, CrashCon is the perfect place. There's all kinds of conspiracy theorists and press. You know how mom loves attention."

"You think something's gonna happen tonight?" 

"Papi is there by himself setting up. I think he should come home."

Note: my phone autocorrected duck to fuck. So I guess that tells you something about me. 😳

Also I just realized that for once ROSA and not Liz is the one who put the pieces together! Good for her. I wonder if that's purposeful since she's the daughter who is more like their mom? Like, she understands Helena's motivations better than Liz or something.

Steph and her father are going to CrashCon together. Kyle helps her with her makeup. Super sweet, but rather pointless since the scenes of Steph at CrashCon were cut. Mostly just including this here as a reminder that she's there in case it comes up in the finale.

Max and Cam, who got her job back!

"Thanks for the assist. I'm guessing that guard wouldn't let me through with bolt cutters unless I had an officer of the law present."

"Oh well, don't be jealous, Evans. Valenti has me on desk duty. So this little adventure is my lunch break."

"Valenti did the right thing, giving you your job back."

"Yeah well, you know, apparently some local bartender gave her reason to doubt the events the night of the gala were my fault. So I owe you."

"I've lost track of who owes who what at this point."

They break into the storage unit. It's empty except for an empty shelving unit, a locked chest, and a puddle of purple alien goo.

"What is that?"

"It looks like embryonic fluid. There must have been a pod in here."

Note: no, Max! Pod Goo evaporates upon contact with Earth's atmosphere/air. So it's not pod goo.

There isn't a super clear shot of inside the chest, but Max pulls out a love letter from Helena to Jim Valenti. I can transcribe it if you want me to. It's pretty easy to read and frankly, there's nothing important there. My heart is forever yours...it feels good to actually love and be loved in return...blah blah cheesy platitudes.

But seriously. Just send me an ask if you need me to transcribe it.  But I'm gonna skip for now.

Isobel is chugging acetone straight from the bottle in the middle of the Pony.

Isobel's second trip into Mimi's mindscape:

"Mimi. I know you think you're doing the right thing, but Helena is holding people hostage. We have to understand her motive."

"You all think I'm losing my mind. But I just...slip out of my time and into a different one every once in a while. Sometimes Maria's. Or Mama's. Other women in our future or past. I saw you when you were a baby. The sky was red."

"What can you tell me about your time with Helena? She had you for a month."

"We were in a motel. We watched movies. We laughed and gossiped. She wanted to trigger my visions...gather information."

"What information? What did you tell her? What did you see?"

"What's important is Helena will take care of our girls. I'm not afraid. That's enough."

Mimi kicks her out again.

"I tried.  She's fading."

"She's tired. It's harder when she's tired. Come on, Mom. I'm gonna take you back to Sunset Mesa."

"Maria, you just have to look for the signs in the water. You have to believe. Go on, you'd better hurry."

"Hurry where?"

"CrashCon closing night! You don't want to miss the fireworks. You always loved the fireworks."

Max and Cam going through the chest of letters back at Max's house:

"Okay, all these notes are from Helena to Jim Valenti. This is from the week Rosa died. I mean even 20 years after their affair she's still writing and he's still saving her letters."

"Pining after an Ortecho for years and years. It's so weird. Who does that. This is a receipt. It's a money transfer he made around the same time. He paid Daniel Fuller a thousand bucks."

"Fuller was the county coroner. Okay we still don't know how Noah got Rosa's body into the pod, right? But Jim had Project Shepherd connections to the morgue. So maybe if Noah knew about Jim and knew that he'd be grieving Rosa, he could have told him where to find the pod, right, and maybe he didn't even take the pod back until after Jim died."

"I mean, this is all a bunch of conjecture."

"Jim pulled me aside at high school graduation, he said I was the kind of guy the sheriff's department could use. Look, I mean maybe… I mean, he never let on, but maybe he knew I was an alien, right? Maybe he knew more than that."

"Okay, Evans? Breathe. You're looking a little clammy. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"No. See, something's going on, and you're gonna tell me or I'm out, I swear to God."

"Okay you can't tell anyone."

"You know I won't."

"Okay, I've been taking this antidote that Liz made. No...she doesn't know. But its rebuilding some of my memories from before the 1947 crash, right? I was just a little kid, but I had a destiny. I had responsibilities."

"Right, you're the savior."

"Yes! Well, maybe. But I was starting to remember these symbols from our old language, right? I remember what they mean, but it's like the meaning is just out of reach. And I'm out of the antidote. And you know, Liz is getting suspicious. So…"

"No."

"I didn't say anything."

"Really? Can you tell that to your face? I am not using my friendship with your girlfriend to steal alien steroids for you. Okay? Our partnership has limits."

Michael and Helena:

"It's done. So now what? You inject my spine with your mind-eraser?"

"We only used the butyricol on Jenna Cameron because there was still work to be done. And Flint was afraid she'd ruin it for us. You told Flint Charlie was creating a toxin that would kill aliens. But if you wanted aliens dead, you'd be testing it on me right now. 'Cause that's what I would do if I was a criminal mastermind."

"I needed Flint for the schematics and the muscle. Our agendas didn't need to align perfectly."

"You don't have to do this. If you kill anyone tonight, Liz and Rosa will never look at you the same."

"That ship has sailed. Besides, I'm not killing anyone. If disaster never strikes, justice won't be served. Do you want to see Alex or not?"

Liz tries to get Arturo to go back to the Crashdown.  She tells him that the kitchen is backed up because it's so busy.  The interesting part of this exchange from a character perspective though:

"Papi, please. I have a bad vibe, all right? A gut feeling I can't shake."

Diego walks up.

"Who are you? Elizabeth Ortecho doesn't do feelings. She believes in facts and evidence."

"No, I do feelings now.  I've evolved."

Alex is chained up in the house.  There's a takeout box and coffee cup next to him. He's humming a song under his breath. Michael walks in and they talk.

"Guerin, you were right. They used me to get to you. My dad hit me over the head and then he swiped the piece of the console. And then Flint showed up with a gun to my head."

"Did anyone hurt you?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Helena's been weirdly motherly. She's bringing me clothes and meals."

"Your leg."

"Yeah they took the prosthetic. I tried to bludgeon my brother with it. Come on, use your powers. Get me out of this."

"Helena dosed me with something. I'm basically human until it wears off."

"Okay then find something that'll break the cuff or my wrist. I don't care."

"Alex, tonight at CrashCon, your dad plans to release a toxin that kills anyone with alien DNA...Helena made Charlie and I build an identical device, but one that targets a different DNA. She somehow got her hands on your dad's cells. She knows your dad killed Kyle's dad. She wants revenge.  But she wants him to take himself out. When he pulls the trigger on us tonight your dad's gonna die because of a device I built."

"No, that is not on you, okay? Now let me out of here."

"I can't. The atomizer will kill anyone in your dad's direct line. You are safer here."

"Are you serious?"

"And I gotta go. I'm gonna come back for you."

While Michael explains to Alex, we get a flashback to Helena in her totally fake blonde wig at the hospital in 2x02.

Helena disguises herself as Jesse's maid using her totally fake blonde wig and switches out the bombs while Jesse is in the shower.

The @ladiesofrnm have their first scene all together! (With Max...and eventually Michael…) reading through Helena's letters together. Michael makes quite an entrance. Afterwards:

"You're such an idiot! You don't comply with a kidnapper's ransom demands. Without telling me."

"Alex was in trouble. He had to go."

"Mikey, where are Alex and Charley?"

"They're safe. Your mom doesn't want to hurt them."

"Look I don't get it. Does she want to kill aliens?"

"No. She's avenging her murdered lover."

Back to the house where Helena talks to Charlie:

"This atomizer contains the poison that kills anyone with alien DNA. I need you to destroy it."

"Does Flint know that you have it?"

"Flint. Jesse really broke that boy. Some people were never meant to be parents. You can go when you're done.  The door's unlocked. Flint's rifle shoots blanks."

"What's to stop me from leaving now?"

"The knowledge that that deadly device only exists because of you. You decide. I'm off to CrashCon. I hear there will be quite a show."

Note, when Helena says Flint's name she says a word in Spanish that I can't make out and isn't in the closed captions.

Max and Liz's conversation about racism and privilege:

"I want to help. Your mom's not the villain here. All right? She's going about this all wrong, yes. But Manes is already a murderer. I mean, if he'd succeeded today…"

"I know...I could have lost almost everyone I care about in a moment. I remember every day what it was like to lose you and Rosa. I don't think I could survive that again. She could've built a decoy bomb that wouldn't have hurt anyone."

"He'd just get angry and do it again."

"Yeah, but he's not the only one that this would hurt. I mean, the headlines if she gets caught? Illegal Mexican Immigrant Slaughters Decorated American Vet via Bioweapon. People will line up to lay bricks at the border wall. But hey, maybe the president will talk about my family at his rallies. That's gonna be fun."

"That's not gonna happen. This will get covered up like every other strange death in this town."

"In case you haven't noticed those cover-ups don't tend to protect the Mexicans. Even when…"

"Even when Rosa died. You can say it, Liz. It's okay. It's fair. Rosa got blamed. White people didn't. Okay? I get it."

"I know you're on my side, but you don't get this. And that's not your fault, that's just the reality of our experiences. If I mess up. If I so much as roll through a stop sign, it reflects badly on any Mexican who came before me. And it hurts any Mexican who comes after me. I used to think that nothing would ever change that, but lately I think...maybe if something extraordinary happened it could."

"Extraordinary? Like what you're doing in your lab?"

"I've discovered something that could be the key to curing people who have no hope otherwise. I can't walk away."

"So you're gonna turn my family's stem cells into the hottest commodity?"

"No, I won't. I...we'll find a way to synthesize it or replicate it."

"Is this about the people you're trying to save or about becoming the poster girl for immigrants everywhere? You want the president to talk about your family because of you. Because you saved the world."

"If those in power see what happens when people are given opportunity…"

"You want the glory."

"I want recognition. I want to be the example I never had. And people who want glory, they're just in it for selfish reasons. People like Jesse Manes want the glory. He wants to be a big American hero. He wants the parades, he wants the medals. If he sets off his alien atomizer at CrashCon, a handful of twenty-something's will die of some mysterious ailment and it's barely gonna make the news. That's not what he wants. We're missing part of his plan."

"First, something violent. Large-scale that'll draw media attention. And then, once all eyes are in Roswell…"

"He'll blame the violence on the aliens. He only gets his parade if he makes people afraid and then he destroys the thing that they fear. If he makes people think that you're terrorists before he kills you."

Graham Green's reveal at CrashCon.  Graham is announced and takes the stage as Max, Liz, and Rosa arrive to find Michael, Isobel, and Maria nearby.

"Hey, you guys shouldn't be here."

"I was held hostage, Max. I deserve to ride the Sizzler until I barf cotton candy, and maybe watch a bad man die."

"You guys, we think that…"

Graham Green starts his presentation.

"Hello loyal fans and devoted supporters! You patience is about to be rewarded. Today I am thrilled, nay, honored to show you the result of years or painstaking work. The moment we've all been waiting for. Irrefutable extraterrestrial proof! A bona fide alien artifact!"

Graham pulls the curtain and reveals what appears to be something similar to Michael's console, only it is complete and intact.

Flint brings Alex food and they discuss Flint's motives:

"If you're doing this to impress dad, it is never gonna work."

"I'm not trying to impress dad. His shutdown of Project Shepherd was an inform decision, but he's trained me my entire life to take it on.

Flint goes to leave but Alex stops him.

"Do you remember when mom used to drive us to the res, and you would sit at the loom with Granddad? Weaving stories. When was the last time you made something, Flint? Anything that wasn't built to destroy?" 

"Around the time that mom decided that to leave dad, she had to leave us."

"She didn't know what he would do to us."

"He didn't do anything to us. Me and Clay are fine. He'll, even Gregory is coming to see dad today."

"...You are wrong. We are all dad's victims. Sure, he beat me up, but what he put the rest of you through was abuse too. He made you watch while he kicked my ass… He scared you into thinking that there was only one type of man that you could become."

Alex manages to knock Flint out, steal the key to his handcuffs, and free himself.

"You're so pathetic. You don't know me at all. This has nothing to do with dad and everything to do with our history. Aliens are a foreign threat. They're invaders."

Back to CrashCon, where the gang discuss the alien object:

"Alex's piece must have been the last one that Manes needed to finish building it. Where's he been keeping the rest of this?"

Sanders appears out of nowhere.

"Kid, I seen that thing before. Your mother built that back in the old barn. I don't know what it is, but it is definitely explosive. I always wondered what'd happened to the pieces."

"Maybe Harlan or Tripp Manes gathered them up. Rebuilt it."

"Yeah but if Manes is gonna use that to blow up CrashCon, it's gonna make Graham Green look like the bad guy. No one's gonna think an alien planted it."

"Unless they follow the money. I got an alert from my bank this morning. A $10,000 deposit had cleared."

"You think Manes set it up so that the investigation would lead to you?"

"If I become the world's first alien terrorist and he takes me out, the world cheers."

"Guys, you need to do whatever you can to get as many people out of here as possible, okay? Get help."

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Michael and I have studied this material before. It's part tech, but it's also part organic. And if it's part organic, that means it can be killed. I gotta get back to my lab."

Diego sees Max toss Liz his keys.

Max and Michael sneak backstage and convince Graham Green to let them have a moment with the alien ship thingie. Max takes photos of it with his phone.

"Do you think we can destroy it?"

"No. The pieces want to be together and now that it's complete if we break the bonds with brute force we risk a violent reaction."

Max hears voices whispering and reaches out to touch the alien tech. The alien symbol forms under his hand and he pressed it.  There's a surge from the tech and it almost appears like Max is absorbing something from it. The voices get a little louder. When he breaks the connection it almost seems like it takes effort and he seems stunned.

"What the hell just happened to you?"

"Nothing. I think this is a remote. I think this controls a ship."

"It's a what?"

Gif by @maxortecho

Note, the way Max laughs when he says nothing is oddly similar to how he responded to Cam when she called him out on his weird behavior from the antidote. Like he's hiding something or brushing off the worry or something. 

Sanders interrupts before Max can respond. Points out that the top of the stage is varnished which is highly flammable. 

"Wait, if this is fresh varnish, this whole platform is set up like a tinderbox."

"There's gonna be fireworks tonight."

"One spark'll light a fire. I mean, this whole thing, the whole platform will go up."

"If this giant remote goes kaboom aliens will be framed as terrorists. You have to get out of here."

"What? No. I'm not going anywhere."

"Max you are all sorts of worked up right now. What happens when you're worked up?"

"Sparks fly. Right, okay. Yeah. I'll go."

Before Max leaves he spots something on one of the display boards that makes him pause. He grabs it before leaving.

Charlie is working on her chemicals in the makeshift lab when Flint sneaks up on her and puts a gun to her head, demanding that she gives him the atomizer.

Maria and Rosa hurry through CrashCon discussing each other's alien biology and Mimi's vision. They spot Gregory Manes and decide to try to get him to leave since the Manes bomb would kill him. He has 12 kids with them so they suggest that he take them to the Crashdown for free milkshakes. He recognizes Rosa, but they tell him she's Rosa's cousin. 

Liz works in the lab while blasting Alanis Morissettte - great call back to last year when she told Michael that Alanis helped her channel Rosa's creativity. She says to herself:

"Destroy the organic cell membrane. Disable the nanotech." 

She mixes some chemicals which react and explode her flask and start a fire. Really don't know if that's supposed to represent success or not. 

Flint and Helena talk at CrashCon. She is surprised to see him.  He tells her that he cleaned up the mess at the house. 

We flash back to the house which is on fire.  Charlie is chained up and trapped.

Liz hurries from the lab and doesn't realize that Diego followed her there.  He sneaks his way into the building while Liz rushes for the car.

Speaking of cars...they're in the middle of nowhere. Where's Diego's car? I had the same thought last week when Max and Kyle were searching Flint's house and they almost got caught. Whoever pulled up in the hunting van should have seen their car!

Maria and Rosa are helping get the kids loaded onto a bus when Rosa points out Pisces to Maria. Call back to 1x03 when Maria tells Liz that she and Rosa used to compete to see which one of them could spot the constellation first. It gives Maria an epiphany. Pisces is "the water sign" which was one of Mimi's clues from her vision.  Maria goes to follow the sign. She runs into Max who tries to get her to safety. They spot Flint Manes carrying the atomizer. Max tells Maria to get out of there and hurries after Flint. He tries to sneak up on Flint, but Flint is able to disarm him and beat him up. Flint sets the atomizer to go off in two minutes and then throws it like a Hail Mary into the crowd. Max chases after Flint while Maria goes after the atomizer. She pushes through the crowd and spots another clue from Mimi's vision - a poster of aliens asking "Do you believe?" The atomizer is sitting below it. Maria grabs the atomizer and takes off running with it. Cam spots Maria and follows. 

Flint beats Max up again and then pulls a gun and threatens to shoot Max. Max disarms him and is holding the gun to Flint now. He laughs and asks Max if he's really going to shoot a soldier. Tells him that he already pulled the trigger to kill Max by setting off the atomizer. Max tosses the gun aside, and uses his powers instead to kill Flint,

Michael and Isobel are trying to keep the stage from catching fire, but then the fireworks start going off into the wind (which blows the embers towards the fair). The hay bales easily catch on fire. Isobel used her powers to hold back the flames.  She can feel that something is wrong with Max and send Michael to find him. 

Instead Michael finds Jesse and Alex. Their exchange: 

"You know, I actually started to believe that you had changed."

"You never could tell friend from foe. I actually counted on it."

"Hey I know exactly who you are. You were gonna let all of these people die and you were gonna let the aliens take the blame."

"It's high time they got blamed for something, I think. I'm gonna drag them from the shadows."

"Yeah and then what? You're gonna use the atomizer to kill them all? Then you become some hero by destroying the enemy that you created?"

"American children are gonna read about the events of tonight in their history books... And don't worry about collateral damage, son. That's just an unfortunate aspect of war. You know that better than anyone, Alex."

"You're gonna become your own collateral damage if that thing goes off. Helena Ortecho switched the devices. That's not gonna kill aliens.  That is set to destroy your DNA. If it goes off, you are going to die in a puddle of your own blood."

"What are you doing? Are you bluffing to protect the aliens?"

"What I'm doing is I'm trying to protect our family. Dad, if that goes off it kills all of your direct descendants. Flint and Greg are somewhere in here. And I don't care how much I disgust you, I am still your son!"

Greg runs up looking for help responding to the fire. He spots the atomizer and immediately recognizes it as a weapon. Alex tries to get him to leave. Michael runs up and Jesse pulls his gun on him. Greg steps between Michael and the gun to protect Michael for Alex.

Maria throws the atomizer off into the desert and immediately begins bleeding. Thankfully Cam is there to try to help.

Max kills Flint which in turn gives him another heart attack. Liz arrives as he's collapsing and starts CPR. Rosa runs up and tries to get Liz to let her step in to help Max so that Liz can stop the alien device from exploding… And cliffhanger.

MUSIC:

1.  Valley Queen "Chasing The Muse"

2.  The HawtThorns "Give Me A Sign"

3.  Everclear "Everything To Everyone"

4.  Alanis Morissette "All I Really Want"

5.  Gary Numan "I Am Dust"

[gra-sonas]

RosweII, New Mexico star LiIy CowIes on lsobeI's self-empowerment and fangirling over Jason Behr

The actress takes us inside her character's heartbreaking grief and trauma on the CW extraterrestrial drama.

For a town inhabited by aliens, a whole bunch of very human, very real — and heartbreaking! — drama sure does go down in Roswell, New Mexico.

On Monday's episode of the CW series, we journeyed back in time to the scene of the 1947 saucer crash that brought Max (Nathan Dean Parsons), Isobel (Lily Cowles), and Michael (Michael Vlamis) to the New Mexico small town, and we got our first glimpse of Jason Behr (who played Max on the original Roswell series) as a zealous army officer intent on capturing the recently landed extraterrestrials. While we learned more about Michael's mother's arrival on Earth and the turbulent hours that followed, back in the present Isobel was having a rough time of it herself, having chosen to attempt to end her pregnancy alone and confront her grief over the loss of her brother and basically the whole life she'd known with Noah for so many years.

We caught up with Cowles about the emotional scenes with Parsons, the bold decision to bring an abortion story line to the forefront of the episode, and bumping into her teenage crush at craft services.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Isobel is obviously carrying a lot of grief and pain this season from the loss and violations she suffered last season. How did you approach the character coming into this second season?

LILY COWLES: Halfway through the hiatus, Carina [Adly MacKenzie, series creator] and I started talking about what Isobel had been through, where she was coming from, and what we could expect to see moving forward. I was really hoping when it started, we'd be six months down the line, but no — of course that doesn't make for good television, nor does it do justice to character. So we very quickly realized we were going to be heading right back into the moment straight after. I was like, "Ooh, boy." I got a lot to take on: losing her brother, her other half, the twin that she'd had since birth, and of course having to digest the fact that her entire life had been a sham. Her marriage was a lie, to a man who had been physically and emotionally using and abusing her without her knowing about it. She'd been married to this sort of psychopath, serial killer who used her body to commit murders. How do you even begin to digest it? We talked about how Isobel was a character who had built a tremendous facade, and she was living this perfect life that looked really good on paper. It was a very carefully constructed house of cards, but it was a prison because it was all based in lies. Carina and I were looking at it and thought, "Well, the one thing that can be said is that that house of cards now has been destroyed. It's been razed to the ground." So she actually, strangely, has been given an opportunity to start again. In many ways, we were both excited to see: Who is Isobel outside of the confines of how she's defined herself? It's so painful and scary, and yet it gives her a fresh start to say, "Who am I, deep down inside?" I think that's something that everyone can relate to on some level, finding your authentic self.

It seem like a big part of Isobel's journey this season is going to be finding her own autonomy, making her own decisions, and not relying on anyone else to look after her. Can you talk about her decision to abort the baby in this episode and how that plays into her overall story arc?

Isobel is, of course, a special case because she's an alien. Her story line is largely metaphorical for a lot of people, but it's nonetheless a story that so many women can relate to: We have these bodies that other people want to control, and we have a lot of restrictions placed on our own reproductive health. It's crazy that it's still such a huge issue that women have to battle so much to be able to have autonomy over their own systems. Isobel finds herself in a position where she learns that she's pregnant and there are a lot of things at play here. One of the biggest ones is, of course, that the man who fathered this child was not who she thought he was. So there's a question of consent. It's tricky because all of these things are so shades of gray. She learns after the fact that this man had been lying about who he was. He had been manipulating her, using her body, and infiltrating her mind. It's hard to draw comparisons to a human on human, but she definitely suffered emotional, psychological, physical abuse and manipulation. Now she's dealing with a pregnancy that's come out of an abusive and traumatic relationship, and she's looking at this pregnancy as representing the legacy of that abuse and trauma. Isobel's looking at a woman's right to have it on her own terms, and these are not the terms that she agreed to, and she's very much alone.

That's a very relatable story line if you remove the alien element and just focus on how many women are alone and dealing with an unwanted pregnancy and don't have access to help.

Yes. That's a really terrifying thing. I think that's a place that many women find themselves. While Isobel's in extreme extenuating circumstances, I think this is something that many women face, and whether it's because they're under age and their families won't understand, or because they're illegal citizens and they feel that going to a hospital will compromise them and they'll be deported, or maybe they live in a state where medical assistance just isn't offered for that. This is something many women have had to really face. I think in that sense, Carina wanted to do justice to that story so women who have gone through it can see that they're not alone. Often on TV, you get to this moment and then it's like, "Oh, there was a miscarriage," or they find some way to do it without compromising the character's likability. It's so sad to me that the character's likability would be in question for having to make this kind of decision, but it's the reality that we live in. There's such a stigma. Carina wanted to say, "This character is alone, and she's making a choice to save herself." It was very bold, and I'm really honored to be a part of it.

It's an emotionally draining episode for Isobel, for sure. The scene with Max on the couch where she talks about how much she misses him but seems to come to the realization that she is the only person she can truly rely is pretty heartbreaking. How was that to shoot?

It was very challenging. Carina called me and we started talking about it and she said, "Okay, I have an idea, but I don't want you to freak out." She proposed this whole thing. My initial reaction was like, "Oh God, please don't make me," because you go through it as an actor. You put your human body through it, and you don't want to hold back. Especially with this, I felt an enormous responsibility to do justice to this story because I know it's so important to so many people. But it was rough. Every morning going to work was like walking into a war zone. You know what's coming and you're like, "Please don't make me go!" But it's such a beautiful monologue. It's heartbreaking. I lost a parent a few years ago and when I read that monologue I was just like, "Oh God." It just hits. It just rings so true. To be dealing with grief is its own miracle and monster, and that was something that was really important for me to show up for as an artist. I know that part of the human condition, that inability to move forward beyond the loss of someone.

Wow, yeah, pretty heavy stuff. I guess one bright spark in all of this was that Liz [Jeanine Mason] and Isobel are back on better terms. Will we see them team up going forward?

Yeah, something that's really beautiful about what happens to Isobel is that in the dearth of all other supportive relationships, she's going to have to learn how to be friends with the girls. Men, God bless them, can't relate as well to what she is going through as other women can. I think Maria sees it. She's got her psychic abilities and she's like, "What's going on with you?" Liz, of course, when she finds out, is like, "Why didn't you tell me?! I would have been there for you." I'm really excited that this season Isobel is going to learn how to play nice with the girls. Female relationships can be complicated, and they can be so powerful.

I'm assuming you won't have any scenes with Jason Behr since he exists in flashbacks, but how was just having the O.G. Max on set?

Such a dream. First of all, I was a huge Roswell original fanatic. I was obsessed with it. The first time I saw him was at craft services. It was lunchtime and I'm like stuffing my pockets full of all my snacks and I like look up, and it was like an angel had fallen to the earth and there he was. I don't get star-struck, but I was so awkward. I was like, "It's you!" You could tell the poor man has had to deal with this like a lot. He's like, "Yes, it's me. I know that I'm the hero of your dreams." It was embarrassing, but having him around was amazing. He's been such a huge champion of the show. We have a tradition of going out for karaoke on Saturday nights, and he came out one time. I had just recently bought this totally absurd floor-length fur vest, and he put it on and looked like Jon Snow, but sleeker. I was just like, "Is this real life?" I just wanted to tell my 12-year-old self, "Girl, wait until I tell you what is going to happen!"

Amazing. I love that so much. We should talk about the ending too with Michael's mom and the other woman who may be Isobel and Max's mom. Can you tease anything to come there? Is Isobel going to throw herself into investigating her past?

Yeah, I think you can definitely get ready for some exciting investigation into the past. Isobel is trying to figure out who she is in a sense of where's she from too and what her roots are. That's definitely a question that she's got intensely on her mind. Part of the trajectory of the season is exploring the past and trying to get some information on what happened and what went down in 1947. So we'll definitely get to know some of those characters and get to fill in a little bit of the family gaps. It's beautifully written and beautifully acted, and I'm really excited for fans to see it. I think they're going to love it.

~ EW

[meghan-huntergirl-winchester]

Safe and Sound (Sister!Reader X Winchester Brothers)

So, this is actually an older piece that I wrote way back in 2014. It was originally only 1600 words and the story was actually very different. I decided to re-write it and make it as accurate as I could with details from the timeline of the show. I was still very new to Supernatural back in 2014 (I had only made it through season 2 at that point. I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2501 (Damn I got carried away!)

Rolling over in my bed with a groan, I peeked a glance at my alarm clock sitting on my side table. 6:45am. I hated waking up early on a Saturday! With a small sigh, the covers were flung off and I stood up to stretch. The boys had been gone for about 5 days now. They had adamantly refused to let me tag along this time and as upset as I was, I understood why. They just wanted to keep me safe and if I was being honest, I was not 100% after our last hunt.

Slipping my feet into my bedroom slippers, I made my way out of my room and down the hall towards the boy’s rooms. I stopped at the first door on the right and pressed my ear against it for a moment. When I heard nothing from inside, I gently turned the knob and pushed the door open. Nothing. Pulling the door shut I made my way to Sam’s bedroom only to find nothing as well. The boys are still not home from their hunt. Now I was upset. It had been 5 days now and not once had Sam or Dean contacted me about the case. Was it going so well that they didn’t need any research done? I doubt that. Dean would do anything in the world to get out of the research.

Finally, I decided that it was way too early in the morning to be dealing with this and I made my way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Then I would contact the boys myself.

As I filled up the machine with water and coffee grounds, my mind drifted back to when I first met Sam and Dean. We had met when I was only 10.

You see, hunting ran in my family as well. My mother and father were hunters. When my mom found out that she was pregnant with my sister, she quit hunting and eventually so did my father. My parents eventually were able to settle down into a normal life, and two years after my sister was born, my mom found out she was pregnant with me. Fast forward several years to the night of my 10th birthday, a monster broke into my house and killed my parents and my older sister. John Winchester and his friend Bobby had been tracking the monster and they saved me before the monster could hurt me. With the monster dead, John and Bobby tried to figure out what to do with me but since I had no other family members, there was no where for me to go. Bobby took me in and raised me, along with Sam and Dean, who spent more time at Bobby’s than with their dad.

At first it took Dean a while to warm up to me. We became a lot closer when he realized that he had someone his own age to help take care of Sam. Sam and I instantly bonded over our love of books and learning. It helped that I was not nearly as tough on him as Dean sometimes was. As we got older, the three of us grew even closer when John and Bobby would take us all on hunts together. I had finally started to heal after losing my own family, because I had a new family, one who would protect each other from everything.

One day, John came back to Bobby’s place only this time, Sam wasn’t with him. John had his version of what happened, and Dean had his. I had never seen Dean so upset and heartbroken in my life. Sam had gotten into Stanford and had tried to tell his dad about it. John had instantly gotten defensive and accused Sam of not wanting to find the demon that killed Mary. They had argued and John finally told Sam to leave and never come back. My heart broke for Dean. We lost something that day, a little piece of me died as another member of my family left me.

Taking a sip of my coffee, I frowned as the memory of Sam leaving came to mind. I don’t know why I had started to reminisce about the past, but sometimes it was nice to take a little trip down memory lane, even if some of the memories weren’t always happy ones.

I had some cleaning to do around the bunker before the boys came home. If they didn’t return tonight, I was going to have to go hunt them down myself. Finishing off my coffee, I set the cup in the sink to wash later and headed back towards my bedroom so that I could change out of my pajamas. I opened up my closet and happened to glance up at the top shelf. Sitting there was my old guitar. It was the only thing I had taken from my house after that horrible night. The guitar had been my fathers. He gave it to me that night as my birthday gift along with the promise of teaching me to play.

I popped open the latches and pulled the guitar out of its case and just looked at it. It had been so long since I had last played it. Placing the strap over my head, I positioned the guitar in my lap and placed my fingers on the fret board. With just a strum or two, memories flooded back to me of teaching myself how to play up in my room at Bobby’s house. With a quick tune and some more strumming, the guitar was finally ready to play again. My fingers fell into what fell like a natural place and I strummed the E minor scale. As I strummed, a song that my mother used to sing to me as a kid came to mind.

I remember tears streaming down your face

When I said, “I’ll never let you go”

When all those shadows almost killed your light

I remember you said, “Don’t leave me here alone”

But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight

As I sang, flashback to a rough hunt that Dean and I had been on together came to mind. It was one of our first cases without John or Bobby. We were probably about 18 years old and John was out chasing a clue towards finding the yellow eyed demon that killed Mary while Dean and I handed what was supposed to be just one or two vampires.

*flashback*

“DEAN!” I screamed as I took off in a run. John had sent us to Louisiana for a small vampire case. It was supposed to be 2 maybe 3 vamps but instead ,we found an entire nest of about 9. We had killed all but 3 vamps and as I swung my machete again, I saw Dean fighting off the leader. As I ran towards them, the third vampire came out of the shadows and sank his fangs into Dean’s neck before tearing away from him. I quickly swung my machete at the leader and beheaded him before turning and taking down the final vamp.

“You’re gonna be okay. Just hang on!” Tears ran down my cheeks as I started to panic. Thinking quickly, I pulled off my flannel and pressed it against his neck to put pressure on the wound. Blood was quickly soaking through the shirt and I was terrified. Dean was scared too; I could see it in his eyes and hear it in the way his words trembled.

“Please don’t leave me alone here.” He whispered to me. The bleeding was slowing but Dean was beginning to lose consciousness. The blood loss was taking its toll on him.

Tears kept falling as I looked at him like he was crazy.

“I’m not going to leave you here!”

“Why are you crying?” His eye lids were starting to droop, and I panicked. Shaking him I tried to keep him awake.

“Hey! Dean! You can’t fall asleep; We have to get you out of here. I’m never gonna let you go and I’m not gonna leave you here. Now get up!”

Dean grunted in pain as I helped him up off the ground. His movements were slow and sluggish, but it was only a few feet to the car. ‘Just get him in the car and then get him to the hospital’ I kept repeating it over and over until we finally arrived at the local medical center.

*end flashback*

Dean had gone into shock by the time we made it to the hospital. I could only watch as doctors rushed him away from me and into surgery. After he had been given a unit of blood, some IV fluids, and had been stitched up, I sat beside his bed that night and waited for him to wake up. I hummed this song to him in hopes that he could hear me and would wake up. When he finally did wake up, I cried in joy because I thought I had almost lost him. I couldn’t take the loss of another person.

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You’ll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I’ll be safe and sound

I remember when Dean and Sam lost their father. Dean had been in the hospital after another hunt had gone wrong. The three of them had been in a car accident after the hunt. I’ll never forget that phone call or the fear that filled my body when I heard what had happened. Bobby tossed his keys to me and I rushed to the hospital as fast as I could but by the time I got there, John was dead. After the boys had been discharged, they told me what had happened. Dean had been trapped outside of his body and a reaper had been after him. John sold his soul and a gun called the Colt to the yellow eyed demon that he had been hunting for so long. His soul for Dean’s life.

There was a war going on outside and only we knew what it was. As hunters, we knew about the things that go bump in the night. There was a war brewing and we were the only soldiers that could fight it.

Don’t you dare look out your window, darling,

Everything’s on fire

The war outside our door keeps raging on

Hold on to this lullaby

Even when music’s gone

Gone

After their father died, Dean and Sam told me all about the demon that their father had been hunting. They told me about their mom and how the demon had killed her and had almost killed Sam. They told me about how their Dad had gotten obsessed with finding it and everything that he had done. Although John was strict with the boys and I, he was still like a father to me. With the loss of John weighing over me, that night I locked myself in my room and just cried. I cried for the loss of John, for the loss of my family, cried with relief that Dean was safe, I just cried.

I couldn’t lose another family member. I didn’t know how much more I could take. If only I had known what the future had held for me, maybe I would have gotten out of hunting because all that was awaiting me in the future was loss and grief.

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You’ll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I’ll be safe and sound

I let the last chord echo thorough out the room as I trailed off on the last few words. I was started by the sound of clapping behind me and I spun around on my bed to see Sam and Dean standing in the doorway with small smiled on their faces. I instantly threw my guitar off onto the bed and ran over to give them hugs.

“Careful!” Dean warned and I jumped back before I could touch him.

“It’s okay, just bruised a bit. Just don’t hug too tight.” He chuckled out.

Gently I wrapped my arms around him before moving over to Sam. With a frown ,I pulled back gently before I shot out and smacked both of them on the back of the heads.

“Hey! What the hell!?”

Taking a step back, I put my hands on my hips and glared at both of them.

“5 days?? You couldn’t call and tell me you were alright?”

Sam looked down sheepishly and Dean suddenly found the wall interesting.

“Well?” I said, tapping my foot on the ground

“We ran into a bit of trouble on our way back.” Sam mumbled out, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

Sighing I let my hands fall from my hips before I looked at their faces. Looking closely, I could see that both boys had cuts and bruises on their faces.

“Come on and sit down so I can clean you up. Then you can tell me what happened.”

As the boys moved into my room and sat down on my bed, I went into the bathroom only to come out with the first aid kit from under my sink.

“Start at the beginning Sam.” I poured a small amount of peroxide onto a cotton ball and began to dab at one of the cuts on Dean’s forehead. As soon as the cotton ball made contact Dean flinched away like I had stabbed him.

“Really?” I asked in a deadpan voice.

He just crossed his arms with a huff and pouted. Staring for a moment, I broke at his pushed-out lip and started giggling. Instantly he broke into a grin at his successful attempt at making me laugh.

“Alright, alright.” I giggled out. “Tell me what happened.” I began to gently push on dean’s ribs to make sure that nothing was broken before moving over to check Sam.

“We got caught by the police.” Sam mumbled out.

“What was that?”

“I said, we got caught by the cops!”

I just rolled my eyes and kept quiet while they shared their story of what happened. I finished up treating Sam and closed up my first aid kit.

“Well, at least you are home and safe. Why don’t you take showers and change, and I’ll go make us something to eat okay?”

Dean and Sam both cracked a smile before gingerly standing from the bed.

“Thanks, Y /n.” Dean wrapped me in a hug, and I felt him press his lips to the crown of my hair before letting go and heading down the hall. Sam too wrapped me up in a hug before he went towards the showers.

I could finally feel myself relax as my body and brain finally got the message that the boys were okay.

I was so happy they were home, safe and sound.

[waywardaardvark79]

Come Back to Me: Part 6

Summary: Y/N, a WW2 army nurse spends her days caring for and patching up injured soldiers. The last thing she ever expected was that one of the soldiers that she saved would steal her heart. A story of two people and the insurmountable obstacles they overcome to always come back to each other.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Benny X Reader (platonic)

Warnings: language, implied smut, war flashbacks, injury

Word Count: 3,436

A/N: Updates should be at least once weekly. No set schedule. Flashbacks in italics

You and Benny had both agreed to pack light, deciding to take only the essentials along with you when you left. Everything else could be replaced, and that way no one would be able to say anything to Crowley if they saw either of you moving anything. Crowley had eyes everywhere, after all. It wasn't like either of you had much anyway, mostly just clothes and a few meaningful photos and knickknacks. 

Your suitcase was laying open on the end of your bed, filled with clothes, one outfit for tonight and one for tomorrow left hanging in the closet. The two of you were leaving tomorrow night, after your set, and it couldn't come fast enough. You had endured Crowley for long enough, and were simply waiting on your pay, and then you would be gone. You would be on to the next town to try and put your life back together. Both of you had to stop living in the past, stop wishing for something that would never be and just live for yourselves. 

You opened the top drawer of your dresser, grabbing the few things that were left inside and tossing them into your suitcase, well, all but one. You looked down at the bundle of letters in your hand, a bright red ribbon tied around them to keep them together, the edges torn and frayed from you reading them over and over. 

You looked down at the letter on top, tracing your finger over the familiar script there like you had done a thousand times before, as you made your way to the bed and sat down on the edge. You carefully untied the ribbon, treating the letters as if they were the most fragile things in the world as you took the one from the top of the stack, placing the rest of the bundle next to you. 

You looked down at it, turning it over in your hands a few times before opening it. The letter, his words, instantly transporting you to the past, back to him. 

You knew he was there without even having to turn around, somehow able to  just sense that he was near. Your mind was racing with things to say to him, none of them kind. 

"Were you even going to tell me?" you finally asked, not turning around to face him. 

"Y/N, please-" he tried to say before you cut him off. 

"Were you going to tell me?" you asked again, pausing a moment before turning around to face him. "Or were you just going to let me wake up tomorrow with no idea that you wouldn't be here?" 

Dean shook his head, "You know I would never do that." he said, taking a few steps towards you. "I...I just didn't want to worry you until I had to." 

"Worry me? You didn't want to worry me? Dean, I love you. I'm going to worry. I worry when you're here, and this is probably one of the safest places you could be. I just...why? Why are you doing this?" you asked, tears starting to form in your eyes. 

"It's my job, Y/N. It's the reason I'm here, and I'm not going to just stand back because you don't think it's safe. I have a job to do and I'm going to do it." Dean said. 

You looked away from him, your arms crossed over your chest. "Save it, Dean. I already know." you said, your tone cold. 

"You already know what?" he asked. 

"That you volunteered!! You volunteered your company to go." you yelled, not caring about the people around you overhearing. 

"We are the best ones for the job." Dean shot back, tears starting to run down your cheeks. 

"Why couldn't you have just been satisfied staying here. Why do you have to run off and be the hero? Haven't you done enough?" you asked, so angry you could hardly see straight. 

"Y/N, Doll, it's nothing dangerous. It's just a few of us going out to collect some things the Germans left behind in the last place they retreated from. I'm sure we won't even see any action, just a  bunch of paperwork, maybe some plans that our intelligence guys want to get their hands on. There's talk that we have them on the run, that maybe it won't be much longer until we see the end of all of this." Dean said. 

You shook your head, "Nothing here is safe, Dean. Nothing is simple or easy. I think we both know that." you said, referring to the transfer from so many months ago. 

"Y/N, I...I don't want to fight with you, but you need to understand that this is my job." he said, daring to step closer to you. 

"I know that. I understand, I do, but it doesn't mean I have to like it." you finally said. 

"Trust me, being away from you is the last thing I want, but I have to do this." he said. 

"W-when do you leave?" you asked, trying to keep your emotions in check. 

"First thing in the morning. They are flyin' us out at dawn." he replied. 

"Dawn." you said, realizing just how little time you had left with him. "Wait here." you instructed, quickly leaving his side, vowing to spend the little time he had left there together. 

You returned as quickly as you could, Dean still standing in the spot you left him in. "Come on." you said, reaching out for his hand, one of the thin hospital blankets tucked under your arm. 

"Where are-" Dean tried to ask, stopping when you started to lead him away. 

"I'm not spending the time we have left arguing with you in the middle of this hospital." you said, stopping to look over your shoulder at him before turning back around, choosing to keep him in the dark instead of telling him where you were taking him. 

You led him down a dark hallway, both of you moving quietly as you turned to the right, leading him down a flight of stairs before stopping outside of a door. 

"You plannin' on lockin' me up down here so I  can't leave?" he asked as you pulled your hand away from his to open the door. 

"I can't say that the thought hadn't crossed my mind." you said, looking over your shoulder at him before opening the door, "But don't worry, Soldier, I'll let you go in the morning, but for right now...you're all mine." you added, pulling him into the room. 

"I'll always be all yours." Dean said as you closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you in complete darkness. 

"Don't move. Give me just a minute." you said, feeling blindly along the shelves until your fingers wrapped around a candle, your other hand reaching into your pocket for the book of matches you had tucked away. 

You struck a match, and stuck it to the wick of the candle, illuminating the room in a soft glow, "I know a supply closet isn't exactly the most romantic place, but it's all I've got, and it's private." you said, lighting a few more candles as Dean stepped up behind you. 

"You're here. That's the only thing that matters to me." he said, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. 

You let the blanket under your arm fall to the floor, deciding to worry about it later as you turned around to face him, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, "Can we just pretend that you'll still be here tomorrow, and that this isn't goodbye?" you asked, trying not to cry, "At least for a little while." 

"This isn't goodbye. I can promise you that." he said, his finger under your chin, lifting it upward as he leaned in to kiss you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, losing yourself in him for a moment before pulling back, "Let's...let's slow down." you said, your chest heaving. "I, well, I haven't...it's been awhile, and I want this to last. I want to remember everything." you said, looking up at him. 

"We can go as slow as you want."  he said, taking a step back from you, your hands now on his shoulders. 

You let your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest, slowly making your way to the top button of his shirt, and popping it open. Your fingers kept up the work until the last button was undone, your hands working their way back up his body, memorizing the feel of him, before pushing the shirt off of his shoulders. 

"Is it my turn yet?" he asked, looking down at you, a half smile on his face. 

"You're still wearing a shirt." you said, your fingertips ghosting under the hem, grazing against his skin. 

He shivered under your touch, your fingers finally grasping the hem of his t-shirt before pulling it slowly over his head. 

"My turn." he said, as you dropped his shirt on the floor. 

You nodded your head, Dean surprising you with how quickly his fingers worked to unbutton your shirt. You let him push it from your shoulders, the shirt falling to the floor to join his as you turned around. 

You felt his hands take yours, his fingers starting to work their way up your arms, teasing you with barely there touches. He slipped his fingers underneath the straps of you bra, sliding them off of your shoulders, but not removing it completely. 

You sucked in a quick breath when you felt his lips on your shoulder, angling your head to the side to give him more room. A soft moan falling from your lips when he started to work his way from your shoulder, trailing soft, tender kisses up the side of your  neck, almost treating you like a porcelain doll he was afraid to break. 

You let out a shaky breath as he moved your head to the other side, repeating his action, trailing kisses from neck to your shoulder, one hand coming up to unclasp your bra. You let it fall to the floor, it joining the growing pile of clothes at your feet, as you slowly turned around to face him, his hands coming up to cup your face before placing a tender kiss to your lips. 

"Blanket." you said against his lips. 

Dean reluctantly pulled away after giving you more kiss. He grabbed the blanket and spread it out on the floor, dropping to his knees in front of you. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you towards him, his lips trailing along the scar on your stomach, your hands tangled in his hair. 

"Move over, Soldier." you said, Dean taking a moment to look up at you before resuming his kisses to your stomach. "I think I may have been wrong about the taking it slow idea."

You felt him smile against your skin, "You sure, Doll?" he asked, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable or rushed into anything. 

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life." you said, Dean chuckling as he moved over, making room for you. 

Both of you were breathing heavily, panting, as you lay next to each other, both of you on your backs, Dean's arm under your head. 

"Come here." he said, lifting his arm and rolling you towards him. 

You threw one leg over him as you splayed yourself across his chest, tapping your fingers along with the rhythm of his heart beat. "I wish you didn't have to go." you finally said, Dean's fingers running through your hair. 

"I know." Dean softly said, you raising your head to look at him. 

"I don't know what it is about you..." you said trailing off, your finger running along his bottom lip. "I have never felt like this about anyone before. It's like I just can't get enough of you, and I really hope you know just how much I love you, Dean Winchester." you said before placing your lips on his. 

"You know, I think I knew you were the one for me after the first time I saw you." he said, after you had pulled back. 

"I still can't explain what happened that day. You know, I was going to walk right on by you. I thought you were dead, but something...something made me stop and go to you." you said. 

"That was just the start of you savin' my ass." he teased, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

"I think we're pretty even now. You did return the favor, after all." you said, smiling down at him. 

"I don't remember too much from that first day. It all just comes in flashes, but I remember you telling me that you would be right there with me, and even though I couldn't see you I knew that you would stay. I just knew that as long as you were there with me that everything was going to be all right." he said. 

"I hate that I won't be with you. W-what if something happens, and I'm not there. What if you need me? God, Dean, I...I don't know what I would do if something...if something happened..." you trailed off, unable to say the words out loud, tears pooling in your eyes at the thought alone. 

"It's a good thing that I promised to come back then, isn't it?" Dean asked, trying to cheer you up. 

"Dean." you breathed out, shaking your head, tears starting to fall despite your effort to keep them at bay. 

"No, none of that." Dean said, wiping away your tears. "I promised you I would come back, and I always keep my promises. You know that." he said, you nodding your head. "Now, you just gotta promise me that you'll wait for me." he said. 

"I promise that I'll wait for you. I'll always wait for you, Dean Winchester." you said, before kissing him, your body aching to be as close to him as you could. 

Dawn came faster than either of you were ready for. You stood on the steps of the hospital, the sky still dark, Dean and Benny standing before you as you prepared to tell them both goodbye. 

"Don't you worry, Chere. We'll be back before you know it." Benny said, pulling you into his arms. "I'll watch over him. I'll keep him safe, and I'll make sure to bring him back." Benny whispered in your ear. 

"You promise?" you asked, pulling back from him so that you could look up at him, Benny nodding his head. "You take care of yourself. I need you back, too." you said, Benny leaning down to place a kiss to your forehead before stepping back. 

You looked over to Dean, your heart psychically aching at the thought of having to say goodbye to him. He stepped up to you and pulled you into his arms, neither one of you ever wanting to let go. 

"Just remember that you promised to come back." you said, forcing your tears away. 

"I'll come back." he said, pulling back to look down at you. "And you promised you would wait." 

"Always." you said, cupping his cheek before giving him one last kiss goodbye, had you known at the time that it was going to be the last kiss you would give him you would have held on a little longer. Hell, you probably never would have let him go. "I love you. You remember your promise, Soldier." you said, looking up at him. 

Dean kissed your cheek, "You know you can count on me, Doll." he said as he pulled a letter from his pocket and handed it to you. "I love you." he said, Benny telling him that it was time to go. 

So, there you were, his letter , the last letter he would ever give you clutched in your hand as you stood there on the hospital steps watching the man you loved go off to war. 

You were so tempted to call out to him, beg him to stay, but you kept quiet, biting down on your lip to keep from crying out. You wanted so badly to look upon his face one more time, memorize everything about him, but you knew you couldn't trust yourself to leave it to just a look. No, you would hang on and never let go, so you kept quiet, some part of you willing him to turn around, and suddenly he did. That unexplainable connection between the two of you coming through, letting him know how badly you needed to see him. Those green eyes you loved so much were boring into you, full of love as he flashed you the brightest smile, the little crinkles you adored forming around his eyes, and that was it. 

That was the last time you ever saw him, but you knew you would remember that moment, the look on his face, for the rest of your life. 

"Chere." Benny said, walking into your room. "I've been callin' your name. We gotta go." he said, looking down at you. "Hey, everything ok?" he asked, noticing the letters beside you, and the one you still had clutched in your hand. 

He knew exactly what letter that was. He had been there the day Dean had given it to you, and he had pulled it from your unconscious hands more times than he could count. 

"Yeah, I'm...everything is fine. I was just doing a little last minute packing." you said, tying the ribbon back around the letters before tucking them safely away in your suitcase. "I'll be right out." 

You got ready as quickly as you could, Benny waiting for you by the door when you walked out of your room. The walk to the club was silent, both of you lost in your thoughts. 

Maybe it was sight of the letter, or the thought of the two of you leaving that sent him back there. He couldn't be sure. The only thing he knew was that one minute he was looking at the bustling New York City sidewalk, and the next second he was inside of an airplane, Dean by his side. 

Dean hadn't said much since he left you, and Benny didn't bother him, knowing that he needed the time to himself to pull himself together and focus on what they had to do. The flight was smooth, probably the smoothest one either of them had ever been on, the sky just starting to lighten a little, but still mostly dark. 

Benny still curses himself to this day, thinking that if he hadn't have been thinking about how well things were going then maybe it never would have happened. He always thought, ever since Andrea, that he had an uncanny ability to bring ill luck and misfortune to the people he cared about. 

Perhaps, if he had been focusing on something else that German night fighter wouldn't have attacked them from below, hitting the port wing and fuselage, setting the wing on fire. Gallons of petrol was burning less than twenty feet from them and they all jumped into action, evacuating the plane before it could blow up or crash. 

Benny was running through the steps in his head, count to five, and then pull the rip cord, a sudden tugging feeling in his thighs and back letting him know the parachute caught. He could remember seeing the ground coming up quickly and looking to his side to seen Dean. He let out a sigh of relief when he spotted him about twenty five feet away, fear and panic suddenly overtaking him when he saw Dean's parachute snag a tree, his body being whipped around like a rag doll. 

Benny hit the ground hard, later finding out that he actually fractured his right ankle on impact, but he had no time to worry about himself. He picked himself up off the ground, still dragging his parachute behind him as he made his way to Dean, who was laying lifelessly on his back about twenty five feet away. 

He had a large cut on his head, his left arm and leg were bent at an unnatural angle, but he was still breathing. 

Benny knelt down by his side, "Dean. Dean!" he said, trying to gently shake him awake, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he already was. "Come on, brother, I need you to wake up. Dean!" he pleaded, the sound of approaching footsteps catching his attention before everything went black. 

Tags: @flamencodiva​ @divadinag​ @miraclesoflove​ @22sarah08​ @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​ @superflurry​ @familybusinesswritingbro @briagallen​​

[lesbiansastiel]

still untitled fic chapter 3

this chapter is mostly a flashback. cas x sam. the title is a reference to a song that i have been listening all day its ridiculous and i love it and im gonna make a teenager au for samcas based on it.....yeah... ANYWAYS here it is. chapter 1 & 2 are here x

Chapter 3. Kissavideoita

Sam remembers that specific night, the sunset, the parking lot, the weather. That night Sam was praying for Castiel to show up, to answer, to help them, to help Sam. Sam was aching for someone to see him and talk to him and talk him down from this intense feeling of hopelessness he had. Dean was not there, they were separated, and Sam now knew that he was meant to become Lucifer’s vessel, that he was the True Vessel, and he was so alone, and helpless. He felt like he was to blame for the whole Michael-Lucifer-war plan, on top of feeling guilty for letting Lucifer out from the cage in the first place. So much guilt. It was all on his shoulders, and he felt like he could never be forgiven. He didn’t think he deserved to be.

But then Castiel showed up. 

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said in a familiar tone while sitting on the passenger’s seat, like he had been sitting there for a longer time than two seconds, his hands resting against his legs. Sam gathered his thoughts and turned his shoulders to Cas’ direction, looking at his jacket’s collar, which was folded strangely. He had an urge to straighten it, but kept himself from doing that.

In this moment he couldn’t say anything. He was just wondering how it was possible that Cas had such a calming aura that all his worries felt so far away in this car, in this moment. For a while they didn’t speak, like there was a silent agreement that this was best for both of them, this comfortable silence. Sam turned to look out from the window on his side, at the sunset, and surprised himself by admiring it. The colors were wonderful. It was warm in the car and the sky looked like it was burning, and his tense shoulders started to relax a bit. Then Cas took a sharp inhale and opened his mouth, still looking at Sam.

“I felt your calls. You seemed desperate,” Cas said, calmly. He sounded worried, or confused. Sam realised he hasn’t said a thing to Cas this whole time.

Sam swallowed and looked at Cas again.

“I, uh,” he begun, “I was- am desperate.” Sam was struggling to explain why exactly he wanted Cas to come. What exactly did he want?

“I understand. I heard you are Lucifer’s true vessel. And Dean is not here,” Cas’ eyes drill into Sam’s in an what-would-be-uncomfortable -way if it were anyone else, “you feel lonely, Sam.”

Sam nodded and swallowed again, his mouth going dry simultaneously, and his throat hurting. “I will not cry,” he told to himself.

“What can I do?” Cas asked.

“Just, sit here, for a while. It helps,” Sam said, looking out of the window again, staring at the changing colours. His throat was pulsing and head hurting. He pushed the tears back, “I will not cry”. For a while it was quiet and he managed to stop the tears.

He heard Cas moving, and turned to look, hoping that he wasn’t leaving. The angel had taken a more comfortable position, leaning his head back against the seat and looking at Sam with weary eyes. Sam wanted to look at the sunset, he did not want miss those incredible colours, but looking at Cas was even better. Sam turned the seat-warmer off, because he noticed the need to remove his jacket, and then leaned his head against the seat, as well. 

“Does this help?” Cas echoed Sam’s words while examining Sam’s face. Sam nodded. It really did.

----------

Sam cannot show this memory to Cas, but it seems that wherever he drives, they end up in that same parking lot. 

“Why are you running from that memory?” Cas asks from the back, holding on to the back of the driver’s seat.

“We need to move on,” Sam blurts out and wonders how any of this is actually happening, why are they in heaven and why did that memory make it to his.

“No, Sam, you’re overwhelmed, you need to calm down,” Cas is rising their voice a bit, sounding sterner than before. Sam knows that he needs to calm down, they need to find Joshua, which requires leaving his heaven, but he can’t calm down because he really, really, doesn’t want Cas to know that that moment in time made it into his literal heaven.

“I will calm down somewhere else. Can you help me leave this place?”

“I,” Cas says sternly, “can’t do anything here, Sam.”

Sam feels frustrated, but he knows this is irrational, Cas is most likely not going to bring that moment up afterwards, or judge his heaven. But it feels too personal, letting them know this out of all things is a part of his heaven. 

“Sam, you need to let it play out, whatever it is, or we won’t be able to find an exit from your heaven. Follow the road, for now, and your mind will take you where you need to go”.

Sam nods to himself, feeling defeated. Castiel is the heaven expert, after all, there’s no avoiding this. He prays that seeing this memory won’t bring up any awkward conversation later. And on the side, he thanks god for Dean not being here.

Then he drives to the parking lot, for the last time, and this time, he lets the memory play out like it happened.

----------

They had been sitting for a while, Sam had turned the seat warmer back on and Cas had changed position so that his legs were closer to the middle of the car, knees pressed together. Sometimes he closed his eyes for a bit and Sam wondered what was on his mind. He felt like asking how things were, but he didn’t want this calmness to end. When Cas was around, Sam’s thoughts never, not once, wandered back to the agonizing guilt and anxiety like they did all the time when he was alone. He felt safe. That was Cas’ aura, or just his effect on Sam, specifically. 

Sam’s thoughts did wander, though, but into a different sphere completely. He thought about Cas’ past and his relationships to people and other angels, and his family. Cas’ never-ending hope and faith. He thought about how Cas was an actual angel, with wings, and powers, and probably a halo, and his own language (that now was connected to Sam too, because it was written on his ribs), too. He thought about how he felt so much better as soon as he saw Cas, and heard his voice, which was actually not his voice, but Jimmy Novak’s voice. The way Cas talked was his own, though, Jimmy had sounded completely different, walked different, even smelled different. Sam wondered how could that be? Does a soul - or whatever angels are or have - have a scent? Sam thought about how he wanted to see what Cas really looked like, if he even was anything physical, he wondered if he could ever really hear Cas’ voice. He wondered if angels could read minds, as they could read dreams, or… go inside dreams, maybe they could go inside people’s minds... Then he realised, this might be a dream and had the urge to pinch himself. It was not a dream.

“Why did you come now? I’ve called you many times before… why now?” Sam asked suddenly, thinking out loud.

Cas turned to look at Sam again, frowning a little, and answered: “I haven’t heard you before. Now, I felt like you were in trouble. I wouldn’t ignore your calls, Sam.”

“Oh,” Sam said, “But I wasn’t… in trouble.”

“I see that now,” Cas rubbed his knee with his hand, “maybe you were about to be.”

Sam blinked slowly. Was he about to be in trouble? Maybe it was possible? He could’ve been in trouble if Cas hadn’t showed up.

“Thanks. For coming. It helped.”

“I don’t see how I’m helping, but I’m always here for you Sam.”

Sam felt a bad itch to take Cas by the hand, and it surprised him. His arm twisted and stomach turned. 

“Uh, thank you, Cas. Really, I-”

“Sam, I do have a question,” Cas interrupted him suddenly and Sam was thankful, because he didn’t know where that sentence was going to end.

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever consider taking the offer?” Cas said “the offer” quietly, almost whispering. Sam stayed silent for a bit too long, because he didn’t want to think about this whole thing, but the answer was clear.

“No.” Sam looked Cas in the eyes, and felt his answer coming true as he said it.

“Good.”

A brief silence subsided in the car.

Cas inhaled and exhaled deeply and then said that Dean was considering the offer.

“Yeah, I could tell. He won’t do it, though.” Sam tried to reassure himself, mostly. Cas nodded and they looked at each other for a while longer. 

Sam thought about heading back to the motel. Cas looked away and felt tenser again.

“I admire you, Sam,” Cas said quietly, looking out from the windscreen.

Sam was taken aback by that, his stomach twisting and turning again. 

“You’re strong, and brave. There’s not many people like you,” Cas continued, now briefly looking at Sam and looking back outside again. The sun had set, only the leftover light left. It would be dark soon.

“Thank you. I feel weak and scared. But thank you,” Sam said, smiling at Cas. Cas looked at him, looking almost shocked.

“What do you fear?” Cas asked genuinely.

“Everything. Myself, the plan-”

“Yourself?” Cas’ voice was so soft and caring that Sam’s insides were bouncing around again.

“Yeah, Cas. I guess I’ve always felt a bit scared of myself.” Sam was looking at that strange collar again and now reached his hand out to fix it. It was folded under Cas’ jacket so he pulled it out and folded it neatly on the outside of it. Cas reached to touch Sam’s hand and held their hands up against his neck for a while and said:

“You are not someone to fear. I have never seen anything but kindness in you.”

They looked at each other for a moment, that felt like a forever, and Sam was holding Cas’ jacket’s collar and Cas was holding Sam’s hand carefully. Sam looked at their hands and back at Cas’ face, and back at their hands. He didn’t realise he hadn’t replied, that Cas was probably waiting for a reply.

Then Cas lowered his hand and Sam was left holding onto his collar, until he let go and straightened his own sleeve. Sam coughed awkwardly and said:

“Thanks Cas. I, uh, I should-”

“You should sleep, Sam. Get some rest,” Cas interrupted him and turned to look outside again.

“Yeah. Thanks again. For hanging out,” Sam confirms and nods a few times. He feels like he’s been punched to the gut and he wants to say more, to hang out more but it’s probably better this way, he’s getting too many emotions, he’s confused and tired and so lonely. So lonely.

“I’m always here for you, and you can call me on the mobile device, as well,” Cas said before looking at Sam for the last goodbye-look and disappearing. Sam was left alone in the car and suddenly it felt so cold. But he still felt the touch of the angel on his hand.

[ezilyamuzed]

There’s no place like home - part 6.

Summary: The reader has had a unique gift all her life. While considering it a curse, she discovers the identity of her real father after her mothers passing. Journeying towards her new life, she finds herself thrown within the Winchester’s world. Is it her destiny?

Setting: End of season 13. This takes place during episode 13.18.

Warnings: Language.  Flashback are italicized. POV may switch after certain sections. 

A/N: This is my awkward part of the story and I apologize. I hadn’t rewatched the episodes yet when I had started posting to mesh these in correctly to the episodes. Dean and Sam would not have left Gabriel. I promise that will not happen again. Additional note that the description of the handling of psychological files is not HIPAA compliant, it just had to work this way for the story. Your therapists are not reading your files at home!

Remember all comments and feedback are welcomed! If you want a tag in future posts regarding this series or other writings please send an ask! As always thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Gabriel was still a beaten and broken man hiding in the darkness of the bunker when they had returned, unwilling to speak or have anyone come close to him. Cas had just arrived, unknowing how bad the situation truly was. Ketch followed Dean on a mission to apocalypse world to find mom and Jack leaving his brother to watch and wait for their return. When Cas had heard what Dean was doing, he was furious at how Sam could let him do that, going into that world practically alone was a suicide mission. When Castiel saw Gabriel huddled in the dark corner of a room in the bunker, the gravity of the situation at hand hit him. 

“Where were you Sam, while you left Gabriel alone in this condition?” Castiel demanded.

“There was something we had to take care of Cas,” Sam replied while thinking about those last couple of days. 

“Who is Y/N,” Castiel growled while reading Sam’s mind, his eyebrows pushing together in concentration while holding back his fury towards Sam.

“You know I hate when you do that,” Sam replied with an annoyed tone while sitting down in the War room. “She is Bobby’s daughter, Cas. We just found out and well…we had to go and see for ourselves.”

“I understand your reasoning Sam, but you’ve wasted precious time that we did not have,” Castiel replied in a serious tone, not shifting his facial features as he spoke. 

“I know Cas. No more distractions,” Sam said solemnly. That was easier said than done. Y/N. The mysterious girl who showed up at one of the worst possible times. Y/N, the girl he needed to push out of his mind and forget. The girl he needed his brother to forget, at least for now. That was going to be the hard part. He saw the way his brother looked at her, he had never quite seen it before. Sure his brother did have the way with the ladies, but this was different. With Lisa his guard was up to protect her and Ben, but with Y/N? It was like they had known each other all their lives the way that they bantered back and forth, it was just so…natural. Saving the world again almost seemed like the easier task now.

_______________________________________________________________ 

The drive to Lawrence wasn’t as horrible as you had thought it would be. Yes, you were going on only about two hours of sleep from the night before but there was something freeing about being in your baby on the open road again with the wind blowing your hair and the tunes turned up. Everything felt like it was going to be alright for once in a long time. 

Almost 7 hours later you found yourself parking in the driveway at your new home. A simple one-story cottage house tucked away in the woods on the outskirts of town, away from the business of people. Just the way you liked it. You allowed yourself to appreciate the change you were about to walk into, your new home. Your new start. 

Walking in the front door you sighed heavily at all the boxes and furniture that the movers had left in stacks. You definitely had work to do, but you happily accepted the challenge for the next 5 hours. Setting up all the furniture just right and stacking the unneeded boxes for another night. Except for one. The patient files stored on little flash drives you had collected over the last decade since you were in your doctoral internship. Inside the box, they stayed tucked away within the small safe. You pulled it open to double check that they were all still safely secured, counting them one by one noting the dates of each. One had fallen underneath the couch as you started to place them back carefully in the safe. After pushing yourself to the floor to retrieve it, you glanced at the dates written on it. Something about it made you grab your laptop to open it up, imputing your password to unlock the contents. As you glanced through the initials one stood out in your memory more than the others, C.S., but why? You opened it and sat on the floor with your back against the couch, eyes widening as your past flooded back into your mind.

“Oh, my…Chuck.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Charles Shurley, white male early to mid-30’s complaining of severe headaches, anxiety with paranoia symptoms, insomnia, and vivid nightmares,” you read out loud before grabbing your new patient from the waiting room. You rocked back and forth in your office chair while looking over the intakes notes. “Admits to using alcohol to help himself sleep,” you gave a little scoff as you read it. “Don’t we all buddy.” 

You walked out to the waiting room, expecting a somewhat nervous man patiently waiting but what you found was a clearly shaken soul that looked like he was seconds away from jumping out of his own skin. Standing directly to the left of him, a bright glowing light figured with no face. An angel. This guy had a literal, honest to fucking God angel watching over him. You diverted your eyes away from it, not knowing exactly what it was doing here, with this man crumbling in his chair. Angels were unpredictable usually with their own “holy” twisted agendas.

“Charles,” you called out from the doorway.

He jumped up from his seat and followed your lead towards your little corner office that was sparsely decorated for use of other future interns when you left in a month. Honestly, if they hadn’t of been so short staffed at the moment you would be finishing up the termination and referrals for the people you had already been working with, not taking on a new client. The Angel followed him closely behind, you keeping it in the corner of your eye. This was going to be interesting. 

The two of you sat down in the somewhat comfy leather chairs, perfectly at the 90-degree angles you were taught they should be in. You crossed your legs as you watched him stare nervously at the ground. The Angel stood guard next to him, unfaltering.

“Charles, I’m Y/N,” you stated while trying to ignore the celestial entity in your office. “Were you informed prior to your consent signing that I am a doctoral student and not a licensed psychologist?”

He nodded his head yes in reply, still focusing on the ground. His hands trembling on his lap. His left foot bouncing off the ground.

“Charles? I will have some general questions for you for assessment purposes, but first, why don’t you tell me why you are here?”

“It’s Chuck actually,” he said while raising his eyes to yours. 

“Okay, Chuck,” you politely smiled. “What can I help you with?” 

“I’m going to sound crazy. You will probably end up throwing me in a padded room and tossing the key.”

Your gaze moved over towards the celestial being. Being followed by angels, now that was crazy. You shook away your thoughts and gave your best professional tone. “Are you harming yourself or others or have any plan to do so?”

“No,” he replied quickly.

You gave him a little half smile as you sat back a bit farther into the chair, not wanting to piss off his angelic handler by getting too close. “I don’t think there is any reason for that then.”

“You are going to think it’s crazy.”

“I’ve heard a lot of crazy stories Chuck,” you said with a friendly smile, trying to calm down his nerves while thinking of how this situation was definitely in the top 10 of crazy.

He took in a deep breath and straightened himself out in his chair before replying. “I have these dreams. Almost like nightmares. When I wake up I can still remember every detail.”

“Remembering details in one's dreams is pretty common,” you stated in reply. “Sometimes we remember our dreams more because of the memories of events that happen to us during the day prior.”

“Yeah well, I don’t exactly go hunting wendigo’s, vampires, werewolves, and ghosts during the day.”

Your heart and breathing stopped suddenly at his words. What did he just say? Did he just say what you thought he said? You looked at his angelic guard in nervousness. It’s light flickering a yes to your thoughts. This guy is a goddamned prophet. 

“You are having dreams about supernatural entities?” you questioned while readjusting yourself to keep your expressions and body movement as calm as you could be.

“Not just them, but also these guys. Brothers and a dad hunting them across the country.”

“Are these individuals perhaps someone you may have met before?”

“No, I’ve never seen them, but in the dreams, I am not exactly interacting with them, more like watching a television show unfold.”

You felt yourself nod in reply. Definitely a prophet. But how much did he know? Did he even believe?

“Are you religious Chuck,” you questioned calmly.

“Like God and that stuff? I mean I know about it but I don’t exactly go to church or anything like that,” he replied in confusion to your question.

“Some people find religion to be an outlet when dealing with stress,” you calmly replied, answering his unspoken question. “So did you have prior knowledge or interest in the supernatural before these dreams started?”

His eyebrows scrunched while contemplating his answer. “I mean, I’ve read Dracula, and I’ve seen the Patrick Swayze movie but other than other that it had never been a hobby of mine.”

“Had never been? So is it now?” you questioned while wondering how far he had dug into the truth. 

“After I have a dream, I research some things about it online,” he replied quietly. “Almost everything I dreamt is right there, black and white.”

“So what do you do after?”

“I wake up and start writing it all down,” he said with tears forming in his eyes. “It’s like I can’t stop myself from doing it. Like someone is making me do it.” 

You looked over to the Angel, hatred forming in your eyes at what they were doing to this poor man. A man who had no clue what was happening to him. How far were they going to push him until he completely shattered?

“What happens if you don’t Charles?”

“My head feels like it is about to explode. I can’t do anything until I get it all out. I can’t think. I can’t sleep, and when I do sleep more of the story comes to me.”

“May I ask what you do for a living Chuck?” you asked to change the subject. His general background you were going to need anyways for your assessment, might as well do your job even though this was not what you expected to walk in.   “Nothing right now, it’s been too hard to try and do anything else since this began.”

“What kind of work would you like to be doing?”

“Well I went to school to be a writer,” he replied sheepishly.

You gave him an empathetic smile. “Well then maybe these dreams can be used as a blessing in disguise then.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said it was like a show playing right in front of you that you feel the need to write down, so do it,” you said while taking a quick glance toward the Angel. “Don’t stop yourself, take control. It could very well possibly reduce your other symptoms that you are having if you allow yourself to do it. Maybe you could turn it in for publication.”

“Then the whole world will think I am crazy,” he exclaimed.

You gave him a little shrug. “Use a pen name or blog them anonymously. Just get the story out of your system or you very well may drag yourself even further down.”

“A pen name,” he said quietly. “Monster Hunters by Joe Smith.”

“You may want to visit other possible names for the book title about the supernatural,” you replied with a little chuckle behind your voice. “Also you might find and use a name that means something to you.”

“Supernatural,” he replied while staring off in the distance. “I like it.”

____________________________________________________________

When Dean came back alone he was furious to discover that Gabriel had split during his absence. Mom, Jack, Ketch and now apocalypse world Charlie were counting on him to bring them back. To save them all. The weight of two worlds now weighing on his shoulders.

He pushed himself into his room, throwing everything that laid on his dresser in anger in one quick swoop. He sat down on the corner end of his bed and laid his face into his hands. What was he going to do now?

“Dean,” said the gruff voice of Cas while standing still I the doorway, observing the destruction Dean had made in his path. 

“Not now Cas,” Dean said while not looking up to him. 

“Dean, this is not your fault,” Cas stated solemnly. “We will find Gabriel, we will get to them.”

Cas continued talking about hopeful possibilities, none of them would be easy. What Dean wouldn’t do to just run away from it all, but he couldn’t. There were too many people counting on him. People he loved were on the other side. In this world, all the others he would and has laid down his life for, and now another person just got added to that list, Y/N.

“You are thinking about Bobby’s daughter,” Cas asked while already knowing the answer.

“How did you…”

“Sam informed me of her unexpected arrival,” Cas stated, interrupting Dean.

“Yeah well, that’s a whole other situation that we don’t have time for,” Dean quipped back.

“Dean, maybe you should take some time,” Cas said while feeling the frustration radiate off if Dean. “Maybe go and see her. Get your affairs in order while we figure out the next move.”

Dean sat there quietly pondering the idea. Every plan so far all had the same possible no-win situation if they did manage to get to them and stop Michael. These could very well be his last days on this earth at least. Seeing Y/N again, at least one last time sounded like the best plan he had heard all day. One last time to forget that the worlds were about to crumble all around him. 

Keep Reading Part 7 Here

Tags: @jaylarkson @waywardbaby @snffbeebee @iamabeautifulperson18

[schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte]

Bark at the Moon

A Supernatural story for @writingthingsisdifficult‘s 1000 Follower Celebration! Woot!

Details: First-person Reader-insert, Reader x Dean

Monster: Garm, the four-eyed, blood-stained [wolf]hound of Hel whose howl drives people insane.

Word Count: 8163 (Yeah, you read that right. I just...couldn’t...stop.)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide (and violence pertaining to the methods)

*****

I finish my shift at nine at night, instead of three in the afternoon, bike home in the dark—which I hate doing—and nuke some of last night’s lasagna while I change out of my work-smock and into something more comfortable. Burning my mouth on the leftovers at the bar of my micro-apartment’s kitchenette, I glower at the calendar pinned to the fridge by a daisy magnet. 

I covered Ross’ shift on Sunday too, and here I was, trading with him again two days later because he had an inescapable engagement. There’s always the possibility that he’s a superhero, but it’s much more likely that he’s just a douche. And he is just the type of guy who would prefer to be anywhere else than working. I mean, so would I, but at least I keep it to myself. The rest of our coworkers know better than to get involved with him, but he knows that he can always depend on me—not because I like him or anything, but because I’m a pushover at work. The others take advantage of this too—if I’m already at the store, they take it as a given that I’m ready and willing to just keep on working—but theirs are real emergencies. Or at least I think they are.

The lasagna iss supposed to be my dinner tonight anyway—and the next night...and the next—but eating it this late just makes me angry. I put its Tupperware container back into the fridge—waste not, want not—and pull the plastic cake server across the counter. I serve myself a thick slice of carrot cake and lick every crumb and dab of frosting from my plate as I watch an old sitcom on Netflix. 

In the shower afterward, I think about my day off tomorrow. I have laundry to do, library books to return, and serving lunch at the soup kitchen downtown, which is the highlight of my week, to be honest. I’m always making too much food—thank goodness for Tupperware—but this isn’t a problem when feeding 150 hungry people. Some have a roof over their heads but can’t afford to feed themselves. Some come just to break bread with other human beings. Some are passing through, looking for work. And some have been living on the street since before I was born. A lot of them are veterans. A lot have mental health issues. All of them are victims of a broken system.

I make sure they get enough to eat and that they will be warm that night, and then I come home and eat my leftovers and fall asleep to Netflix or a good book. I always think I can be doing more. I’ve tried to get hired in to some administrative position, but with no formal schooling and being deathly afraid of telephone conversations, I’m only qualified for volunteer work in the cafeteria. But as much as I think a free meal is small-fries compared to what I could be doing for the homeless and impoverished community around town, I know that what the soup kitchen provides is important, a staple, a foundation.

And with my unsatisfied altruism at least sated for the time being, I curl up on my daybed with a hot cup of cinnamon spice tea and the last book in the stack I’m taking back tomorrow evening. My eyelids droop as I savor the last few pages again a short time later, and as I turn off the lamp and burrow into my nest of blankets, I think I hear howling in the distance. I take it for a coyote and slip smoothly into slumber. 

*****

I’m passing out extra-large rolls when one of my friends pauses in front of me at the end of the cafeteria counter. 

“Hi, Ben,” I sign, pulling a B down my cheekbone to represent his facial hair. “Roll?” I spell out.

“Yes,” he replies. “Thank you,” after I hand him his full tray. 

“Where’s Don?” I ask, tapping a D on my shoulder to represent the captain epaulettes on his service uniform. The two men are socks, gloves, turtle doves—they came in a pair. They even bunked next to each other in a secluded copse of trees by the old bridge out of town. 

“I don’t know. He went to bed last night, but he was gone this morning.”

This has me a little worried, as Don hasn’t wandered off since July 4th, when some assholes were tossing M-80s into the river and triggered a flashback. Fortunately, he had found his way to the war memorial in front of the library—hopefully he’s there again. 

“I’ll help you look for him after you eat,” I tell Ben, to reassure him and to move him along gently, since a line was building up behind him.

“Thank you,” he signs again, taking a seat at his usual table in the corner.

When I finish cleaning my station and say good-bye to the rest of the staff and a few other people, I walk my bicycle with a case of water in its basket while Ben tells me where he has already been to look earlier. He watches my face and reads my lips when I have questions, like if anything disrupted his own sleep or if he remembered anyone unusual hanging around that might have wanted to pick on a harmless veteran.

“Nothing,” he signs. “Nobody.”

We drop the water off at his camp, and I peek inside Don’s tent. The blankets are mussed, but things are still in their own kind of order. And Don would have put up a fight if someone came into his home.

“We’ll find him,” I tell Ben, pushing my bike beside him as we walked to the library—we don’t know how likely it is that Don went there, but we have to start somewhere.

He’s not outside, staring at the memorial like he had been doing six months ago, nor is he inside wandering among the stacks. The librarians haven’t seen him either—they know him, let him get a library card even without a permanent address.

I drop off my books because we’re there, and then we keep searching.

But by the time the sun starts to go down, we haven’t seen a sign of him, and those who know him haven’t seen him either.

“Sorry,” I tell Ben as I walk him back to their camp.

“We tried.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow and help you look more. And if he’s still missing tomorrow afternoon, we’ll go to the police.”

“Thanks.”

“Stay safe, Ben.”

“And you, Y/N,” he says, using the first letter of my name in his non-dominant hand as he signs the word aide.

*****

The library is on my route home, and I look at the structure as I ride past. I think about what could have happened to Don, whether something triggered another flashback or if malicious circumstances are at play. But who would want to hurt Don?

Something moves in the corner of my eye, and I turn just as a figure in what looks like a green jacket disappears around a corner of the building.

“Don?” I say out loud quietly to myself. “Don!” I call out without thinking.

A patron coming out of the library pauses and stares at me for a short moment and then continues on his way.

I turn my bike and pedal across the lawn after the figure I saw. But when I reach the other side of the building, whoever it was is gone. A small rear parking lot separates the library and a densely wooded area of the park. I wouldn’t go in there alone even in broad daylight, let alone dusk.

I pedal to my apartment quickly in the dark chill, questioning if I saw anything at all. I’ll have to ask the librarians again if Don showed up after Ben and I left. It’s not until I get inside and take off my coat that I realize how hungry I am, and no wonder—I only had cinnamon toast for breakfast.

I heat up some lasagna and watch Netflix on my laptop at the counter. I didn’t check out any new books today, so I have nothing to read, but the search for Don has left me exhausted—I can only imagine how Ben must feel.

After a quick, hot shower, I’m ready for bed. As I snuggle into my blankets, I hear a coyote howl again. But I’m more awake tonight than I was before, and it doesn’t actually sound like a coyote. A coyote’s call undulates much more than what I’ve heard. Rather than a coyote’s yips, this long, steady howling sounds like a wolf. A chill runs down my spine when I hear it again, and I pull a pillow over my ears, wondering what a wolf was doing so close to civilization.

*****

A buzzing wakes me the next morning, and I realize from the way the light falls through the windows that I overslept. But Ross is covering my shift because I covered for him on Sunday, so I forgive myself for forgetting to set my alarm.

The buzzing stops, and I recognize it as my phone. I stretch and reach for it on the coffee table and am confused when my caller ID shows my manager Toby’s name and number.

The phone starts buzzing again with a call from Toby, and a niggling pressure settles between my eyes.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Y/N, are you okay? Where are you? Why didn’t you come in? Or call in? You’re a half-hour late! If you don’t have a good reason for this, I’m gonna have to write you up!”

“I didn’t come in because I traded with Ross,” I explain, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of my daybed. “I worked his shift Sunday. And I worked it Tuesday, so I’m off Friday too.”

“No one told me!” Toby huffs. “And Ross isn’t here! It’s his day off. And you’re on the schedule! Y/N, you have to come in.”

“Call Ross,” I tell him. “I have an emergency to deal with today.”

“Come in and cover your shift until I can get in touch with Ross and figure out what’s going on,” he says.

“I just told you what’s going on. Toby, my friend is missing!” I practically shout. “I have to look for him.”

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N,” he soothes, “but I need you to come in. An hour tops.”

I hold a pillow against my face and groan into it. “Fine,” I snap. “An hour. Call Ross as soon as I hang up.”

“See you soon. Hurry.”

*****

The niggling pressure becomes a full-blown headache by the time I get to work across town. Toby meets me in the breakroom as I wheel in my bike, and I know from the look on his face that I’m screwed.

“Ross isn’t answering,” he says, and I seriously contemplate murder for the first time in my life. “I’ll let it go that you’re late because of the misunderstanding, but I need you to work your regular shift today. And maybe tomorrow.”

“It’s not a misunderstanding,” I try to say as calmly as I can. “I worked doubles Sunday and Tuesday. My time card proves it. If I work today and tomorrow—even if I just work today—I’ll go over 40 hours.”

“And I’ll look over your time card and consider approving the overtime.”

“What do you mean consider?” I ask. “If I’m working overtime, I’m getting paid for that overtime.”

“Then just work four hours today to bring your hours up to 40,” he tells me. “I’ll keep calling Ross. If he doesn’t pick up, I’ll ask someone else to cover your shift this afternoon and tomorrow.”

“Fine,” I say. I would rather eat glass than thank him for his shitty compromise.

“Okay. See you out there.”

When he’s back in his office, I call the assistant director of the soup kitchen and let her know that I won’t be in to help with lunch today after all. She’s much more sympathetic about the fiasco at work than Toby was about Don’s disappearance.

“If you see Ben, can you tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can?”

“No problem. I take it Don still hasn’t shown up?”

“No, not a sign of him.” I don’t mention the figure that may or may not have been him at the library, if there was even a figure there at all.

“Do you need more bodies? I can spare a few of the cleaning staff.”

“That’d be great. Thank you, Deena.”

“All right, I’ll see you later.”

“Yep. Bye.”

*****

Toby finds me as I’m clocking out. Ross finally picked up his phone. He completely forgot about today. Toby wrote him up, and he’s coming in to finish my shift and covering for me tomorrow.

“Fine,” I say again. The two men have just wasted four hours of my day, time I could have used to keep looking for Don. I’m not thanking Toby for giving me less than what I had coming to me.

I pop a couple of aspirin and bike back across town to the soup kitchen. Ben has already eaten and is ready to go. I have a short meeting with Deena and a handful volunteers for a search party. I tell them where Ben and I have already looked, but the places are worth trying again if he’s still on the move—if he isn’t hurt, or trapped somewhere, or somehow immobilized.

Ben and I look out for him on our way to the police station. Nothing.

I don’t know the exact model of the black classic car parked in one of the spots reserved for official business, but I allow myself the distraction of admitting what a beauty she is.

Over the desk sergeant’s counter, I have a clear view of the officers’ bullpen and two tall men in dark suits among the beige uniforms. They’re deep in conversation with what might be the sheriff himself.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” the desk sergeant asks.

“Yes, we’d like to report a missing person,” I reply, glancing over at Ben.

“I’ll get someone to help you with the paperwork,” she says, waving for an officer’s attention.

We’re taken through to a desk some feet away from the two strangers and the sheriff, and the officer starts asking for Don’s information. When he asks how long he’s been missing and I tell him since yesterday morning, he stops writing and sighs.

“Ma’am, we have to wait at least 48 hours before starting a missing-person investigation,” he explains.

I interpret for Ben, then wipe my hand down my face in near exasperation.

“You don’t understand,” I tell him. “Don is a very predictable man. He and Ben are practically joined at the hip. Something’s happened to him.”

“My hands are tied until it’s been 48 hours,” the officer—Preston—repeats.

“Listen, he’s a homeless veteran,” I say slowly. “He has mental-health issues. He has a routine, and he would not break it. He went to bed last night, just feet away from his friend, and he was gone yesterday morning. Something…is…wrong.”

“Excuse me.”

I look up and to my left and into the brightest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen.

“I’m Agent Osbourne from the CDC,” one of the suits says gruffly, but it’s because of the deep pitch of his voice and not the tone of it. He offers his hand, and I shake it as he nods to the even taller suit with dark shaggy hair. “This is my partner Agent Leonard.”

“Y/N,” I introduce. “This is my friend Ben Mayhew.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Osbourne says. “Excuse me for eavesdropping, but I understand a friend of yours has disappeared?”

“He’s more Ben’s friend,” I reply, continuing to interpret. “This officer is saying there’s nothing the police can do until it’s been 48 hours.”

“Under normal circumstances, no,” Agent Osbourne says, looking back and forth equally between me and Ben. Then he turns back to the sheriff. “Sheriff Bernard, may we move this interview into your office?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course.”

We congregate in the private room, Ben and I in the guests’ chairs, Bernard behind his desk, and Osbourne and Leonard in front of the window beside him.

“You said your friend went missing two nights ago?” Osbourne clarifies.

“We said good-night,” Ben signs as I interpret. “He likes to read before sleep. He has a lantern. I saw the light. I fell asleep. When I woke up, his tent was open and he was gone. I waited, cleaned up. He never came back.”

“And he has mental-health issues, you said?” Leonard recalls. “Schizophrenia?”

Ben shakes his head. “PTSD, anxiety. He’s a Vietnam veteran.”

“Has he ever done anything like this before?” Bernard asks me.

“Not often,” Ben answers. “He had a flashback July 4th. Some guys had loud fireworks near our camp. We found him in a few hours of knowing he was gone.”

Bernard regards me. “So, did you check the place where you found him last time?”

“Of course,” Ben signs. “That’s the first place we looked yesterday.”

“And is he known for being a danger to himself or others?” Bernard asks me.

“Sheriff Bernard, I’m just the interpreter,” I inform him. “Please direct your questioning toward Mr. Mayhew.”

“Oh.” He glances at Ben. “Sorry.” Then he leans forward and says loudly and slowly, “Is he dangerous?”

“Why is he talking like that?” Ben signs to me.

“Because he’s an asshole,” I only sign, forming an F with my hand, turning the circle of my thumb and finger up on top, and pushing it out from my chest toward Bernard with more than a little force.

Osbourne huffs out a soft laugh, Leonard elbows him in the ribs, and he covers with a pronounced cough. I blush when I realize that at least Osbourne understands some ASL.

“What did he say?” a clueless Bernard questions.

“He said he’s not dangerous,” I tell him tightly. “Don’s defensive and probably confused if he’s been triggered again. And if he’s not hurt already, he needs to see a familiar face before he does get hurt.”

“The way he was acting the past several days,” Leonard brings up to Ben. “Was it strange or unusual at all?”

“No, I don’t think so. Whatever happened to him, it happened quickly, while I was sleeping.”

“Miss Y/N, I don’t mean to pry,” Osbourne says to me, “but do you live anywhere near the two gentlemen’s camp?”

“About a mile away,” I answer.

“And did you happen to notice anything, hear anything, out of the ordinary two nights ago, or last night perhaps?”

“No, not really. I mean, I heard a wolf howling,” I recall. “I thought it was a coyote the first time. I remember thinking it sounded awfully close.”

The two agents exchange a look, and it dawns on me that they’re from the CDC, with diseases, and plagues, and outbreaks.

“Do you think there’s a wolf out there preying on people?” I ask them, looking briefly at Ben as I interpret for him.

“Wolf?” he repeats, and I nod.

“Like, is it rabid or something?” I go on. “Is that why you’re here? Is someone else missing?”

Their eyes meet again for just a second.

“They’re not missing anymore,” Leonard carefully phrases, and I catch enough from his grim tone to understand what he means by that.

“They died? Did the wolf maul them? Did it just bite them and pass on some kind of infection? There was no blood in Don’s tent, no struggle.”

“He could’ve gone off in the middle of the night to relieve himself,” Osbourne conjectures.

“Did it maul the other person, or people, or not? How many are there?” I demand.

“Three,” Leonard says.

“Your friend makes four,” Osbourne says. “Another homeless man in a city to the north, a hiker, and a bartender walking to her car after work. It didn’t maul them, but it infected them with something, some sickness, and they completely lost touch with reality.”

“What happened to them?” I want to know.

“There were a couple of days of odd behavior and mostly-incoherent rants,” Leonard tells us. “Then they committed suicide.”

“How?” Ben asks.

They exchange another look.

“How?” I repeat for myself.

“The bartender walked in front of a bus,” Leonard relates. “The hiker jumped from a window in his fifth-story walk-up. The homeless man was picked up for vagrancy and disturbing the peace and committed for a 72-hour hold in a county hospital.”

“He ran into a wall head first until he broke his neck,” Osbourne shares.

“Clearly not premeditated in any of the cases,” I remark.

“No,” Osbourne agrees. “That’s why we need to find your friend as soon as possible. He’s already susceptible to intrusive and irrational thoughts. We need to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

“And you need to find that wolf,” I tell them. “Why isn’t the DNR helping you track the animal?”

The agents’ eyes meet again in that furtive way for the fourth time, and in that moment, if I didn’t know any better, I would swear that they’re related.

“Oh, they’re helping,” Leonard insists. “They’re…checking out where the wolf might’ve come from…and Agent Osbourne and I are checking out whether whatever the wolf is passing on isn’t contagious between humans.”

“Well, if there is a wolf, Don almost certainly came into contact with it himself,” I figure. “His and Ben’s camp is pretty secluded, and Don doesn’t take too well to strangers on a good day. And we’re wasting time when we could be looking for him.”

I stand, Ben gets to his feet, and the two agents straighten to attention while the sheriff pushes himself up stiffly behind his desk.

“We’ll walk you out,” Osbourne offers, a small smile on his lips.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Sheriff,” Leonard says. “We’ll be in touch.”

Bernard tips his head. “Gentlemen. Ma’am.” He stares at Ben. “Sir.”

Ben and I both give him a cursory wave—I’m certainly not going to thank him—and follow the agents out into the chill of the late afternoon. Osbourne hands me a card with a handwritten number on it.

“This is where you can reach us, if you think of anything else,” he tells me. “Maybe we should get your information too, if we have any more questions.”

“Pen?” I request. “Paper?”

He produces a blank card with a flick of his wrist, a pen with another, and I write down my cell number for him. He flashes a smile when I give everything back to him, and I almost forget why he and his partner are here in the first place. Almost.

“Well, we have to get back out there,” I tell him.

“I don’t think that’s wise,” he shares. “But somehow I think nothing short of tying you to the bed will stop you.”

“I…” I feel my cheeks warm. “Well, you’re not wrong. Bye, Agent Osbourne. Agent Leonard.”

Ben waves to them both with more amiability than he had for the sheriff.

Across the parking lot, I stop Ben and ask him, “Can you read their lips from here?”

He turns to check. They’re standing beside the black car I noticed on the way in. “Just one of them. Osbourne.”

“What’s he saying?”

Ben raises an eyebrow but watches them beside their car. “She’s smart. She put a lot of things together, and quick. I told you one of us should have been from the DNR.” He looks at me, confused. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Keep going,” I instruct him gently.

He turns his eyes back to Osbourne. “If he was still in town, his friends would’ve found him by now. There’s 30 acres of woods on the edge of the park that opens up to the county nature preserve. We’ll start there. If we get to him before he’s completely disconnected from reality, we may be able to get him help and reverse the effects.” He drops his hands and spins on his heels away from them.

I peek at the two men and see them watching us. “Shit. Let’s go.”

“Y/N, what’s happening?” Ben repeats as we wander back to his camp.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t think you should sleep by yourself for a while. I’m going to call Deena and try to get you a bed at the shelter—just for a few days.”

“I can’t leave. I have to be home if Don comes back.”

“It’s not safe!”

“I don’t care!”

I sigh at him, exasperated, and know that he’s just as stubborn as I am. “We have to keep looking for him. The agents—or whoever they are—mentioned the woods. I saw—or thought I saw—Don go into the woods behind the library on my way home last night.” I notice the gloom of the dying day and stop Ben. “It’ll be dark soon. I would never force you into a dangerous situation.”

He doesn’t even have to think about it. “I have flashlights and a can of bear spray in my tent. Bear spray will work on a wolf, won’t it?”

I nod with a small smile. “Let’s go.”

*****

As we reach the hidden path down the embankment to their shelter of trees, I see a flash of movement halfway across the bridge. I look closer and pick out a form between the steel webs and the railing.

“I think it’s Don,” I share with Ben. “Walk with me. Steady. Don’t startle him.”

“He’s going to jump,” Ben says. “He’s going to kill himself, like the others.”

“Not if we can help it,” I tell him. “Come on.”

We cross the bridge slowly, staying in the middle so he can’t see our approach. When we get even to him, with only the webs between us, I squint my eyes against the sun lying just above the horizon and realize that Don is standing on the outside of the railing. His service jacket is splotched with dark mud, and one of the shoulder seams is ripped.

“Careful,” I tell Ben.

He nods.

I step closer. “Don?”

The familiar figure has been looking at the water 150 feet down, but his head shoots up at my voice.

“Don. Don Fletcher,” I say softly. “Do you know who I am? It’s Y/N.”

He keeps his hold on the railing tight as he cranes his head enough to the side to see me. His face is dirty, and his eyes are wide and unfocused.

“Don’t…don’t,” he rasps. “Don’t…”

“It’s okay, Don,” I tell him gently. “I’m your friend, remember? Y/N.”

“It’s coming,” he whispers. “It’s…it’s coming. It’s gonna….end… End it all.”

“It can’t hurt you, Don. You’re safe now.”

“It’s coming,” he repeats.

“What’s coming, Don? Talk to me. Come back over here and tell me about it.”

He looks down at the water again. I feel a hand on my arm and turn to Ben.

“Don,” I try again. “Ben’s here.”

His head comes up, but he keeps it forward toward the sunset.

“You remember Ben. He’s your best friend.”

“Ben,” Don says, so soft I barely hear it.

I think we’re getting through to him. I actually feel Ben’s and my hope.

“It’ll come for you too,” Don says clearly. Then he lets go of the railing.

I lunge forward as he falls and get my hands around his arm, but the weight of him and the drop nearly pull me over with him. Then Ben grabs my waist and the rail to hold me back. Don grips my wrist with one hand and scrabbles at my arms with the sharp fingers of his other. I see a fear in his big eyes—not that I won’t let him go, but that I will.

“No,” he gasps. “No!”

“I’ve got you,” I say, but I don’t know for how long. I don’t think I can pull him up even with Ben’s help, and I can’t hold onto him forever. “I’ve got you.”

“Don’t…don’t…”

I’m thinking of how I can get an arm free to grab his other wrist, or how I can make him understand that he has to swing his legs up somehow. Then another weight is behind me, wrapping its arms around me, and I turn to find Agent Osbourne, out of the suit and in a leather jacket and jeans. He meets my eye and the desperation he must see on my face is mirrored by the determination I see on his.

He works his way around me and Ben, hooks a leg in the middle railing, and leans over the top bar to grasp Don’s left arm.

“When I grab the waist of his pants,” he tells me, “pull.”

“Okay.”

He reaches down with his right arm and gets a fistful of fabric. “Now.”

With my adrenaline, his brute strength, and Ben as two more arms and legs, we manage to pull Don over onto the pedestrian walkway efficiently enough. Osbourne holds him down, though Don doesn’t appear to put up much of a struggle.

“It’s coming,” he sobs quietly. “It’s coming.”

“Call Sheriff Bernard,” Osbourne instructs me, catching his breath. “Tell him to send a cruiser, no sirens or lights.”

“Right.”

*****

We get Don to the psychiatric wing of the county hospital calmly enough, and a sedative upon admission is administered to keep him that way. Ben said he wouldn’t leave his side without a fight, and then they’d have to admit him anyway, so Osbourne and I have been watching them through the door of their room for the past fifteen minutes.

Don had clawed at my arms with such force that he ripped through my sleeve, shirt, and even my skin in some places, and a nurse cleaned and bandaged it while they were admitting him. But it was worth it—it had not been the actions of a man who wanted to die. With therapy and medication, Don has a chance. I updated Deena, told her about the rogue wolf, and asked her to find room for more beds for people at the shelter until it was captured.

“Who are you?” I finally ask the man I know isn’t any kind of federal agent, without looking away from Ben and Don. “Really.”

“Your friend did read our lips, didn’t he?” he evaded. “I knew it.”

“Who are you, and what the hell is going on around here?” I demand again.

He regards me from the corner of his eye and then sighs. “How much do you know about Norse mythology?”

“What?”

“Norse mythology. How much do you know?”

“I’m guessing you mean beyond the Marvel movies and comic books,” I reply mildly.

He huffs out a dry laugh. “There’s a legend about a wolf named Garm. Huge thing. Four eyes, blood-matted chest. A howl that drives people insane.”

“Are you serious?” I question.

He doesn’t say anything, but his expression is serious enough.

“It’s real?”

He tilts his head.

“Oh, my God.”

“He prefers Chuck.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Another time. Anyway, the research my brother and I have been able to compile—”

“Your brother? Who’s your—?” I cut myself off. “Agent Leonard. I knew it.”

“Sam, actually,” he shares.

“And you would be?”

“Dean.”

“Dean,” I repeat. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he grins.

“About this Garm,” I reintroduce.

“Right. Some of the tales confuse it with Fenrir, the wolf who will devour Odin during Ragnarök.”

“The death of the gods and the end of the universe,” I recall. Something clicks in my brain. “It’s coming, Don said. It’s going to end it all. Garm’s howling—even if he’s a separate entity from Fenrir, if it showed Don and the others Ragnarök and they saw the destruction of the entire universe, that could be enough to drive someone insane.”

“Some sources do suggest that Garm is a herald of Ragnarök. And some say it guards the entrance to Hel itself.”

“If I saw Hel, I’d probably lose my mind too,” I admit. “In any case, we have to stop it.”

“You’re taking to this really well.” He almost sounds impressed.

“Well, one of my closest friends almost died,” I remind him. “It’s shock. It’ll wear off, and I’m probably going to scream and swear a lot.”

“No, I don’t think so. You were very perceptive, inquisitive, earlier. Do you do it professionally?”

“Professionally, I stock shelves in a dollar store,” I relate, turning back to the older men. “How do we get rid of it?”

“As I was saying, English translations of this stuff are pretty scarce, and my Old Norse is a little rusty.”

“You’re hilarious,” I deadpan.

“I try,” he smirks. “From what my brother and I have learned, we have to feed it something.”

“Any kind of something, or a specific something?”

“Specific something, but we’re still trying to figure out what.”

“Well, before we can feed it, we have to find it.”

“We, huh?”

“It almost killed my friend,” I tell him. “If that thing is a Hel-guardian, I’m going to help you send it back where it came from.”

He stares at me, considering, contemplating something. I stare right back.

“Let’s go to my motel room,” he says at last.

“What?” I choke out.

“Our books are there, our equipment.” He raises an eyebrow. “What did you think I meant?”

I bite my tongue to stop from embarrassing myself.

Dean grins at me—he can guess. “Believe me, sweetheart, you need to save your energy for hunting.”

“I didn’t—I wasn’t…” I release a long breath with my hands on my hips. “You don’t know—”

“Yes, I do,” he says simply, turning away toward the elevators. “Because I was thinking it too.”

*****

We walk in the night to the motel. Dean and Sam had set out on foot to track Garm and at least figure out if and where it’s bedding down to sleep, so that it will be easier to find it again when they know what they need to feed it. They had separated, but with a gun full of special bullets and mp3 players full of classic rock, they each felt safe from the thing’s howl and teeth.

“Are you hungry?” Dean asks as he lets us into his room.

My stomach growls in reply.

“Burgers okay?” he all but chuckles.

“Burgers are fine.”

“Coffeepot’s somewhere on the desk under all that paper,” he gestures. “There’s more books in Sam’s room—connecting door’s right there. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay.”

When I’m left alone, I look around at the clutter—old notebooks on half of the bed, leather-bound tomes piled five or six high on the round table in front of the window. Dean’s suit is hanging in a garment bag in the closet, but the rest of his clothes are spilling out of a duffel bag on a chair in the corner. Faded tee shirts, flannel shirts, jeans. I see the waistband of a pair of underwear and concentrate on making a pot of coffee.

I’m in the middle of a cup of sweetened black and an encyclopedia of Norse mythology when Dean returns with cheeseburgers and fries from a diner I’ve eaten at a few times.

“Anything?” he wonders, laying out the food.

“I’m cross-referencing Garm with Odin, Tyr, Thor, Loki. So far, nothing.” I bite into a cluster of fries. “Check in with your brother?”

“Yeah, his GPS says he’s somewhere on the edge of the park,” he says, tucking into a burger and another book. “He thinks he found some tracks, but it’s hard to tell if it’s Garm’s or just a plain old wolf’s.”

“Are they fresh?”

“He thinks so. He’ll text us when he knows for sure.”

“Us? You told him I’m helping you?”

“Yes…” he draws out. “Credit where credit’s due, right?”

“Right, yeah.” I turn back to my book.

“What is it, Y/N?” he asks.

“Nothing. I just want to send this thing back to Hel as soon as possible.” A light bulb goes on in my mind, and I gasp, nearly choking on a piece of greasy beef.

“Woah, hey, careful.” Dean leans around to smack my back. “Y’all right?”

I swallow the bite and wash it down with some coffee. “Yeah, yeah. Hel!”

“What’s wrong?”

“No, Hel—Loki’s daughter,” I explain. “Garm is a hound of Hel.” I flip through the pages of the encyclopedia until I get to Hel’s section. “She’s the half-dead ruler of the realm of the same name. And the entrance is guarded by a monstrous hound—Garm.” I skim the passages. “Here. For a living soul to enter Gnipa cave and Hel beyond, Garm may only be appeased by one who has served life to the Folk. Offer a Hel-cake to the hound and pass into the realm of the dead.” I look up at Dean. “What’s a Hel-cake?”

“And how specifically does a person have to serve life to the folk to fit that description?” he adds.

I shrug. “You do yours, and I’ll do mine.”

He shrugs too and goes back to reading.

Sometime later, our cartons of food and cups of coffee are empty, Dean has his laptop out, and I’m on Sam’s digging through recipe blogs.

“If I never see another Pinterest board after this,” I mutter, “it’ll be too soon.”

A small laugh leaves Dean in a soft huff. “Find anything?”

“Wait, I think…” I minimize several browser windows so that the thoughts in my head can follow a reasonable chain. “Okay, hear me out.”

“I’m all ears.”

“The only recipe I found for Hel-cake is from an Irish chef. Her Irish-ness has nothing to do with this, but apparently, hell is how you pronounce the Hebrew word for cardamom. I mean, the Norse word for cardamom is kardemomme, but if we transliterate the Hebrew word into the Roman alphabet, we get H-E-L. Transliteration is subjective up the wazoo, and I’m making some assumptions here that could be dangerous if I’m wrong—”

“It’s all we’ve got, Y/N. It’s worth a try,” Dean says kindly. “What’s the recipe?”

“It’s a cardamom sour-cream cake. We can bake it at my apartment.”

He closes his laptop lid. “All right, write down the ingredients and let’s go shopping.”

*****

As the cake bakes, Dean tells me that he didn’t get far with what Folk could mean beyond the genre of music or people in general.

“That probably means you,” I suggest from beside the oven, leaving him to sit alone on the other side of the counter. I had embarrassed myself earlier with an angry outburst when he had exclaimed Oh, Baby as he started the engine of his car—a ’67 Chevy Impala, I learned—but he hadn’t been talking to me when he said it. “You told me you and your brother are…hunters? That this isn’t the first monster to wreak havoc in small-town America. You serve the people by protecting them from all sorts of supernatural beasts and agendas. You preemptively save their lives.”

“Maybe. It’s worth a shot.”

With the cake out of the oven, I serve Dean the last slice of my carrot cake so that I can put the Hel-cake on the plastic server and into the freezer to cool faster.

“This is so good,” he praises with his mouth full. “Do you have any milk?”

I chuckle at him and pour a glass for each of us before making the icing.

As I drizzle the sour-cream icing over the top and sides of the single-layer cake, Dean rinses the dishes and sets them in the strainer and then comes up behind me and puts his hands on my waist. It startles me, but it’s a comfortable sensation.

“I can’t let you come with me, Y/N,” he breathes into my hair.

“No way,” I refuse, turning around in his arms. “I’ve helped you this far. I baked the freaking cake.”

“It’s too dangerous,” he insists. “If I can’t protect you—”

“I’ll protect myself, thank you very much,” I tell him.

“Have you ever shot a gun?” he asks.

“I went hunting with my dad when I still lived at home,” I share.

“Deer and turkeys are not hounds of Hel, or wendigos, or vampires,” he resists.

“That’s not what you asked,” I retort, pushing him away so I can get another one of my coats. “Like you said, short of tying me to the bed, nothing’s going to stop me.”

He secures the lid of the cake server with a sigh and pulls on his own jacket. “Do you have an mp3 player, earbuds?”

“In my coat pocket.”

He sighs again. “I’ll give you a gun when we get to the park.”

“Well, you can hand over the cake now,” I tell him. “Since you’re driving.”

*****

We meet Sam at the edge of the wooded area. He tracked Garm’s paw prints to a small cave just beyond the park and into the nature preserve and pinned the location on his phone’s GPS.

I trade Dean the cake for a pistol loaded with silver bullets. He gives me two extra clips just in case.

“Be careful,” he says over the blaring of music in our ears.

“Likewise,” I all but have to shout.

Sam leads us into the trees, I follow in the middle with the pistol’s safety off but my finger away from the trigger, and Dean brings up the rear.

The flashlights attached to our guns bob along the ground in front of us for what feels like forever in the cold darkness, but then Sam pauses and I stop short. I peer around him, and there is the cave.

A large wolf stands in front of its entrance, head down, hackles up, teeth bared. Its shoulders stand as tall as my waist—his head would probably be as tall as my chest, if not higher. Its black eyes glow menacingly at us—how black eyes can even glow is beyond me. Another set of eyes, smaller and glowing a milky gray, lie on its head between the first pair and its ears. Blood drips from its muzzle, and the fur on its chest is matted with the stuff.

Dean steps forward past me and Sam, already having removed the lid of the cake server. Garm’s attention moves to him as he slowly approaches the beast. As he crouches forward to set the platter on the ground as an offering, Garm snaps at him. Its powerful jaws are at least two feet short of its target, but the warning works. Dean backs up to us, and we keep an eye on it, guns at the ready, while we try to come up with a new plan.

“Obviously, I’ve never served the Folk,” Dean says loudly. “Sammy, something tells me you don’t fit either. Y/N.” He leans close. “Get behind us and start backing up nice and slow. Maybe the silver can immobilize it for now, while we find someone who can stop it, or maybe it can kill it outright. Reach into my right pocket,” he tells me.

I do, and pull out a set of keys.

“When the shooting starts,” he says, “run to the car.”

I shake my head. “No!”

“Now, Y/N,” he directs sternly.

“Stop telling me what to do!” I yell back. “I know I’m just some small-town stock-clerk, who volunteers at a soup kitchen so I don’t die from loneliness, but—” The angry words dissolve in my throat as the last puzzle piece locks into place. “Give me the cake.”

“Are you out of your mind!?”

“Thanks to Queen blasting in my ears, no. But it’s me. I’m the servant,” I realize. “The Folk aren’t just people—they’re ordinary people. Common people. And in the feudal system a thousand years ago, ordinary common people were the poor. And bread is a staple. The Bible even calls it the staff of life. I’m in charge of rolls at the kitchen. Don’t you see? I have to make the offering.”

From the look on Dean’s face, I think he would have preferred a gunfight to me figuring that out.

“Give me the cake, Dean.”

“Give it to her, Dean,” Sam tells his brother. “We got her covered.”

He hesitates but reluctantly passes me the platter. “The same goes—if the shooting starts, run.”

“Okay.”

Taking a step toward Garm, I see teeth, shiny in the lights from the firearms Dean and Sam have pointed at it, but it hasn’t moved closer. As I slowly approach, the cake server low so that the it can see the gift, it stops snarling and licks its chops. From the rippling of its jowls, though, it’s still growling, and the short fur on its back is still raised in warning.

I take one more small step and put the server on the forest floor, backing up until Dean grabs the back of my coat and pulls me to his side. Watching us, Garm creeps up to the cake, sniffs it, and devours it in a few massive mouthfuls.

“What if that wasn’t enough?” Sam asks.

“It said a Hel-cake,” I tell him.

“And technically, that was a Hel-cake,” Dean adds.

Garm licks its chops again and lies down, its great forepaws covering the cake server. It drops further, onto its side, panting. I almost can’t believe when its fur starts smoking—but until a few hours ago, I didn’t believe that all the monsters from my childhood bedtime stories actually exist.

The thick, gray cloud covers its body and seeps low over the ground toward us. I smell something like the most rotten of eggs and start to cough.

“Sulphur,” Dean says. “Cover your mouth. Watch out.”

We stand ready with our weapons, in case it has the strength to get up and attack us. But when the smoke dissipates a moment later, Garm is nothing but a pile of ashes.

I turn to Dean to ask him whether it’s over, and he’s already removing his earbuds, Black Sabbath resounding out until he cuts the music. Sam and I turn off our music and pocket our players too, and Sam steps forward with a vial in his hand.

“Stay back,” Dean tells me, keeping his arm around me. “He’s cleansing the remains.”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t want to keep the cake server, did you?” he manages to joke.

“Definitely not.”

*****

Dean walks me to the front stoop after they drive me home.

“Interesting line of work you guys are in,” I remark as the eastern horizon begins to lighten.

“Who knows how much longer this case would’ve gone on without your help,” he tells me. “You were incredible.”

“It all feels like a dream,” I admit. “That could be the sleep deprivation talking.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to wake up.”

He holds my head in his hands and sets his forehead to mine. “Neither do I.”

“You don’t suppose…”

“What?”

“I’m one hell of a researcher,” I don’t mind mentioning. “I’m good with people. I bet I would’ve been good with that gun too, if I had to use it. And if I’m not, I can learn.”

His eyes light up with wary hope, but his smile is sad. “Y/N, you don’t know how much I would love…” He stops himself. “It may feel like a dream now, but sometimes…sometimes it’s a nightmare. And you can’t wake up. And there’s sleep deprivation, and exhaustion, and things that will make you question your entire existence…”

“You’re 0 for 3 trying to scare me off, Dean,” I point out.

“It’s not an easy life, Y/N.”

“This one hasn’t exactly been a peach,” I mutter. “And I’m not looking for easy. But I think I’ve been looking for you.”

He sighs and finally lets himself admit, “I think I’ve been looking for you too.”

He tilts his head to the side and presses his lips to mine, and I wrap my fingers around his wrists. When he draws away, his smile isn’t sad anymore.

“How long will it take you to pack?” he asks.

My breath leaves me in a giggly rush. “A day. It’s just my bed and a few tables, some dinnerware and linens. Almost everything but my clothes can go into storage.”

“Sam and I will come back and help after we crash for a few hours at the motel.”

“I have to make sure Ben and Don are going to be all right. And the most important thing of all.”

“What’s that?” Dean wonders.

“I have to call my manager and tell him I quit.”

*****

A/N: Like Dean mentions, information on Garm in English is hard to find. I did the best I could, and I made a lot of educated guesses. If I got something wrong, feel free to kindly let me know. This was so interesting to research and write. Congratulations, buddy! 😘

[sammys-happy-ending]

Desaturate: Chapter VI

Chapter Title: War

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: The reader wakes up in a room with Sam and Dean, not having a clue who they are. Through a series of flashbacks, the reader regains her memories, savoring all of the happy moments as well as the tragic ones, as she rediscovers her love for Sam.

Bookmark this piece on Archive of Our Own.

“Okay, Ellen, you get Jo. Dean, you get Rufus. I’ll hold off anyone that comes this way.”

“Y/N, you can’t kill them,” Ellen warned.

“I know,” I replied, “While Dean was out, he grabbed a BB gun. Not enough to kill, just enough to hurt like hell.”

Ellen looked pleasantly surprised. “Whose idea was that?”

I gave her my best bitch-face. “Mine, you really think he would have thought of that?” I was joking, but Dean’s expression was serious.  “Sure, it got grabbed by accident, but now it serves a purpose.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s get this show on the road,” Dean said.

I sneaked into the house, then headed up for the second floor. I was looking for a window that faced the street so I could cover Dean and Ellen’s tails, but instead, I opened a dark room with a fireplace and an excessive amount of candles. “Wow. If this isn’t a porno, it’s a fire hazard,” I muttered.

“Y/N?” Sam breathed my name with a combination of relief and confusion. He was tied to a chair, his hair and skin soaked in sweat. His cheeks were covered with what looked to be salt.

“Sam?” I lowered the pistol I was using for preservation and quickly walked over to him. I began to untie the knots binding him to the chair.

“Y/N, they’re not demons,” he began, but I cut him off.

“Its War. We know. Ellen and Dean are downstairs convincing Rufus and Jo right now.” Jo must have tied these knots. They were impossible to undo. I grabbed my knife from my belt and cut the ropes from him.

He rubbed his wrists appreciatively. “He’s using the ring.”

I thought back to the chaos at the church. He twisted the ring around his finger before everyone saw our eyes go black. “Right. That makes sense.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry for being rude back at the store,” Sam started.

“Not now, Sam. Apologies are accepted when we’re not about to die.”

He chuckled, and I heard him mutter under his breath, “If you stick around, you’ll never get one by that logic.”

We met up with Dean, Ellen, Jo and Rufus downstairs. I embraced Jo in the tightest bear hug I could manage. “I know you’re a bitch, but you’re no demon,” I told her. She laughed and returned my hug.

“Okay, enough with the Hallmark moments. We’ve got work to do,” Dean interrupted. We all nodded and split up. Rufus went to stop the shooting happening upstairs. Ellen went outside to stop the firing out there, and Jo stayed inside to watch Rufus’s back.

Dean, Sam and I all took off after The Horseman. The boys could run pretty quickly, but I kept an even pace with them. I was a track runner in high school and never kicked the habit. Running was how I relaxed. We caught a glimpse of Roger aka War heading toward his car. I stopped both boys and whispered, “Follow my lead.” They nodded, and I motioned for them to get out of War’s field of vision.

I walked out of the shadows. “Hey, asshat!” I shouted. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”

He stopped, laughing as he turned around. “You? Cute little Y/N? The girl playing hunter?”

Dean swooped in on his right side, pinning him to the mustang. “Oh she’s not playing, buddy. And neither are we.”

I watched as Sam drew a knife, a smug smile on his face. War’s demeanor changed from cocky to wary at Sam’s blade. “Whoa. Okay. That’s a sweet little knife you’ve got there, but come on. You can’t kill War, kiddos.”

“Oh, we know,” Dean retorted. Sam slammed War’s hand on the hood of his car and cut four fingers from his hand in a single swipe. I grimaced at the sight as screams echoed around the alley.

In a blink, War, his car, and the severed fingers were gone, the ring fell to the ground with a chime. Sam, Dean and I looked at each other, confused. Dean then reached down and picked up the ring. He examined it for a moment. “Think it’ll make me invisible?” He joked. Sam and I both rolled our eyes and returned to base camp to assess the damage.

“I can’t believe all of this,” Austin said, sitting on the grass in front of the house. “The apocalypse? Really?”

“You’d better believe it, kiddo,” Ellen assured.

“We don’t really like it either,” Dean said as the three of us walked toward the group of people. Dean, Sam, Ellen and Austin continued to chat amongst themselves. Austin was clearly still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. I felt sorry for him. I had just been in his shoes a few weeks ago. I tuned out of the conversation and looked around.

Amanda was with her husband, sitting under a tree. She leaned heavily on him, weeping, obviously exhausted from the chaos. He rubbed her back and held her close, one hand on her belly. I smiled a little bit at them. I’d never had that kind of love before, but I imagined it was nice. Maybe I would find it someday.

Sam’s laugh brought me back to the conversation.

“Sorry. What’s going on?”

“I was just telling the boys what an ass kicker you are,” Ellen explained.

“It’s true,” Sam said. “I would have been toast if she hadn’t kicked that demon off me.”

I scoffed. “Saving people’s asses is just part of the job description. Don’t feel special.”

Dean whistled at the burn his brother just received. I stood up and brushed off my pants, though they were positively filthy. “I’m going to head back to the car and wait for you and Jo. I need a shower and something to eat.”

Ellen nodded, getting up as well. “You’re right. Let’s get out of here. Don’t you boys keep me wondering if you’re alive or dead, you hear?” She scowled at the boys.

We had just started to walk toward Jo when Dean called my name. “Y/N!” I turned around.

“Yeah?”

Dean handed me a business card. “The name’s phony but the number is real. Give us a call if you get into any trouble.”

“Trouble seems to be every hunter’s middle name,” I retorted, taking the card from him.

He laughed at that. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m good backup in a fight.”

“I’m not sure you can say the same for your brother.”

“You really don’t like him, do you?”

“No. Not really. He was a bit of a dick to me when we were getting salt and that’s not a great first impression. Oh, and he set Lucifer free and started the apocalypse, so there’s that.” Dean sighed. “I know, I know. ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions. He believed he was doing the right thing.’ Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. I still don’t like him.”

“That’s fair. I think if you got to know him you’d really like him. He’s made some bad choices but he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I know.”

“The large heart may be because he’s Sasquatch, you know.”

He laughed. “You might be right.”

“You already know I am. I guess I’ll see you around, Dean,” I smiled up at him.

He returned my smile and pulled me in for a hug. “See you around, kiddo.”

I ran and caught up with Ellen and Jo, not bothering to say goodbye to Sam.  Ellen drove while Jo and I passed out in the car. I would refuse to tell anyone that I dreamt of Sam that night.

Chapter VII