#Like sorry it sounds like high pitch TV static in my ear

[ghostpyre]

I have not the best hearing (due to guns, chainsaws, and mild explosives) but I feel like it's gotten significantly worse in one ear over the past few months and I'm worried I might actually near hearing aids

[killjoyhistory]

“Stay Tuned…”: A Follow-Up

girlautomatic:

Alright, boys and girls, here is what we’ve come up with so far, loosely organized by channel and then a MISC section for everything else. I know this whole thing might not add up to any super-special mystery, but it’s fun to talk about, no? And, as one of the commenters brought up, Gerard did say he wanted it to be something fun.

So! What’s been guessed at so far:

Channel 0: I’m referring to the blank yellow channel that appears to be off, but still shows some kind of signal. It’s like the “home” channel.

RFDD: Looks like your standard issue NTSC Test Pattern or Test Card, down to that annoying single high-pitched beeeeeeeeeeee… No idea what the acronym/abbreviation might mean, though.

BLND: Screen also looks like a Test Card, but more in the style of the Indian Style Test Card, except it’s got a smiling mouse-like creature that appears to have a bullet hole through the head. (I could be wrong?) Tumblr User Leedek suggested that BLND might stand for “Bland”, as in elevator music. The song is likely in the bossa nova style (and decidedly not that bland) but nobody’s been able to figure out what the name of it is yet. It also appears to start out loud but progressively fade as the song continues.

WKIL: Thermal imaging of a man seen from the profile view. If you stay on this screen long enough, the man will change various colors, eventually looping back to the starting point. There’s also a lot of static noise going on, but underneath it one can ear the sound of a drumbeat similar to “Cemetery Drive”, along with possibly the sound of horns or someone singing. User Clarev raised the question that perhaps it has to do with announcing the arrival of a new drummer. Personally, I think it’s more about announcing their return to their more punkish roots after the huge theatrical performance that was The Black Parade. It could be both. It could be nothing. Who knows? Also, no idea what the acronym/abbreviation might mean.

KLSK: Leedek suggested that perhaps this stands for “Classic”, and it rather makes sense. The screen features what is either a radioactive symbol or one of those old-school recording reels. It’s also got “KLSK” written on one of the yellow “rays” while the other two look either muddy or bloody. Also, I feel kind of old for knowing this (though I’m only 23), but the song playing is America’s “A Horse with no Name”. It’s actually a pretty cool jam.

HRBT: Another Test Card screen! I’ve got no similarity equivalent for this one, although I did think for a while that it looked a bit like Test Card F. (If you’ve seen the British show Life on Mars, you might recognize the girl and doll in the middle.) They don’t really look that much alike, though… A couple of you suggested that this abbreviation is for “Heartbeat”, especially since it features what appears to be a lifeline barely visible in the middle of the Test Card, and the beeping sounded perhaps like a heart monitor. Others of you suggested that it probably wasn’t a heart monitor, since that would be so 2006. XD I initially thought it might’ve been Morse Code, but I quickly tossed that out when it only produced gibberish. My history of spending time in hospitals says it does sound familiar, especially since real electrocardiograms (aka, heart monitors) tend not to sound the way they do on TV. (No patient would be able to sleep if they did!) It makes me think of those machines that measure pulse, blood pressure and the body’s oxygen level. The name of it escapes me right now.

MISC: User Eric Lee pointed out that the counters go up to 59 and then restart. Does that mean it’s a clock? (There was also a comment about Halloween, but I didn’t quite understand the connection. I’m sorry. D:) There’s also the fact that the counters are counting up, at various speeds, as opposed to counting down to something. There’s also still the acronym/abbreviation of PTTP on the bottom…

Questions: - What exactly is the machine? Is it a portable television? A radio? Some futuristic alien scanner? - Why are they delighting in melting our brains? - Has anyone thought of scouring the internet to see if any side sites have popped up? I remember during The Great TBP Mystery of 2006, that in addition to the main MCR site, there was a side site for The Black Parade that was all sorts of weird for a while. (It’s since gone down completely, along with the creepy variation that was just a dead flatline around the time that The Black Parade is Dead! came out. Maybe there’s something hiding out there? I’ve got the Disqus comment app enabled, and it has OpenID, so you can probably sign in with your Tumblr. (Plus, it offers more word/character space! :D) Don’t pay too much attention to the question at the end of this long post; I just needed a way to enable answers again for those more comfortable using that. (But if you get the reference, you win an internet cookie.) ETA: I was skimming other Tumblr posts and found this take on the WKIL channel from user Wind-Addiction: WKIL - a very strange one: there’s a heatscan-looking image of the silhouette of a man’s head along with a bar of colors. the man changes colors/heats up and cools down over the course of a few minutes. someone suggested the cooling of the body means he’s dead. someone said that the channel is the name of an old pirate radio station called WeKill from the 80s. another said the man was alfred Hitchcock. idk. audio is radio static fading in and out, beeps, possibly some music in the background, which would confirm the pirate radio theory.

You can read the full post here. Why is a raven like a writing desk?

Some of this information is now outdated, but it still offers a great description of the mysterious transmitter and the different images and recordings. It’s also a perfect example of the mystery and scrutiny that defined the beginning of the DD era.

[will-you-pick-me]

with my yn unfortunately they're all getting a pet/partner, one with sharp teeth, that regrow constantly (shark teeth, specifically, im so sorry (no im not)) but oohh!! such good choices, Jessica reminds me of this lil video i watched where someone dressed up as the rat maiden for ren faire, that has her vibes if she's not working at the faire and i stand by this !!!! snake 4 ulrich is so fitting.....i can see him just going to stare at a giant python of sorts when he gets a break and just going watching the lil guy munchin Now, what horrible sensory feels do they all dislike? Be it fabrics, textures, noises, certain lights, etc, etc?

Ohhh I adore an inhuman Y/N! I hope I get to see your character sheet soon, it sounds so interesting and I'd love to meet it! (I am assuming your character also uses it/it's pronouns like you but if not please correct me!)

Really the only one who has sensory issues outside of neurotypical norms (wet socks, nails on chalkboard, etc) is Jack. I will say right now that he is fully intended to be coded for autism, HOWEVER I do not have an official diagnosis for myself, and neither do most of my autistic friends, as the USA healthcare system is a twisted evil sonofabitch and uses diagnoses as an excuse to discriminate and take away rights. I can only write things from my own experiences and what my friends have confided in me about it, so Jack IS NOT MEANT as a catch-all representation, and autism is a varied and nuanced disorder that no two individuals will ever experience the exact same way.

That out of the way, Jack hates those wool blankets that have the silk trim on them, that most people say are perfectly fine, but to him it's scratchy and irritating and the contrast between the wool and the silk trim only makes it more noticeable and hellish. TV static/electrical hums are also sometimes an issue, depending on whether or not he's already overstimulated, as that high-pitched whine is much more clear to dog ears than it is human ears. Some perfumes and colognes also bother him, because it's just a burning cloud of chemicals up his nose instead of whatever it's supposed to smell like.

[celestiachan]

So I saw some tags on a reblog of one of my fics that were like "hey how does Green know that Second has these nightmares" and uh. Now I'm writing it

Brush, brush, brush.

Spit.

He turned and wiped his mouth on a towel. It was rare for him to be sleeping this early, but after Blue and Second actually non-metaphorically killed him, he was a little tired.

Surprisingly enough, the parts where they hit him didn't hurt. They just felt...fuzzy? Kind of like TV static. He didn't feel like building anymore after that and had announced that he was going to bed. He probably needed it, anyway.

Walking to his room, he could see Second passed out on the couch. His face was against the arm of the sofa, with the rest of his body sprawled across it, a single arm dangling off the side, barely brushing against the white tiled floor. Green smiled at this. Looks like Second was just as exhausted as he was. Opening the door to his room, Green closed the curtains, tucked himself in, and drifted off to sleep.

---

"The hell..."

A light grey, pointy-eared dog had jumped onto Green's bed, and was now standing directly on top of him.

"Hey, Acorn," Green said, giving him a couple scritches. He panted very excitedly and with a lot more energy than one would expect for any diurnal creature at 1 in the morning.

The dog jumped off the bed, trotted up to the doorway, and stared at Green. "Really, dude?" Green asked. "S'like...the nightmorning. Lemme sleep."

Green began to turn away, but a heartbreaking, high-pitched whine came out from Acorn's mouth.

"...fine. But if Red finds out I'm getting you snacks past your feeding time, we're both dead meat."

Green followed the dog quite slowly, Acorn turning around every so often to make sure Green was still there. To Green's surprise, Acorn walked past the stairs to the kitchen, and up to Second's bedroom door. He sat down and stared up at Green with big, round eyes.

"Dude...Second's so asleep right now. He's probably, like, the asleepest of all of us--"

A sob.

Green turned his head in the door's direction.

He knocked lightly. "Second?"

A gasp, then silence.

"Is everything ok?"

More silence.

"I'm coming in, ok?"

He slowly turned the knob.

"Seco--"

A blanket covered all of Second except his face. His eyes were bloodshot and his irises were glowing green. A box of tissues lay sideways on his bed, tissues spilling out of it as though they were liquid. As soon as the door was opened, Acorn ran up to Second and began licking his cheek.

"H-hey--Acorn--"

Second's speech was cut off when he saw Green standing in front of him. His eyes got even wetter. He covered his face with his blanket and laid down, snuggling a plush cat close to his chest.

"...Second? It's me," Green said. "What's wrong?" he asked, slowly getting closer. As he approached, he could hear...whispering?

"It's not real it's not real it's not real it's not real it's not real it's not real it's not re--"

"Second?"

A yelp.

"It's me, Gree--"

"Go away!"

...Huh?

"I...I killed you...you're not real."

Oh.

Oh.

"S-Second...I respawned. I'm safe. Everything's gonna be ok."

But alas, Green's words did nothing, as Second's sobs began again.

"I'm sorry," he cried. "I wish I didn't kill you. I don't know what's wrong with me. I wish you were sti--"

Green smacked him.

Second touched the part that he smacked while staring at him.

"You're...alive."

"Yes, I am. Now can you please explain what happened?"

Second's eyes shifted to the side. Were they slightly less green than before?

"U-um...do you remember today when I...?"

"Yeah."

"That, but...over and over again."

Ah.

That...sounds bad.

Green sat down on the bed next to him. "S'ok," he said, pulling him into a hug. "I know you didn't mean it."

Second returned the hug, almost dragging Green downwards. Green pulled back slightly, his face inches away from Second's. "If anything like this happens again, lemme know, ok? I love you. I don't want you to be sad."

Second flushed, realising how close he was to Green. "U-um...ok."

For the rest of the night, they laid in the same bed, snuggling, but not before two sentences were spoken:

"I love you, Green."

"I love you too."

[nightshifters]

JENSEN POSTED FOR THE 4X01 ANNIVERSARY???????????????? 

EXT. A COUNTRY ROAD – DAY

Through hazy heat, DEAN walks down an empty road and approaches an abandoned gas station. He pounds on the door.

DEAN (hoarse) Hello?

INT. GAS STATION – DAY

DEAN rolls up his outer shirt over his right hand, breaks the glass on the door. Inside, he grabs a water bottle from a fridge and gulps at it, gasping. He finds a newspaper and sees the date, which reads:

Thursday, September 18th

DEAN September.

INT – GAS STATION BATHROOM - DAY

DEAN washes his face in a dingy sink, then looks up and stares at his reflection. He wears a tight black t-shirt. Frowning, he stands, pulls the shirt up to expose his chest.

FLASHBACK DEAN's chest is ripped apart by the Hellhounds (3.16)

PRESENT DEAN stares at his unblemished, unscarred chest in the dingy gas station mirror. He turns his left shoulder to the mirror and pulls up the sleeve to reveal a large, raw HANDPRINT BRAND.

INT – GAS STATION MART – DAY

DEAN pulls snacks and energy bars from the shelves, along with several bottles of water, and stashes them in a plastic bag. Stopping in front of a magazine stand, he grins slowly. On the stand is an Adult Magazine - “Busty Asian Beauties”. He picks it up, smirks, flips through it, and stuffs it in the bag too.

He goes to the counter, sets down the bag, and hits a single button on the register, snapping his fingers in satisfaction when it pops open. As he's looting the cash, the TV to his left flicks on, showing only static. He shuts it off; only to have a radio to his right turn on to white noise. Not wasting a moment, he goes to another shelf and grabs a carton of salt, opens it, and begins to pour it along the windowsill.

A high-pitched single tone begins, and DEAN clutches his left ear in pain as he continues to pour salt with his right hand. As it continues, he drops the salt and crouches to the floor, groaning in agony. The window above his head shatters as the sound continues, and he drops to the floor. He leaps to his feet to try to escape, and more glass on the ceiling and walls shatters. He looks around cautiously.

EXT. PHONE BOOTH – DAY

DEAN dials a number, and hears only an alert tone.

RECORDED VOICE We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected.

DEAN hangs up the pay phone and inserts another coin, dials another number. It rings once, then is picked up.

BOBBY (V.O.) Yeah?

DEAN Bobby?

BOBBY (V.O.) Yeah?

DEAN It's me.

BOBBY (V.O.) Who's “me”?

DEAN Dean.

A dial tone sounds. DEAN hangs up the receiver and dials again.

BOBBY (V.O.) Who is this?

DEAN Bobby, listen to me.

BOBBY (V.O.) This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya.

The dial tone again. DEAN hangs up the phone, turns. He sees an old, beat-up white car parked outside. His eyes light up; he hotwires the car and pulls away from the gas station.

INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE – DAY

To a pounding on the door, BOBBY'S hand appears to open it. On the doorstep is DEAN, looking winded and apprehensive. He smiles cautiously. BOBBY looks at him suspiciously.

DEAN Surprise.

BOBBY I, I don't...

DEAN Yeah, me neither. (He enters.) But here I am.

Behind his back, BOBBY takes a silver knife. As DEAN approaches, BOBBY lunges forward and slashes at him. DEAN grabs his arm and twists it around; BOBBY breaks the grip and backhands him in the face.

DEAN Bobby! It's me!

BOBBY My ass!

DEAN (shoves a chair between himself and BOBBY, holds his hands out) Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and... you're about the closest thing I have to a father. Bobby. It's me.

BOBBY lowers the knife, steps forward slowly. He places a hand gently on DEAN'S shoulder. Suddenly he slashes again, but DEAN quickly subdues and disarms him.

DEAN I am not a shapeshifter!

BOBBY Then you're a Revenant!

DEAN shoves BOBBY away, having taken the KNIFE. He holds it out in front of him.

DEAN Alright. If I was either, could I do this – with a silver knife?

DEAN rolls up his left sleeve, and, grimacing, slices his arm above the elbow with the knife. A line of blood appears.

BOBBY (starting to believe it) Dean?

DEAN That's what I've been trying to tell you.

BOBBY breaks, grabbing DEAN in for a tight hug. DEAN returns the hug with enthusiasm, relief on his face. They pull apart.

BOBBY It's... It's good to see you, boy.

DEAN Yeah, you too.

BOBBY But... how did you bust out?

DEAN I don't know. I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine box...

Suddenly, BOBBY splashes water in DEAN'S face. DEAN pauses, spits.

DEAN I'm not a demon either, you know.

BOBBY Sorry. Can't be too careful.

They go further into the house, DEAN wiping his face with a towel.

BOBBY But... that don't make a lick of sense.

DEAN Yeah. Yeah, you're preachin' to the choir.

BOBBY Dean. Your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop. And you've been buried four months. Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit -

DEAN I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject.

BOBBY What do you remember?

DEAN Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it. (BOBBY sits.) Sam's number's not working. He's, uh... he's not...

BOBBY Oh, he's alive. As far as I know.

DEAN Good.... Wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?

BOBBY I haven't talked to him for months.

DEAN You're kidding, you just let him go off by himself?

BOBBY He was dead set on it.

DEAN Bobby, you should've been looking after him.

BOBBY I tried. These last months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For him or me. We had to bury you.

DEAN Why did you bury me, anyway?

BOBBY I wanted you salted and burned. Usual drill. But... Sam wouldn't have it.

DEAN Well, I'm glad he won that one.

BOBBY He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow. That's about all he said.

DEAN (suspicious) What do you mean?

BOBBY He was quiet. Real quiet. And then he just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found.

DEAN Oh, damnit, Sammy.

BOBBY What?

DEAN Oh, he got me home okay. But whatever he did, it is bad mojo.

BOBBY What makes you so sure?

DEAN You should have seen the grave site. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this... this force, this presence, I don't know, but it, it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this. (He strips his jacket, pulls up his sleeve to reveal the brand.)

BOBBY (standing) What in the hell?

DEAN It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out.

BOBBY But why?

DEAN To hold up their end of the bargain.

BOBBY You think Sam made a deal.

DEAN It's what I would have done.

INT BOBBY'S HOUSE – DAY

DEAN (into the phone) Yeah, hi, I have a cell phone account with you guys, and uh, I lost my phone. I was wondering if you could turn the GPS on for me. (beat) Yeah. Name's Wedge Antilles. (beat) Social is 2-4-7-4. (beat) Thank you.

DEAN hangs up the phone and crosses to a laptop on the table.

BOBBY How'd you know he'd use that name?

DEAN You kiddin' me? What don't I know about that kid?

The laptop is open to a web browser; DEAN types in the address for ARC MOBILE.

DEAN (picking up one of the many empty liquor bottles scattered around) Hey, Bobby? What's the deal with the liquor store? What, are your parents out of town or something?

BOBBY Like I said. Last few months ain't been all that easy.

DEAN (holds his gaze for a moment) Right.

The laptop beeps; the display shows a city map with a blue arrow pointing to a star. The locator reads:

Phone Location: 263 Adams Road Pontiac, Illinois.

DEAN Sam's in Pontiac, Illinois.

BOBBY Right near where you were planted.

DEAN Right where I popped up. Hell of a coincidence, don't you think?

EXT. ASTORIA MOTEL – NIGHT

DEAN and BOBBY walk down a dingy hallway and knock on a door with the number 207 inside a red heart. The door is opened by a HOT YOUNG WOMAN with dark hair, wearing only a tank top and underwear. She looks at them expectantly.

HOT YOUNG WOMAN So where is it?

DEAN (looks at BOBBY, confused) Where's what?

HOT YOUNG WOMAN The pizza... that takes two guys to deliver?

DEAN I think we got the wrong room.

SAM steps into the light. He is grim and focused, and wears a grey t-shirt and jeans.

SAM Hey, is...

SAM stops dead when he sees DEAN. He swallows, shocked, his eyes flicking between DEAN and BOBBY.

DEAN (quietly, with much feeling) Heya, Sammy.

SAM is silent. DEAN steps into the room, ignoring the H.Y.W., who steps aside to let him in. As DEAN gets close, SAM pulls a knife and lunges at DEAN. H.Y.W. screams; DEAN blocks SAM'S attack and BOBBY pulls SAM off, gripping him around the shoulders. SAM struggles.

SAM (shouting) Who are you?!

DEAN Like you didn't do this?!

SAM Do what?!

BOBBY It's him. It's him. I've been through this already, it's really him.

SAM (stares at DEAN as the struggle slowly goes out of his body) What...

DEAN (advancing cautiously, staring at SAM) I know. I look fantastic, huh?

BOBBY lets go of SAM, who looks on the verge of tears as he steps forward and pulls DEAN into a desperate hug. They embrace for several seconds, heavy with emotion, as BOBBY looks on with tears in his eyes. SAM pushes DEAN back to arm's length. H.Y.W. is looking on, looking confused.

HOT YOUNG WOMAN So are you two like... together?

SAM (like he's just remembered that she's there) What? No. No. He's my brother.

HOT YOUNG WOMAN Uh... got it. I... I guess. Look, I should probably go.

SAM Yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Sorry.

EXT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

SAM, now wearing a white button-down, opens the door to let the H.Y.W., now dressed in an adorable blue plaid shirt, out.

HOT YOUNG WOMAN So, call me.

SAM Yeah. Yeah, sure thing, Kathy.

HOT YOUNG WOMAN:(disappointed) Kristy.

SAM Right.

She leaves, and SAM shuts the door.

INT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

SAM comes back into the room and sits down. DEAN is standing above him, arms crossed. He and BOBBY are both looking at SAM suspiciously.

DEAN So tell me, what'd it cost?

SAM (smiling) The girl? I don't pay, Dean.

DEAN That's not funny, Sam. To bring me back. What'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?

SAM You think I made a deal?

BOBBY That's exactly what we think.

SAM Well, I didn't.

DEAN (intensely) Don't lie to me.

SAM I'm not lying.

DEAN (advancing) So what now, I'm off the hook and you're on, is that it? You're some demon's bitch-boy? I didn't want to be saved like this.

SAM (standing, angrily) Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, all right?

DEAN (grabs SAM by the front of his shirt) There's no other way that this could have gone down. Now tell the truth!

SAM (breaking DEAN'S grip) I tried everything. That's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right? You were rotting in Hell for months. For months, and I couldn't stop it. So I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right? Dean, I'm sorry.

DEAN (relenting) It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize, I believe you.

BOBBY Don't get me wrong, I'm gladdened that Sam's soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question.

DEAN If he didn't pull me out, then what did?

END ACT ONE

ACT TWO

INT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

DEAN and BOBBY are seated the couch. SAM enters and passes out bottles of beer, then sits across from DEAN.

DEAN So what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?

SAM Well, once I figured out I couldn't save you, I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback.

BOBBY (accusing) All by yourself. Who do you think you are, your old man?

DEAN sees something, frowns, and crosses towards it.

SAM Uh, yeah, I'm sorry, Bobby. I should have called. I was pretty messed up.

DEAN picks up what he'd seen a pink flowered bra. He holds it up.

DEAN Oh yeah. I really feel your pain.

SAM Anyways, uh, I was checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left, booked up here.

DEAN When?

SAM Yesterday morning.

DEAN When I busted out.

BOBBY You think these demons are here 'cause of you?

SAM But why?

DEAN Well, I don't know – some badass demon drags me out and now this? It's gotta be connected somehow.

BOBBY How you feelin', anyway?

DEAN I'm a little hungry.

BOBBY No, I mean, do you feel like yourself? Anything strange, or different?

DEAN Or demonic? Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I'm me?

BOBBY Yeah. Well, listen. No demon's letting you loose out of the goodness of their hearts. They've gotta have something nasty planned.

DEAN Well, I feel fine.

SAM Okay, look, we don't know what they're planning. We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help.

BOBBY I know a psychic. A few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking.

DEAN Hell yeah, it's worth a shot.

BOBBY I'll be right back

BOBBY exits.

DEAN stands as if to leave.

SAM Hey, wait. (stands) You probably want this back.

SAM reaches into his collar and pulls out a cord. It is DEAN'S AMULET. He places it in DEAN'S hand. DEAN looks at it, touched.

DEAN Thanks.

SAM Yeah, don't mention it. (DEAN puts the AMULET on) Hey Dean, what was it like?

DEAN What, Hell? I don't know, I, I must have blacked it out. I don't remember a damn thing.

SAM (nodding) Well, thank God for that.

DEAN Yeah.

INT. MOTEL BATHROOM – NIGHT

DEAN flicks on the light and stares at himself in the mirror. He runs a hand over his chin and leans forward on the sink.

FLASHBACK Closeup of DEAN'S bloody, terrified face, with screams and eerie sounds.

PRESENT DEAN pulls back from the mirror, blinking in confusion.

EXT. MOTEL PARKING LOT – NIGHT

BOBBY leads the boys down a set of steps.

BOBBY She's about four hours down the Interstate. Try to keep up.

BOBBY gets in his car.

SAM I assume you'll want to drive.

SAM pulls the keys out of his right pocket and tosses them at DEAN, who catches them easily.

DEAN (chuckling) Oh, I almost forgot! (he approaches the IMPALA and runs a hand along it lovingly.) Hey, sweetheart, did you miss me?

DEAN gets in the driver's side, settles in. He sees an iPod plugged into the stereo, pauses, and gives it a dirty look. SAM gets into the passenger's seat, smiling. DEAN glares at him.

DEAN What the hell is that?

SAM That's an iPod jack.

DEAN You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up.

SAM Dean, I thought it was my car.

DEAN sneers, sighs, and turns the key in the ignition. "Vision" by Jason Manns begins to play. DEAN rolls his eyes and glares at SAM again, looking pained.

DEAN Really?

SAM shrugs innocently. DEAN rips the iPod out of the jack and tosses it in the back seat.

EXT. TWO-LANE BLACKTOP – NIGHT

DEAN and SAM are back in their familiar places, having a heart-to-heart in the IMPALA on a dark road.

DEAN There's still one thing that's bothering me.

SAM Yeah?

DEAN Yeah, the night that I bit it. Or... got bit. (he chuckles at his own wit) How'd you make it out? I thought Lilith was going to kill you.

SAM Well, she tried. She couldn't.

DEAN What do you mean, she couldn't?

SAM She fired this, like, burning light at me, and... didn't leave a scratch. Like I was immune or something.

DEAN Immune?

SAM Yeah. I don't know who was more surprised, her or me. She left pretty fast after that.

DEAN Huh. What about Ruby, where is she?

SAM Dead. For now.

DEAN (bites his lip, like he's not sure he wants to ask) So you've been using your, uh, freaky ESP stuff?

SAM No.

DEAN You sure about that? Well, I mean, now that you've got... immunity, whatever the hell that is... just wondering what other kind of weirdo crap you've got going on.

SAM Nothing, Dean. Look, you didn't want me to go down that road, so I didn't go down that road. It was practically your dying wish.

DEAN Yeah, well, let's keep it that way.

SAM broods.

EXT. PAMELA'S HOUSE – DAY

They knocks on the door, and PAMELA opens it. She is in her thirties, strong and beautiful with a ready smile.

PAMELA Bobby!

She grabs him into a hug, lifting him briefly off the ground. SAM and DEAN share a look.

BOBBY You're a sight for sore eyes.

PAMELA steps back and looks SAM and DEAN up and down appraisingly.

PAMELA So, these the boys?

BOBBY Sam, Dean. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state.

DEAN (flirting, of course) Hey.

SAM (a little awkwardly) Hi.

PAMELA Mmm-mmm-mmm. Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual.

DEAN If you say so.

PAMELA Come on in.

INT. PAMELA'S HOUSE – DAY

PAMELA ushers them in, first BOBBY, then DEAN, then SAM, and shuts the door behind them.

BOBBY So, you hear anything?

PAMELA Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why.

BOBBY So what's next?

PAMELA A séance, I think. See if we can see who did the deed.

BOBBY You're not gonna... summon the damn thing here.

PAMELA No. I just want to get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without the crystal.

DEAN I'm game.

INT. SEANCE ROOM – DAY

PAMELA spreads a black tablecloth covered in symbols over a small table. SAM and DEAN look at it warily; DEAN cocks his head as PAMELA squats in front of a cabinet, revealing a scrawled tattoo across her lower back that reads:

Jesse Forever

DEAN Who's Jesse?

PAMELA (laughs) Well, it wasn't forever.

DEAN His loss.

PAMELA stands with several pillar candles in her hands, stops in front of DEAN with a smirk.

PAMELA Might be your gain.

As she passes by, DEAN turns to SAM and lowers his voice.

DEAN Dude, I am so in.

SAM Yeah, she's gonna eat you alive.

DEAN Hey, I just got out of jail. Bring it.

PAMELA (passing by again, to SAM with a wink) You're invited too, grumpy.

DEAN You are NOT invited.

LATER PAMELA, BOBBY, SAM, and DEAN are seated around the small table, which now has six lighted candles in the center.

PAMELA Right. Take each other's hands. (they do) And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched.

PAMELA slides her hand along DEAN'S inner thigh. He jumps.

DEAN Whoa. Well, he didn't touch me there.

PAMELA My mistake.

DEAN looks around, nervous, then takes off his outer shirt, pulls up his left t-shirt sleeve to reveal the BRAND. SAM stares at it, shocked, looks at BOBBY. PAMELA lays her hand on the BRAND.

PAMELA Okay. (All four close their eyes as PAMELA begins to chant) I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. (a television flicks on to static; she continues) I invoke, conjure, and command... Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy.

DEAN Castiel?

PAMELA Its name. It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back. (white noise and static continues, and the table begins to shake) I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face.

BOBBY (as the white noise and rattling become more violent) Maybe we should stop.

PAMELA I almost got it. I command you, show me your face! Show me your face now!

Suddenly the candles flare up several feet in the air and PAMELA begins to scream. Her eyes fly open and are filled with a white-hot flame. She collapses; the rattling, white noise, and flames die out.

BOBBY (catching her and lowering her to the floor) Call 9-1-1!

SAM scrambles out of his chair and into the next room. DEAN crouches over PAMELA and BOBBY. She is conscious, but bleeding and burned. Her eyelids fly open to reveal black, empty sockets. She sobs.

PAMELA I can't see! I can't see! Oh god!

In the next room we can hear SAM calling for an ambulance.

END ACT TWO

ACT THREE

INT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER – DAY

DEAN is sitting at a table giving his order to a WAITRESS.

WAITRESS Be up in a jiff.

As she leaves, SAM enters, talking on his cell phone.

SAM (into the phone) You bet. (he sits)

DEAN What'd Bobby say?

SAM Pam's stable. And out of I.C.U.

DEAN And blind, because of us.

SAM And we still have no clue who we're dealing with.

DEAN That's not entirely true.

SAM No?

DEAN We got a name. Castiel, or whatever. With the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him, bring him right to us.

SAM You're crazy. Absolutely not.

DEAN We'll work him over. I mean, after what he did?

SAM Pam took a peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you want to have a face to face?

DEAN You got a better idea?

SAM Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. I followed some demons to town, right?

DEAN Okay.

SAM So, we go find them. Someone's gotta know something about something.

The WAITRESS reappears with two plates of pie. She sets them on the table.

SAM Thanks.

The WAITRESS then plops down in a chair at the end of the table. DEAN looks at her, smirking.

DEAN You angling for a tip?

WAITRESS I'm sorry. Thought you were looking for us.

Her eyes go demon-black for a moment; a UNIFORMED MAN by the counter and a COOK behind the counter also show the demon-black; the UNIFORMED MAN goes to the door, locks it, and stands in front of it.

DEMON WAITRESS (eyes going back to normal) Dean. To hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck.

DEAN That's me.

DEMON WAITRESS So you get to just stroll out of the pit, huh? Tell me. What makes you so special?

DEAN I like to think it's because of my perky nipples. I don't know. Wasn't my doing, I don't know who pulled me out.

DEMON WAITRESS Right. You don't.

DEAN No. I don't.

DEMON WAITRESS Lying's a sin, you know.

DEAN I'm not lying. But I'd like to find out, so if you wouldn't mind enlightening me, Flo...

DEMON WAITRESS Mind your tone with me, boy. I'll drag you back to hell myself.

SAM, who has been staring daggers at her through this exchange, shifts as if to attack. DEAN holds a hand up and SAM stops, settles back into his seat.

DEAN No, you won't.

DEMON WAITRESS No?

DEAN No. Because if you were you would have done it already. Fact is, you don't know who cut me loose. And you're just as spooked as we are. And you're looking for answers. Well, maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or, uh, Godzilla. Or some big bad boss demon. I'm guessing at your pay grade that they don't tell you squat. Because whoever it was, they want me out. And they're a lot stronger than you. So go ahead. Send me back. But don't come crawling to me when they show up on your front doorstep with some Vaseline and a fire hose.

DEMON WAITRESS I'm going to reach down your throat and rip out your lungs.

DEAN leans forward, a challenge in his eyes. He throws a right hook at her, which she takes. He throws another. She still does nothing but glare at them, looking more and more nervous.

DEAN That's what I thought. Let's go, Sam.

They stand, and the demon sits there, fuming. DEAN pulls a roll of cash out of his pocket and carefully peels off a ten dollar bill. He holds it up and drops it on the table like an insult.

DEAN For the pie.

EXT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER – DAY

SAM and DEAN stalk out of the diner and across the street, tense and quick.

DEAN Holy crap, that was close.

SAM We're not just going to leave them in there, are we, Dean?

DEAN Well yeah, there's three of them, probably more, and we've only got one knife between us.

SAM I've been killing a lot more demons than that lately.

DEAN Not anymore – the smarter brother's back in town.

SAM Dean, we've got to take 'em. They are dangerous.

DEAN They're scared. Okay? Scared of whatever had the juice to yank me out. We're dealing with a bad mofo here. One job at a time.

INT. ASTORIA MOTEL – NIGHT

DEAN is dozing on the couch with a large book open in his lap. SAM sneaks out, checking to make sure DEAN doesn't wake.

EXT. ASTORIA MOTEL – NIGHT

SAM drives away in the IMPALA.

INT. ASTORIA MOTEL – NIGHT

As DEAN dozes, the television flicks on to the now-familiar static, and the radio starts whining as well. It wakes DEAN, who rubs the sleep out of his eyes and rolls quickly to grab a SHOTGUN lying by the bed. He looks around cautiously, glances at SAM'S bed and sees that it is empty. He grimaces. The painfully high-pitched noise begins again, and he grabs his right ear, keeping the weapon up in his left hand. A mirror on the ceiling shatters and rains broken glass down on him. He crumples to the ground, clutching both ears as all the glass in the room shatters explosively. He screams.

BOBBY bursts into the room as more glass shatters.

BOBBY Dean!

END ACT THREE

ACT FOUR

EXT. ROAD – NIGHT

BOBBY drives his car as DEAN, in the passenger's seat, wipes blood from his face.

BOBBY How you doin', kid?

DEAN Aside from the church bells ringing in my head, peachy.

DEAN pulls out his cell phone and dials a number.

EXT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER – NIGHT

SAM is in the IMPALA, staking out the diner full of demons. His cell phone rings; he answers it.

SAM (PHONE) Hey.

DEAN (PHONE) What are you doing?

SAM Couldn't sleep, went to get a burger.

DEAN In my car?

SAM Force of habit, sorry. What are you doing up?

DEAN Well, uh, Bobby's back. We're going to grab a beer. (on BOBBY'S shocked look, DEAN holds up a finger.)

SAM All right, well, uh, spill some for me, huh?

DEAN Done. Catch you later. (They hang up.)

BOBBY Why the hell didn't you tell him?

DEAN Because he just tried to stop us.

BOBBY From what?

DEAN Summoning this thing. (BOBBY looks at him in shock. Again.) It's time we faced it head-on.

BOBBY You can't be serious!

DEAN As a heart attack. It's high noon, baby.

BOBBY Well, we don't know what it is. It could be a demon, it could be anything.

DEAN That's why we've got to be ready for anything. (he pulls out RUBY'S DEMON-KILLING KNIFE) We've got the big-time magic knife, you've got an arsenal in the trunk...

BOBBY This is a bad idea.

DEAN Yeah, I couldn't agree more, but what other choice do we have?

BOBBY We could choose life.

DEAN Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me. That much we know, right? I've got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make our stand.

BOBBY Dean, we could use Sam on this.

DEAN Nah, he's better off where he is.

INT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER – NIGHT

SAM sneaks into the darkened diner and slips his lock-picking tools into his shirt pocket. A song is playing on the jukebox. SAM sneaks in quietly, sees the COOK from earlier face-down on the floor, his hands bloody. SAM crouches and turns the man over; he is dead, his eyes burned out and drying blood caked on his cheeks. SAM stands.

A figure tackles him from behind – it is the DEMON WAITRESS. They trade blows for a few moments until SAM shoves her away. She too has empty, burned out eye sockets and blood trickling down her face. She looks both terrifying and terrified.

SAM Your eyes.

DEMON WAITRESS I can still smell your soul a mile away.

SAM It was here. You saw it.

DEMON WAITRESS (sobbing) I saw it.

SAM What was it?

DEMON WAITRESS It's the end. We're dead. We're all dead.

SAM (insisting) What did you see?

DEMON WAITRESS Go to hell.

SAM Funny. I was going to say the same thing to you.

SAM steps back, plants his feet, and shuts his eyes in concentration. He extends his right hand towards the demon. She heaves and begins to vomit black smoke into her hand; in seconds, the WAITRESS has collapsed to the floor as the DEMON is sucked down into the Pit. SAM opens his eyes and crosses to the woman on the floor. He checks her pulse, sighs in disappointment.

SAM Damn it.

The kitchen door opens and a woman comes out. He looks up, apparently not surprised to see her. It is the HOT YOUNG WOMAN from ACT ONE.

HOT YOUNG WOMAN (henceforth called RUBY) Getting pretty slick there, Sam. Better all the time.

SAM stands and they share a smoldering look. He looks down at the corpse at his feet, his face falling.

SAM What the hell is going on around here, Ruby?

RUBY I wish I knew.

SAM We were thinking some high level demon pulled Dean out.

RUBY No way. Sam, human souls don't just walk out of Hell and back into their bodies easy. The sky bleeds, the ground quakes. It's cosmic. No demon can swing that. Not Lilith, not anybody.

SAM Then what can?

RUBY Nothing I've ever seen before.

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

BOBBY draws a symbol with white spray paint on the cement floor. As he stands, we see that the entire floor, walls, and ceiling of the empty rectangular warehouse are covered in similar images.

DEAN (at a table, setting up equipment) That's a hell of an art project you've got going there.

BOBBY Traps and talismans from every faith on the globe. How you doin?

DEAN Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife. I mean, we're pretty much set to catch and kill anything I've ever heard of.

BOBBY This is still a bad idea.

DEAN Yeah, Bobby, I heard you the first ten times. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?

BOBBY nods reluctantly. He goes over to another desk, takes a pinch of some powder from a bowl, and sprinkles it into a larger bowl, which begins to smoke. He chants in Latin.

INT. JOHHNY MAC'S DINER – NIGHT

RUBY and SAM are seated across from each other at a small table.

RUBY So. Million dollar question, are you going to tell Dean about what we're doing?

SAM Yeah, I just gotta figure out the right way to say it. (RUBY gives him a look) Look, I just need time, okay? That's all.

RUBY Sam, he's going to find out, and if it's not from you he's going to be pissed.

SAM He's going to be pissed anyway. I mean, he's so hardheaded about this psychic stuff he'll just try and stop me.

RUBY Look. Maybe I'll just take a step back for a while.

SAM Ruby, you...

RUBY I mean, I'm not exactly in your brother's fanclub. But he is your brother, and I'm not going to come between you.

SAM I don't know if what I'm doing is right. Hell, I don't even know if I trust you.

RUBY Thanks.

SAM But what I do know is that I'm saving people. And stopping demons. And that feels good. I want to keep going.

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

DEAN and BOBBY are seated on tables, swinging their legs and looking bored.

DEAN You sure you did the ritual right? (BOBBY gives him a look) Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?

As if on cue, a loud rattling shakes the roof. DEAN and BOBBY arm themselves with shotguns and take positions at the far end of the warehouse.

DEAN Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind.

The door bursts open and a handsome man in a business suit and trenchcoat stalks in CASTIEL.

The light bulbs above his head shatter in a shower of sparks as he passes them. As he approaches, DEAN and BOBBY both open fire, but the shots do not even slow him down. Dean takes the MAGIC KNIFE as CASTIEL gets close.

DEAN Who are you?

CASTIEL I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.

DEAN Yeah. Thanks for that.

DEAN rears back and plunges the MAGIC KNIFE into CASTIEL'S chest and hits heart without any effects. CASTIEL looks down, unconcerned, and pulls it out, drops it to the floor. Behind him, BOBBY attacks; without looking, CASTIEL grabs BOBBY'S weapon and uses it to swing him around. CASTIEL touches BOBBY on the forehead with fingertips and BOBBY crumples to the ground.

CASTIEL We need to talk, Dean. Alone.

END ACT FOUR

ACT FIVE

DEAN crouches over BOBBY, checking his pulse. He glares at CASTIEL.

CASTIEL Your friend's alive.

DEAN Who are you?

CASTIEL Castiel.

DEAN Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?

CASTIEL I'm an Angel of the Lord.

DEAN Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing.

CASTIEL This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.

Lightning flashes, and on CASTIEL'S back great shadowy wings appear, stretching off into the distance. The light goes out and the image disappears.

DEAN Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes.

CASTIEL I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that.

DEAN You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking? (CASTIEL nods.) Buddy, next time, lower the volume.

CASTIEL That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong.

DEAN And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?

CASTIEL This? This is... a vessel.

DEAN You're possessing some poor bastard?

CASTIEL He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this.

DEAN Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?

CASTIEL (frowning) I told you.

DEAN Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?

CASTIEL Good things do happen, Dean.

DEAN Not in my experience.

CASTIEL What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?

DEAN Why'd you do it?

CASTIEL Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.

[crazyfreckledginger]

Batboys x Batsis!Reader - “Big Surprise”

After having time off from the military, you decide to come back to Gotham but decide to mess with your brothers as an over the top dramatic entrance filled with a prank, however, you didn’t expect to meet the two new additions to the family, Tim and Damian.

Requested by anon and on Wattpad: “Is possible for me to request a basis!reader that gets back from the military after a few years and Tim and Damian meet her for the first time?”

“I don't know if you do requests but can you do one where the reader is the batboys oldest and they were expecting her a week in advance but she came a week earlier so she messes with them with the help of Bruce but the boys doesn't know that she's back”

A/N: Hope you like it!

~Tell me when you’re taking your flight here so I can ask Alfred to pick you up~

The phone buzzed on her dashboard. The music was louder than the impact the device made on the plastic covering, the girl couldn’t hear it. Her fingertips tapped on the steering wheel with the rhythm of the music as her eyes watched the road in front of her. Her hand grasped the indicator and she spinned the wheel to get onto the parking lot. 

(Y/N) cleared all the trash that was in the car before making sure it smelled clean before patting the car.

“I’ll miss you buddy, thanks for being incredibly helpful for the past few years,” she stood up and closed the door, locking it before walking towards the receptionist.

****

After returning the rented car, she grasped her bags and her phone, seeing the little light flash on the top of it to signal a notification. Pressing the button, the screen lit up and she read her father’s message, quickly replying with a ‘will do’. 

Pressing her phone in her pocket, she pulled her bag back onto her shoulder before searching for the terminal she was going to depart in.

****

“Alfred, (Y/N) is due to return in four hours, please pick her up at the airport,” Bruce entered his office.

“Of course Master Bruce,” he nodded, cleaning the surfaces of the kitchen, “should I assemble the other Masters for her return?” 

“No, she said she wanted to surprise them,” Bruce walked out of his office with a small briefcase, “I’m heading out for now,” 

“Good luck Master Bruce,” he nodded.

“Thank you Alfred, I should be back in a few hours,” 

****

“Oh my gosh, Alfred, it’s so good to see you again!” the girl raced to him and engulfed him in a big hug. Her heart was still beating widely in anticipation and she couldn’t contain the grin plastered on her face as the butler chuckled when he overcame his surprise.

“It’s good to have you back Miss (Y/N),” he stated warmly, before they parted from the hug and she helped him put her bags in the boot. 

“I heard from Master Bruce that you wanted to play a ‘prank’ on your brothers,” his eyes glanced at the rear view mirror to perceive her staring at the scenery that was parading in front of her. Her attention darted towards him.

“Yes, I have a few plans for them!” she chuckled.

****

Dick entered the Manor, offering a small ‘I’m back’ and pacing to the kitchen, searching for some much needed cereal.

His hand grasped the milk box, pulling it out and closing the fridge before meandering back to his sacred bowl of cereal and pouring it lightly and whistling a tune.

The static noise on a nearby device nearly made him jump. Gulping down his cereal, he placed the half full bowl back on the counter and pacing towards the source of the sound.

The TV was on, and what kind of put him on edge was the fact that it was on a static station, it wasn’t that old, it didn’t even more like that, how could it be stuck between two channels? How could it make that most annoying sound and hurt any eye that landed on the screen? 

Dick scurried to it, turning it off before it gave him a headache.

Small, pitty patter footsteps grew louder behind him and he whisked towards the source of the sound with a small screech.

Nothing.

“What the-” his heart nearly sunk out of his chest as he heard the sound of small girly giggle, one that he was too far off anyone he knew would have it. 

“You like fruit loops too, Dicky bird?” the high pitched chuckle made him scream with such a high pitch that it could easily be thought to be coming from the innocent child. He didn’t think twice about leaving his dignity he was keeping before rushing out of the Manor and driving far far away. 

Score.

******

“You’re telling me there is a ghost in this place?” Jason tried to suppress his laughter.

“Is this conversation really necessary?” Damian grumbled as he helped Bruce search for the target on the computer along with his father.

“I told you, you would be chickening out for the new Annabelle movie,” Tim snorted. 

“I’m serious,” Dick glared, “and- okay, maybe, I had flashbacks from the movie which is why I walked away-”

“Ran away like a wet duck,” Jason laughed. Dick sighed, knowing this story would come biting back in his ass.

“But I guarantee you, I didn’t make up what I heard.” 

“You know what this is?” Red Hood asked, cleaning his guns. Nightwing rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips in disbelief, “this supernatural being you’re talking about, much be the g-g-g-ghost of my will to live,” 

“Jason-”

“Jesus,” The eldest shook his head, “will you ever stop using every single opportunity to make a death joke?”

“What? Of course not!” The man in question raised his hands up in defeat. Everyone froze when a soft, only-familiar-to-Dick giggle pinched at their ears. 

“I thought it was funny,” the voice admitted innocently. Dick nearly went pale as he grasped for the closest robin -- who happen to be Tim who just stood, mouth agape yet scanning for the source of the voice.

“Who’s there?” Damian gripped his weapon, also searching for who was in there, convinced it was a person and not what Dick was making up. 

A sudden whisper filled the room, audibly but not distinguishable. 

Bruce looked back, eyebrows knit together in confusion and annoyance as Jason was cautious above anything else, safety off his guns and ready to use them.

“Come out coward!” Tim expressed in a shaky voice. 

“Nice going Tim,” Jason retorted sarcastically.

“(Y/N), we’re on a mission, do you mind ending your prank now?” Bruce sighed. 

“(Y-Y/N)?” Jason and Dick spluttered at the same time.

The figure leaped down from the small ledge of the Batcave and landed skillfully on her feet.

“Hey guys,” she grinned.

“(Y/N)!” Dick and Jason yelled, rushing to her and giving her a tight hug.

“Aww,” she hugged them back tightly, “I missed you guys so much,” she nuzzled Dick’s shoulder as Jason placed his cheek against hers. 

“It’s been way way too long,” The second oldest hugged a little tighter. 

Damian and Tim stood there awkwardly, not knowing who this person was. 

“This was you all along??” Dick asked after pulling away from the hug.

“Of course it was, I couldn’t pass up scaring you half to death, although I really wanted to hug you guys again,” she chuckled through happy tears.

“Oh, baby sister,” Dick grasped her cheeks and pulled her against his chest for another hug.

“(Y/N),” Bruce’s low voice tore the three eldest of his family apart, “this is Tim, and Damian,” his hand gestured to the two shorter people in the room.

“I’m so sorry for being rude, it’s really nice to meet you,” she moved closer to them and gave them a smile.

“You are Bruce’s daughter?” 

“No, he adopted me when I was just a few months younger than Jason, then I spent my years in the military,” she explained.

“Where did you serve?” Tim inquired.

“I served in-”

“Great introduction, now if you don’t mind, I’d like to catch up and know what my sister is doing here a week before schedule -- and especially what she used to scare Dick half to death,” Jason grasped the girl’s arm and started walking away.

“Hey- I wasn’t scared!” 

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[myinconnelly1]

A Life Unlived Ch. 3: Life Goes On Pt. 1

Masterlist / Previous

Word Count: 1,719

A/N: Season 4! Hope you all are still enjoying this total self aggrandizement 

Warnings: no warnings

May 2008

“Sam?”  Myin asked as Sam stood at the doorway to her new home.  “What are you doing here?  I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Who is it, Mommy?”  Dani called from the living room where she was playing with Penny.

“I need a place to stay.  I’m sorry it’s been so long.”  Sam said.  Life had taken a hard toll on the tall man, and Myin reached out to caress his cheek.  “Please.”

“Of course.”  Myin stepped back to let him in, pulling her hand away.

“Sam!!!” Dani shrieked as she came running to the front door.

“Hey, Dani!”  Sam responded lifting her and giving her a slight twirl in the air.

“I don’t like that!  Please put me down.”  Dani squealed in delight despite her words.

“Okay.”  He gave her a quick squeeze then set her down.

“Penny, come see Sam!”  Dani giggled.  The other little girl came walking unsteadily down the hallway and stared wide-eyed at the big man.

“Hi,”  She murmured.

“Wow, she’s gotten so big,”  Sam said bending down to pick her up, but being left with his arms outstretched as she ran off.

“Penny doesn’t like anyone to pick her up,”  Dani said laughing at the look on Sam’s face.

“Come on in Sam.  Girls get your stuffed animals for a nap.”  Myin called to her daughters.

“Aw, but Sam just got here.”  Dani protested in what sounded like a regular occurrence.

“And if your good and take a nap, he might still be here when you wake up.”  Myin sighed taking the girls to their beds for sleep.

“I like the new place,”  Sam said when Myin came out of the girls’ room.  “How long have you been here?”

“I put the old place up a week after you and Dean left.  I didn’t want to be there anymore.”  Myin put on a brave face as she faced her memories.  “This place is smaller but that just makes it easier to clean.”

Sam nodded looking around the place as Myin sat next to him.

“What’s going on, Sam?  You don’t call or text for a year and suddenly your find my new address and show up here needing a place to stay?”  Myin looked at him seriously.

“Dean died last week.”  Sam’s shoulders stooped as he said the thing that he had been dreading for a while now.

“Oh, Sam.”  Myin scooted across the couch to wrap an arm around him.  “Your line of work is dangerous, I’m not gonna ask how.”

“No, it wasn’t like that.  He sold his soul.  He’s in hell, and I have to save him.  He died to save me.”  The words tumbled out of his mouth for the first time in their entirety.

“If you have to save him, why are you here?  Are you in danger?”  Myin asked cautiously.

“Actually, I was hoping that you would be able to help.  I’ve been doing research, and I’m willing to do anything.  You were always good at preparing for a test.”  Sam shrugged.

“Of course,”  Myin said again, giving him a light kiss on the cheek.  

It was weeks before either Sam or Myin came up with the first thing to try.  They had found a comfortable place, despite the grief of their situation.  In Myin’s two-bedroom home, they shared a bed out of basic necessity, and Penny and Dani were accepting of the situation in the way only children can be.

“This one requires a witch,”  Myin said hesitantly.  “You don’t have a witch.”

“Well,”  Sam gestured to her.  “Maybe your dad let something that could be helpful, and you just don’t know it?”

“I don’t know, Sam.  Magic always has a price.  Even if you don’t know what it is.  It’s not safe.”

“We have to try,”  Sam said desperately.

“I’ll look.  But no promises.”  She brushed his hair out of his face, then kissed his lips.  

September 2008

“Bobby?”  Myin gaped as she walked away from the nurses' station in the ICU.

“Myin what are you doing here?”  The old hunter ended his call and put his phone away.

“I work here, what about you?  Do you know someone here?”  She asked looking around at the various rooms.

“Yeah my friend is here, bad accident burned her eyes.”  He muttered looking around rather paranoid.

“Come on, you can come tell me about it in my office.”  She said, then led the way to the accounts receivable department where her office was.  “Is Sam with you?”  Myin asked.

“No, I thought he was staying with you?”  Bobby asked as Myin closed the door and motioned for a seat for him to sit in.

“Not for a while,”  She said looking away for a moment.  “Is there anything I can do to help your friend?”

“No she’s a pretty normal person, just leave my name out of it,”  Bobby shooed her question away.  “Where are your girls?”

“With grandma.  They all moved nearby after everything that happened.  She understands how hard everything has been between Jay and Sam.  Dani and Penny spend a lot of time with her, while I work.”  Myin sighed at the end recomposing herself.

“You know, now that I think about it,”  Bobby looked at her with a furrowed brow.  “Your daddy was a witch of sorts wasn’t he?”  Myin looked at him eyes wide.

“I don’t do that anymore, Bobby.  Not after last time.”  She crossed her arms in front of her.

“I don’t need you to cast anything.  Maybe you can come by the Astoria Motel.  We could use some out of the box thinking,”  bobby finished rubbing his beard.

“We?”  she asked noticing the word, much to Bobby’s displeasure.

“Me and Sam, he is at the motel, I know things are hard between you too, but we are really out of our depths.  We held a Séance and some monster burned my friend's eyes out of her head.”  He whispered.

“Fine, I’ll be there when I get off work.”

Myin stood outside the room adjusting her hair nervously.  She hadn’t seen the Impala or Bobby’s beater in the parking lot, bit knocked on the door regardless.

“Myin?”  Green eyes stared at her from beyond a cracked open door.  The chain was still attached and she could see the gun the man was holding inside the room.  She held her hands up.

“Dean?  Bobby asked me to come by,”  She whispered, unsure.  He closed the door and she heard the chain rattle before it reopened and he let her in.  “You’re alive?”  She muttered raising her hand to press it against his chest half expecting it to pass through him.

“Yeah, what are you doing here, I thought you were in Florida.”  He placed his hand over hers and pulled it from his chest.

“Needed a change of scenery.”  She was just starring at him as if she was in shock.

“I half expected you to be with Sam when we found him earlier,”  Dean chuckled as he let go of her hand finally.  “How are-”  He cut off raising his gun up at the door again as a high pitched ringing sounded and static played on the TV.  They covered their ears trying to block out the noise to no avail.  The mirror on the ceiling cracked as Dean dropped his shotgun and they both fell to their knees.

“What is that?!”  Myin shouted trying to be louder than the whine.

“Cover your head!”  Dean shouted as the windows blew out and glass sprayed them from the side.  He grabbed and arm around her middle and pulled her towards the door.  He fell mostly on top of her as the cracked glass on the ceiling fell where the had been standing a moment before.

The door to the motel busted open and Bobby was there calling for Dean as more glass threatened to fall.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell him?”  Bobby asked when they were all in Bobby’s beater and Dean has lied to Sam on the phone.

“He’d try and stop us.”

“From what?  Bobby asked

“From summoning it,”  Dean responded.  Myin stared wide-eyed at Dean.  This was not what she had signed up for.  “It’s time we face it head-on.”

“No, wait.  I just got clear of all the shit in Florida.  You will not put me of my kids in danger again.  Pull over and let me out I’ll walk.”  Myin said throwing her hands out in front of her.

“You were there with me when it attacked, you’re already a target.  You and your family are safest if we deal with this thing.”  Dean said firmly.

“I hate this plan,”  Myin muttered.

“It’s high noon baby.”  Dean grinned.  Bobby and Myin rolled their eyes.  “We got the knife, you got an arsenal in the back, and we have a witch.”

“This is a bad idea,”  Bobby agreed with Myin.  “We could use Sam for this.”

“He’s better off where he is.”  Dean murmured.

“Maybe you did the spell wrong,”  Dean offered after the group had sat in the warehouse quietly for what felt like forever.

The structure started to shake as thunder rumbled and crashed outside.

“What did you say this thing was again?”  Myin asked raising her rifle.

“I didn’t,”  Dean muttered as the doors to the building were flung open.  

A man in a trench coat walked towards them, and Dean and Bobby began firing rounds at him.  Myin gasped as she saw him, entranced by something about him, and dropped her gun.  The chambered round went off on impact and ricochet off the metal walls.

“Myin, watch where shooting!”  Dean shouted before he saw the look of aw on her face.  “Son of a bitch!”  Dean shouted.  The man stood in front of Dean and Dean stabbed him with the demon blade.

The angel removed the blade then touched Bobby’s forehead and the older man dropped to the ground.

“Bobby!”  Dean dropped to the ground to check on the old man, as the blue-eyed stranger looked at Myin.

“You’re friend is fine.”  He said.  A tear fell down Myin’s cheek as she stared at him.

“Who are you?”  Dean asked.

“Castiel,”  The stranger responded and scooped Myin up to sit here by the workbench.  “We have work to do.”

@waywardbaby​ @destielhoneybee​ @snffbeebee​ @deangirl7695​ @spnbaby-67​ @maddiepants​ @tabrown2021​ @ladywinchester1967​ @woodworthti666​ @miraclesoflove​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @emilyshurley​ @akshi8278​ @mannls​ @wendibird​ @bobasheebaby​ @flamencodiva​ @theoneandonlymelol​ @chelsea072498​ @donnaintx​ @justsomedreaming​ @supernaturalenchanted​ @kalesrebellion​ @prettydeaneyes​​ @emoryhemsworth​ @yourdommelb​

[deanwinchestermydaddy]

TO SEE YOU AGAIN (DEAN WINCHESTER STORY) PART. 20

Y/n's POV:

These past four months have been the hardest for me and Sam. I try to help him but he blamed himself and I did the same with myself. Sam would disappear for days then come back. I couldn't sleep because when I closed my eyes I was able to see or more imagined what Dean was going through and I felt the same pain, how I felt my body being torn apart then put back together. The first time that I had those nightmares I had Sam to comfort me but it wasn't the same he wasn't Dean.

As the time went by I would disappear for weeks saying that I was going to the bar and on hunts to think and free my mind, but I wasn't. I drove to a different crossroads in town then out of town to make a deal, but none of the demons want to make a deal with me to bring Dean back. It was driving me crazy.

"you know Dean wouldn't like you to make a deal Y/n? He made me promise that I was going to protect you and stopped you from doing that" he said as he sat down in front of me, "yeah Sam I know" I said lying to him, "I will go to take a nap then I will bring us food is that alright?" I said and he nodded and gave me a small smile that I returned. I went to my room and did something that I haven't done in years I prayed. I got on my knees and cross myself, "look, I know that I am not one of your favorites. I don't even know if you are real or not, but once again I just want to ask you for a miracle to bring Dean back, he deserves something better than what he has got. So, God, I ask you for a miracle to bring Dean back safe, that's all I ask for. Please and Thank you" I said and got up and grabbed the keys of my car to go to town, "hey Y/n I thought you said you were gonna take a nap?" Sam said as he saw me, "Not anymore Sam. You want the usual?" I asked and he nodded, "be careful alright," he said giving me another smile, "will do Sam," I said before I walked out.

~IN TOWN~

I was walking around not really looking, having other thoughts on my mind which were really only about Dean. I bump or more like slammed into someone and I fall on my butt, "I'm so sorry Miss" the guy said as he turns around to help me up, "no, it was my fault.  So I am sorry for slamming into you Mister" I said as I look up and saw that he was wearing a black dress shirt, "Don't call me Mister you make me feel old" he said as he looked down and smile at me and I smile at him back, "thank you... uh I guess young fella for picking me up even when it was my fault" I said and he laughs at what I said and I saw those big blue eyes that twinkle, "no problem, young gal and have a good night" he said as he started to walk away and I just stood there looking at him walk away, "good night to you too!" I said loud and he turns and waves, "may God bless you," he said and it made me froze, then I continue to go and get the food for me and Sam. After that day I left for Iowa to try again to make a deal.

Dean's POV:

"Help! Help! Help!" I said as I was pounding on the wood that was above my head as dirt falls on my face and I continue to pound.

I was in the middle of a grassy field, a simple wooden cross is planted as I crawl my way out of the ground, groaning and gasping. I lie on my back, panting. I stand looks around in the glaring sunlight.

I walked until I saw an abandoned Gas Station and I entered, "Hello?" I say but no one answers, so I enter and took some water to drink I was really thirsty. I started to get more water to take and I see a Newspaper and it says that is Thursday, September 18th. I cleaned myself and started to look on my body and see that nothing that happened to me in Hell is there no scars, well just a hand-print on my left shoulder.

I go to the counter, set down the bag, and hit a single button on the register, snapping my fingers in satisfaction when it pops open. As I'm looting the cash, the TV to my left flicks on, showing only static. I shut it off; only to have a radio to my right turn on to white noise. Not wasting a moment, I go to another shelf and grabs a carton of salt, opens it, and begin to pour it along the windowsill.A high-pitched single tone begins, and I clutch my left ear in pain as I continue to pour salt with my right hand. As it continues, I drop the salt and crouch to the floor, groaning in agony. The window above my head shatters as the sound continues, and I drop to the floor. I leap to my feet to try to escape, and more glass on the ceiling and walls shatters. I went to a phone booth that was there and dial Sam's and Y/n's number but they don't answer, so I try another number. This time it rings and is answered."Yeah?" he said and I was happy to hear his voice, "Bobby?" I said looking around, "Yeah?", "It's me," I say and still sounds that he doesn't recognize me, "Who's "me"?" he says confirming what I thought, "Dean," I said and a dial tone sounds, so I hang up and dial again. "Who is this?" he said again, "Bobby, listen to me" I try to stop him from hanging up, "This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya" he said and the dial tone again. ~AT BOBBY'S~

I pound on the door, and Bobby's hand appears to open it. I smile cautiously, but Bobby looks at me suspiciously. "Surprise," I said, "I, I don't..." Bobby says, "Yeah, me neither. But here I am" I said entering. As I approach him he lunges forward and slashes me, so I grabbed his arm and twist it around, he breaks the grip and backhands me in the face. "Bobby! It's me!" I said but still, he doesn't believe me, "My ass!" he said and I put a chair between the both of us, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after you met Rodney, and later met your wife and... you're about the closest thing I have to a father. Bobby. It's me" I said raising my hands and he lowers his knife and places his hand on my shoulder, suddenly he slashes again, but I quickly subdue and disarm him. "I am not a shapeshifter!" I said but he can't hear me or something, "Then you're a Revenant!" he said and I shove him away and hold the knife, "Alright. If I was either, could I do this – with a silver knife?" I said rolling my sleeve and slicing my arm, "Dean?" he said starting t believe me, "That's what I've been trying to tell you" I said and he grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug and I return it.

"It's... It's good to see you, boy" he says and I felt relief, "Yeah, you too," I said smiling at him, "But... how did you bust out?" he said and I really had no idea, "I don't know. I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine box..." I didn't finish cause Bobby splashes water on my face, "I'm not a demon either, you know" I said spitting the water, "Sorry. Can't be too careful" he said giving me a towel that I use to wipe my face, "What do you remember?" he asked, "Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it. Sam's and Y/n's number are not working. They're, uh... they're not..." I said imagining the worst, "Oh, he's alive. And as far as I know, she is too" he said sitting down, "Good... Wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?" I asked him what he means, "I haven't talked to her for months. Sam calls some days to check-in" he said, "You're kidding, you just let her go off by herself?" I said getting angrier, "She was dead set on it and Sam was with her for a while," he said, "Bobby, you should've been looking after both Sam and her, you saw how she reacted!" I said raising my voice, "I tried. These last months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For them or me. We had to bury you" he said trying to make understand, "Why did you bury me, anyway?" I said curiously, "I wanted you salted and burned. Usual drill. But... they wouldn't have it" he said suspiciously, "Well, I'm glad they won that one," I said, "she said you'd need a body when she got you back home somehow. That's all she said while Sam just didn't want to listen. Both insisted that she was acting differently" he explained, " What do you mean?" I asked him to elaborate," she was quiet. Real Quiet. And then she just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find her, but she didn't want to be found by me. And Sam said that sometimes she will show up stay for a day then leave for weeks" he said and I got mad, "Oh, damnit, Y/n" I said hitting the table, "What?" he said not understanding my actions, "Oh, she got me home okay. But whatever she did, it is bad mojo" I said shaking my head, "What makes you so sure?" he looked at me with concern, "You should have seen the gravesite. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this... this force, this presence, I don't know, but it, it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this" I said and show him the handprint, "What in the hell?" he said as he stands up, "It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out" I said having my mind going wild, "But why?" he asked, "To hold up their end of the bargain," I said and I saw the worried on his face, "You think Y/n made a deal," he said as the concern grew on his face, "It's what I would have done," I said and I didn't know what to think.

Me and Bobby left to Kansas where Sam was and to see if he knew anything about Y/n.

Y/n's POV:

It's been a couple of days since I left for Iowa and I have tried at least 5 times to get a deal, but all of the demons don't accept my soul at all.

~At night~

Today it is my last hope to see if I can get a deal so I can bring Dean back, I did the whole ritual and waited for a demon to show up, I was losing my hope when I felt someone behind me and I turn to see him.

" Hello darling, you come to daddy," he said and I just looked at him and recognize him, "Crowley?" I said and he smiled at me, "so my demons said that my special one was trying to make a deal" he said and I rolled my eyes at him, "I'm not your special one Crowley. You should know that I don't like you" I said crossing my arms, "C' mon darling you do like me admit it" he said and I just looked at him, "yeah maybe the size of a mustard seed. But why the King of Hell is here instead of your minions, huh" I said and he raised his eyebrows, "well Darling you see, your soul has something special that I would like to have and I wasn't going let them have it, so I told them to not made any deals with you until I was able to come to make it" he said, "can you bring him back?" I asked him and he gave me a bitch face, "of course Darling, but in exchange for something" he said looking at me up and down, "what do you want in exchange for bringing him back?" I said as he started to walk around me, "you see as the King of Hell I need to have a Queen, and who would it be the best Queen that one of the most feared female hunters, that has a special soul like yours" he said licking his lips and I really wanted to puke, "Dean gets back and I have to go with you to Hell, for how long?" I asked accepting what I had to do, "well that's the thing. Is for eternity" he said and I gulped and looked down, "okay Crowley, where do I sign" I said and he looked surprised, "I thought I had to try to convince you more Darling, but I guess I was wrong" he said and I just wanted to finish this, "cut the shit Crowley and let's do this" I said and he took a step forward, "you have to kiss me Darling to seal the deal and your Ken doll would be back just like we said" he said and I took a deep breath and when I was about to step forward to kiss him my phone started to ring and I knew it was Sam for his ringtone, I stopped Crowley. "I have to answer this first," I said and took a step back.

"yes Sam," I said and Crowley looked at me, "he's alive Y/n!, alive!" he said and I couldn't understand what he mends, "what? who is alive?" I said and Crowley raised his eyebrows and looked away from me, "Dean, he just arrived with Bobby at the Bunker. He-he-he is truly him Y/n" he said and I felt that all the blood was drained from my body, "Sa-Sam don't play with me please" I begged him as tears started to blurry my vision, "sweetheart is me is really me please come back I missed you" I heard that voice that I've been missing for months and I dropped my phone to the ground as tears ran down my face. I pick it up and walked towards my car, "what about the deal?!" Crowley screams at me, "forget it you lied to me!" I said as I drove off.

Dean's POV:

It's been about 7 hours since we talked to Y/n and I just wanted to hold her and tell her that everything will be okay, and that I was never going to leave here ever again.

The 3 of us were at the kitchen, but soon it was just me cause the 2 of them left.

I wasn't gonna go and wait there so I decided to go to our room and sat down on the bed waiting, but I couldn't help to wonder all the bad things that can happen to her, to me, to us. I couldn't help but cry and wipe my tears as more started to run. I listen to footsteps it seemed that someone was running but I didn't bother to look at the person that enter my room, "Dean?" I heard a broken voice said and I felt my heart pump faster and I turn to see her. I stand up and run to her and picked her up on my arms as she wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist, "thank God you are here" she said as she held me closer and I did the same. I kissed her slowly showing her all the love and how much I missed her.

I felt that I was complete again I put her down and grabbed her face and kissed her again and again, " I love you, Dean, you don't know how hard it was" she said as tears started to ran down her eyes and I wiped them with my thumb, "please baby tell me that you didn't make a deal please" I said and she looked down and took a deep breath, "I tried so many times, but none wanted to accept, well until tonight. But I said no cause Sam called" she said as she tries to smile at me with her teary eyes. I stopped holding my breath as I hear her said that I was really glad that she didn't and that we didn't have to be concern about how much time did we had left together. I kissed her again, "we need both of you at the library," Sam said making both of us break the kiss.

When we were walking towards the library Y/n was holding me close, just like the day that she almost lost Scott, I looked down and kissed her head and smile at her just like she did. We soon arrived and we saw someone standing in the middle with a trenchcoat, "who are you?" I asked, " Castiel" the guy answer and I moved Y/n behind me, "Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?" I asked again as he kept looking staring at me, "I'm an Angel of the Lord" he answers, "Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing" I said and I felt Y/n move, "This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith. Unlike her she did and thanks to her faith I brought you back" he said and I was about to say something but Y/n beat me to it, " I know you, I-I saw you on town I bumped into you, but... you are using the guy as you meat suit" she said stepping forward,  "He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this" he answers and the lights started to flash and we were able to see his wings all of us took steps back but Y/n stayed in place even when I try to pull her, "so you are really an angel Castiel" she said and he nodded and step forward towards her and try to reach for her, but I saw her flinch, "I would never hurt you Y/n. You and Dean were chosen by God to accomplish his plan" he said as he caresses her face, "what plan?" Sam asked, "I have to go," he said and he disappears as we hear a flop of wings and Y/n just stays there not able to move and I move in front of her and snap my fingers and she shook her head and blinked, "what happens? where did he go?" she asked confused, "he had to go" Sam answer and I just embrace her and she did the same and I started to kiss her but soon it turns into something more, so I picked her up and I walked straight to my room and shut the door, "WE WILL BE ON THE BAR DEAN, IF BOTH NEED US!!" Sam scream and I really didn't care I just wanted to show her how much I missed her.

[foreverwayward]

“Wayward Hearts” Season 4 Chapter 1: Lazarus Rising Part 1

Masterlist

Word Count: 7.5k+

Content Warning: angst, language, violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

Torment, agony, suffering; the only words Dean Winchester knew anymore. The taste of iron destroyed his senses and filled his nose. Dean was drowning in his own blood as it filled his aching throat. Unimaginable and blinding pain ripped him apart from the inside out. 

And suddenly...it all stopped.

In complete darkness, Dean gasped for air. His lungs burned briefly as life returned to them once more, his heart jolting back to life.

Disoriented and scared, Dean breathed heavily, unsure what form of torture awaited him next. He was lying down, his arms close at his sides. 

As he tried to move, Dean realized he was trapped. The hunter’s instincts immediately kicked in and he reached into his pocket to search for something to help. His hand felt cool metal and he grasped it, knowing exactly what it was.

He flicked his lighter open and the flame sparked alive. Dean’s ragged breathing continued as he looked around only to find himself in a wooden coffin. His newly revived heart pumped in his chest and echoed in his ears. Dean trembled, his weak muscles aching at any movement.

“Help!” Dean tried to call out. His is voice too hoarse to make much noise at all and he coughed at the strain. “Help! ...help!” he cried faintly. As he panted, Dean knew no one was coming.

With what little strength he had, the hunter began to pound on the pine above his head, causing bits of dirt to rain down on his face. Dean had only one option...up.

His weak hand gripped at one of the wooden planks above him. Grunting and straining, he finally ripped the panel off as an avalanche of earth filled the coffin.

In the middle of a grassy field, a simple wooden cross was planted. It was completely still in that corner of the world as a desperate hand burst out of the dirt, followed by another. It took all Dean had in him to begin to force his way out of the grave.

As his soil-covered head found the surface, Dean gasped out for oxygen. The humid, warm air was a shock to his senses. He groaned out, his face scrunching in fatigue and pain as he pulled the rest of his body from the coffin and out of the ground.

Finally free, Dean fell onto his back in the tall grass, his chest rising and falling out of control. He closed his eyes as the sun warmed his skin and the hunter fought to steady his breathing.

Shakily, he forced himself to stand and his eyes squinted as they adjusted to the glaring light of the world around him. 

As he looked around, Dean found himself standing beside his own grave in the center of what looked like ground zero of a powerful blast. Around his crude headstone was a large, perfect circle of dead forest trees lying on the ground with even their roots ripped up from the dirt.

Dean was back, but what ripped him from Hell? What unspeakable evil escaped with him?

------

Through the hazy, wet heat, Dean walked down an empty road. He wiped his sweating brow against his forearm with his button-up shirt tied around his waist. Dean was still weak, and every mile felt longer than the last.

As he continued on, the pavement led him to an old gas station; the first sign of civilization in what felt like a lifetime. It was small with a single phone booth out front, two gas pumps and an abandoned car.

Once at the door, Dean knocked on the glass over the sign reading ‘CLOSED’.

“Hello?” he tried to call out in a raspy and tired voice. When no one answered, Dean rolled up his outer shirt over his right hand before breaking the glass on the door. The shards shattered into the quiet gas station and the hunter quickly unlocked the bolt to rush inside.

The cooler in the back called to him as he fumbled towards it. Flinging the refrigerator door open, Dean’s eager hand snatched a water bottle and forced the cap off, letting it clatter to the floor. Desperate, he gulped down the water feeling his body sigh. He gasped at the final guzzle and leaned against the fridge to steady himself.

He turned to look around him and noticed a stack of newspapers and took the top bundle. As he studied it, the ‘Pontiac Daily Gazette’ was dated for Thursday, September 18, 2008.

“September…” Dean read to himself, taken aback.

There was a sink and mirror tucked in the back of the humble gas station. Dean turned on the faucet of the dingy sink, splashing cool water on his dirty, sweaty face. Using his outer shirt again, he dried himself off and exhaled out as he leaned against the worn porcelain.

Dean stared up at his reflection with curiosity. He lifted his fitted black t-shirt, unnerved at what he might find as he exposed his chest.

Awful memories flashed through his mind as he remembered the night the Hellhounds had ripped his body into pieces. The pain of his death felt so fresh that he could have sworn that he could still feel the demon dog’s claws in his skin.

But, to his surprise, Dean looked at his unblemished, unscarred chest in that faded gas station mirror. He turned his left shoulder to the glass and pulled up his sleeve, wincing at the burning pain. Dean revealed a large, raw handprint burned into his flesh.

He knew something had brought him out of Hell and nervously imagined what awful thing had the power to do so.

Dean glanced around again and grabbed a plastic bag. Hungrily, he tore into an energy bar and practically moaned at the taste of food once more. Dean’s eager hands collected more bars along with several bottles of water and stashed them in his bag.

Stopping in front of a magazine stand, he grinned slowly for the first time. On the stand was an adult magazine-- ‘Busty Asian Beauties’. Dean picked it up and smirked as he briefly flipped through the pages before stuffing it into his cash of finds.

At the counter, he set down his goods and hit a single button on the register. It immediately popped open with a ‘ding’ and the hunter snapped his fingers in satisfaction. 

As he looted the cash, the TV to his left flickered on, only showing static. Dean shut it off, only for the radio to his right to turn on with a loud white noise. 

Not wasting a moment, he scurried to another stocked shelf nearby and grabbed a carton of salt. Dean quickly opened it and began to pour a line of salt along the windowsill.

A high-pitched single tone began and he clutched his left ear in pain as he continued to set a barrier. As it continued, Dean dropped the salt and crouched to the floor, groaning in absolute agony as his hearing was pierced by the sound.

The window above his head shattered at the deafening noise as it raged on. Explosions of glass surrounded Dean until he threw himself away from the windows, landing hard on the ground. Covering his face as best he could, he waited out the phenomenon that held him at its mercy.

As the final small pieces of glass trickled down around him, Dean peered up anxiously. His knuckles were bleeding, his head pounding, and the pain of his ears had him checking for blood. Dean cautiously stood up once more as he looked out the destroyed front windows that had been completely blown out.

That was when Dean grew even more concerned. Whatever had pulled him out, may now be hunting him.

Dean’s pockets jingled with coins as he fisted his hand in to grab money for the phone booth. He paid the machine as fast as possible, dying to hear a voice on the other end.

He dialed a number and only heard an alert tone.

“We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected.”

Hanging up, he tried another number he knew.

“We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected.”

Frustrated, he hung up again and attempted a third call. It rang once before it was answered.

An annoyed but familiar and gruff voice spoke. “Yeah?”

The first person he had heard since coming back made Dean’s heart leap. “Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“It's me.”

“Who's ‘me’?”

“Dean,” he replied earnestly.

A dial tone sounded and Dean looked at the phone, confused. He hung up the receiver and dialed the same number.

“Who the fuck is this?” Bobby asked angrily.

Almost pleading, Dean told him, “Bobby, listen to me.”

“This ain't funny. ...call again, I'll fuckin’ kill ya.”

The tone sounded again and a defeated Dean hung up the phone. 

He turned to see the old, beat-up white car parked outside. It was then that the hunter’s eyes lit up with a gleam of hope.

Moving as fast as he could, Dean effortlessly hotwired the car as the engine sputtered to a start. He immediately hopped in and was ready to hit the road. 

The car kicked up dirt behind it as Dean peeled out and drove away from the gas station.

------

A loud pounding on the front door of Bobby’s house had the old hunter begrudgingly go to answer. As he opened the door, his eyes met with Dean’s. He looked winded and apprehensive as he smiled cautiously. 

Bobby stared back at him, suspiciously with wide and confused eyes. Though he wasn’t a praying man, a part of Bobby prayed every day to a God he didn’t believe in, that the boy he called ‘son’ would come back from the dead.  

“Surprise,” Dean said softly.

Taking a step back in shock, Bobby fumbled over his words. “I--I don't…”

“Yeah, me neither.” Dean stepped inside and gave a light shrug. “But here I am.”

As Dean grew closer, Bobby lunged forward at him with a knife in hand. Dean grabbed his arm and twisted it around to stop him, but the old hunter broke his grip and backhanded him in the face with a closed fist.

Dean grunted out at the impact as he stumbled backward from the blow. “Bobby! It's me!”

“My ass!”

Shoving a chair between him and a wrathful Bobby, Dean held his hands out in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and...you're about the closest thing I have to a father.” Slowly, Dean tried to stand up straight with trepidation. “Bobby...it's me.”

Bobby lowered the knife and stepped forward, hesitating and almost afraid. He placed a gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder and for a brief second, Dean finally felt alive. The touch of someone he loved filled his soul and brought his scarred and traumatized mind back into a moment of sanity.

Though the moment didn’t last long as Bobby’s expression filled with rage once more. He slashed at Dean again with the large blade but was quickly subdued and disarmed by him.

“I am not a shapeshifter!”

“Then you're a Revenant!” Bobby yelled as he struggled against Dean’s hold.

Shoving Bobby away, and having taken the knife, Dean held it out in front of him as a sign of good faith. “Alright. If I was either, could I do this--with a silver knife?” He rolled up his left sleeve and grimaced at the thought before slicing his arm above the elbow. A line of blood appeared and trickled down his forearm as Dean still tried to catch his breath after the tussle.

“Dean…” Bobby was in disbelief, his mouth somewhat agape.

“That's what I've been trying to tell you,” he panted.

The old man almost began to hyperventilate as he broke in emotion. Bobby grabbed Dean and pulled him in for a tight hug, squeezing him with all the love he wished he had shown him before he had gone.

Holding back his tears, a heartfelt thought passed through Bobby’s mind. “My boy…”

Dean returned the sincere hug with enthusiasm and utter relief on his face. He was finally home.

They finally pulled apart and Bobby’s voice cracked. “It's--it's good to see you, boy.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“But…” the old hunter shook his head incredulously. “How the hell did you bust out?”

“I don't know. I just, uh--I just woke up in a pine box--” his words were interrupted by a sudden splash of water in his face. 

Dean paused as the holy water Bobby had thrown at him dripped down his then soaked and exasperated expression. He spit out the liquid that had gone into his open mouth, trying not to get frustrated. “I'm not a demon either, you know.”

“Sorry,” Bobby shrugged. “Can't be too careful.” 

The two went further into the house and Dean wiped his face with a towel he had grabbed from the kitchen. 

“But...that don't make a goddamn lick of sense.” Bobby just shook his head, rattled and slightly unnerved by it all.

“Yeah. Yeah, you're preachin' to the choir.”

As they stood in the study, Bobby went behind his desk that was covered in empty bottles of liquor.  “Dean, your chest was ribbons--your insides were slop. And you've been buried four months. Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit--”

“I know, I should look like a ‘Thriller’ video reject.”

“What do you remember?”

Dean draped the dishrag over his shoulder. “Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then...lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it.” Bobby sat down, his face still in shock. “Sam's number's not working. He's, uh--he's not…”

“Oh, he's alive, as far as I know.”

“Good…” Dean paused and his face changed to one of concern. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘as far as you know’?”

“I haven't talked to him for months.”

“You're kidding! You just let him go off by himself?”

“He was dead set on it. I tried to stop him, but...these last months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For him or me...or Riley.”

Dean’s heart sank at the mention of her name. He licked his lip anxiously and asked, “is she with him?”

Before Bobby could respond, the sound of a car approaching caught both of their attention. It went quiet as they paused and a car door slammed shut.

Dean heard a dog bark and he felt his nerves spiral out of control as Finnick pushed past the still slightly ajar screen door and rushed in. 

The dog went to Dean with a happy wagging tail, but the hunter didn’t bend to pet him with his wide eyes set on Bobby. There was only one reason the golden retriever would be there.

With his nervous heart beating hard in his ears, Dean charged to the front door with long strides. His face was twisted in emotion and anxiety as his breathing became erratic.

Blowing through the screen door, Dean rushed onto the porch with his eyes set on the dirt road leading up to the house. There was a pang in his chest that threatened the air he breathed when he saw a familiar black Mustang parked out front. 

But it wasn’t the classic Ford that made him weak, it was the auburn-haired woman leaning against the driver side door. Her arms were folded across her chest as she stared out at the horizon over the sea of scrap metal. She seemed distant, with the light she once radiated drained from her face; an empty and vacant expression had taken its place.

Dean’s heart stopped as he watched a sudden breeze blow past her, throwing her long hair behind her and she inhaled deeply. She was like a glimpse into heaven after an eternity in darkness.

As if something had hit her like a ton of bricks, Riley’s body stiffened and she hesitantly turned towards the front porch. There was something calling to her, or someone, and her eyes welled. 

Once her focus had landed on Dean, she gasped softly as her hand clutched at her chest in shock.

Riley stood motionless, just staring back at him and Dean drank her in. Somehow, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. That brief moment was even more powerful than seeing her for the first time that fated morning in Lawrence.

With his boots stomping against the wood with every step, Dean walked down from his spot on the porch, though his gaze never left hers. He only made it a few feet before he stopped, worried that he would scare her.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Dean uttered, barely getting his words out as his eyes filled with emotion.

Everything inside of Riley screamed at the sight of her lost love, though no sound escaped her lips. Still, she mustered what courage she had and hesitantly made her way toward him.

“It’s me…” he said sweetly. “Riley, it’s me.”

A tear fell from her shocked face before she took a shaky step forward. The two grew closer together until there was only a small space between them. They stared into the other’s eyes and Dean smiled through a nervous breath.

Riley reached up with a trembling hand to finally make contact with his cheek. As Dean leaned into her touch, it was enough to make him break and his lips trembled as they connected. That magical bond they had always shared came flooding back and it sucked the air from them both. It was like a piece of their souls had found their way back into their bodies and they were whole once again.

Exhaling a sharp and shaky breath, Riley gazed into his eyes. “...Dean.”

“Yeah...it’s me.”

There was no question in her mind who he was, there was never another person that brought her to life the way he did. 

Riley grabbed Dean to pull him in for a starved and needy kiss. He immediately reciprocated and wrapped his arms around her, melting into the warmth she covered him in. She whimpered against his lips as Dean’s hands tangled into her hair to hold her close. The passion that swelled between them was like magic.

They breathed raggedly as they pulled apart, tears softly falling.

“How…?” she asked in a broken voice.

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Riley threw her arms around him, wrapping him in a powerful embrace. Her fingers practically dug into his back, desperate to feel him. “I don’t care. I don’t care how it happened.” 

He returned the hug as deeply as he could. Dean buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes as he inhaled her scent while she nuzzled into his chest. 

The sound of his heartbeat was the most beautiful song she had ever heard, a melody she refused to allow to go silent ever again.

Riley couldn’t help it as her voice cracked and almost went into a whisper trying not to sob. “I missed you--I missed you so much.”

Dean took her jaw lovingly as he held her eyes locked onto him. “I’m never gonna leave you again.” He planted a soft kiss on her lips and the two smiled, giggling under their breaths with incredible joy as they hugged again.

With her face buried into Dean’s chest, Riley wept with relief. He kissed the top of her head, trying to hold back his own tears as they seeped from his eyes. 

The two stood on the dirt road clinging to each other with the warm sun shining down on them.

For the first time in four months, the two found a moment of peace. Solace washed through them as their hearts collided, home once again in each other’s arms.

------

Later, back inside Bobby’s home once more, the three were still dumbfounded. Though happy to be back together and reunited, Riley, Dean, and Bobby knew that things were far from over.

“How’d you know it was him?” Bobby questioned Riley as he looked at the couple unable to part from each other.

She looked up to touch Dean’s face again, staring into the forest green eyes she thought she’d lost forever. “...I’d know him anywhere.” Dean kissed her forehead and their moment passed. “I just still can’t believe it. I mean...we buried you.”

“Yeah. Why did you bury me, anyway?”

The two turned as Bobby answered for her. “I wanted you salted and burned--usual drill. But...Sam and Riley wouldn't have it.”

“Well, I'm glad they won that one.”

“They said you'd need a body when they got you back home somehow. But that's about all I could get outta Sam.”

Suspiciously, Dean looked between the others. “What do you mean?”

“He was quiet...real quiet. And then he just took off--wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found. I haven’t heard from him since.”

Glancing down at Riley once more, Dean questioned with an almost angry expression, “...what did you two do?”

“Dean…” Riley shook her head and licked her bit her bottom lip trying to find the words as Finn jumped onto the old couch and laid down. “I won’t lie to you. I--” she felt herself about to cry again but sniffled it back. “Dean, I tried everything to get you back. I tried to make a deal, but no one would make the trade. I tried to find the Trickster...hell--Sam and I even tried to open up the Devil’s Gate again. None of it worked.” When Dean’s gaze turned darker, she swallowed hard knowing she had disappointed him. “I know. I know, you’re probably angry but, Dean I couldn’t just do nothing...”

Dean drug his palm down his face trying to soothe himself. “Okay. Okay...I get it. I’m not saying I’m happy about it--at all. But--” he tucked her hair behind her ear. “At least you’re okay.”

“But…”

“But, what?”

“I don’t know what Sam may have done.”

“You haven’t been with him?” he asked almost shocked.

She shook her head. “Not for nearly three months now. We, uh--we lost touch.”

“Lost tou--” Dean couldn’t even finish his sentence. How Sam and Riley had split up was beyond his comprehension. “Dammit, Sammy,” he muttered. “It had to be him. But, whatever he did, it is bad fuckin’ mojo.”

Bobby shrugged. “What makes you so sure?” Though he had been worried about Sam for months, all Bobby wanted was to bask in the moment of having Dean back again.

“You should have seen the gravesite,” he told him. “It was like a goddamn nuke went off. And then there was this--this force, this presence. I don't know, but it--it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this…” Dean stripped out of his jacket on his left side and pulled up his sleeve to reveal the branded handprint in his skin.

With his brow scrunched in both uncertainty and curiosity, Bobby slowly stood and walked over to him. “What in the hell?”

“It was like a demon just yanked me out...or rode me out.”

“But why?”

“To hold up their end of the bargain.”

Riley looked at Dean’s burn with shock as she studied it. “You think Sam made a deal, don’t you?”

“It's what you and I would have done.”

“Alright,” Bobby started. “I’ll, uh--I’ll go put on some coffee.”

As he left, Riley’s focus was still on the mark on Dean’s arm. She gently ran her fingers over it as Dean watched her loving touch. 

A bright light flashed in Riley’s mind like a blinding bolt of lightning and she gasped at the jolt.

“Sweetheart, you alright?” Dean’s eyes darted back and forth between Riley’s with worry as she blinked rapidly trying to readjust. “You saw something...”

Left dumbfounded, she swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. “I’ve never felt anything like that before, Dean. Whatever this is, it’s powerful as hell. ...we need to be careful.”

------

Dean had finally gotten a chance to clean himself up and was beginning to slowly feel like himself again. Riley and Bobby waited nearby as he made a call, as he sought out a lead on Sam.

“Yeah, hi. I have a cell phone account with you guys, and, uh--I lost my phone. I was wondering if you could turn the GPS on for me.” Dean listened to the operator on the other line. “Yeah. Name's Wedge Antilles. Social is 2-4-7-4. Thank you.” Hanging up the phone, he crossed over to the laptop on the table nearby.

“’Wedge Antilles’,” Riley chuckled from the couch as she pet Finnick. “That nerd.”

Intrigued, Bobby followed Dean. “How'd you know he'd use that name?”

“You kiddin' me? What don't I know about that kid?” Typing in the web address for ARC Mobile, Dean began his search. While it loaded, he noticed the stash of empty bottles of alcohol scattered across the room. “Hey, guys? What's the deal with the liquor store? You been throwin’ parties without me?”

“Like I said...last few months ain't been all that easy.”

The room went quiet while Dean held Riley and Bobby’s gaze. Dean knew the feeling of needing to drink the pain away all too well. “Right.”

The laptop beeped as it displayed a city map with a blue arrowing pointing to a starred location. The locator read:

263 Adams Road

Pontiac, Illinois.

“Sam's in Pontiac, Illinois.”

Riley got up and hovered over his shoulder, staring at the screen and then pointing to a spot close by. “That’s right by where we buried you.”

“Yeah. Right where I popped up. Hell of a coincidence, don't you think?”

It was then that Riley could feel it, the walls that Dean had built in his mind once again. She couldn’t get a read on him no matter how hard she tried. Either he was disconnected after all that had happened or Hell had done irreparable damage to his tattered soul.

------

Dean, Bobby, and Riley walked down a dingy and poorly lit hallway as they stopped in front of the last door. Finn was close at their side, happily following them along. The door was marked by a red wooden heart carved with the room number, 207.

As Bobby stood at his side, with Riley hanging back with her faithful canine companion, Dean knocked. 

As the door opened, a young and incredibly attractive woman answered. She had long dark hair and was smaller in height like Riley. The strange woman had on only underwear and a tank-top as she looked back at them expectantly.

“So where is it?” she asked.

Dean glanced over to Bobby, confused. “Where's what?”

“The pizza...that takes two guys to deliver?” The woman peered over the men’s shoulders and her face brow arched seeing Riley behind them.

“I think we got the wrong room.”

Sam stepped into the light behind her; he was grim and focused with his hair damp after a recent shower. He was in a t-shirt and jeans, not looking like himself at all. “Hey, is--” Stopping dead in his tracks as he saw Dean, Sam swallowed in shock as his eyes flickered between him and Bobby.

The corner of Dean’s lip curled seeing his little brother again. Quietly and heartfelt with joy, he said, “heya, Sammy.” He walked into the room with Sam still completely silent and the woman stepped aside to let Dean in as he went to his brother.

Sam pulled out a knife and lunged at Dean with anger in his eyes. The woman screamed and Dean blocked the attack as Bobby pulled Sam away, gripping him around the shoulders. Sam struggled against his hold, wanting to destroy whatever creature was imitating his dead brother.

“Who are you?!” Sam shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Like you didn't do this?!”

“Do what?!”

Still clinging to the desperate young hunter, Bobby tried to soothe him as Dean watched with welling eyes. “It's him. It's him. I've been through this already, it's really him.”

Sam stared at Dean as the struggle slowly faded from his body. “What…”

Advancing cautiously and meeting his stare, Dean teased, “I know. I look fantastic, huh?”

Bobby let go of Sam who looked on the verge of tears. The distance between him and his brother made his heart ache even with only mere feet keeping them apart. 

As he quickly moved forward, he pulled Dean into a desperate hug. They embraced for several seconds, heavy with emotion and trembling as the two brothers were reunited once more. Bobby looked on with tears in his eyes seeing his boys back together. 

Pulling apart, Sam pushed Dean back at arm’s length to look at him alive and well, no longer torn in the ways that had haunted his dreams for months.

Riley waited quietly in the hall, clearly moved by seeing her family all together.

“So...” the woman started hesitantly in the awkward silence. “Are you two like...together?”

Just remembering again that she was there, Sam answered, “what? No. No. He's my brother.”

“O--oh...got it. I--I guess...look, I should probably go.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Sorry.” Sam waited for her to dress again and led her to the door.

“So, call me,” she told him as she peered up at the Winchester with a smile.

Still rattled, Sam nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure thing, Kathy.”

With disappointment at his response, she corrected him, “Kristy.”

“Right.” As she began to walk away, Sam saw Riley leaning against the wall in the hallway.

She forced a small smile. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey…” he said offering the same expression.

Riley waited until he motioned for her to come in and then followed the others inside as Sam shut the door behind them.

Sitting down on the velvet ottoman of the tacky motel room, Sam welcomed Finn with loving pats as the dog excitedly went to see him. “Hey, buddy. How are ya?”

Dean was standing nearby, glaring down at him with his arms crossed. He, Bobby, and Riley were ready and waiting for answers. 

“So, tell me,” Dean began with irritation in his voice. “What'd it cost?”

“The girl?” Sam smirked with a breathy laugh. “I don't pay, Dean.”

“That's not funny, Sam. To bring me back--what'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something a hell of a lot worse?”

“...you think I made a deal?” he asked as he peered back at his brother.

Across the room, Bobby sat on the couch like an angry father. “That's exactly what we think.”

“Well, I didn't.”

Intensely, Dean pushed on. “Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not lying.”

“So, what? Now, I'm off the hook and you're on--is that it?” He began to saunter over to Sam, fully believing a deal had been struck and it enraged him. After everything Dean had been through, the thought of his brother being next on Hell’s list made him physically sick. “You're some demon's fuckin’ bitch-boy? I didn't want to be saved like this.”

Sam stood angrily. “Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, alright?”

Not able to take his lies anymore, Dean grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt and demanded through gritted teeth. “There's no other way that this could have gone down and I know Riley didn’t do this. Now tell the truth!”

“I tried everything!” Sam barked back as he pushed Dean off. “That's the truth. Riley and I even tried opening the goddamn Devil's Gate. And yeah, I tried to bargain, Dean, but none of those motherfuckers would deal, alright?” His tone changed as he felt a sob choke in his throat. “You were rotting in Hell for months--for months, and I couldn't stop it. So, I'm sorry it wasn't me, alright?” It was clear Sam felt he had failed his brother when he couldn’t save him and the guilt was slowly eating him alive like a parasite. “Dean, I'm sorry.”

With a nod of understanding, he relented. “It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize, I believe you.”

Jumping onto the bed, Finn curled up to Riley to rest his head in her lap and she ran her fingers through his fur. She was relieved that Sam hadn’t been able to make a deal after worrying about him for months. 

Riley discreetly wiped a small tear from her eye before it fell and pulled herself together. At least she finally knew he was safe.

“Don't get me wrong,” Bobby started as he stood to join the boys. “I'm gladdened as hell that Sam's soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question.”

As he completed the old hunter’s thought, Dean asked, “if he didn't pull me out, then what did?”

------

The tension that had been swirling through that zebra print motel room had finally died down. Though there were still too many questions that remained unanswered.

Sam passed out bottles of beer as the hunters talked it all through. Bobby sat at the table, while Dean had his arm around Riley holding her close at his side on the sofa.

“I still have way too many questions,” Dean started as he popped open his beer. “For one--Sam, what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?”

“Well, once Riley and I figured out we couldn't save you, we started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback.” Sam and his sister shared a solemn look. Nothing was the same between them, that much was clear. “But, uh--we were both pretty messed up after everything and weren’t really handling things well.”

“I can’t believe you two went after that bitch on your own,” Bobby scolded. “At least Riley had the good sense to call once in a while.”

Dean noticed something and frowned with curiosity as he went to investigate.

“Uh, yeah--I'm sorry, Bobby.” Sam knew Bobby was right. He had been reckless and out of control since he’d lost Dean. “I should have called. I just…” he stopped and sighed as he melted into his chair. “I just wasn’t myself.”

Picking up what he had found, Dean turned to his brother showing off a pink-flowered bra. “Oh, yeah…” he added sarcastically. “I really feel your pain.”

Sam let out a breathy chuckle as his brother sat next to him. “Anyways, uh--I was checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left--booked up here.”

“When?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“...when I busted out.”

Finally taking part in the conversation, Riley leaned onto her legs with her bottle in hand. “Dean, you don’t think these demons are here because of you, do you?” He shrugged with an unsure look as if to say anything was possible at that point. “Okay, say you’re right. Why though?”

“Well, I don't know. Some badass demon drags me out and now this? It's gotta be connected somehow.”

“How you feelin', anyway?” Bobby asked. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Dean much since he had been back. He was constantly studying him, needing to understand.

“I mean--I'm a little hungry.”

“No, I mean--do you feel like yourself? Anything strange, or different?”

“Or demonic?” Dean’s tone was annoyed, almost insulted; though Bobby just shrugged. “Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I'm me?”

“Yeah. Well, listen. No demon's letting you loose out of the goodness of their bleeding hearts. They've gotta have something downright nasty planned.”

“Well, I feel fine.”

Unless she was talking directly to Dean, Riley kept quiet for most of their meeting. Not only was she still reeling from him coming back and constantly being flooded with emotion, but the feelings of those around her felt like she was drowning--except for Sam. 

Riley watched him carefully, still looking for a hint of what had changed. Trying to connect with him was like trying to speak into an empty void. The Sam that had been her brother and best friend was beyond her reach and it saddened Riley in unbearable measure. Sam had his secrets, that much she’d known for some time. But, with Dean back, those secrets began to worry her even more.

“Okay, look,” Sam started. “We don't know what they're planning. We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help.”

Bobby took a swig of his beer and wiped what may have remained off his mustache. “I know a psychic--a few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking.”

Eager and needing answers, Dean was happy to accept the offer. “Hell yeah, it's worth a shot.”

“I'll be right back.” The old hunter stood to leave and groaned tiredly. He took his phone out of his pocket and headed out of the room as he dialed.

When Dean stood, ready to go, Sam quickly got up as well. “Hey, wait. You, uh--you probably want this back.” 

Reaching into his collar, Sam pulled out a black cord necklace as Dean’s amulet came out from under his shirt. Sam placed it in his brother’s hands and Dean looked down at, touched that his brother had been wearing it since he was gone.

“Thanks.” Dean immediately put his necklace back on with a sigh. He remembered how much he had treasured the small gift and having it back brought him incredible joy.

“Yeah, don't mention it.” Unable to leave the question unasked, Sam gathered his courage to say what was on his mind. “Dean...what was it like?”

Riley watched closely, listening and wanting to know his answer as she got up to gather her things.

“What, Hell?” Dean questioned, sounding aloof to the topic. “I don't know, I--I must have blacked it out. I don't remember a damn thing.”

Nodding, a sigh of relief left Sam. “Well, thank God for that.”

“Yeah. Hey, uh--you two go ahead. I’ll meet you guys downstairs.”

“Sure.” Sam and Bobby began to head out as Finnick followed, though Riley lingered behind.

Dean had gone into the bathroom and flicked on the light. As if he had walked in on a massacre, the walls were blood-red and Dean’s heartrate quickened once left alone with his thoughts. 

The flash of crimson was then immediately gone.

Dean stared at himself in the mirror and ran a hand over his chin before leaning forward onto the sink.

Sudden horrific memories ripped through him and he shook in fear as his skin crawled. Flashbacks of his beaten and bloody body crying out in agony and horror took his breath away. Loud shrieks pierced his mind and felt like blades in his ears. There was an eerie sound of suffering that there were no words for. It was a cry that not even the darkest of nightmares could comprehend.

“Dean…?”

Turning to the soft voice behind him, the screams faded. Dean blinked himself back into reality, confused and afraid as a worried Riley stood at the door.

“...you alright?”

“What?” he asked, still disoriented. “Oh, yeah. I, uh--I guess I’m just really tired is all.”

Riley didn’t believe him for a second but knew pushing the matter would do more harm than good. “Okay. Uh--let’s head on down. They’re waiting for us.”

“Yeah.” Dean feigned a smile even though he knew there was no fooling Riley. 

But still desperate to clear his mind of the horrors that plagued him, he closed the space between them and peered down at her. As Dean played with the hair that fell over her shoulders, he looked into her eyes and softly chuckled under his breath. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Wanting to be whatever he needed, Riley let Dean in and comforted him with waves of love that felt like gentle ocean water washing onto the shore. “You sure you’re okay?”

Dean took her hand in his and brought her knuckles to his lips. He sighed into the warmth of her skin and his body relaxed. “I got you, don’t I?” With one loving kiss, Dean brought their foreheads together.

“Always.”

“Then I’m good.”

As the two pulled apart, they shared forced upward curls of their lips as Riley turned to leave. The loss of her closeness brought the haunting memories back into the forefront of Dean’s mind and he clenched his fist, trying not to tremble.

He may have been ready to leave Hell behind. But Hell wasn’t ready to let go of Dean Winchester.

------

Once all four of the hunters had met up at the motel parking lot, Bobby led them all down a set of concrete steps to the lower lot with Finn in tow.

He pulled out his keys as he spoke to the others without a look. “She's about four hours down the interstate. Try to keep up.” The old hunter got into his beat-up car and started the engine as he waited for Riley and the boys to be ready.

“I assume you'll want to drive.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, Sam grabbed the keys to their beloved Impala before tossing them to Dean.

Dean couldn’t help his excited chuckles as he grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, I almost forgot!” He approached the Chevy and ran a hand along the side lovingly. “Hey, Baby, did you miss me?” The familiar sound of the squeaking doors sounded like home. 

Getting into the driver’s side, Dean settled in with a sigh. His attention turned to an iPod plugged into the stereo and his face fell as he gave the gadget a dirty look. 

Sam got into the front, smiling at his brother’s reaction, while Riley hopped into the backseat with Finnick. 

“What the fuck is that?” Dean asked.

“That's an iPod jack.”

“You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up.”

With a scoff, Sam smirked. “Dean, I thought it was my car.”

Dean sneered and exhaled his frustration as he turned the key in the ignition. Jason Manns’ song ‘Vision’ began to play through the speakers. He rolled his eyes and glared at Sam again, looking pained and disgusted with his choice of music.

“Really?”

All Sam could do was shrug innocently in response. Dean then ripped the iPod out of the jack and tossed it back into the back seat. 

Riley caught the discarded technology and smiled to herself. Dean was definitely back.

------

As Baby followed Bobby’s tail lights down the dark highway, Sam, Riley, and Dean talked things out with it just being the three of them again.

“There's still one thing that's bothering me,” Dean told them. “The night that I bit it. Or…got bit.” He laughed at his own wit, enjoying how clever he was. “How'd you two make it out? I thought Lilith was going to kill you both.”

Sam shifted in his seat to look at both of his partners as Riley leaned in. The two still had no answers for what really happened that night. “Well, she tried. She couldn't.”

“What do you mean, she couldn't?”

“She fired this, like--burning light at us, and...didn't leave a scratch. Like we were immune or something.”

When Dean glanced back to his girlfriend through the rearview mirror, Riley shrugged. 

“I mean--we were just as surprised as she was--if not more so,” she explained. “She hauled ass outta there after that.” Finn had fallen asleep in Ri ley’s lap as she rubbed his ears, comforted by his presence.

“Huh. What about Ruby, where is she?”

“Dead for all we know. Haven’t heard anything from her since.”

Dean bit his lip, not sure if he wanted to ask the question on his mind. “So, Sammy...you been using your, uh--freaky ESP stuff?”

“No,” the younger brother retorted.

“You sure about that? Well, I mean, now that you've got...immunity--whatever the hell that is. Just wondering what other kind of weirdo shit you've got going on.”

“Nothing, Dean. Look, you didn't want me to go down that road, so I didn't go down that road. It was practically your dying wish.”

“Yeah, well, let's keep it that way.”

Sam clenched his jaw as he struggled not to lash out at Dean. “You know, you don’t ask about this stuff when it comes to Riley’s abilities. Why is it always with me that you pull this shit?”

“You know--” stopping mid-sentence as he felt himself getting worked up, Dean sighed. “You know it’s not the same thing.”

“How is it not the same thing?!”

As Dean scoffed, Riley ran a hand through her hair and it cascaded around her face as she tried to find the words. “Guys, please…can we not?”

The car fell silent as Sam turned to stare out the window as he brooded. He held a bit of resentment toward Dean for treating him and Riley so differently. 

If Sam was being honest, maybe his resentment was more towards her than anyone else.

------

It was early the next morning by the time the hunters had reached their destination. They parked in front of a small house with flowers outside the slightly faded white porch.

Bobby knocked on the chocolate-colored door and didn’t have to wait long before a woman opened the door with a smile. She was in her thirties, strong and beautiful with a ready smile. The woman’s figure was toned, in jeans and a tank top. Her dark hair made her green eyes pop; eyes that would call any sailor to his death.

“Bobby!” She grabbed him into a hug, lifting him briefly off the ground with a playful grunt.

Sam, Dean, and Riley shared a look, surprised by the intense personality of Bobby’s friend.

“Pamela, you're a sight for sore eyes,” Bobby told her with a matching grin.

She stepped back and drug her eyes over Sam and Dean; up and down as if appraising them both. Pamela had hunger in her gaze, and her instant dirty thoughts of the brothers made Riley grimace.

“So, these the boys?”

“Sam, Dean. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state.”

Feeling flattered by Pamela’s obvious attention, Dean replied, “hey.”

“Hi,” Sam said awkwardly with a smile to match.

“Mmm-mmm-mmm,” the psychic chuckled. “Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual.”

“If you say so,” he retorted.

Pamela’s attention shifted to the female hunter and she took a minute to study her as well. The golden dog at her side panted with a wagging tail. “And you must be Riley. Heard a lot about you.”

With a curious look, Riley asked, “from who?”

“I have my connections.” She smirked at the smaller hunter but almost in a flirty manner. “I don’t think I need to tell you what it means to be ‘a rare individual’, do I?”

“Hey, I’ll take whatever answers you got.”

“Hmm,” Pamela nodded with a curl of her lip. “Well, come on in. The furry one is welcome too.” The psychic ushered them in, and once they had all gone inside, she closed the door behind them.

In the foyer, the five made a small circle as they immediately began talking.

Bobby was ready and eager to get things moving. “So, you hear anything?”

“Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why.”

“So, what's next?”

“A séance, I think. See if we can see who did the dirty deed.”

“You're not gonna…” Bobby paused, skeptically. “...summon the damn thing here.”

“No. I just want to get a sneak peek at it--like a crystal ball without the crystal.” Pamela smiled as she walked through the group and headed into the parlor.

Dean and Riley shared a look and the two shrugged.

“I'm game,” he added before quickly following behind their new ally.

The séance room was painted black with odd art sparingly on the walls. It went dark as Bobby closed the thick velvet curtains while the others stood by waiting.

Finn found a spot in the corner and curled up to rest as he waited.

Pamela spread a black tablecloth over a small table covered symbols. Sam, Riley, and Dean watched warily as she worked. 

It wasn’t until Pamela squat in front of a dark-colored cabinet that Dean really paid attention. He cocked his head as he read the scrawled tattoo across her lower back that peeked out from under her shirt. ‘Jesse Forever’

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re looking at, Dean Winchester,” Riley whispered as she gave him a playful shake of her head. “Shame on you.”

He looked like the cat that caught the canary and he fumbled through his thoughts. “I wasn’t--I mean, she--I was just…”

Riley chuckled under her breath. “It’s okay, Dean. I have eyes and I’m just as guilty for staring.”

“Really?” Dean seemed excited almost at her words, turned on even.

“No!” she snarked back at him with a laugh. “Ya freak.”

Dean was embarrassed and his face went a little red. The whole thing was far too humorous for Riley, though she tried to hide it.

Wanting to ease her boyfriend’s curiosity, Riley asked the burning question in the room. “Jesse, huh?”

Pamala laughed. “It sure wasn't forever.”

“His loss,” Dean said plainly.

As she stood back up with several pillar candles in her hands, the psychic stopped in front of Dean with a seductive smirk. “Might be your gain.”

She passed by them, going back over to the table and Dean turned to his partners with a lowered voice. “I think she’s into me.”

Sam scoffed with a fat smile. “Yeah, she would eat you alive.”

“What can I say?” he asked, peering over to Riley with a hooked brow. “I attract formidable women.”

“Damn right, you do,” Riley teased as she moved passed Dean, giving his backside a quick smack.

He jolted at her touch and seethed as he watched her move away. Riley was sexier than any woman that could make a pass at Dean. The girl knew how to drive him to the brink of insanity and the sudden movement in his jeans made him lick his lips.

Seeing Dean’s primal urges grow, Sam frowned. “Ew.” He too left and joined the others at the table. 

Dean cocked his head, lost in a dirty thought and smiled before following.

With everyone gathered at the table, the group readied to commune with the supernatural. Six lit candles sat at the center of the table over the cloth which had a painted symbol; the flickering flames the only lights keeping them from utter darkness.

“Right,” Pamela started. “Take each other's hands.” They all began to do as they were told with Riley and Dean on opposite sides of her. The instant Riley and Pamela’s palms touched, the psychic looked into the hunter’s eyes. “Oh, honey...” There was intrigue and fascination in her voice. “What are you? You’re something new altogether, huh?”

“New?” Riley questioned.

“There’s something as ancient as time itself in you, but it feels--” she stopped as she thought to herself, trying to soak in the energy from Riley, hoping to understand it. “Like something no one’s ever seen before or will ever again.”

“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

Pamela chuckled to herself as she took Dean’s hand. Her grin grew as she turned back and forth between the couple. “I don’t believe it.”

Dean glanced down at her hand and then back to her face. “What?”

“I heard it was real, but never saw it myself. The two of you--you have a certain connection, don’t you?”

“Yeah…” he answered, meeting Riley’s eyes with a smirk. “Yeah, we do.”

“...you’re soulmates.”

Riley cocked her head back, incredulously. “I mean...I don’t know if we believe in that kinda thing.”

“No, it’s not the whole ‘there’s one perfect person for everyone’ bullshit you hear about. This is bigger...on a cosmic scale. The entire universe had to align perfectly for you to find each other. It’s more than love, it’s fate--destiny.” Pamela shook her head and scoffed a laugh. “I didn’t buy it either until just now when I was channeling you both through me. The energy that flows between you, it’s like...magic.” 

The couple stared at each other, their expressions perplexed as they were at a loss for words. 

“Alright,” Pamela said clearing her throat. “Let’s get this show on the road before these two start fucking like bunnies.” Both and Sam’s and Bobby’s faces recoiled. “I need to touch something our mystery monster touched.”

Dean looked around, nervous, then took off his outer shirt. Pulling up his left sleeve, he revealed the brand. Sam stared at the scar for the first time and it shocked him to his core.

As she laid her hand on the burned flesh on Dean’s arm, Pamela exhaled and closed her eyes. “Okay.” Following suit, the rest shut their eyes as well. She began to chant in a firm but steady tone. “I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.” 

The television nearby flicked on as static blared through its speakers.

Riley’s face scrunched as she listened to a faint and hushed whisper. “What the fuck is that?” she uttered. 

Finnick whined and tucked his tail between his legs as he rushed to her side to hide under her chair.

“I invoke, conjure, and command…” Stopping her incantation, Pamela asked, “Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy.”

“Castiel?” Dean’s eyes were wide with nerves, knowing the destruction that came with this creature’s appearances.

“Its name.”

“I think we need to stop,” Riley told her with a shaky breath. “Pamela, it’s a warning--it’s warning you to stop.”

Ignoring the young hunter, the psychic went on, her voice like a threat or demand. “I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face.”

The white noise continued to drone on and the table began to shake violently. “Stop, Pamela!”

“I almost got it! I command you, show me your face! Show me your face now!” 

Suddenly, the candles flared up and grew several feet into the air. Pamela began to scream with terror on her face. Her eyes flew open and were filled with white-hot flames as her open mouth shrieked in fear and agony. 

The psychic collapsed as the fire in her eyes was snuffed out; the rattling, white noise and flaring candle flames dying out.

Bobby was able to move quickly and caught her as she fell before he gently lowered her to the floor. “Call 9-1-1!”

Sam scrambled out of his chair and into the next room as Riley and Dean crouched over Pamela and Bobby. She was conscious but bleeding from her eyes with large circles of charred skin encompassing them. 

As she opened her lids, the others jumped to see her eyes were gone, leaving only black empty sockets.

She sobbed. “I can't see! I can't see! Oh god!”

While she tried to tend to the injured woman on the floor, Riley turned to the sound of the whisper once more.

“...be ready.”

------

Season 4 Chapter 1: Lazarus Rising Part 2

Wayward Hearts Taglist: @waywardmoeyy @00slayer @adoptdontshoppets @arctusluna @salt-n-burn-em-all @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @becs-bunker @squirrelnotsam @x-waywardaf-x @death-unbecomes-you @themoonandotherslikeit @wndamaximov @flamencodiva @aaspiringhero @gemini0410 @love-nakamura @klinenovakwinchester @cemmia @deans-baby-momma @paintballkid711 @da5haexowin @a-manduhhhhh @winchestergirl82 @spnbaby-67 @sandycub @bunnybaby121115 @erins-culinary-service @lauravic @moonxdance @knights0fkylo @panicatthewestwing @screechingartisancashbailiff @wiredandwayward @the-children-of-the-stars @rosey1981 @mylovelydame21 @titty-teetee  @walkingchemicalfire @saaamsayshi​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @itsafreakingtouque​ @teddybeardoctorr​ @janndishsstuff​ @irelandsharpie​ @dracosassismine​

[bamby0304]

The Hart III: Secrets

Chapter One- Back Again

Series Masterlist

Summary: Three months… Dean was gone for three months and now he’s back. He’s back and he truly has no idea how much things have changed. Life moved on while Dean was in Hell, and now things are complicated. With new faces and troubles right around the corner, will the trio find a way to come back together? Or has all hope been lost?

Warnings: Angst. Slight violence. Fluff-ish. Drama.

DPOV

I remembered pain, torture, unspeakable horrors. Then I was awake...

Breathing heavily, I felt around until my hand landed on a lighter. Flicking it on, I used the flame to look around, finding myself in a tight, wooden box. A coffin. I was in coffin, in the ground, in my body. My real, completely alive and intact body.

"Help!" I tried to yell out, but my voice was too hoarse. I tried again. "Help! Help!" Lifting my fist, I pounded on the wood above my head.

Dirt rained down on my face, but I continued to pound on the wood. Pushing, hitting and doing everything I could until the wood broke and I could work on getting myself out of there.

Digging through the dirt, pulling myself up and out until I felt warmth on my hand. I didn't stop until I broke the surface.

Squinting against the bright light, taking a deep and needed breath, I grunted as I finished crawling out of the grave and on to the dry grassy ground.

Rolling onto my back I gave myself a moment to catch my breath before I got moving again. I couldn't waste time, I needed to figure out what was happening to me. Where I was. Why I was here, alive.

As I looked around I found myself in a field, a circle of dead trees laying on the ground around where I'd been buried, as if they'd been blasted by something powerful.

What the...?

I'd made it to a seemingly abandoned gas station. Reaching the door, I knocked on it and waited. "Hello?"

When there was no response, I pulled my shirt from my waist- the long sleeve, button up, green one which had been over my black top- wrapped it around my hand, and smashed the glass of the door with my fist.

Heading inside, I quickly grabbed some water from one of the fridges and began to drink, finishing it quickly. As I lowered the bottle from my lips, I noticed a newspaper that sat close by, seeing that the date was Thursday, September 18th.

I frowned. "'September'."

In the bathroom of the gas station, I washed my face as I tried to ignore the flashing memories in my mind. But there was one memory I couldn't ignore. The memory of how I died.

The Hellhounds had ripped me to shreds. Yet as I lifted my shirt, I found no scars or marks even hinting at what I'd been through.

A tingling sensation pulled my attention away from my chest and towards my left shoulder. Lowering my top, I reached for my sleeve, pulling it up to reveal a large, raw, red, scarred hand print brand.

What is going on?

With a plastic bag in hand, I grabbed food, and water, shoving it all in the bag. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get to Sam, or Bobby, or Liz. So I would need all the supplies I could get.

Moving around the shelves, I spotted a magazine. Busty Asian Beauties. Smirking, I lifted the magazine and began to flick through it quickly before stuffing it in with the rest of my supplies.

Heading over to the counter, I set the bag down and opened the register to take all the money. As I looted the register, the TV to my left flicked on, though the screen only showed static.

Cautiously, I reached over to turn the TV off, hoping that it had just been something wrong with the wiring. The radio turned on the moment the TV turned off. I stepped closer to turn that off as well, but as I did the TV flicked back on.

Not wasting a moment, I hurried towards another shelf where I grabbed a carton of salt. Opening it, I moved to a window and began to pour, working as quickly as I could.

But before long, a high-pitched noise began to ring, distracting me. I tried to ignore it but the louder it got the more it began to hurt.

Groaning, I clutched my ear, hoping to block to sound out as I continued to try and pour a line of salt. But it was hopeless. The noise got louder and more painful, eventually I had to let the salt go and clutch both of my ears as I fell to the ground in pain.

The window above my head shattered as the sound kept ringing. I got to my feet as quickly as I could, moving for the door, needing to get out of there. More glass smashed, causing me to drop to the floor again, and cover my ears and face to protect myself.

A second later, the noise suddenly stopped.

Groaning, I pulled myself up and stepped to the window, looking around to see if what had just done all of that was outside. But there was nothing. I was alone.

In the phone booth, I put in some money and pressed in Sam's number, only to be met by an automated voice telling me the number had been disconnected. When I entered Liz's number she didn't pick up and I was left with her voice mail- though, I didn't leave a message because I wasn't exactly sure what to say.

That left Bobby.

Putting in more money, I dialled his number and let it ring as I waited. Lucky for me, it rang twice before there was an answer.

"Yeah?"

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"It's me."

"Who's 'me'?"

"Dean."

The dial tone followed me. He'd hung up.

Sighing, I hung up as well and dialled again.

"Who is this?"

"Bobby, listen to me-"

"This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya." With that, he hung up.

I knew better than to test him. If he was going to believe me then I needed to show him in person.

Looking around, I spotted an old, beat-up white car parked outside. My mood lifted as I left the phone booth and walked over to the car, thankful I knew how to hot-wire because there was no way I was walking all the way to Bobby's.

I pounded my fist on the door in front of me. A moment later, the door opened, revealing Bobby as he stood in his hallway, looking at me suspiciously.

Me on the other hand, I was a little out of breath, slightly apprehensive and completely aware of the fact that I was risking my life showing up like this when I was supposed to be dead. Bobby was a well-trained hunter that knew about a dozen things that could make themselves look like me.

Still, I smiled. "Surprise."

"I- I don't-"

"Yeah, me neither." I nodded, carefully stepping into the house. "But here I am."

I saw him move first.

Bobby pulled a knife out from behind me and lunged forward, slashing out at me. I grabbed his arm and twisted it around, trying to make Bobby let go of the knife. He fought against my grip, pulling himself away from me before backhanding me in the face.

I stumbled back into his office, recovering as quickly as I could. "Bobby! It's me!"

"My ass!" His grip on the knife was tight and ready.

I shoved a chair between us, holding my hands out. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and... you're about the closest thing I have to a father." I hoped that would convince him. "Bobby. It's me."

He lowered the knife and stepped forward slowly, pulling the chair away. Cautiously, I lifted his free hand and rested it on my shoulder. I honestly thought I'd gotten to him, that he understood and believed.

But once again, he lifted the knife and slashed out at me.

I grabbed him again, this time getting his arm behind his back so I could take the knife away from him. "I am not a shapeshifter!" I insisted, back us up into the kitchen.

"Then you're a Revenant!"

I shoved him away and held out the knife in front of me. "Alright. If I was either, could I do this, with a silver knife?" Rolling up my sleeve, I grimaced as I used the knife to slice my forearm causing a line of blood to appear.

Bobby's eyes went wide. "Dean?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

He reached forward suddenly, only this time it was to pull me in for a tight hug. I hugged him back, finally taking a breath and relaxing. He believed me.

"It's..." He pulled away. "It's good to see you, boy."

"Yeah, you too."

"But... how did you bust out?"

"I don't know." I shook my head and turned away for a moment, putting the knife down on the dining table. "I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine bo-" As I looked back at Bobby I was cut off by the holy water he threw at my face. Looking away, I spat some of the water out. "I'm not a demon either, you know."

He shrugged. "Sorry. Can't be too careful." Reaching over, he grabbed a towel for me to wipe my face before he started for the office. "But... that don't make a lick of sense."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're preachin' to the choir."

Standing behind his desk, he turned to face me, shaking his head. "Dean. Your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop. And you've been buried four months. Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit-"

I cut him off, nodding, knowing where he was going. "I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject."

"What do you remember?"

"Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it." As he sat, I went on, "Sam's number's not working. He's, uh... he's not..."

"Oh, he's alive," he assured me. "As far as I know."

"Good... wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?"

Bobby shook his head, sighing. "I haven't talked to him for months. Lizzie doesn't stick around much either."

"You're kidding, you just let them go off by themselves?"

"No." He looked up at me. "I didn't let Sam do anything. He was dead set on it. And as for Lizzie... well, she comes and goes like she used to. Meets up with Sam a lot. Hunts on her own. Either way, I got no control over what those two do. I tried. These last months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For Sam, Lizzie or me. We had to bury you."

"Why did you bury me, anyway?"

"I wanted you salted and burned. Usual drill. Lizzie... she wasn't really in the right mind set to know what she wanted. But... Sam wouldn't have it."

"Well, I'm glad he won that one."

"He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow. That's about all he said."

Suddenly I was suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"He was quiet. Real quiet. And then he just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found. At least by anyone other than Lizzie. She always knows where he is. Won't tell anyone though."

"Oh, damnit, Sammy." I sighed, shaking my head.

"What?"

"Oh, he got me home okay. But whatever he did, it is bad mojo."

"What makes you so sure?"

"You should have seen the grave site. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this... this force, this presence, I don't know, but it, it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this." I pulled the sleeve of my top up, showing him the branded hand print on my arm.

Bobby stood and leaned forward to get a better look at it. "What in the hell?"

"It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out."

"But why?"

"To hold up their end of the bargain."

"You think Sam made a deal."

"It's what I would have done," I noted. "We gotta find him. You know where Liz is? If she knows I'm back maybe she'll help us."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, I know where she is." Walking around his desk, he started for the front door. "Follow me."

Walking through the yard of broken down cars, following the sound of an ACDC song playing. Walking around the corner I paused in my tracks at the sight before me. I'd almost forgotten how breath-taking Liz had been.

She was leaning into the hood of her dark cherry red 1969 Chevy Camaro. Red leather jacket hanging over the open door, white tee dirty from all the work, torn dark jeans, black worn boots, her long golden wavy hair falling around her. Body as beautiful as ever. Long legs, curves in all the right places…

"Wow..."

She paused, having heard me. Slowly she turned, her grip on the wrench in her hand tightening as she looked me up and down, glaring, her mind working through all the things I might be and all the ways she could kill those types of monsters.

"Lizzie, it's really Dean," Bobby assured her, seeing her getting ready to attack.

She didn't look away from me, her gaze never softening as she spoke. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Just like that, she dropped the wrench as a smile broke out on her face. Running towards me, I didn't have much time to react before she jumped and wrapped me up into a hug, her thighs around my waist and her arms around my neck.

It took a moment, but after a second or two I recovered, wrapping my arms around her to return the hug.

She smelt amazing. Felt amazing. She was all the memories I'd tried to hold on to and so much more. Nothing compared to the real thing, and now that I had her back I was never letting her go again.

EPOV

"Yeah, I know where Sam is. But I mean... I don't know exactly where he is." I stood in Bobby's office with him and Dean, explaining why I wasn't much help. "He asked for a little space. Said he needed to do somethings and that he'd call me when he's done."

"Well, he's done," Dean sighed.

I frowned at him, confused. "What are you talking about?" When he gave me a pointed look, I understood what he meant. "You think Sam brought you back?"

He shrugged. "Only thing that makes sense."

"No." I shook my head. "Sam... if he was planning on bringing you back he would have included me in his plans. We promised each other."

Turning my gaze to the floor I remembered the moment the two of us agreed that despite the fact Dean was gone, we would still stay in contact and hunt together. Things were hard and sometimes both of us had needed to go our separate ways. But we always went back to each other. He was my best friend, I couldn't lose him like we'd lost Dean.

In the four months he'd been gone, my whole life had turned upside down. Losing Dean had nearly killed me. For the first month or two I fell into a deep depression. Sam and I went around offering any demon anything they wanted in the hopes they'd bring Dean back. None of them did.

Once we figured out no one was going to help us, Sam and I dived into hunting. I spent a lot of that time on my own when I wasn't with Sam. Bobby hated it when I was by myself, but I couldn't let myself get close to anyone. I couldn't watch anyone else die. So I shut myself out.

But that was just for the first couple of months or so. Things changed after that...

Dean sighed. "Liz, please. Just tell us the town and we'll figure out the rest."

"Fine." I took a deep breath, knowing how they were going to react to what I said next, "Sam's in Pontiac, Illinois."

Bobby's eyes went wide as he looked up at Dean. "Right near where you were planted."

"Right where I popped up. Hell of a coincidence, don't you think?" Pulling out his phone, Dean shook his head as he punched in a number. "Yeah, hi, I have a cell phone account with you guys, and uh, I lost my phone. I was wondering if you could turn the GPS on for me." He nodded. "Yeah. Name's Wedge Antilles. Social is 2-4-7-4." There was a slight pause before he nodded again. "Thank you."

Bobby watched him as Dean hung up and moved to sit in front of the compute on the desk. "How'd you know he'd use that name?"

Dean scoffed. "You kiddin' me? What don't I know about that kid?" As he opened up the website to get the details of Sam's location, he looked at the various bottles on the desk and around the room. "Hey, Bobby? What's the deal with the liquor store? What, are your parents out of town or something?"

Bobby looked to me with guilt and understanding in his eyes as he answered. "Like I said. Last few months ain't been all that easy."

Truth is, yeah most of the bottles were Bobby's. But in the first few months I'd emptied my fair share. I'd decided all my problems could be fixed by getting to the bottom of every drink I had.

DPOV

Reaching the door of room 207, I lifted my fist to knock on the wood as Liz and Bobby stood with me, waiting. Liz was leaning on the frame, looking a little anxious. It was odd. I was so used to her being confident and ready for action. Seeing her like this, I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something.

The door opened, revealing a hot, young brunette dressed in only a tank top and underwear.

She looked to the three of us expectantly. "So, where is it?"

I looked to Bobby and Liz confused, before turning back to the woman. "Where's what?"

"The pizza," she answered as if it were obvious. "That takes three people to deliver?"

Checking the number on the door again, my confusion grew. "I think we got the wrong room."

"Hey, is-"

From behind the girl, Sam walked into the room and out of the bathroom. He came to a stop at the sight of the four of us at the door. But it was me that held his attention.

A small smile grew on my lips as I looked to my little brother, having never felt this happy in my life. "Heya, Sammy."

He didn't say anything or move as I stepped into the room. The hot chick moved aside so I could get in further, getting closer to Sam. When I was a step or two away from him, he finally reacted- though not the way I'd been hoping.

Pulling out a knife, he lunged at me.

The girl screamed as he pushed me against the wall. I struggled and fought against him, trying to keep the knife from getting to me. Liz and Bobby acted fast, grabbing and pulling Sam away from me.

"Who are you?!" Sam yelled at me, struggling against Bobby and Liz.

"Like you didn't do this?!"

"Do what?!"

"It's him," Bobby assured him. "It's him. I've been through this already, it's really him."

Sam stared at me, slowly and eventually calming down. "What...?"

Being careful and cautious, I moved closer to him. "I know. I look fantastic, huh?"

Seeing that Sam was no longer ready to kill me, Bobby and Liz let him go. Once he was free, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug that we held for a few extra seconds. We both needed this, to feel that the other was alive and well.

Pulling away, Sam looked to me with tears in his eyes, relieved.

"So, are you two like... together?"

Sam frowned as he looked to the hot chick, remembering that she was in the room. "What? No." He grinned lightly as I gave her a confused and offended look. "No. He's my brother."

"Uh... got it. I... I guess. Look, I should probably go." She gestured to the door.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Sorry."

EPOV

You have no idea how hard it was not to say anything. I was not an idiot. Sam and I had hunted many times together over the last four months. I saw him at least once every week. I knew what was happening in his life.

Just like I knew that the girl he was escorting to the door right now, the hot chick with dark brown curls, she was not just some random chick he'd picked up. No. I knew exactly who and what she was.

Ruby.

But something told me Sam wouldn't want Dean to know, not just yet. So I was willing to keep quiet. Just like I knew Sam was going to do the same for me. We both had a few secrets these days.

Now dressed in a white button-down shirt, Sam opened the door to let Ruby out, the two of them pretending like they didn't know each other.

Once out of the room, she turned to him with a sweet look in her eyes. "So, call me."

"Yeah." He didn't sound too convincing, which was the point. "Yeah, sure thing, Kathy."

Her face fell in disappointment. "Kristy."

"Right."

Looking hurt and rejected, she turned and left a moment before Sam closed the door and came to join us by the couch.

Dean stood close to where Sam sat, looking down at his brother disapprovingly and suspiciously. "So tell me, what'd it cost?"

Sam chuckled. "The girl? I don't pay, Dean."

Dean wasn't laughing. "That's not funny, Sam. To bring me back. What'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?"

Just like that, Sam understood what Dean was saying. "You think I made a deal?"

"That's exactly what we think," Bobby answered.

"I just wanna point out that I don't think this," I gestured to Dean, "was your doing."

"She's right." Sam nodded. "I didn't do anything."

"Don't lie to me," Dean said it so simply and straight forward, but there were emotions behind his words, and an underlining warning.

"I'm not lying," Sam insisted.

Pushing off the wall, Dean stepped up to Sam. "So what now, I'm off the hook and you're on, is that it? You're some demon's bitch boy? I didn't want to be saved like this."

Getting just as frustrated and upset as his brother, Sam stood. "Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, all right?"

Dean suddenly grabbed the front of Sam's shirt. "There's no other way that this could have gone down. Now tell the truth!"

Pushing Dean away, Sam snapped. "I tried everything! That's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right? You were rotting in Hell for months. For months, and I couldn't stop it. So, I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right? Dean, I'm sorry."

Seeing the look in his brother's eyes, Dean realised that Sam really was telling the truth, and that he felt so guilty about it all. "It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologise, I believe you."

"Don't get me wrong," Bobby chimed in. "I'm gladdened that Sam's soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question."

Dean nodded. "If he didn't pull me out, then what did?"

SPOV

I handed Bobby, Dean and Lizzie a beer each. Bobby and Lizzie were sitting on the couch, while Dean sat on the coffee table facing my chair which I moved to sit on.

"So, what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?" Dean asked, cracking his beer open.

"Well, once I figured out I couldn't save you, I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback," I answered honestly, with a shrug.

There was no point in lying to Dean. But at the same time, there was no way I was telling him everything. Looking over at Lizzie briefly, I trusted she would do the same. The two of us had secrets now, and there was no way Dean- or even Bobby- was ready to hear them.

"All by yourself." Bobby didn't sound very happy. "Who do you think you are, your old man?"

Lizzie turned to him. "Bobby, Sam's just as capable as I am, and I go out on my own all the time as well."

"Yeah, well, I don't like that either," Bobby mumbled, taking a drink of his beer.

Dean frowned as he noticed something and got up to check it out.

Ignoring my brother, I kept my attention on the old man. "I'm sorry, Bobby. I should have called. I was pretty messed up."

"Oh yeah," Dean spoke up, turning to show us the pink bra he'd just found on the floor of my room. "I really feel your pain."

I scoffed lightly. "Anyways, uh, I was checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left, booked up here."

"When?" Dean asked, taking a seat next to me.

"Yesterday morning."

"When I busted out."

Bobby looked to Dean. "You think these demons are here 'cause of you?"

"But why?" I frowned.

"Well, I don't know... some badass demon drags me out and now this?" Dean shook his head. "It's gotta be connected somehow."

"How you feelin', anyway?" Bobby asked, watching him carefully.

Dean shrugged. "I'm a little hungry."

"No, I mean, do you feel like yourself? Anything strange, or different?"

"Or demonic?" Dean finished for him. "Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I'm me?"

"Yeah. Well, listen. No demon's letting you loose out of the goodness of their hearts. They've gotta have something nasty planned." Bobby had a point.

"Well, I feel fine," Dean insisted.

Changing the subject, I spoke up. "Okay, look, we don't know what they're planning. We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help."

"I know a psychic," Bobby suggested. "A few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking."

"We're going." Lizzie stood up, leaving no room for discussion.

"Okay then." Bobby got to his feet as well, gesturing to the door. "I'll be right back"

As he moved to leave, Dean got up as well, him and Lizzie stepping around the follow Bobby. Lizzie left, but before Dean could get far, I stopped him.

"Hey, wait." Standing, I reached into my shirt. "You probably want this back." Pulling out the necklace I was wearing, I showed Dean that it was the necklace I'd given to him years ago.

He looked down at it as I placed it in the palm of his hand. "Thanks."

"Yeah, don't mention it." I shrugged, watching as he put it on. "Hey Dean, what was it like?"

"What, Hell?" He looked up at me. "I don't know, I- I must have blacked it out. I don't remember a damn thing."

"Well, thank God for that."

"Yeah."

DPOV

"She's about four hours down the Interstate." Bobby told us as he led us down some stairs to the parking lot before moving to his car. "Try to keep up."

I gave him a simple nod as Sam, Liz and I moved further down the lot.

"I assume you'll want to drive." Sam pulled keys out of his pocket and tossed them at me.

I caught them effortlessly, chuckling. "Oh, I almost forgot!" As we reached Baby, I ran my hand over her lovingly. "Hey, sweetheart, did you miss me?"

Getting into the driver's seat, I was just about to settle in when I spotted something plugged into the stereo. Pausing, I gave it a look as Sam and Liz got in the car- Sam next to me and Liz in the back.

"What the hell is that?" I glared at my brother.

"That's an iPod jack."

"You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up."

"Dean, I thought it was my car."

I sneered and sighed, turning the ignition on. As the car roared to life Vision by Jason Manns began to play. Rolling my eyes, I glared at Sam again. "Really?"

He just shrugged as Liz chuckled lightly. Reaching forward, I ripped the iPod out of the jack and tossed it in the back seat before I drove off, reminding myself to never leave my Baby with Sam again.

EPOV

Sitting in the back of the Impala, feeling her vibrate under me as she roared, looking out the window at the starry night sky, turning to the brothers in the front seat. I felt good. I felt amazing. You have no idea how good I felt, how happy I was. My life was finally looking bright. I had friends, family, Dean. Everything was falling into place.

"There's still one thing that's bothering me," Dean spoke up.

"Yeah?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, the night that I bit it. Or... got bit." Dean chuckled at his own joke. "How'd the two of you make it out? I thought Lilith was going to kill you both."

"Well, she tried," Sam admitted. "She couldn't."

His answer had Dean frowning. "What do you mean, she couldn't?"

Sam shrugged. "She fired this, like, burning light at us, and... didn't leave a scratch. Like we were immune or something."

"Immune?"

"Mm-hmm," I chimed in. "You should have seen her face."

"Yeah." Sam grinned lightly. "I don't know who was more surprised, her or us. She left pretty fast after that."

"Huh. What about Ruby, where is she?"

"Dead. For now," Sam lied.

There was a moment of hesitation before Dean spoke again. "So, you've been using your, uh, freaky ESP stuff?" he asked, looking to his brother and then to me briefly.

"No," another lie from Sam, but I wasn't going to say a thing.

"You sure about that?" Dean pressed. "Well, I mean, now that you've got... immunity, whatever the hell that is... just wondering what other kind of weirdo crap you've got going on."

"Nothing, Dean. Look, you didn't want me to go down that road, so I didn't go down that road. It was practically your dying wish."

"Yeah, well, let's keep it that way." Dean gave a short nod before looking to me through the rear-view mirror. "What about you? You still moving things with your mind?"

"Yes." I shrugged. "But that shouldn't be a surprise. I used it before."

The look on his face told me he didn't approve. I knew he wouldn't. But that didn't mean I was going to stop.

Bamby

[theskeletongames]

Looks like we got eathother for the @ @undertailsecretsanta this time @peanutable

You asked for some Underswap Undyrus, so I shall deliver it!

Floundering at the lab...

Papyrus checks his phone one last time before looking up at the massive concrete building. Yep… back here again… Though he shouldn’t be surprised. A new Royal scientist had just been announced yesterday. Guess they saw his name all over everything in the files. He can hide a lot of things, but he can’t hide that.

Papyrus sighs out. The immense building almost seeming to loom in front of him. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to ever come back here, but a summons from the Royal scientist wasn’t something he could ignore.

Papyrus breathes out again, before walking up to the heavy metal doors. The’re gonna want answers… answers he can’t give… He’s not really sure what can be said. Nobody remembers the former scientist. Even he hardly remembers.

Welp… he’ll just have to do his best and deflect as many questions…

Papyrus takes one last breath, before stepping on the metal door pad. Listening to the familiar hiss as the lab doors open, he walks inside.

The hallway is dark on the inside. Huh…? He could have sworn the place use to be lighter. He lingers in the darkness for a moment, listening to the doors hiss shut behind him. The lab is quiet. The only sound, a static hum from somewhere in the background.

“Uh… h-hello!” Papyrus calls.

His voice echoes through the hall, but otherwise, there’s no answer.

“I-I’m here.”

Still no answer.

Papyrus waits a moment more, feeling the sweat collect across his skull as he stands in the darkness.

Wh-Where’s the new scientist? They just called him over… shouldn’t they be… waiting for him.

Papyrus shifts awkwardly in the dark hallway. This scientist was supposed to be brilliant. Somehow, they’d managed to outfit an inanimate object with a soul. Something he would have never dreamed of possible. He had to admit... he felt a little apprehensive. They was leagues ahead of anything he’d ever done. Soul technology was advanced stuff!

And now he’s standing in a darkened hallway waiting for a genius at monster soul science to come meet him. His soul hums with nervousness as he waits. Listening to the whirring of the machines in the background.

Another minute passes, and yet still he stands in the hallway…

M-Maybe he should come back at another time…

Papyrus reaches into his pocket, gingerly gripping his phone.

Maybe they’re busy...

“Um… I can come back if now’s a bad time…!”

His voice simply echoes off the dark hallway.

Papyrus feels his sweat starting to chill. Maybe he should leave. This is too creepy. Where is the scientist?! They should be here. Is something wrong! He got their message several minutes ago, why aren’t they here!

...They could… be in the basement…

That was an option…

But the place was outfitted with cameras, they should have seen him enter!

What if… what if something had gone wrong?

More sweat builds on Papyrus’s skull.

There’s a lot of things left in that basement, what if… Oh stars! What if they didn’t know what it was and activated it on accident!

Papyrus feels his hands tighten in his pockets.

He’s…. He’s gotta check. He can’t leave! He’s gotta make sure.

His legs are moving down the dark hall before he realizes what he’s doing. He’s gotta get down there! He hurries through the hall, and into the main lobby. An enormous TV lights the room. A strange high pitched song carries lightly from the speakers. Some sort of strange human drawings are dancing across the screen.

What’s going on! Why did they leave this on! Papyrus walks past the tv, heading for the hidden elevator. He’s got to check!... got to make sure!

“Maaaaaaah! Kill me already please!!!”

Papyrus stops in his tracks.

“Oh god! Everything hurts! Why did this have to happen!!!”

Papyrus slowly turns his skull… Th-that voice… It sounds like something horrible is happening!

And then he spotts it. Sitting in the center of the room is a large dark lump huddled pathetically in the light of the tv. Surrounded by huge blankets, the lump shakes ever so slightly.

Papyrus watches it for a moment, carefully… What… what’s going on?

He approaches cautiously, his light feet nearly silent on the smooth tiled floor. The lump in front of him shakes some more, and then a strange sound flows from it. Loud slurping and smacking as though someone or something’s being eaten.

“Seriously! This is torture! Uahhhhhhh! I wanna dust so bad!”

Papyrus gets closer to the dark lump, watching it from behind. There’s something horrible going on inside it! Someone’s getting eaten!

Oh stars! Maybe he should call for help! But what if help doesn't make it in time…

“That’s it! I’m dusting… I don’t even wanna live on this planet anymore…”

They’re dying! He’s gotta help them!

Gathering all his courage, Papyrus reaches down, and in one heavy motion, rips the blanket off the lump, exposing the vile creature within!

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

“GAAAAHHHHHH!”

‘HAHHHHHHHHHH!”

Screams ring through the air as two monsters stare at each other in horror.

The lump of cloth was actually a blanket. It’s currently wrapped around a tall gangly monster. Covered in blue iridescent scales, her face lined in fins, she gapes at Papyrus. Her yellow slitted eyes widen in surprise, the glasses over them flashing against the light of the TV. Wet noodles drip down her sharp teeth as she stares up at him from the floor. Small tears glistening in the corner of her eyes.

“Hah...?!!!” Is all she manages to mutter out. It echoes emptily around the dark room as she stares at him from the floor.

Papyrus is taken aback. He thought someone was being attacked, or dying… But this monster was only sitting under the blanket eating noodles…! Well… there were tears in her eyes.

“Uh… hi?” He says awkwardly, watching her eyes expand further. A tinge of red beginning to build across her face. “Name’s Papyrus… I-I uh… got a message from the Royal Scientist earlier… summoning me to the lab?”

Realization passes the fish monsters features. She seems to get ahold of herself, finally noticing Papyrus is still holding a part of the blanket, exposing what she’s wearing underneath.

Bright colorful pajamas covered in some sort of strange drawings….

“O-Oh my god!” The other monster shouts, pulling the blanket out of his grasp and burying herself back inside it. “I-I didn’t expect you to show up so soon… I haven’t showered... I haven’t dressed… a-and everything’s still… a-a mess!”

As she says this, Papyrus notices a large collection of cups strewn about the floor at her feet. Several of them still containing small chunks of noodles or oily soup remains.

She struggles to stand, knocking over a half filled cup of noodles in the process.

“Um… h-h-hiya… I-I’m Dr. Undye…” She says, getting to her feet. “The… uh… n-new royal scientist… hahaha…” She laughs nervously.

This is the new Royal scientist? A master of soul technology? Papyrus feels himself struggling to suppress a chuckle as he watches her. Well… not like this invalidates her skills.

He takes note, that even in her hunched state, she’s still an inch or so taller than him. But what he wasn’t expecting was her bright red hair… It hangs off her head messily, drooping down past her waist.

“Y-Ya should’a said something at the door!” She says, trying to gather up some of the empty cups in her arms, causing several of them to spin wildly across the tile.

Papyrus watches the display, feeling himself start to chuckle. Can’t believe he was feeling scared… He’s glad nothing bad was happening to the other monster… Actually… what was she crying about earlier?

His sockets roam to the only light source in the room. A large TV. The colorful show continues to play across it’s screen, displaying strange looking humans talking in high pitched voices.

“I called a skeleton of times ya know…” He says lazily, feeling himself sink back into a relaxed state as he talks more and more with the other monster. He can’t believe he was panicking so hard earlier.

“Uh… r-right… s-sorry… sorry… guess I didn’t hear ya…” Undyne says, missing the joke completely as she attempts to stack the empty cups on top of an already full trash.

“Don’t worry… it’s kinda adoorable… makin’ me wait there like that.”

The cups fall from Undynes grasp. Her face brightening in the darkness as she slowly turns around.

“A-A-Adorable!?”

Papyrus smirks… This monster’s actually kinda…

“You know…” He says lazily, pointing a slim bony finger behind himself. “Cause’a the door?”

“R-Right!” She says, adjusting her glasses… “R-Right… A-A-Anyway… I-I’m sure you're wondering why I called you here…?”

Papyrus shrugs. “I’m guessing you saw my name while you were fishing around.”

Undyne pauses… looking at him. “D-Did you just…?”

“Don’t mean to be koi with you but… guess you can’t get much skeledone without me.”

“A-Are you really…?”

“Just let minnow what ya need and I see what I can do…”

Undyne’s mouth is dropping further and further as she listens to the skeleton. Was he really telling puns! Right after they’d met!

Her face starts to change color as she watches him smirk. H-How can he just… really!

“Guess these puns are a little too kray-z for ya if I haven’t got ya kraken up yet?”

“Huh!” Is all Undyne manges to squeak out. She seems a little overwhelmed by what he’s been saying. Instead of being able to respond, she simply looks at him blankly.

“Anyway…” Papyrus’s sockets scan over the TV. “What are you watchin’ thats got’cha whale-ing so hard.”

The fish monster’s face completely reddens.

“I-I wasn’t… Oh my god! I-I was just” She begins to presses her webbed index fingers together, her face slowly getting redder. “W-Well you see! I was watching the second season of Mew Mew Kissie Cutie… A-An anime about a human girl with cat ears who fights m-monsters-... uh… bad guys… The first season was amazing fuhuhuhuh!” She laughs loudly, her face brightening. “But this second season… it was neither kissie nor cutie! The story doesn’t make any sense! The plotline is trash! They completely changed Cuties’ character! You can’t change Cuties’ character!” Undyne starts growling. “Why don’t we just dump the entire first season off a cliff and pretend nothing even happened! Why did they even bother to make it if they aren’t gonna continue the original plotline! How could they do that! Oh my god! I’m so angry! They can’t just change the entire thing like that! They can’t just-”

“Snirk.”

Papyrus starts laughing on the spot, watching as the tall fish monster quickly changes her entire demeanor once she’s realized what she’s been doing.

“I-I… I mean… I was j-just a little angry that my favorite show was... Uh… r-ruined…” She says sheepishly, her yellow eyes dropping to the floor as color floods her face. “N-Nothing to… w-worry about.”

“So what your sayin’ is the new season’s got ya feline down.”

“Oh my god! How do you keep coming up with these!”

“Heh…” Papyrus slides his hands lazily into his pockets, his hooded sockets looking Undyne up and down. “Can’t help it if I’m purrfect.”

Undynes face somehow manages to glow even redder. Has the lab always felt this hot! Why is it so hot!

“I-I meant at telling puns!” Papyrus shouts, realizing what he’d implied.

“R-Right!” Undyne agrees! “P-Puns! Fuhahaha…” She laughs nervously.

The room is suddenly very quiet.

The silence is broken by Papyrus’s phone ringing loudly in his pocket. He looks at the caller id and sighs in relief. Nothing like a great older bro when you need one! Then he answers the phone.

“Sup bro.”

“PAPYRUS! YOU’RE LATE! WHERE ARE YOU!” The loud low voice of his brother calls through the phone.

“Floundering around at the new Dr’s.”

“YOU’RE WHERE!?!”

“I got called over by the new Royal scientist...”

��WHAT! BUT YOUR SHIFT STARTED OVER 5 MINUTES AGO!”

“Guess I’m gonna have ta leave it for salmon else.”

“...” His brother doesn’t respond.

“Bro?” Papyrus asks in his silence.

“PAPYRUS...WHY ARE YOU TELLING FISH PUNS…?” His brother’s voice asks.

Papyrus’s eyes snap to Undyne’s, realizing what he’s been doing the whole time.

“Uh...huh… The uh… heh… New Dr… sh-she’s uh.”

“SHE!”

“Yeah she’s-”

“WOWIE! YOU’RE ON A DATE WITH A GIRL!”

“What NO!” Papyrus shouts.

“MWEH HEH HEH! DO NOT MIND YOUR SHIFT THEN BOTHER! I WILL ALWAYS HAVE YOUR BACK IN ANY AND ALL MANNERS INVOLVING YOUR LOVELIFE! WORRY NOT LITTLE BRO, FOR I AM THE GREATEST WINGMAN IN ALL OF THE UNDERGROUND! FEEL FREE TO TAKE YOUR TIME WITH YOUR NEW SPECIAL FRIEND!”

“Sans no!”

“SANS YES! I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!”

And then the line goes dead.

Papyrus slowly lets his hand fall with his phone. His hollow sockets turning to look at the only other person in the room.

“Uh…”

Her face is about a red as it could possibly get.

He’s really drowning in it this time….

[notreallyuseless]

Who’s left to trust (Part 6)

Previous [x] /// Next [x]

Chase fell down the bed and knocked his head on the floor after being pushed by Marvin’s magic. The magician shrieked and scrambled away from whoever the other person was in front of him and twisted the door handle furiously, cursing under his breath.  His ears couldn’t focus on any sound but the rattling of the handle. But he was freaking out so much, he couldn’t get this damn thing to open. He tried using his magic again and again but he didn’t have enough confidence in it for it to work. Tears rolled down his face and he kept pleading the door to open. He heard the other get up and if he was desperately trying to open the door before, he was even more desperate now. He finally got a grip on the handle and tried to sling the door open before it being slammed shut right before his nose. He felt a hot breath ghosting on his neck.

“Did you really think your little magic trick would work on me?”

Marvin whirled around and push “Chase” away with both of his hand, hoping his magic would throw him at the opposite wall. His wrists were gripped before he could even touch the stranger’s chest. His eyes were focused on the hands around his wrists, the hands he remembered touching his shoulders in an encouraging manner, seeing clapping together to show how excited his friend was after one of his magic tricks. He scrunched up his eyes, trying to tell himself he was in danger, that those hands weren’t his friend, he had to remove himself from here and get help.  He felt a small tug and his trembling hand came into contact with fabric. Confused, he opened his eyes and looked up at the monster’s eyes, that were closer than he felt comfortable with. He could hardly see anything else but its emotionless face. It looked exactly like Chase, every detail reminded him of Chase, if you took the life out of him. He tried withdrawing his hands but the grip around them got tighter. He could feel his nails digging into the flesh of the being before him. But he couldn’t avert his eyes away from the greenish one. A malicious smile formed itself on the man’s cheeks.

“Come on Marvin, you looked so happy earlier to see me.”

Marvin shot up his bed and backed away into his dresser, knocking down some of his outfit, trying to get as far away from whatever happened as possible. It was another nightmare. The same nightmare. How many did he had recently? What was a nightmare? What was reality? Since Chase came back, Marvin had nightmare after nightmare every night. He was always restless, he never had a moment to relax, to think straight. He put on some clothes, the baggiest he could find because he didn’t care anymore. He wouldn’t leave the house today anyway, nor did he the days before. He just hoped that the real Chase was back. He pulled the sleeves of the hoodie he was wearing over his hands, wishing to forget the marks on them, and turned the handle of the door before rushing out of his room. He had to see Henrik. It had been a while since he last saw him. After he left them to go sleep, Marvin hadn’t seen the doctor. He remembered walking in front of the door multiple times, but he never dared disturbed Henrik’s sleep. If someone needed sleep in this house, it was him. He was always up at outrageous hours, spending most of his time tending Jackie’s wounds or reading about medical articles. But he never stayed in his room for days on end, which he did right now.

He knocked on the door and listened cautiously for any sign of the doctor stirring up in his sleep. The only thing he could hear was the static of the old TV. It was strange for Marvin since Henrik was scared of letting the TV on too long, in case it took on fire.  He knocked harder, probably waking up Jamie that lived right next to the doctor’s office. But Marvin didn’t care right now. Something wasn’t right, once again. Henrik wasn’t a heavy-sleeper so the noise he was doing right now would have woken up the doctor. He was about to scream when a hand plastered itself unto his mouth. He tried to fight back, punching blindly behind him, hoping to give a good hit on the other. A second hand snaked itself unto his waist and lifted him up the floor. Marvin tried wiggling his way out of the arms around him, but he was weaker than the person behind him. He could feel nails on his stomach making scratches because of his erratic movement.

“Marvin! Stop squirming!”

He opened his eyes widely and sat up on his bed, knocking his forehead with someone else. He bent over himself, rubbing his forehead because of the pain and maybe because of the relentless nightmares he had. He could faintly hear Jackie cussing under his breath and telling himself that he should start wearing a metal piece on his forehead for the number of time he hits that part.

“What is going on Jackie?”

“Jamie woke me up because you kept screaming for help. He thought you were in danger, so he came to get me to bash open the door...”, said Jackie while pointing at the door that had a hole instead of the dreaded door handle. At least Marvin would stop dreaming of him fighting with it.

“I’m sorry, Jackie. I still have nightmares from time to time...”

“From time to time? Marvin, you went to sleep hours ago, and I had to wake you up at every hour because you kept screaming. Are you really OK?”

He shied away from Jackie, focusing on his covered-up feet. It was worse than he thought. He mumbled a sorry to Jackie and promised him he’d buy him a coffee or something to make up for it. The hero smiled down at Marvin and patted his shoulder gently, knowing that he’ll cheer up a little bit.

“Come on, Chase wanted to know if we made any progress on the ‘Jack in a coma’ situation. We’re meeting in the kitchen in like, fifteen minutes.”

“...Will Henrik be there? I haven’t seen him in days.”

At these words, Jackie looked up in Marvin’s eyes. He seemed worried, why would he be. Marvin was only asking him if Henrik would be there. He could see a glint of sadness and fear in Jackie’s eyes. The hero shook his head and looked down at his hand. What was happening?

“Marvin...what are you saying? You saw Schneeplestein yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

“No? He went to sleep after Chase came back and haven’t left his room since! It’s been days, right?”

Marvin glanced down at Jackie’s hands. He was tightening them into fists, like he was trying to contain himself.

“Marvin...Chase came back yesterday.”

He couldn’t understand. He was sure that Chase came back a few days ago. Was everything that happened to him just a dream? A sick dream? He couldn’t understand, everything seemed real. The person gripping him from behind, Henrik missing, “Chase” attacking him. He tugged his sleeves up, looking for the bruises that were on his wrists. But there was nothing. He was going insane.

“Marvin are you sure you’re OK?”, asked Jackie, worried.

“Yeah, I am. I’m sorry. I just woke up, so my mind is a little fuzzy, I guess. I’ll meet you guys there. I just have to freshen up a bit.”

The fear and sadness in Jackie’s eyes was replaced by relief and he left Marvin alone after his demand. When the door was close, the best it could be anymore anyway, Marvin rested his head on his hands. There was no doubt. He was really going insane.

A couple of minutes later, the magician entered the kitchen feeling a little bit better, even if the thought of his mind going in shamble was still scary for him. He tried to keep his breathing in control, like Henrik taught him to do while he was having a panic attack. He sat down at the table, next to Jackie because even if everything was a dream, or so, he still didn’t trust Chase enough. Having the same nightmare days after days, or in his case, hours after hours, wasn’t helping Marvin trust Chase.

“So, guys... any news of Jack? Still in his coma?”

“He’s in a stable state, but still comatose. You already know it, but we suspected Anti had done something to Jack to make him like that. We still don’t know why though”, answered Jackie in his ‘investigation’ mode. He sat up straight, compared to the other three, and had stars in his eyes. He loved to play detective, even in stressful situation.

“We are pretty sure Anti wanted Jack out of the way for something. But he has not done anything yet. He has not touch anything on the channel and, like Chase said, he did not attack him, even if he had the chance”, wrote Jamie on a sheet of paper for Marvin to read. Chase, or whoever it was, was very rusty with sign language.

“Well, the best we can do until we send someone else to go confront Anti is to stay alert and trust each other. Alright?”, said Chase while glancing at Marvin and smiling at him.

The magician had to look away from Chase. He couldn’t bare look at this man and not remember all the things he did to him. His green eyes lighting the kitchen, his high-pitched laugh, his malicious grin, his claw-like grip. When he closed his eyes, he could only see green lights spiralling around him, making him dizzy. The static in his ears didn’t help his dizziness. He could feel his breathing becoming erratic. It was only a nightmare. It was only a nightmare. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Why would it be real? Nothing that happened made sense. It was only his mind. Right. His mind was pulling tricks on him. Chase would never be possessed by Anti. It didn’t made sense. Anti didn’t know where they lived. Anti didn’t know Chase’s mannerism. Anti didn’t know anything. Marvin was only hallucinating. Right, that’s it. Hallucinations. He had to stop it. He had to stop the pain in his head. He had to do something. Waiting around for him to mess with his head wouldn’t do him any good. He had to take actions in his hands.

Marvin jumped over the table, jumping at C̶h̡as̨e's neck. The glasses of water placed on the table where rapidly thrown on the floor in million of pieces. Shard of glasses were scattered everywhere. C͞ha͟s̡e fell down his chair and felt the glass’ shards digging into his forearm and palm. But he didn’t have time to focus much on the pain in his arms before he felt hands around his throat, tightening up. Marvin was done with being tortured. This man made his life a living hell in such a short time. He laughed and laughed. Finally. He was beginning to feel better now. He felt hands gripping his forearm, hands covered with sharp things on it. But he didn’t care. He had to finish what he began. Other hands were pulling him backward, trying to remove him from his goal. After a strong pull, he was thrown on the floor further from the others. He looked up and growled at the others, anger in his eyes. He couldn’t believe his own friends would prevent him from feeling better. Marvin could see how his friends betrayed him, he could see the fear in their eyes. 

But the only thing Jackie could see was Marvin’s empty black eyes.

_______________________________________

Tag: @chase-brody-protection-squad @enakane @huffle-dork @cryptvokeeper @rand0m-stufff @splish-splash-im-trash @thisrandomperson102 @dragonfliesarecool

[spongeekat]

Smuuuuuut pleeeeeaaaase

Finally finished this! I think I got this ask back in April??? Lol. Also posted on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064247

Steve Rogers was the definition of textbook perfection, and while he didn’t seem to know it, Peter Parker definitely did.

The small crush that Peter had formed on the older man had primarily stemmed from a childhood fascination with one of his favorite heroes, someone he’d had posters of sitting on his walls right next to Howard Stark and Marie Curie. Of course meeting him had been a nerve wracking experience, and Steve had admittedly been one of the first Avengers to leave Peter jelly-kneed from one smile. While Peter had written his reaction off rather well- in his eyes- by continuing to geek out over the rest of the heroes personally requesting he be part of their team, his eyes continued to fall back to the overlooming team leader until he had to forcibly drag them away. He realized later that the racing of his heart wasn’t entirely just due to the fact he was staring at a  National hero… but Captain America was absolutely stunning. Everything from the curve of his bulging muscles to the sweet, sparkling grin had made his stomach jump right up to his throat, and Peter instantly felt small and wimpy in comparison.

How did someone like Tony Stark work with him all the time? Even if he was shorter than Tony, Peter was more toned than the old guy and could likely bench press close to what Steve could. But he had still sensed inadequacy creeping up into his mind when facing him. It was insane.

Peter tried to ignore his crush the best he could, divulging himself into their missions and keeping his attention off of Steve each chance he got. It worked for the most part, until the times Peter would say a dorky reference to some old time sci-fi movie Steve hadn’t watched. Steve would then confess his ignorance, which led to post-mission movie time relaxation, then meeting up twice a week to marathon the entire series. Which, in turn, was how Peter found himself showing Steve an entire collection of classic movies, mixed with some of his own personal favorites, any night the two of them had free. Peter often had to do some early-morning scrambling to finish his homework assignments, but he made sure he had as much room as possible for Steve in his schedule.

Their first kiss had been during Beauty and the Beast. Missing the rest of the movie in way of Steve’s hands pulling his waist in closer and his lips exploring his neck was well worth it. They’d even rewatched it a second time, to see if Steve could digest any more information, though most movie nights had begun to transition further towards heated make out sessions than actual watching. Eventually, they got good at multi-tasking, at least, in that regard.

Who knew their first time having sex would be during the very iconic Rocky Horror Picture Show? Give yourself over to absolute pleasure… 

“This movie can’t be a classic.”

Peter’s eyes trailed up rock hard thighs pulsing with pure muscle, up through a matching set of abs, then landed loosely on Steve’s face. His eyes were locked on the screen flashing bright reds and gothic blacks, darting around to capture every detail of the cult film. Soft, high pitched singing played statically behind Peter, though the hand laced in his hair kept his body from being able to turn. He could only guess where they were based on loose knowledge (And Steve’s inability to sit through 10 minutes of a movie without commenting on the ridiculous plot.)

“Mhm.” Peter hummed back in reply, lips preoccupied with the throbbing erection tucked between them. Fingers tugged harder, sub-consciously, on his head, and Peter easily complied as his throat relaxed to take more of his length down. The soft groan he earned enticed him further, and he slipped closer to the couch to give his other hand a chance to trace fingernails over warm, tan skin.

“Wasn’t this a romantic movie before? Why is this Butler singing in the window?”

Peter raised an eyebrow at Steve’s question, grunting in response. His fingers dug into Steve’s hip for a perch, focusing on quieting his inquiries with his tongue.

“Also, is the Time Warp some sort of famous dance I haven’t heard of yet? It looks ridiculous. Peter?” Steve drug his eyes down to meet the annoyed gaze looking up at him, realizing he couldn’t answer (his mouth very much preoccupied) as he broke into a sheepish grin, and drug his heavy hand off of the young man’s crown. “Sorry.”

Peter finally pulled his lips free, wiping them on the back of his hand. He expertly crawled up beside Steve to glance at the TV, immediately met with the sight of Susan Sarandon taking a dramatic dive in the wake of Tim Curry’s sudden appearance. “This is the best scene in the entire movie.”

As if on cue, Steve’s eyes bulged and Peter was dropped off into a laughing fit while the Transylvanian danced half-naked on screen.

“Right. Not sure how long it’ll take me to get used to people dressing this way.”

“Don’t worry, even this is overemphasized. But you would meet some nice Drag Queens if you tried Midtown.”

“Hmm. Remind me later.”

Peter carefully picked his way back onto Steve’s lap, maneuvering him to lay on the couch to their original position. Slender fingers poked intensively at the hem of Steve’s shirt, who relaxed into the touch and let it slip up and off. Then Peter worked on his jeans, and went for his own while he was at it. He’d grown used to those blue eyes mostly remaining focused on the TV. He didn’t mind. The original goal of these nights were acclimating him to pop culture, and getting off was a sweet bonus.

Steve’s hands eventually found Peter’s waist during one of the lower energy scenes, and he finally took the chance to gaze at the lithe figure waiting somewhat patiently for his attention. A gentle smile crossed his lips that had Peter melting against him a moment later, and then they were kissing and everything felt so right. The perfection of the moment was only enhanced when a strong roll of Steve’s hips up against Peter’s had him mewling. Steve all but forgot about the movie when his sounds drew him in. He sat up, keeping Peter’s hard on slack against his own while creating hot friction between his boxers. Strong hands kept him anchored against his thighs at an angle that would have any normal person groaning in effort, though Peter’s flexible body was easily manipulated to accommodate Steve’s need to hold him tight.

And then hot lips danced over Peter’s collarbone and his soft voice breathed out in a moan in reaction. Each gentle but firm grind was sending him into a euphoric high that he collapsed into.

“Peter.”

His name was a soft grunt of appreciation for the heat building, and Peter’s eyes traced the beautiful curve of Steve’s beautiful skin spread out before him.

“You’re perfect.” The words caught both Steve and Peter off guard, escaping from Peter’s lips before he had had time to stop them. But Steve kissed them right off of his mouth with a teasing look that gave them the chance to catch their breath.

“I was engineered to be.” Steve murmured as they drew apart, hands disappearing up Peter’s shirt to drag it off while also shifting to pin him to the couch. Taut leg muscles pulled Steve down to lay atop him, which he easily moved with.

“N-No, Steve, I mean it.” Peter argued back, watching intently as Steve’s boxers were dragged off his hips and discarded on the floor. “You aren’t just some…”

The Sword of Damocles is hanging over my head

“You aren’t some Rocky Horror.”

Steve paused his hands lingering on Peter’s waistband  long enough to look back at the fleeing monster on screen, and the confusion was evident on his face. “Thank…you?”

“It makes sense! Like, he was engineered by a scientist to function as a muscular tool for Frank-N-Furter, and that’s what he died as–”

“Is that one of those ‘spoilers?’” Steve quirked an eyebrow down at the flushed boy, those wide eyes surprised, but amused by his response. Still, the older hero laughed, making Peter grin right back. “Is this even worth watching anymore?”

“Well, yeah! That’s why I turned it on. Cult classic.”

“Mmm.” Steve released a long drawl on the word as he finished his mission and discarded Peter’s boxers, then socks, until he was shyly exposed underneath him. “But do you want to keep watching?”

Peter opened his mouth to express that yes, he actually really liked this movie and wished he’d continue, but he was promptly cut off by fingernails grazing the soft, sensitive skin of his inner thigh. His senses went on high alert as he looked back up at Steve almost questioningly. They’d done everything, from oral to foreplay to rimming, but the heavy way Steve was breathing indicated something else was changing between them. Something new, and possibly a bit scary.

“I, uh… Steve?” Peter swallowed nervously, smiling up at him to mask his confusion and racing heart. “I-I mean, only if you wanted to.”

Steve leaned in, his lips brushing oh-so-lightly against Peter’s ear, making him shiver. “Can I finger you?” He murmured.

Peter’s heart was racing a thousand beats per minute by then, but he nodded quietly and reached down under the couch to locate the orange bottle of lube he kept hidden. He passed it up to Steve, who took it with such a warm and handsome smile it was hard for Peter to stay nervous.

“You okay?” Steve inquired, drizzling the liquid on his fingers before one slipped probingly down to his entrance. He testingly slid a fingertip past the tight muscle, making the boy squirm. “Does it feel alright?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s fine.” Peter gasped, forcing himself to relax and parting his knees more ever so slightly. Though he’d been touched this way by Steve before, he noticed the American hero was always very conscious about passing any borders, typically allowing Peter to be the one to decide when things would move on. Steve was being uncharacteristically bold, though it’s not like the brunette minded.

He bit his lip when Steve’s finger curved, pressing inside him in ways he had learned Peter enjoyed, shivering when sensitive areas were touched. Steve was warm and gentle and everything that made Peter feel safe, which helped him to relax through his anxiety when faced with those gorgeous blue eyes staring down at him in concern.

Steve pleasured him for a bit longer, changing the direction or using varying pressure to entice the sweet sounds from Peter, until he felt slender fingers gripping his wrist and heard a small panting voice pleading.

“Are you… Do you want to like, you know, uh…” Peter stammered to get the words out, unsure what he was allowed to say. Maybe that was too far for Steve. Peter didn’t know his sexual history, or if he had ever intended to go beyond foreplay. He definitely didn’t want to say the wrong thing and have Steve walk out on him before they even got to Rose Tint My World and the pool orgy. That would for sure shock the older soldier.

But beyond not getting to finish Rocky Horror together, Peter just really didn’t want to be rejected by someone he had feelings for.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked in his patient voice, and Peter almost wished he wasn’t so nice and would just force the question out of him. “Am I hurting you?”

“No!” His heart leapt at his own shout, and he had to reel his emotions back in. “No, I was just thinking um… We’ve been doing this for a while and I’m like… I’m ready. Whenever you are.”

“Ready for…?” Understanding passed over Steve’s face, and he withdrew his fingers, much to Peter’s dismay. “Oh. Peter… you’re young. Are you sure sex is something you want?”

The word ‘sex’ was jarring, but not as jarring as getting called young. Offense crossed into Peter’s expression, and he frowned. “This wouldn’t be my first time. Or even my second, if that’s what you’re worried about. Also, I’m one-hundred percent legal and able to make my own decisions.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Steve soothed, brushing Peter’s hair back in an attempt to calm him down. “I just mean I am a considerable amount older than you. I don’t want you to feel you’ve made any mistakes.”

“I want to do this. It’s not a mistake. You’re not pressuring me into it or anything. Don’t worry.” Peter forced a smile to replace the nervous twitch of his lip, raising a hand to run an impulsive thumb over Steve’s flushed cheeks. He was glad he wasn’t the only one embarrassed. “I have everything in the table behind you.”

Sure enough, when the perplexed Steve rummaged through the drawer, he withdrew a condom that he took no time tearing open.

Peter watched as Steve gently pressed his thighs further apart, rolling the latex over his member. He gripped onto his ass to lift him up enough that Peter’s legs could wrap around his waist, and took his sweet time finding a comfortable position for both of them.

“Are you okay?” Steve hummed in concern, wanting another confirmation of consent.

“I’m fine. No sweat.”

“You haven’t changed your mind?”

“No, I still want to do this.”

“If you do at all, at any point, tell me to stop and I will.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” The All American hero breathed, and lightly pressed the tip inside Peter. The younger boy squirmed, but gave no indication of pain. “Try to relax.”

“Mm-hmm.” Peter breathed back, closing his eyes so he could focus on forcing every tense muscle into submission.

Steve was all the way in seconds later, the pair breathing with rigged excitement. When Peter shifted, Steve patiently waited until he seemed ready enough to continue, and made soft but firm movements with his hips. Peter felt his chest had been lit on fire as the realization dawned that he was actually having sex with The Captain America, but he forgot any freak out when pleasure started to course through his body like electricity.

Steve worked Peter heavily into the couch cushions, sinking in under the weight of his thrusting. Peter wasn’t weak, and he knew he could take anything Steve gave him, so he encouraged him with soft groans. The blonde kept up with Peter’s whimpers for more, his hands eventually finding his hips to pin them bruisingly.

“You’re so cute, Peter.” Steve groaned into his ear, making Peter’s burning face practically catch on fire. “Do you feel okay?”

Peter nodded numbly, too focused on the way his body shuddered in appreciation with each roll of his hips.

“Good.” Steve kissed his neck, then down his chest, and nipped lightly at a hard nipple. “This is amazing for me.”

His hands moved from holding him taught to rubbing circles on his shoulder while the other suspended himself above his head until their chests were touching. Sweat dripped down Peter’s neck, shaking as pre-orgasm rocked through his body.

Steve was really actually…good. He was strong, but caring, and found ways to get deeper inside Peter than he thought possible. Peter wanted to stare at him, and watch every pleasureful moment, but he knew that would be increasingly awkward and he didn’t quite have the self control to look away once he had started.

A hard attack on Peter practically sent him screaming as he covered his mouth to hide the ecstasy. He spilled over both of their chests, shaking, small jolts moving through his body everytime Steve fucked him. It took almost no time for Steve to find his orgasm as well, and a warm heat poured into Peter’s aching body.

“Peter…” Steve panted, managing to hold himself up above him still to prevent crushing the poor, exhausted spider.

Peter’s eyes slowly slipped open, hands finding their perch to try to move. He stopped himself with a moan as the soreness had begun to sink into his muscles, collapsing back onto the couch.

Steve chuckled breathlessly, and maneuvered himself off the couch to fetch the blanket. When he returned, he pulled Peter’s feet onto his lap and draped the fleece over both of them.

“Thanks.” Peter mumbled, stretching out tiredly. “That was…um…”

“Yeah.” Steve agreed, running his fingertips comfortingly over the smaller boy’s calves. “It was something.”

Peter turned his head as the chorus of Superheroes began to play, mesmerized momentarily by the figures of the sexually revived characters crawling through the fog. “You missed the movie.” He pointed out with a small grin, glancing back up into that sweet expression.

“We can watch it again.” Steve promised as he placed a soft kiss to Peter’s wrist, sighing in content as he relaxed back into the cushions. “And this time you can explain why they’re in corsets.”

Peter reached for the remote as he reset it to the beginning, laughing quietly. “Honestly, Steve, some things like this just can’t be explained.”

Science fiction…double feature…

[prongsno]

This is not the end; part II

Lily meets the love of her life for a second time.

part I; read on ao3

dedicated to @gxldentrio​; @padfootdidit​; @hiddenpolkadots​ 

The second time Lily meets him, she swears it’s like she’s fallen into a dream.

She’s been imagining what it would be like to see him again; daydreaming about what he would look like (windswept hair and bright eyes and that glorious, wide smile directed just at her).

So, when she sees him there and his eyes light up, it’s like she’s been swept away in a current of feelings. She says a little prayer, thanking God that she actually decided to come to the party after all, because otherwise she would have never have seen him.

Lily realises with a pang in her heart, quickly followed by giddy and abrupt butterflies in her stomach, that their story is finally going to continue.

This is not the end.

Sirius notices in an instance.

Their quick eye contact, like they’re both magnets who connect as soon as they see each other, and the dazzling smiles, like they can’t believe the other one is there.

“Do you two know each other?” He asks with a grin, nudging James with his elbow (who is quick to clear his throat and pretend that the intense redness on his cheeks is from the temperature of the room and nothing else).

“Um.” Lily watches as James bites his lips and brings a hand to his head, messing his already tousled hair.

“We’ve met.”

His voice isn’t like how she remembers it.

Sirius nods his head slowly. “Right… how?”

The question makes James breathe in deeply and oh God… is he embarrassed by her? Lily’s lungs tighten, she’s afraid to breathe in or out.

James’ eyes haven’t left hers at all and she needs to look away, but they're bright hazel and so breathtaking, they entrance her. He widens his eyes at her, like he’s trying to tell her something but she has no idea what.

Her heart hammers against her chest so brutally that she wants to gasp from the pain and hide away in a corner of the room. Her ears ping, a white static noise filling her mind and making the hairs on her neck tingle.

And then, before she even realises it, he’s grabbing hold of her hand. His fingers are hot and sweaty and he holds her hand limply, his palm shaking against hers.

“We’re dating!” James blurts out in a rush.

The ringing in her head, the gongs and bells and whistles and chimes that were all banging and clanging together so loudly making her mind spin, stops suddenly as James says those words.

Is she dreaming?

His voice is high pitched, like he’s been sucking on helium, and she tries to catch his gaze but The Handsome Boy is already explaining to Sirius (who somehow actually believes James is telling the truth?) how the two of them ended up ‘dating’.

His fingers are warm, so different from the last time when they felt like ice buckets as the rain danced around them. And yet… and yet, it’s like her hand is supposed to fit into his; soft and delicate, just like before. She remembers the touch. Remembers how her heart ached… and it’s just like before.

“We err,” James scratches his neck awkwardly with his other hand, he glances at her briefly before turning back to Sirius. “We met in the library.”

“But you never go to the library.”

No, this is definitely not a dream. If it was, James’ hand wouldn’t be clammy and sweaty in hers.

And yet... here they are, with James clasping onto her desperately, like he’s sinking and she’s his anchor.

James’ awkward laugh fills her entire senses. It’s a soft harmony, so pleasant to her ears.

“Y’see it’s a um, funny story. ‘Bout how we met and all. Really funny… but I haven’t seen Lily in a while so…” James trails off.

It takes Sirius a few seconds to understand, the two lads stare at each other and it’s only when James widens his eyes and cocks his head towards a blushing Lily that he lets out a knowing ‘ooooh’.

"Ah,” Sirius says, realisation hitting him like lightning. "I didn't realise I was cock-blocking." He grins again, giving Lily a friendly nod. James looks like he wants to strangle himself. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to... converse, then," he adds and finally, after giving James a knowing look, leaves.

Only one thing follows immediately after: silence.

Lily is flabbergasted. James looks horrified.

They’re both still holding hands, frozen amidst the party that’s going on around them.

The music is loud, people are laughing and dancing and Sirius makes a beeline to join a group of six (it’s only a few seconds later that the guy is already chatting with a pretty girl Lily vaguely recognises from one of her classes) who are giggling over a game of twister.

James clears his throat and looks sheepishly at her.

James, who she fell in love with at Tesco Extra, the same boy who spilled pasta over himself and on the floor, who forgot his umbrella when the forecast had clearly said it was going to rain… the same boy whom she had been thinking constantly about since the day she had met him.

He ends the silence by casually asking if she wants a drink.

Dizzy, she says yes.

This is when they drop hands, when he leads her away to the kitchen and she’s facing the back of his head again. His hair is even messier from this angle.

A sudden rush of cold sweeps upon her and she finds herself curling her fingers into her fist, relishing the feel of something against her palm.

It’s like they’re still holding hands this way.

“I’m really sorry about… about that.” James says finally after he’s offered her a can of coca-cola. She takes it with a small smile, sipping it quickly so she’s at least doing something.

She doesn’t say anything, she refuses to. She’s not even sure what she would say, if the words managed to get out and make sense at all.

She can feel his jittery gaze, it’s unnerving. He has these beautiful eyes that she could stare into forever, but when she’s trying to avoid his face altogether it’s something that she finds extremely distracting.

His irritating but divinely beautiful smirk is back. And it’s contagious.

“I am really sorry.” He says again. “I didn’t want Sirius to know about… well,” He trails off at this and she finally looks at him again. He scratches his nose and gives a little shrug. “He’d never let me live it down. That I dropped my pasta everywhere in front of a… ”

“In front of a what?”

James’ cheeks are red, a shade that she’d expect to see on Rudolph the Reindeer’s red nose.

“I mean you. In front of you.” He says quickly and before she can ask anything further he’s already speaking again. “Are you hungry? Do you want some…”

He semi-runs towards the fridge and opens it hastily. He all but throws himself into it, his fingers tapping nervously against the handle. Lily can’t help but smile at him; all she can see are his tall, lanky legs and a rather cute backside.

“Um, cheese?” He pops his head out of the fridge and waves the packet with a sheepish smile. At a shrug of her shoulders he’s already handing her some sliced red leicester on a plate which she silently accepts.

“We have some crackers too.”

James is off again and ten seconds later he’s back at her side, handing her some Jacob’s crackers. She can’t deny it, she is starving and cheese and crackers, although a little strange to eat at a party, does sound rather delicious right now.

“I thought you lived in E4.”

She freezes as soon as the words leave her mouth, but she tries to act as natural as possible. It’s not like she’s been stalking him… just that she remembered where he lived and had walked past it at every opportunity. And yet here he was, looking like he owned the place in another flat. She can’t help but be nosey.

James, luckily, doesn’t seem to notice and he’s far too interested in eating cheese to notice her cheeks tinge red.

“Oh,” He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and gulps down a bit of cola. “I do.” He’s speaking with his mouth full, but Lily doesn’t care at all. She could listen to him like that all day. “But well, Sirius is my best mate and I spend most of my free time here.”

That explains it, Lily thinks with a grumble. Now she knows… she’ll make sure she walks past this apartment now at every opportunity.

“Plus, Sirius’ flatmates are amazing. There’s Remus and Peter, they’re both by the TV,” James points and Lily follows his finger. Remus, the taller one she presumes, has his phone out and the two of them are in hysterics about something they’ve seen.

“Why?”

“Pardon?”

They both reach for the last cracker and their hands brush against each other. It’s like an electric shock and yet it doesn’t hurt in the slightest. It’s static and surreal and gives Lily a little giddy feeling in her gut all at the same time. They pull their hands back in an instant. Shy smiles and nervous glances fill the air.

“You can take it,” Their voices ring out at the same time. James sounds desperate, Lily sounds hysterical.

“You have it,” Lily says again, refusing to look at James because she can feel her cheeks burning already and can hear the smirk in James’ suave and cool tone.

“No, please.” James says with a laugh and nudges the plate gently in her direction. “You’re the guest… and Remus will no doubt berate me if he ever got wind of me eating the last cracker when a pretty guest wanted it as well.”

He’s grinning at her, clearly well aware that he’s causing her stomach to flop up and down like she’s on a roller-coaster and a carousel at the same time. Plus, he just called her pretty and right now she feels so flipping elevated and happy that she doesn’t care that this would be her fifth cracker. She takes it with a smile.

If she was in love with him before, it’s now a bone-crushing, soul-destroying love that is burning her heart and setting her whole body aflame.

She’s halfway through the final cracker when she finds the courage to speak again.

“You never answered my question earlier… about why you prefer here?” She feels rude asking such a personal question when this is only their second meeting… but she feels as if she’s known him forever. She feels so drawn to him; he’s like a comfort in the storm. 

Safe, stable, pleasant… she could go on forever.

James just shakes his head and shrugs. No reason, he claims simply. But she’s not buying it at all and won’t take no for an answer.

“I just…” He relents finally. “It’s fun with all my mates here, that’s all.”

He’s clearly hiding something, that becomes far more apparent when he begins to walk aimlessly towards the fridge, pretending to look for something. He’s mumbling aloud to himself as he opens said device and stands in it for a good thirty seconds before he saunters back to her empty handed.

She can take a hint.

“Then, answer me this.” She knows it’s awful asking the poor boy so many questions, but she’s been daydreaming about meeting him again and can’t help but wonder if she’s in some sort of cliched fairy tale full of magic wells and fairy godmothers.

“Anything,” James says, automatically.

His voice is quiet and when she glances upwards to see him she’s met with… a vulnerability that she hasn’t noticed before. His eyes are open (ok, that’s a given… and it’s not like he’s been talking all this time with his eyes shut… but they’re open); they’re so wide and honest and hopeful and for a second it’s like she’s seeing herself in a mirror.

He bites his bottom lip in worry as he waits for her answer and she’s unsure as to why his reply affected her so much.

Lily takes in a deep breath. “Why say we were dating? Like, why not just say we’ve met and that’s that?”

He sends her a goofy smile, followed by a sheepish shrug of his wide, broad shoulders. He looks almost relieved.

“I panicked?” He offers, laughing a bit awkwardly. “I’m still being ridiculed for the last time I fell on my arse… and I know I could have said anything but…” His voice jitters, like he’s being questioned by a fearsome detective about a murder investigation. “But I, err… my mind just went blank.”

He’s not making much sense, but she understands him completely. Because that’s what had happened to her; seeing him there, like he was part of her dream had caused her mind to almost shut down completely.

“Like you had all these thoughts running across your mind, but you couldn’t say anything.” She offers.

“Exactly.” He smiles.

Only once during the night does Sirius and the other flatmates come over. James and Lily are playing a game of snap by the kettle, already on their second cup of tea, when the three saunter over and demand to know how they began dating.

The past few hours has allowed Lily to build her confidence and she really (like, really really) likes James. So she’s willing to tell a few white lies to help the poor guy out.

His cheeks are already red as soon as the three come over, and he whispers a quick ‘oh, balls, I’m so so sorry about this’ to her before he falls silent, fearing the worst.

“Was it when I asked you to join me at the gym that one time and you rang four hours later saying you had ‘lost track of time’?” Remus asks with a grin. James splutters into his mug.

“Yes.” Lily says quickly, grabbing hold of his hand and entwining her fingers in his. “James was showing me his action man collection.”

Sirius lets out a bark of laughter and Peter quips out with a snigger ‘is that a euphemism?’.

She blushes, but James strokes his thumb against her palm softly and her words jumble at the tip of her tongue.

He clears his throat, helping her out. “It’s true. I asked her if she really was okay flipping through comic books and she said she couldn’t think of a better way to spend her saturday morning.”

She suddenly recalls seeing James with the packet of superman tissues, Henry Cavill as the popular superhero doing the familiar and infamous superman flying stance amidst bright blues and reds. She sniggers, that is going to be a memory she will not forget in a hurry.

“I mean, I know we’re all a bit geeky but… action man? Seriously?” Peter seems to buy the lie and Remus and Sirius quickly follow.

“My collection isn’t all action man…” James mutters in defeat, his cheeks are so red that if she had a marker pen she could draw dots on him and he’d look like he had two ladybirds on his face.

“Batman?” Sirius asks, carelessly throwing a teabag into his ‘THE DARK KNIGHT’ monster-sized mug.

“Superman.” Lily answers smoothly before James can even open his mouth. “James is a really big fan,”

James looks mortified.

At one o’clock, when a few of the guests have already started to leave, Sirius decides to turn the party up a notch.

Lily and James had been competing in some mindless and addictive mobile games (temple run, candy crush and crossy roads are the main three the couple spend hours agonising over) when Sirius makes his loud and dramatic announcement.

The boy grins and holds up a sparkling DVD that twinkles and gleams under the bright lights of the room. The Sound of Music.

James groans beside her and she hears him mutter something along the lines of ‘not again’ before the two of them are ushered onto the sofa in front of the television. Sirius is grinning like a madman as he puts the disk into the blu-ray player and Lily finds herself squashed into James as seven other people fit on the sofa with them. 

Peter sits on Remus’ lap, a steaming hot mug of tea in his hands, and the girl Sirius was flirting with before as they played twister sits on the lap of said gentleman as well (the two look very comfy, Lily notices a little enviously as she fidgets to find a comfy way of sitting with the hard end of the sofa on one side and James’ hard and bony shoulder on the other).

“Are you okay? Comfortable?”

Lily has to shuffle awkwardly just to lift her head up to meet his gaze. He bites his lip in an attempt to conceal the laughter that’s threatening to bubble up his throat.

“Peachy,” She manages. 

At that moment Peter spills his tea on him and lets out a surprised yelp. Remus is instantly pushed into James, who in turns squashes Lily closer to the side of the sofa. Not that she minds… if there was anyone squashing her it would be James every single time.

“I’m so sorry!” He shuffles a little (or as much as he can) away from her and she’s so tempted to grab hold of his wrist and pull him closer to her again so that their thighs are touching and she can hear the sound of his heartbeat and his bony elbows pressing against her…

He blushes and sends her an apologetic smile, which Lily hastily returns as she curses student flats and their lack of good air conditioning. It feels like a sauna and sitting next to one of the most attractive guys she’s seen is not helping her at all.

The movie starts and all Lily is aware of is James’ heavy breathing and how his fingers dance anxiously against his legs.

Everyone else on the sofa is chatting along to themselves, the main culprit being Sirius who quotes aloud alongside the movie. Remus tells him to shut up every single time but eventually joins him in the quoting.

Sirius’ silence lasts all but two minutes and then the sofa gets into a discourse about ‘how do you solve a problem like Maria?’ or ‘what would it be like to sit on an acorn, we need to try this’.

Conversations dance around the room, but Lily and James are frozen. 

They try desperately to look everywhere and anywhere but when James’ phone vibrates and she feels the buzz against her thigh, her cheeks are on fire again. More so when he murmurs out a ‘sorry’ (he’s said that word a lot to her in the past few hours) and has to awkwardly reach into his pocket and if they were close before they’re even closer now and she can almost feel his hair tickling her neck and she can almost count the freckles on his cheeks and nose.

After a few seconds of struggling he finally manages to get to his phone out and she watches as he stares intently at the device. His forehead crinkles in concentration, his nose twitches and he bites his lip. 

She's entranced.

He breathes out a dramatic, heavy breath as his long fingers begin to tap against the screen in an almost unbearably slow pace. Lily’s eyes are glued to his hands; how he takes such a long time to tap out the words, like he should really be a grandma who's gotten a mobile for the first time and has to take ten minutes to type something out as the grandchild watches in agony. 

Then she remembers how much she’d like to kiss him, and all grandmother/grandchild analogies fly out the window.

“Everything okay?” She finds herself asking. She doesn’t usually like to talk during movies but since the whole sofa is already talking over the film, she feels less guilty about it.

James seems concerned as he stares at his phone and his problems are suddenly important to her.

“Yeah…” he scratches his chin and sighs. “It was just domino's sending me a text about half price pizza. I texted ‘STOP’ to stop them from spamming me.”

She's not able to say anything in response (although what she would have said, she has no idea) as the song ‘Sixteen going on seventeen’ graces the screen.

Sirius instantly stands up to dance and serenades the broom which is standing next to the bin. As Sirius and the brush dance around the kitchen lovingly together, Peter and Remus secretly film the whole ordeal on their phones and a tall, lanky guy (whom Lily has heard Sirius call ‘Franky-dank’ throughout the night) decides this is a good a time as any to make the party a nice cup of tea.

James’ eyes are glued to the tv screen when she next glances towards him. There's so much more room on the sofa now and yet they're still pressed up against each other and she wouldn't change it at all. 

Yes it's uncomfortable and his elbows are sharp and his shoulders are bony… but he's amazing and she's in so deep now she might as well continue on sinking.

She can see his lips moving and she realises he's singing along with the song quietly underneath his breath. She can't help but smile at the image, what with Sirius singing aloud (and in the totally wrong key) in the background and with James pretending like he doesn't know every single word to the song.

She could watch him forever.

And as her eyelids start to feel heavier and heavier she continues staring with a soft and enthralled smile etched upon her face.

She’s as close as can be to being in his arms and she falls asleep to the sound of his breathing and with the sight of his picking his nose. Delightful, she wouldn't change a thing about him.

The next thing she knows tiredness has taken over and her head drops and she hears a soft bespoken ‘oh!’ in the endless void.

When she wakes up the world is a blur.

Lily opens her eyes slowly, and for a second she can't remember where she is or what she was doing because this room doesn't look familiar in the slightest. It's then that she starts to panic and lifts her head.

James is leaning against the sofa, his head resting against the wall in what looks like the most discomforting angle imaginable. It’s when her eyes drop down to follow his fingers, which are tapping slowly on his phone, that she she notices her own position.

Her face is resting against the nook of his shoulder and there's a wet patch right where her mouth is. If she's been drooling then there is every possibility that she's been snoring too and she can just imagine how horrified James must have been and what a gentleman he is to have not thought enough is enough and abandoned her alone on the sofa.

He must have sensed her small movements because he finishes typing something quickly before he looks down at her. One arm is bent awkwardly at her side… but the other, oh the other is delicately wrapped across his chest. 

She can feel his heart beating gently against her hand and it's like the flipping elephant in the room because they both know it's there, that her fingers are against his chest and that he feels warm and safe and so familiar. She's afraid to move but when he looks down and smiles at her it's like watching a breathtaking sunrise; her heart leaps in her throat and butterflies erupt everywhere.

“Hey,” He murmurs softly and swings an arm around her shoulder. 

His fingers are warm and they curl against her in such an intimate way for a few seconds before his hand freezes and goes limp, dropping back to his side as if he had never made the move in the first place. He shows no signs of embarrassment, just gives her another smile to which she gladly returns it.

“Sorry,” Her body is aching from sleeping in such a weird way and yet she doesn’t want to move away from him in the slightest.

“What for?” His voice is so deep and when she's right by his chest like this she can hear every intake of breath. The hairs on the back of her neck tingle and she lets her fingers grip onto him just that little bit more.

She gulps and all she wants to do is snuggle deeper and kiss every inch of him and trace the lines on his face and pull her fingers through his hair.

They both stay still, no intention of moving at all.

The sofa isn't full anymore, so there's much more room now.

And yet they're pressed against each other at the far right as if there's still ten people squashing them into their close proximity.

“You don't look very comfortable,” is what she says eventually, blinking her eyes and stifling down a yawn. 

The sun is only just starting to rise through the cheap and broken curtains, it gives the kitchen a hazy, orange glow and James looks almost ethereal with the light shining against him.

His laugh is soft, just as always, addictive, delectable and as sweet as honeycomb and caramel.

“I chose to stay.” It's a different answer from the one she was expecting, but she can see the truth in his eyes and it's all she needs.

“Plus,” His voice rings out and she realises she's been staring mesmerised at his lips for goodness knows how long. “You have a tight-death grip and I don't think I would have been able to move even if I wanted to.”

All she gets from that is he didn't want to move (or that's how she's going to interpret it anyhow) and she's going to continue sinking and drowning because that's all she knows.

They say it takes two to tango, and it also takes two to almost cuddle on a sofa after knowing the person for only a total of twenty four hours ish. 

There's a part of her completely terrified that she's in way over her head, that there's a possibility that she's making up all these feelings. That he has no interest in her whatsoever… that their meeting at Tesco that one day was a complete coincidence… that it wasn’t fate, that it was just her helping him pick up pasta from the shop tile floor and not her falling helplessly in love after just thirty seconds of seeing him.

They chatter for a few minutes.

James recounts last night; how insulted Sirius was that Lily had dozed off during the best song of the movie but had forgiven her when he was offered a nice sugary tea off Franky-dank. How the movie had slowly just become background noise as Peter and Remus went through the various filters on snapchat and took a few rather amusing videos that Lily would have to see later.

It’s when Lily covers her mouth to yawn that James reaches down to hold her hands. She stares at him, surprised by how forward he’s suddenly become (but secretly loving it at the same time). His hands envelope hers, warm and soft and rough at the same time and she’s just about to fold her fingers through his when he gently drops them and gets up off the sofa.

His knees click, just like last time, and he lifts his arms, stretching as if he hasn’t moved in a million years. His shirt rises just a little, but it’s enough for Lily to see a slither of skin and the top of his jeans. Then she’s blushing and cursing herself because she doesn’t know if it’s from seeing James like this or from her thinking that he was about to hold her hand like they were a couple.

When he’s done stretching he plods over to the kettle and gets out the mugs they used last night. As she watches him make their teas, and notices how he listened and remembered the way she liked the perfect brew (weak and milky with no sugar), she realises that the reason why she blushed was both the aforementioned reasons and more.

It’s that he’s here.

And she’s here.

Together.

Even though they were together most of, or rather all of, the night, she still wants more. She doesn’t care if it’s a selfish thing to think. She doesn’t want to be so shy and embarrassed by a slither of skin.

A hot cup is placed into her hands and she thanks him instantly (tea etiquette is always thanking the tea maker no matter if it’s the right colour or not).

“Is the colour okay?”

She swirls the teaspoon around aimlessly and takes a hesitant sip after blowing on it a few times. He watches like a hawk and doesn’t stop until she gives him a nod and smiles, “perfect,”.

He makes the best brew, despite his own being the complete opposite to hers (so dark with only a dash of milk and one heaped teaspoon of sugar which almost definitely counts as two).

The clock reads four a.m. when they’ve finally finished their teas. Tangled feet and heads resting against each other, their voices dancing back and forth.

She never wants to leave. But when he fidgets and checks his phone she knows all good things must come to an end at some point.

She places her mug down on the small coffee table, twiddles her thumbs and stands.

“I suppose I best be off,” At the sound of her voice he’s staring at her again. Eyes so open and yet hiding all emotion. He nods stiffly. “I have an essay due Thursday.”

“Started it yet?” He asks as he places the mugs in the sink.

“I’ve not even looked at the questions yet,” She laughs a little and watches as he reaches over to grab his brand new, sparkling clean and expensive looking trainers.

“Peter once wrote an essay one hour before the deadline. He got a first and the teacher said it was the best damn essay she had ever read. You’ll do great, I’m sure.”

There’s a couple of seconds of awkward silence. James stands there in his shoes with a light jacket clad over his shoulders whilst Lily stands in just her mismatched christmas socks. She spots her scruffy shoes by the hallway and drags her feet over to them, highly aware of James’ heavy gaze on her back.

Once the shoes are finally on and her bag is swung over her arm James smiles and says he’ll walk with her to her flat. That much had been obvious as soon as he had put on his shoes, but she thanks him nevertheless and smiles giddily when he opens the door for her, the two of them walking out of the flat together like they’ve known each other for years.

She doesn’t want to leave.

Last time ten minutes had not been enough.

This time it seems like twenty four hours aren’t enough either. She needs weeks and months with him. Years. Endless encounters, conversations that last days and smiles that last ages and over lifetimes.

They walk down the steps in a comfortable silence, listening to the birds sing and twitter in the light glow of the rising sun. Their feet step in unison, gravel crunching under their shoes and the wind twirling around them in a soft, delicate breeze.

It’s not enough.

He asks her which building she’s in and smiles for some reason when she replies with ‘P’. She doesn’t ask, nor does she want to because she’s afraid that speech will fail her and that she’ll end up croaking and making a fool out of herself.

“Listen,” He says once they’re walking from Sirius’ B flat. “I err, wanted to thank you. About last night.” When she doesn’t say anything he continues on, his voice mumbling. “It wasn’t fair of me to put you into that kind of situation before asking if it was okay. And Sirius and the others believed it and so you really helped me out there.”

He chuckles and this time when he looks at her she swears she can’t breathe. He smiles and his eyes are alight, shining and she’s so drawn to him like a captivated moth to a flame. “I wonder if we’ll make a habit out of this.”

They stop when they reach P, a shabby looking building with moss growing out of the bricks. She fidgets and puts her hands in her pockets, watching James as he kicks a small stone onto the grass.

“Well,” She says at last. “This was uh, fun.” She means it, and more. But words fail her, not for the first time.

Once again James smiles and with the sun behind him, the light gleaming through his glasses and brightening his dark hair, he’s like the perfect happy ever after ending to any story.

When he doesn’t say anything and only stares at her she feels like she’s now overstayed her welcome. She grips onto her bag tight, needing some kind of support, before she gives him a nod and a quick smile and turns away.

She hates how it’s like déjà vu, turning and walking away. The realisation that it’s over hits her hard like she’s just slammed into a brick wall and broken every bone. But there’s no reason for her turn back. He’s not calling out her name or tugging at her hand. It’s just like before and yet it’s not. Instead of being filled with giddy daydreams it’s the hard, nitty-gritty realism that fairytales and wishes do not come true.

Lily bites back the tears and glares at the door. It’s the end, if you want it. She thinks bitterly and grips onto her keys tight, full of anger.

It’s the end.

It’s the end.

And he wants it.

Her keys fumble into the lock and then she hears movement and a flurry of angry and foul swear words before James is suddenly by her side, breathing as if he’s just ran a marathon.

His eyes are dancing with fear and hope and expectation, just like hers. She’s too scared to say anything, but her hands pause. The key stays in the lock.

“I was thinking,” He breathes out, his eyes refusing to leave hers in a trance-like state. “If you wanted to, that is, if we could… we could meet. Again? Sometime.”

She should be angry, but as soon as she sees how sincere and desperate he looks it melts away and an unbearable wave of emotions swallow her whole.

“I would love to.” It’s amazing, saying those words. They’re true, they scream out into the void and ring for all to hear it.

He smiles and damn, she loves his smile. He looks exhilarated and ecstatic and she would bet on anything that she looks exactly the same.

Like two fools hopelessly in love. But they don’t care, they’re sinking together and it’s the best thing in whole world.

“You should go and work on your essay first though. I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get the mark you deserve,” In a single movement he’s taken out his phone and after a few seconds later passes it to her.

He’s created a new contact and after her name is the sun emoji, smiling up at her in such a cliche way that she hates and loves it at the same time. Once she’s done she creates a new one for him, James, followed by the sun emoji because she’s trash okay.

“I guess I should go in then,”

They stare at each other and God, they can’t stop smiling. Shy smiles, smirks, wide grins and soft chuckles. It seems like hours go by before her phone makes a sound and she finally pulls her eyes away.

Her flatmate asks if she’s okay since she never returned back. She types back that she’s never felt better.

“I’ll see you then. Soon.” He says and it’s a promise, as he watches her turn the keys in the lock. She gives him a wave and then another and then one more before she turns to climb up the stairs, just for good luck.

He stands there until the sun is risen, smiling at the door with the goofiest, most elated smile he can muster.

The third time she meets him he greets her with a bouquet of white daisies and soft yellow roses. 

This time, they both know they’ll meet again. That they have their whole lives ahead of them.

That this... well, that this is not the end.

[ruined-by-destiel]

Lazarus Rising

Summary: How differently would things have gone if Dean remembered Cas from hell? Rewrite of episode 4x01 “Lazarus Rising.”

Words: 3,024

Dean x Cas

Warnings: none

Notes: I was wondering how the episode might have gone if Dean could understand Cas’ true voice, and this happened. There are some holes where I didn’t go into certain areas of the episode and changed some things, but other than that the plot stays the same for the most part.

Black. That’s all he saw when he opened his eyes. His breathing was heavy as he searched his pockets for the lighter he always carried with him, flicking it a few times before it lit. His heartbeat quickened as he realized he was enclosed in a box, trying to find a way out.

“Help.”

His voice was quiet and hoarse from lack of use. He pounded on the board above his head.

“Help!” He pounded until he broke the board and dirt came raining down onto his face.

Dean took a deep breath of fresh air as he emerged from his grave, pulling himself up out of the dirt. He looked around, taking in the scene before him. All around him, in a perfect circle, a pile of dead trees knocked over by some huge force.

He walked down an empty road until he reached an abandoned gas station. He pounded on the door, hoping someone was inside.

“Hello?” His throat strained from the dryness, and after pounding the door some more, he decided no one was there. Wrapping his flannel around his fist, he broke the glass and unlocked the door, walking inside. Immediately, he spotted the fridge and grabbed a bottled water, downing it instantly. Seeing a newspaper rack nearby, he headed over and grabbed a paper, reading the date: September 18th.

“September.” He set the paper back down, heading to the bathroom and washing his face in the sink. Looking in the mirror, he examined himself for any signs of the hellhound attack. Nothing. Something shows beneath the hem of his left sleeve. Wincing, he pulls the sleeve up and exposes a bright red handprint branded on his arm. Frowning, he pulled his sleeve back down and left the bathroom.

Dean grabbed some snacks and energy bars from the shelves, along with some bottled waters. Heading towards the cash register, he begins to take some of the money when the TV on the counter next to him flicks on. He frowned as he shut it off, only to have the radio on his right turn on.

Demons.

He rushed to grab some salt from the shelves and immediately began to salt the door and windows. A high pitched ringing noise filled the air. He kept pouring the salt until the ringing was too much, dropping it and clutching his ears in pain. It felt like his eardrums would burst when suddenly, the ringing stopped. Cautiously, he removed his hands from his ears and looked around for any signs of danger.

“Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s head snapped up, looking for the source of the voice. Was it a person? It didn’t sound human. But something about it was oddly familiar.

“Dean Winchester.” There is was again, this time more insistent.

“Hello?” Dean called out. “Who’s there?”

“The Righteous Man has been saved.”

He frowned. “What? Who are you?”

“Castiel. We have work for you.”

“Work?” Dean threw his arms up in exasperation. “What work?”

Silence. Whatever it was, Castiel, it was gone now. Dean shook his head and grabbed his things, heading outside. He found a payphone and tried to call Sam, but the line had been disconnected. He called Bobby next, but the older man wasn’t about to believe that it was really Dean. Sighing, he exited the booth, and noticed a dusty old car parked nearby. Hotwiring it, he started on his way to Bobby’s.

After confronting Bobby and convincing him he was really back, the two of them tracked down Sam to a motel in Pontiac, Illinois. After facing a similar ordeal with his brother, Dean got Sam to realize that it was actually him. He waited by the end of the bed as Sam said goodbye to the girl who had been with him, staring him down as he walked back in.

“So tell me, what’d it cost?”

Sam smirked. “The girl? I don’t pay, Dean.”

“That’s not funny Sam. To bring me back. What’d it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?”

“You think I made a deal?” Sam looked from his brother to Bobby, the latter nodding his head.

“That’s exactly what we think.”

Sam scoffed. “Well, I didn’t. I wish I had.”

Dean grabbed his brother by the shirt. “Don’t lie to me! I didn’t want to be saved like this!”

“I’m not lying!” Sam was getting angry now, breaking apart from Dean’s grip. “You were in hell for months. For months and I couldn’t stop it! So I’m sorry it wasn’t me, all right?”

Dean’s expression softened. “It’s ok, Sammy. You don’t have to apologize. I believe you.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I was  checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left, booked up here yesterday morning.”

“When I busted out.” Dean ran his hand over his face, mumbling to himself. “Maybe that’s who it was.”

“Who what was?” He groaned. Sam could hear everything.

Dean sighed. “After I broke out, I found an abandoned gas station I fueled up at. All of a sudden there was this, this ringing sound, just piercing through my ears. And then it just stopped.” He looked straight ahead, staring at the wall. “And then I heard a voice, someone saying my name. And something about a Righteous Man and having work for me.”

Sam walked up to him. “Work? What kind of work?”

“Hell if I know. Went radio silent after that.”

“Any idea what it was?” Bobby spoke up.

“Castiel.” Dean looked up, locking eyes with Sam. “He said his name was Castiel.” He frowned, then looked back down. Sam furrowed his brow.

“Dean?”

The older Winchester just stared at the wall, racking his brain for the mysterious voice that was all too familiar.

“Dean. What is it?”

He sighed. “I think I know him.”

Soon after, they were on the road again. Bobby knew a psychic a few hours away, and they thought they might give it a shot and see if she was hearing anything on the other side. Dean was still trying to figure out where he had heard that voice before, getting more and more upset. He started up a conversation with Sam, trying to get his mind off of it.

“There’s still one thing that’s bothering me.” Sam turned to look at his brother. “The night that I bit it- or got bit,” he laughed at his own joke, his brother rolling his eyes, “how’d you make it out? I thought Lilith was going to kill you.”

“Well, she tried. She couldn’t.” Sam sighed. “She fired, like, this burning light at me, and… didn’t leave a scratch. Like I was immune or something.”

“Immune?”

“Yeah, I don’t know who was more surprised, her or me. She left pretty fast after that.”

Dean nodded and bit his lip. “What about Ruby? And have you been using your, uh, freaky ESP stuff?”

Sam shook his head. “Dead, for now. And no.”

“You sure about that? Well, I mean, now that you've got... immunity, whatever the hell that is... just wondering what other kind of weirdo crap you've got going on.”

“Nothing, Dean.” Sam huffed. “Look, you didn't want me to go down that road, so I didn't go down that road. It was practically your dying wish.”

“Yeah, well let’s keep it that way.” Sam looked out the window, conversation over. Dean turned back to the road, the silence dragging him back into his thoughts. He remembered hell, all of it, even if he wouldn’t tell his brother or Bobby about it. It was something about hell and that voice but just… He sighed deeply. They needed to figure this out, and soon.

They pulled up to the small house a few hours later and knocked on the door. A woman in her thirties opened up and upon seeing Bobby, broke into a wide smile.

“Bobby!” She pulled him into a hug, then turning to the brothers. “So, these the boys?”

Bobby nodded. “Sam, Dean, this is Pamela Barnes, the best damn psychic in the state.”

They exchanged greetings and Pamela looked over Dean. “Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back into the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual.”

Dean gave her a flirty smile. “If you say so.”

She smiled at the three of them. “Come on in.”

They followed her inside and towards a room in the back.

“So, you hear anything?” Bobby got right down to business.

She shook her head. “I Ouija’d my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why.”

“So what’s next?”

“A seance, I think.” She pulled out a large black tablecloth covered in symbols out of a cabinet. “See if we can see who did the deed.”

“You’re gonna summon the thing here?” Bobby asked, shooting Dean a concerned glance.

“No, I just wanna get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without the crystal.” She turned to Dean. “Bobby said this things’ got a name?”

“Yeah, uh, Castiel.”

“Good.” She took a seat at the table, motioning the others to do the same. She lit six candles in the center of the table. “Take each other’s hands. And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched…” Her hand slid up Dean’s thigh.

“Woah!” Dean jumped, embarrassed. “Well, he didn’t touch me there.”

Pamela smirked. “My mistake.” Dean pulled up his left sleeve and exposed the handprint. Pamela lay her hand on it and closed her eyes. “Okay.” She took a deep breath.

“I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.”

Her TV turned on to static. “I invoke, conjure, and command- Castiel?”

Dean’s head snapped to Pamela. “That’s him? You got him?”

She frowned. “It’s whispering to me, warning me to turn back.” She continued to chant, as the table began to shake violently. The ringing began again.

“Maybe we should stop.” Bobby looked worried.

“I almost got it.” Pamela continued on chanting, the ringing getting louder. All of a sudden it stopped. Dean looked around, but Sam and  Bobby still looked pained because of the ringing. But Dean could hear the voice loud and clear, just like in the gas station.

“Turn back. You must stop. You do not know what you are doing. Turn back. You must stop.” The voice kept repeating the same warnings while Pamela chanted before it cut off, and suddenly Pamela was screaming, her eyes burning with a white hot flame. She fell from her chair, Bobby at her side in an instant, telling Sam to call 911. She was conscious, but when she opened her eyes there were just two black, empty sockets.

“I can’t see!” She sobbed. “I can’t see!”

Dean heard Sam in the other room on the phone, and in the back of his head, the voice came again.

Bad things happen to those who do not obey.

Dean sat in a small diner, giving his order to a waitress. She walked away as Sam sat at the table, talking into his phone.

“You bet.” He hung up and turned to Dean. “Pam’s stable and out of ICU.”

“And blind, because of us.” The older Winchester paused before deciding to speak. “I heard him again.”

Sam shot up, looking at Dean. “What?”

Dean sighed, drumming his fingers on the table. “While Pamela was invoking him, I could hear him. Telling her to turn back. And then after- well, after, he said bad things happen to people who don’t listen.”

“Huh.” Sam sat back. “Well, we still have no idea what we’re dealing with. But I sure as hell wouldn’t want to find myself face to face with it.”

“Actually, I was thinking, with the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him. Bring him right to us.” The waitress brought over Dean’s pie and he thanked her.

Sam stared at his, wide-eyed. “You’re crazy. Absolutely not.”

“You got a better idea?” Dean angrily stabbed his pie and shoved a forkful into his mouth.

“Well, I followed some demons to town, right? So we go find them. Someone’s gotta know something about all this.”

Dean chewed his pie unenthused, appetite gone. “Yeah. You go do that.” He got up and threw a ten on the table, walking out of the diner.

Later that night, Dean is asleep on the couch when the TV flicks to static, the radio turning on as well. It wakes Dean, who looks around and sees that Sam is asleep in bed. He sits up and braces himself for the high pitched ringing, but it never comes. Instead, there is silence. The TV clicks off, as does the radio, and Dean thinks that’s that. He’s about to lay back down when he hears Castiel in his head, his voice deep and commanding.

We need to talk.

“You’re doing what?” Bobby’s voice is laced with sleep, obviously annoyed that Dean would wake him at this time of night.

“Just going out for a beer. Need to get my mind off some things. Just don’t you or Sam worry if I’m not back by the time you get up, I’m fine.”

“Alright, boy. Just one thing.”

“Yeah, Bobby?”

“Don’t you ever wake me up this early in the morning again, idjit.” And with that, he hung up.

Dean tossed his phone to the passenger seat, pulling out Ruby’s knife from his jacket pocket. He examined it before putting it away again, speeding through the night.

Dean finished spraying a large symbol on the floor, taking a step back to admire his work. The walls floor, and ceiling of the old, abandoned warehouse are covered in similar symbols, traps and talismans from every faith on the globe, courtesy of some books of Bobby’s. He walks over to a table where he has iron, silver, salt, stakes, and guns laid out, and takes a deep breath.

“Time to ring the dinner bell.”

He walked to another table with a small bowl in the middle, took a pinch of dust from it and threw it in another, larger bowl. Smoke began to rise from it, and he began to chant in Latin.

At the end of the chant, he tossed the book to the side and gripped Ruby’s blade in one hand, gun in the other. He waited for a few minutes, but nothing happened. Frowning, Dean looked back at the incantation, re-reading it.

“Maybe I didn’t do it ri-”

He was cut off by a loud rumbling noise. The roof began shaking and rattling, threatening to come apart. Dean ran to the end of the warehouse, holding up his gun at the ready. The doors suddenly burst open, a tall man wearing a trenchcoat walking in. Dean gaped at the figure.

Castiel.

As he walked towards Dean, the lightbulbs above him shattered and sparked all around him. Dean finally brought himself back to reality and began to shoot silver rounds, but Castiel carried on walking, unfazed. He finally stopped a few feet away from Dean, watching with an expectant gaze.

Dean gripped Ruby’s knife and suspiciously eyed him.

“Who are you?”

The man lowered his head slightly and stared at him with an intensity that almost made Dean crumble. “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Dean lunged in and plunged the blade into the man’s chest. Castiel looked down, amusement spreading across his face before pulling out the knife and dropping it on the ground. Dean’s heart began to race and he took a step back. Castiel looked up at him with a serious look on his face.

“We need to talk.”

Dean swallowed nervously.

“Who are you?”

“Castiel.” He continued to stare, his facial features giving away nothing as to what he might be thinking.

“Yeah, I figured that much. I mean what are you?”

“I’m an angel of the Lord.” He tilted his head to the side slightly, squinting his eyes at Dean. “But you already knew that.”

Dean scoffed. “There’s no such thing. And how the hell would I even imagine that?”

A look of sadness crossed the angel’s face. “You have no recollection of your time in hell?”

“No. I mean,” Dean shook his head. “Maybe. Why do you care?”

Castiel straightened up, serious once more. Suddenly lightning flashed and Dean’s eyes widened at the sight before him. Coming from the angel’s back were large, shadowy black wings, stretching across the length of the warehouse. Another flash of lightning and they were gone again, just like that.

Dean blinked a few times, processing what he had just seen. But why wasn’t he as surprised as he should be?

“So. Angels are real.”

“But this should not surprise you.” Castiel frowned again, taking a few steps forward so that he was face to face with Dean. “You really don’t remember?”

“I…” Dean couldn’t think straight with the angel staring into his eyes like that. “I don’t-” His eyes. A brilliant blue that he somehow knew. He gasped, and it came back to him in a wave of remembrance.

Dean, torturing souls as they were delivered to him, feeling nothing as he cut into them. And then a light. A light form descending into the depths of hell, reaching for his broken soul. A strong hold gripping him tight as they ascended into the skies. Steady hands piecing him back together, piece by piece, perfecting his being once more. Words of unknown origin flowing from the figure’s mouth, soothing the tortured man as he was brought back to life. Blue eyes staring back at him, the last thing he sees before being engulfed in darkness. Blue eyes that now stared back as hope creeped into them, a smile beginning to form on his face as the Righteous Man remembered.

“Cas.”

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[the-tales-of-horror]

Law & Order Doesn’t  Always Lead To A Happy Ending

Original Link By feyedharkonnen

“Knock, Knock”

“Who’s there?” I said it automatically now, which is what happens when your kid tells knock-knock jokes incessantly, having discovered their appeal about a week ago.

“Smell Mop” It was funny the first few dozen times she asked me this one but even as the guy who told her most of the jokes she now regurgitated, ad nauseum, in every waking hour, the novelty was wearing thin.

“Andi, honey, Daddy doesn’t want to knock-knock right now, I know, let’s watch your favorite show!” I jumped to my feet and yelled “DUN DUN!” Andi squealed with delight at the hallmark of her favorite, Law and Order. Who knew 3 year olds would prefer police procedural dramas over Dora the Explorer. I’m still waiting for Boots and Dora to find Swiper in an alley, having been killed by his fence.

I turned on the TV and went in the kitchen to make us some PB&Js and grab some Sunny Delight. It turned out to be a re-run, as was the norm at 2pm on a Thursday, but it was new to Andi, so she sat in her accustomed spot, right next to me with one of my arms over her shoulder, using my bicep as a pillow. The bright little sprite was wise enough to realize that Jerry Orbach, who played Detective Lenny Briscoe was also the voice of Lumiere in Beauty and the Beast. She referred to him as “Loomy Bisco”.

This episode was a good one though and it involved a missing person, so at the end of the episode, as L&E will often do they flashed across the screen, real missing people, both adults and children. I had gotten up to clear our mess of paper plates and refill the Sunny D when I heard Andi, “Daddy, that’s Unca Billy and Jeffy!” I looked up and saw on my screen, a younger version of the old guy William, who lived across the street from me with his grandson Jeffery. It certainly looked like them but I didn’t want Andi to get overly excited and exascerbate her asthma. “It kinda looks like them honey, but that couldn’t be them, does Billy look like a bad man?” She thought about it for a moment and then said “Ok Daddy, you right.”

I sent a text to my wife who was at work and told her what we’d seen. She called me about 5 minutes later and told me I should contact the 800 number for missing and exploited children to give the tip, you know, just in case. So I did, all the while pacing by the large picture window in the front room, seeing if there were any activity across the street. I explained to the person on the line that I wasn’t entirely certain, but someone on one of their broadcasts could be my 60-something-year-old neighbor and his “Grandson” could be the kid this guy abducted 9 years ago. I felt like an idiot and that I was betraying him in some way by jumping to this grandest of conclusions. If we’d had the technology in 2001, I could have sent a picture somehow. I didn’t own a fax machine and my indestructible Nokia just didn’t have the capabilities.

“Sir, this is very important,…” The person on the line interrupted my wandering mind, “I’m sorry, ma’am, what was the question?” The woman repeated herself, “Do you know if the gentleman in question owns any firearms?” It was a bit of a jarring question after making a call on a whim. “Will? Yeah, the guy is an avid hunter and fisher, has a collection that would make Charlton Heston proud, I’m kind of jeal…” She cut me off, “Stand by please sir.” and the dulcet tones of Kenny G’s “Songbird” filled my ear, gross.

30 seconds later, a man came on the line, “Mr. Jacobs, my name is Carl Singleton and I’m a Special Agent in Charge of the Cincinnati Field Office for the Federal Bureau of Investigations.” I held my phone away from my ear and stared at it for a moment, looked over my shoulder at Andi watching Disney and brought the phone back to my ear. “I’m sorry, did you just say you were with the FBI?” This was becoming surreal. “Yes sir, I’m going to ask you a series of questions about your neighbor, William.” I balked at the idea of divulging the information at first. “Are you serious?”

“I take things of this nature very seriously Mr. Jacobs. Please just answer the questions.” He asked how long we’d lived here and how long we’d known Will, any distinguishing features, quirks, and odd behavior in public around Jeffery. Questions about his temperament, any substance or alcohol abuse issues, and suspicions of any skeletons in my neighbor’s closet. I felt like I was in front of the McCarthy Commission ratting on suspected commies. I answered as best I could but nothing seemed to concern the FBI guy until I mentioned Will’s ring and a scar on his chin.

“Wait, go back to the ring, can you describe it?” I thought for a moment, “Yeah, everybody in the neighborhood can describe that ring, it’s just like the ring that Tom Selleck wears in Magnum P.I., you know, the cross, Will is a huge Magnum fan.” I could hear Singleton muffle his end of the phone and yell something to another person, he came back to me. “Mr. Jacobs, I’m going to ask that you refrain from any contact with William at this time while we look into some things, it may be nothing.” And with that, he ended the call, leaving me to stare at the cordless phone in my hand. The nothing he spoke about happened 20 minutes later as I watched 2 unmarked cars block off the end of my street.

I picked up the phone to call my wife and was greeted by a dead line. I grabbed my Nokia and it read “No Service”. I looked out the window to see men clad in black tactical gear dodging between houses toward Will’s house, the activity outside finally caught the attention of Andi, who had been riveted by Disney this whole time when a helicopter wheeled overhead and took up a stationary hover about 150 feet above my neighborhood. “Daddy! A Whirlybird!” she squealed in delight, that’s what we called them. I told her to go back to the tv while daddy tried to figure out what was going on. I walked to my front door and opened it.

Three feet to the left of my door, the muzzle of an M-16 swung up to my chest then dropped again just as quickly and the uniformed gentleman who held it said through gritted teeth, just loud enough for me to hear, “Sir, get. The. Fuck. Back in your house, and stay there.” And he pulled my door shut. I noticed Andi a few feet away with wide eyes, “Daddy, that man said a bad word!” It made me laugh through the nervousness in my stomach, “Yes baby, yes he did. Shame on him.” There was no keeping her away from the window now since she’d seen the chaos going on in our little corner of the world.

I turned my Lazy Boy in the front room toward the picture window and got popcorn, since there was nothing else I could do. Andi sat on the arm of the chair commenting on the various figures running here and there. After about an hour, a black car came though the roadblock at the end of our street and came to a stop just behind the large RV that had been rolled in, a tall grizzled looking man got out and fixed his tie, Andi stared after him with rapt attention, “Loomy Bisco?” she asked. I laughed and said, “No baby, Loomy is on TV.” As if that would distract her from the guy in front of my house who clearly looked like he could be Jerry Orbach’s younger brother.

He spoke with one of the tactical guys for a moment and then went in the RV. After 15 minutes of static nothingness, a group of the uniform clad men burst into action, one team in the front, and I can only assume one team in the back, I knew the layout of Will’s house, as we lived in a cookie-cutter neighborhood, his house was almost identical to mine. At the front, a large man stepped up to the door with what looked like a large metal pipe with handles; he swung it back once, and brought the end crashing into the door just to the left of the doorknob. The frame, to the right, came apart like kindling and the door swung violently inward.

The big man swung to the side and the uniforms, huddled in a line, streamed in the gap like an armored centipede with a shield at its head. I can’t tell if it was five seconds later or ten, but the front picture window exploded outward in a fireball, the concussion blowing in my window and showering Andi and I with small chunks of glass. I picked her up, and ignoring the cuts to the bottom of my feet rushed to my bedroom at the rear of the house. I looked her over and aside from a few small cuts here and there, she was fine.

I could see her crying, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing except for a high-pitched ringing in my ears. I felt something oozing in my ear, and judging from the small amount of blood coming from Andi’s, I could well guess what it was. I walked, Andi in my arms to the front of the house to peek out the window to see if there were new developments, there were. It was a nightmare of burning cars, people staggering around blindly, carnage, the team that had entered Will’s house, what was left of them, was strewn across the once carefully manicured lawn, viscera and limbs here and there.

I didn’t have to worry about Andi seeing this scene of devastation as she had her face firmly planted in my shoulder. I could feel her tears soaking my t-shirt. The Loomy Bisco look-a-like came staggering out of the RV, a red stain about where you’d guess his appendix would be, the stain spreading slowly, his hand absentmindedly, occasionally touching the small, shiny, crimson shard of metal that protruded from his shirt. I walked as steadily as I could toward him. I could start to hear things very faintly through the ringing.

My voice sounded, to me, like I was speaking from somewhere around the vicinity of my chest. “You’re Singleton, aren’t you!” it was more of a statement than a question. He looked at me, confused, I could see him saying “Who the fuck are you?” I mimed the sign for a telephone and said “Jacobs”. His eyes passed over me and then Andi, then around the scene; his eyes showed regret, “I’m sorry, I should have known it wasn’t going to be this easy.” He waved over a group of rushing paramedics, refusing treatment until his knees buckled and it wasn’t his choice anymore. They looked us over and we received a ride to the hospital to check us for any internal injuries. I called my wife to let us know what was going on.

Tabitha nearly beat us to the hospital, that woman is a Formula One driver when it comes to needing to get to the hospital, as evidenced by her collection of speeding tickets from Andi’s occasional visits due to her asthma, which, surprisingly had not made an appearance as a result of the excitement of the day, I don’t know if my baby was in shock and it just hadn’t hit her yet, I was ready for anything by now.

Andi had fallen asleep in her exam room near the ER so Tabitha and I stepped into the hallway to discuss what had happened. A familiar, by now, face strode up to the pair of us and introduced himself to Tabitha.

“Carl Singleton, Special Agent in Charge, FBI. I can only assume you are Mrs. Jacobs. May I speak with you and your husband a moment?” We looked in Andi’s direction and he nodded, “Agent Samuels will be watching her.” He introduced a tall black man with scrubs on who nodded deferentially to us and proceeded to enter the room and take a seat in one of the chairs near the bed.

Singleton led us to a quiet office off one of the many hallways and sat heavily in a chair, wincing when he did so, he stopped his hand from goin to where I’d seen him bleeding back in the neighborhood. “You alright?” I asked, he responded with “I’ve had worse, but that’s not why we’re here. Your neighbor…” Tabitha chimed in, “Will?” Singleton sighed and corrected her, “Will as you call him is really one Staff Sargent Jonathan Merrill; former Army Ranger, veteran of three tours in Vietnam, and a psychopath of the highest order.

He initially came to our attention in 1977, shortly after his medical discharge from the Army. He claimed to be suffering from severe PTSD and was in custody after murdering his wife and four children in a particularly bloody fashion, a Family Annihilator is what the eggheads at the Behavioral Analysis Unit classed him as. He escaped custody on his way to a lifetime stay at Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas and has been on the run from us ever since, leaving us a trail of bodies from one side of the country to the other, even foraying into Canada and Mexico. This is the closest we’ve come to him in 7 years.”

“The eggheads really want their hands on him alive because he’s unique as far as serial killers go, they usually stick to a pattern and that becomes their thing, and I rarely, if ever changes. But with Merrill, he’s a special snowflake, he changes, he went from the family, to prostitutes, then hikers, then truck drivers, and now, teenage boys, we want to stop him before he changes his stripes again, so to speak. The Bureau refers to him as Mercury, because he’s so fluid and deadly. It wasn’t until recently, with forensic advances, that we were able to attribute dozens of other victims that we had originally thought were completely different killers with varying modes operandi. Personally, this guy terrifies me.”

“Why have we never heard of him? We could have…” Tabitha started to say, but Singleton cut her off, “The powers that be kept this under for wraps for reasons that I was never made privy to, but now, after today, they can’t hide this anymore. They’ll have to give us more now, or at least give us a deadly force option, he’s responsible now for the deaths of nine of our best tactical operators. That’s on my conscience because I underestimated the lengths he would go to escape and evade us, but this was calculated, that bomb was waiting for us. And that’s not all, when the explosive ordnance disp… I’m sorry, when the bomb squad finished clearing the residence, they found several… disturbing things.”

He paused and chewed his bottom lip a bit, as if trying to decide to tell us. “We found what we believe to be several graves, which means he’s been active and we will be unaware of if he has changed anything in regards to his M.O. until we autopsy the victims. One of the oddest things was a book of knock-knock jokes, we have no idea if theirs any significance to it.” Singleton shrugged, dismissing the statement he’d just made. I felt my intestines turn to ice and I was on my feet and sprinting down the hallways before my brain came to a full realization of why. Andi.

The world started to come back to me a little at a time as I ran, people shouting at me for running in a hospital, the pain in my feet from the glass I’d stepped in earlier, the dull quality to sounds from the blast damage. I got to the room where we’d left Andi with the undercover FBI agent. I pushed the door open to an empty room. I heard a groan from the other side of the bed, I scrambled around the side to see Samuels gasping for breath through the ragged hole in his throat, foamy blood surrounded the wound and streamed down his chest. “Where’s Andi!?” I screamed at the dying man. Fear and sorrow filled his eyes just before he died and he pointed above his head to the bed-side table. There was a note.

“Knock Knock, Neighbor, (turn over)”

I felt a paralysis of sorts set in as my mind filled in the blank, “Who’s there?”

I turned over the note as I heard Tabitha and Singleton come into the room behind me.

“Nobody, bye bye.”