#What happened to the lost colony at Roanoke

[captain-safetypants]

this was hard.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Croatoan | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: implied suicidal ideation, canon violence, canon gore, medical stuff lol

Word Count: 6176

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Sam had another vision; one involving Dean killing some dude strapped to a chair. Apparently, the dude had been begging, saying, “It’s not in me!” 

‘What’s not in him, though? A demon? THE demon?’ you thought as he relayed his story.

“Well, I’m sure he had good reason,” you told Sam when he was finished.

“Well, I sure hope so—”

“What does that mean?” Dean grunted.

Sam didn’t reply.

“I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man,” he scoffed.

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

“He wouldn’t, Sam,” you stated, your tone warning.

“I never said he would!”

“Sure seemed implied,” you commented.

“Look, we don't know what it is,” sighed Sam. “But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what.”

“Fine,” Dean said.

“Fine,” said Sam.

The rest of the drive to Crater Lake, Oregon, was done in silence. 

***

You pulled into the small town of Rivergrove along the main strip of small businesses and homely apartment complexes. Most of the shops almost looked like wooden cabins, and you approached a man sitting under one of the wooden overhangs cleaning a rifle. 

“Morning,” Dean called.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” He turned to you.

“Yeah.” Dean pulled out his badge. “Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Kymberly Herrin. U.S. Marshals.”

The man furrowed his brows. “What’s this about?”

“We're looking for someone,” he answered.

“A young man, early twenties,” added Sam. “He'd have a— a thin scar right below his hairline.”

The man seemed surprised. “What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us,” Sam replied. 

“Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet,” Dean chuckled. He looked down at the intricate tattoo on the man’s forearm. “I think maybe you know who he is… Master Sergeant.” He smiled. “My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal.”

“What company?” the man asked.

“Echo-2-1,” Dean replied, smiling proudly. 

Sam got back to business. “So, can you help us?”

The man hesitated before talking again. “Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

Dean nodded. “Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?”

“With his family, up Aspen Way.”

“Thank you.”

You bumped into a telephone pole as you and the brothers headed back to the car. You looked down at it, and something caught your eye. There was a single word etched into the pole: “CROATOAN.” You brushed your fingers over the etching. “Guys, look.”

“Croatoan?” Dean read.

“Yeah.”

Dean looked at you blankly.

Sam gave him a look. “Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?”

“Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world, How bills become laws…” Dean trailed off.

“That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock,” Sam scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Anywho,” you cut back in. “Roanoke was one of the first English colonies— late 1500s-ish?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that,” Dean said excitedly. “The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.”

“Yeah. There were theories,” you continued. “Native American raid, disease, famine, but nobody really knows what happened. They were all just… gone. Wiped out overnight.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean—”

Sam cut him off with a sigh. “Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?”

“Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so…” Dean trailed off.

“We should get help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?” Sam suggested.

“Good idea,” you said. You pulled out your phone to call Bobby, only to discover you had no signal. “Great. No signal.”

The two brothers took their phones out as well. 

“Huh, me neither,” said Sam. 

“Nada,” Dean stated.

“Payphone, maybe?” you tried, leading the boys over to one. Unfortunately for you, all you heard was a beeping to signify no signal. “Line's dead.” You hung up the phone.

“I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step,” Dean noted, pointing at the payphone. 

***

You pulled up in front of a homely, slightly tacky cabin. Sam rapped his knuckles against the door, and almost immediately, a teenage boy opened it.

“Yeah?” he grinned.

Dean flashed his badge. “We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?”

“Yeah, he's my brother,” the boy nodded.

“Can we talk to him?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Oh, he's not here right now.”

“Do you know where he is?” Dean pressed.

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Your parents home?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, they're inside,” the boy nodded.

“Jake?” a voice called. ‘Oh, that’s his name.’ “Who is it?”

Dean spoke as the owner of the voice appeared. “Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane.”

Mr. Tanner seemed confused. “Wh— Why? He's not in trouble, is he?”

“No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all.” Dean flashed a winning smile.

“When's he due back from his trip?” questioned Sam.

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows.”

The man’s eerie smile was far too cheerful for the current conversation. “No, I don't know, she's not here right now.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Your son said she was.”

Jake seemed caught. “Did I?”

This whole thing was weirding you the hell out.

“She's getting groceries,” Mr. Tanner smiled. “So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?”

“Oh, no,” Dean said. “We'll just check in with you later.”

The three of you turned back down the steps, and you waited to talk until you heard the door close. “That was kind of creepy, right? Little too… Stepford?”

“Big time,” Dean replied.

You headed around the back of the house, ducking down to avoid being seen by the Tanners. You caught sight of a poor woman with mussed up blonde hair tied to a chair sweating and crying. You cocked your gun as Dean kicked in the door, and you quickly shot Mr. Tanner in the chest when he tried to charge you with a knife. You turned to Sam and Dean who were over by the window.

“He got away,” Dean grunted, referencing Jake who had leapt out of the window.

“Great,” you sighed. You turned your attention back to the woman in the chair and noticed a profusely bleeding wound. “Dean, start the car. Sam, get her to the backseat. I’m gonna patch her up as best I can til we can get to a doctor.”

The boys nodded and rushed to do your bidding. You rushed to the trunk of the Impala and pulled out your makeshift first aid kit— a collection of wraps, bandages, antiseptics, antibiotics, sutures, sewing needles, thread, and painkillers you gathered from random pharmacies and kept in a small, vintage tin box with roses etched into the lid and occasionally refilled. You hurriedly got in the backseat with the woman, and you kept her conscious by asking her questions about herself. You learned her name was Beverly, and that her two sons, Duane and Jake, went fishing and hunting together all the time. Her first sign that something was wrong was that Jake didn’t go with his brother on the trip. After her hiccups mourning the death of her husband— for which you profusely apologized to her— and hissing in pain as you kept pressure on her wound, you finally arrived at a small clinic on the main stretch of road. 

You held the pressure on her shoulder as you led her into the clinic, yelling, “Doctor! We need a doctor!”

A young woman in a pleasant floral jacket and cute pink headband came rushing out, concerned. “Mrs. Tanner, what happened?” she asked the woman on your shoulder.

“She’s been attacked,” you explained, hurrying past her.

“Dr. Lee!” the young woman called.

The doctor instructed you to head down the hallway into an examination room. You gently placed her down on the bed, and Beverly moaned as you shifted position around her to continue holding her shoulder. The doctor came into the room moments later followed by Sam and Dean, who stood at the doorway. You filled the doctor in on the medical history you’d gathered from Mrs. Tanner on the way to the clinic, and the doctor immediately set to work stitching the wound. You tossed the tattered and bloodstained jacket Mrs. Tanner had been wearing into the garbage and washed your hands up to your elbows. 

Beverly began to explain what happened to the doctor, who seemed shocked. “Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?” the doctor asked.

Beverly nodded. “They beat me. Tied me up.”

“I don't believe it,” the young nurse breathed out. 

“Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?” Dr. Lee questioned.

“No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them.” Beverly shook as she spoke.

You walked out into the hallway with Sam and Dean.

“Those guys were whacked out of their gourds,” Dean commented.

“Ya think?” you snorted. “And what I don’t understand is, if they already beat and subdued her, why put that giant gash on her shoulder? That wound was fresh; like it happened this morning. Everything else seemed a few days old, at least.”

“Yeah, this whole thing is weird, man,” Sam added. “What do you guys think? Multiple demons, mass possession?”

“If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be like a friggin' Shriner convention,” Dean grumbled. “Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside.”

“I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs,” Sam reminded his brother.

“Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you woulda taken out the other one, there'd be one less to worry about,” the older brother chided.

Sam huffed, “I'm sorry, alright? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!”

“Boys, relax!” you scolded, standing between them.

Dean looked over your head at Sam. “No, it was an ‘it’. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam.”

“Dean,” you murmured harshly. 

Dr. Lee stalked out of the lab, heels clicking loudly on the floor to let the brothers know it was time to stop arguing. 

“How is she?” you asked her.

“Terrible! What the hell happened out there?” she questioned.

“We don't know,” Dean shook his head.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.” Dr. Lee crossed her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you told her. “All of us would’ve been dead if I hadn’t.”

“Maybe so, but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner —”

Sam cut her off. “Phones are down.”

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?” Dr. Lee pleaded.

“Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else,” Sam said.

The blonde ran a hand through her hair and began to pace. “I don't understand what is happening.”

“How far is it to the next town?” you asked her.

“It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“Alright, I'm gonna go down there, see if I can find some help. You’re coming with me.” He looked down at you before clapping Sam on the shoulder. “My partner 'll stick around, keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” Dr. Lee questioned pointedly.

“We'll get back to you on that,” Dean responded. He then led you away from Sam and Dr. Lee and out to the Impala.

“What’d you do with Mr. Tanner?” you asked him.

“He’s in the lab somewhere. Man’s heavier than he looks,” he joked as he began to drive off.

“Dean, I killed him,” you mourned. “He was just a guy. Now, his two sons don’t have a father. He was a person.”

“(Y/N), since when are you all morally gray?” Dean questioned gently. His usual bite behind his sarcasm was missing. “I get it, but he wasn’t ‘just a guy’ anymore.”

“I know that,” you said. “That’s what I’m starting to get worried about. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice. Vamps used to be people. Hell, one of my first vamp kills was my parents. I don’t know what’s happening to me, man. I don’t hesitate— hell no— but… I don’t know.”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached across the seat and grabbed your hand. “I’m a straight shooter, too. I’m in the same place you are.”

You scooched across the bench seat and kept your hand entwined with Deans, playing with his fingers. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed it, eyes never leaving the road. 

“Things keep getting weirder, dude. Since when do we second-guess?” You tried to muster a laugh, but your heart wasn’t in it.

“I know. This whole thing is spinnin’ out of our control. I hate it,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, me, too,” you murmured. “I wish we could’ve met under normal circumstances.”

He chuckled. “Hm. Me, too.”

The rest of the drive was spent hand in hand and silent. You continued to play with Dean’s fingers and kept your head on his shoulder. Only when you saw two cars blocking the road and men standing with their large guns drawn did you pull your head up. Dean’s grip on your hand tightened— whether to reassure you or himself, you weren’t sure— as he rolled to a stop. You noticed one of the men in front of you was the teenager from the Tanner house, Jake. He stopped the car, frowning. Something banged on the roof of the car, making both you and Dean jump. His hand never left yours, and he shifted his body toward the man leaning down into the window almost protectively in front of you. “Oh-ho-ho. Hey,” Dean awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry. Road's closed,” the man at the driver’s side window grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that. What's up?” Dean questioned.

“Quarantine,” was his simple reply.

“Quarantine? Why?” you asked. Dean stiffened and tried to hide you more with his body when you spoke.

“Don't know,” the man tsked. “Something going around out there.”

“Uh-huh. Who told you that?” Dean asked, sass lying just below the surface of his tone.

The man’s face was blank when he responded. “County Sheriff.”

“Is he here?”

“No. He called. Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little?”

Dean laughed nervously. “Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way, sorry.”

“I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute.” The man’s stoicism was beginning to drop, and the anger bubbling just below the surface was becoming visible.

“Yeah, I'll bet you would.” Dean released your hand to quickly throw the car in reverse. The man grabbed his collar and held on for dear life as you tried your best to pry his fingers off. Thankfully, Dean swung the car around, finally cutting the man loose, and sped away. The sound of guns firing at the car filled your ears, but none of the bullets seemed to be hitting their desired target.

“You okay?” Dean asked you, throwing you a worried look.

“Yeah,” you heaved. “You?”

“Peachy,” he grunted.

Suddenly, the ex-military man you first met in town stepped in the path of the Impala, brandishing a rifle.

Dean slammed on his brakes, and you put your hands on the dashboard to steady yourself.

“Hands where I can see 'em!” the man yelled.

“Son of a—” Dean grumbled, holding his hands up. You did the same.

“Get out of the car! Out of the car!” he commanded.

You slowly slid across the seat to the passenger’s side door as Dean started climbing out. You took the opportunity of your hands being hidden behind the door to quickly whip out your handgun.

“Drop the gun!” you ordered.

“Put it down, now!” the man yelled back at you. “Are y’all part of 'em?!” 

“No!” Dean answered. “Are you?”

“No!”

“You could be lying!” Dean protested.

“So could you!”

“Alright! Alright,” you broke in. “We could do this all day, alright? Let's just, uh, let's take it easy before we kill each other.”

The sergeant relaxed slightly. “What's going on with everybody?”

“I don't know,” you admitted.

“My neighbor— Mr. Rogers, he—”

Dean interrupted the man. “You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?”

“Not anymore,” the man responded gruffly. “He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone.”

“We’re heading over to the Doc's place, there's still some people left,” Dean explained.

“No, no way. I'm getting the hell out,” the older man stated.

“There's no way out, they got the bridge covered, now come on,” the older Winchester said.

“I don't believe you,” the man replied.

“Fine, stay here, be my guest.” It was then you noticed Dean was pointing a handgun at the man, too, who hesitated before walking over to the backseat of the Impala. He swapped his rifle for a handgun as he stooped down into the backseat, and you kept your gun trained on him over the back of your seat. The older man kept his gun aimed at you, but his eyes would frantically flick to Dean every now and again.

Dean looked between you and the man and put his gun away to be able to drive back to the clinic. “Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive.”

You pinned the sergeant to his spot in the backseat with a hard glare and your gun on him. He returned your glare and pointed gun the whole way to the clinic. Despite your aching arms, you refused to falter. “What’s your name?” you asked him, still on your guard.

“Mark.”

“Mark. Nice to meet you, Mark,” you smiled despite your situation.

Dean slowed to a stop in front of the clinic, and you and Mark mutually agreed to relax your guns. 

“Sammy? Open up!” Dean banged on the door to the clinic. 

Sam appeared at the glass a few moments later and allowed you inside. You kept your gun cocked and in your hand but pointed at the floor. 

“Did you guys, uh, get to a phone?” Sam questioned, looking between the three guns you were all brandishing.

“Road block.” Dean turned to Mark. “I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside.”

Mark looked between the three of you, hesitating, before heading inside.

“What's going on out there, guys?” Sam asked.

“Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. I mean, Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus.”

Dean snorted. “Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she's right.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Really,” Sam answered. “And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The, uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“Cool. Demonic virus,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare,” Sam added.  “At least it explains why I've been having visions.”

“It's like a Biblical plague,” noted Dean.

“Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony,” Sam began. “Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “Well, that— that's terrific. Why here, why now?”

“I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people—”

Before any of you could speak, Mark called from the back of the clinic, “They've got one! In here!”

Dean entered the room behind Sam. “What do you mean?” he asked Mark.

“The wife. She's infected,” Sam explained.

“We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get,” Mark urged.

You hesitated, but only for a moment, before brushing past Sam and Dean into the lab with your gun drawn. 

“Whoa!” the sweet nurse from earlier exclaimed. “You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?”

“Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?” Sam pleaded.

“Can you cure it?” You turned toward Dr. Lee.

“For God's sake, I don't even know what ‘it’ is!” she cried.

“I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through,” Mark told you.

“Just leave her in there, you can't shoot her like an animal!” the young nurse said.

You slowly walked over to the door of the utility room Beverly was being held in. You, Dean, and Mark held your guns steady on the door. Sam carefully opened it to reveal Beverly huddled on the floor in a corner, crying into her knees. She jumped as you approached. “Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them!” She pointed at you, Dean, and Sam, who stood over your shoulder. “They locked me in here, they— they tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!”

“You sure she's one of 'em?” Dean asked, looking at his brother. 

Sam nodded. Mark pulled back, looking distraught, and you took the opportunity to step forward. 

In an attempt to hear as few of her cries for mercy as possible, you quickly fired one shot square between her eyes. Guilt immediately clawed at your throat, and you thought you could throw up. You stowed your gun and crouched beside her crumpled form. You moved her into a less disturbing configuration, laying her on her back with her arms crossed over her chest. You closed her paralyzed, open eyes and brushed through her hair with your fingers. With the back of your hand, you wiped your own eyes and stood, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you. 

Choked up, you pushed past a concerned Sam and Dean and headed out to the car. You grabbed your duffel bag to have some reason for going outside from the trunk when you heard a sound from down the street: a car approaching. Your breath caught, and you ducked behind the wall of the clinic’s entrance; back pressed to it. You peeked out briefly to see Jake was the one driving the car with the man who had tried to kill you and Dean earlier. Soundlessly, you slipped back inside the building and turned the lights at the entrance off. 

You locked both the door to the entrance and the door to the waiting room behind you, hurriedly pulling down the shades and turning off as many unnecessary lights as possible. You turned the light off in the waiting room and stormed into the lab where everyone was huddled together. You pulled down the shades behind Dr. Lee wordlessly.

“(Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re here. Everybody, get yourself a weapon from my bag if you know how to use one. Don’t grab one, get injured, and then get infected, got it?” you ordered.

Sam nodded and grabbed your bag from you. He threw you your bowie knife and pulled a hunting knife from the duffel for himself. 

The young nurse, who you learned was named Pam, dropped a vial of blood, and she screamed. “Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?”

Dr. Lee tried to calm her down. “You're clean, you're okay.”

“Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go!” Pam cried.

“No, we can't because those things are everywhere,” Dean stated firmly.

Pam began to sink to the floor. “Oh god!—”

“Hey, shh, shh,” Dr. Lee told her.

Sam turned to you and Dean who stood together by the lab’s entrance. “She's right about one thing,” he said just loud enough for the two of you to hear. “We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here, get to the Roadhouse? Somewhere. Let people know what's coming.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dean nodded. “Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty.”

“Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice,” Mark cut in. “Lots of folks up here are good with rifles— even with all your hardware we're- we're easy targets. So unless you've got some explosives…” he trailed off.

You looked up at the shelf of medical supplies and turned to Sam. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Yeah, actually.” He grabbed a bottle of potassium chloride and waved it at you.

“I’m lost, what’s happening here?” Dean questioned. “Speak, nerds.”

You deadpanned at him. “Potassium chlorate bombs. I’ve gotta figure out a way to ionize the chloride and get some oxygen in it; otherwise, this’ll never—”

Your explanation was cut off by a loud banging on the door.

“Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!” the voice called as you approached the door.

“It's Duane Tanner!” Mark announced. He opened the door to let him in, and you grabbed your gun in your jacket immediately.

“Thank god,” Duane breathed out, walking into the clinic. 

Mark locked the door behind him. “Duane, you okay?”

Dean quietly asked Sam, “That's the guy that I, uh—” he clicked his tongue.

Sam nodded, seeming shaken.

“Who else is in here?” Duane went to step into the lab, but Dean grabbed his arm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief,” he said. “Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

Dr. Lee led your group into the lab. “Pam?”

Pam seemed to understand what that meant and moved to gather medical supplies.

“Who are you?” Duane asked Dean.

“Never mind who I am. Doc.”

Dr. Lee nodded nervously. “Yeah, okay.”

“Duane. Where you been?” Mark asked softly.

“On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I— I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?”

Your heart squeezed in your chest and bile rose in your throat.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dean whispered to you. 

You could barely hear him over your heart pounding against your ribcage. You then noticed a deep gash in Duane’s left leg. “He’s bleeding.”

“Where'd you get that?” Dean interrogated.

“I was running, I must have tripped.” Duane’s cool tone was making it difficult to read whether he was infected or genuinely had no idea what was going on.

“Tie him up, there's rope in there,” the older brother ordered. You complied and dug the rope out of the supply closet.

“Wait—” Duane said, attempting to stand.

“Sit down!” Dean commanded, pointing his gun at Duane.

“I'm sorry, Duane, he's right,” Mark agreed. “We've gotta be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?” Dean questioned, not answering the young man’s question.

“No, what the hell? No!” Duane frantically answered.

“Doc? Any way to know for sure, any test?” Sam questioned. You could tell he was trying to deescalate the situation before his vision came true. 

Dr. Lee sighed. “I've studied Beverly's bloodwork backwards and forwards.”

“My mom!” Duane cried.

Dr. Lee continued. “It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so… no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

Sam looked over to his brother. “Dean, I gotta talk to you. Now.”

Dean looked over to you, and you nodded, standing up from where you’d tied Duane to the chair he was sitting in. You drew your gun and trained it on him while the brothers stepped out into the hall.

Dean reappeared a minute or so later.

“Where’s Sam?” you asked him.

He didn’t answer you. He simply cocked his gun and looked past you at Duane. Pam and Dr. Lee startled to their feet, chests heaving as they looked between Dean and Duane.

“No, you're not gonna—” Duane heaved. “No, no, I swear it's not in me!”

“Oh God. We're all gonna die,” Pam cried.

“Maybe he's telling the truth,” Mark tried.

“No, he's not him, not anymore.”

“Stop it! Ask her, ask the doctor! It's not in me!” Duane pleaded.

Dr. Lee shook her head and hesitantly looked at Dean. “I… I can’t tell.”

Duane began to sob. “Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me, I swear, I— I swear it's not in me. No, don't.”

Dean seemed to get choked up, too. “I got no choice.” 

You stared at him, eyes almost pleading him not to pull the trigger. However, you would also respect his choice if he did; you knew the risks. Dean trembled, hesitating, and finally lowered the gun. “Dammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

He left the room, and you followed. Dean let Sam out of the room he’d apparently locked his younger brother in wordlessly and kept stalking down the hall. Sam simply looked after him for a moment before turning back to the lab, but you followed Dean further.

He turned into a dark exam room at the end of the hall. You did so as well, making sure the curtains were drawn as tightly as possible before you flicked on the desk lamp. Dean sat in a chair while you sat in another, facing him. Neither of you said a word for a moment. 

“What made you stop?” you asked him.

He hesitated before answering. “Sam,” he replied simply. “And you.”

Your breath caught at his admission. “Me?” you asked, just loud enough for him to hear. 

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze. 

“Why?” you asked softly.

“Couldn’t let you watch me do that,” he muttered. “And… I want you to see me how I see you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean— You just— You remind me that there’s good out there. In all this crap. You make me wanna be better,” he admitted, gaze still pointed to the floor. 

You reached over and tilted his chin to face you with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. “Dean—”

He cut you off by surging forward to crush his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, winding your hands around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. He cupped your chin with one hand and grabbed your waist with the other. You kissed once, then again, then one final time before simply resting your foreheads against each other’s. You nudged his nose with yours, eyes still closed, and he stroked circles on your hip with his thumb. 

The two of you were broken apart by the sound of a scream and two shots being fired off. You barely shared a look before sprinting toward the sound with your guns drawn.

“It’s Sam,” Mark told you. “He’s infected.”

Your jaw went slack at the sight of Sam on the floor with an open wound on his chest and Pam lying dead on the floor beside him.

“Oh, god,” you breathed out, turning to see Dean completely shocked and terrified.

*** Your group had Sam tied to a chair with a bandage over his wound. Dean was angry, and Sam seemed defeated. Your heart broke for both brothers and for the fact that you were gonna lose an amazing friend soon. 

“Nobody is shooting my brother,” Dean stated firmly.

Duane argued, “He isn't gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.”

“Nobody is shooting anyone!” you shouted. 

“He was gonna shoot me!” Duane gestured toward Dean.

“You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!” Dean grunted.

Sam’s sad voice caught everyone’s attention. “Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself.”

“Fuck that,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things,” Sam pleaded.

“Sam, we've still got some time—”

Mark cut Dean off. “Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this.” He pulled out his gun.

“I'm gonna say this one time— you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? Do I make myself clear?!” Dean growled.

Mark’s face was set in hard lines. “Then what are we supposed to do?!”

Dean tossed Mark his kets. “Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now. (Y/N), you go with them.”

“Dean, no!” you said. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Sweetheart, you have to—”

“No!”

“Guys, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance!” Sam cried.

Dean turned to his younger brother. “You're not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

Mark chimed back in. “No, he's right. Come with us.”

Dean just stared at him.

“Okay, it's your funeral.” He led Duane and Dr. Lee out the door.

“Thank you, for everything,” Dr. Lee told you as she left.

“Don’t mention it,” you said halfheartedly.

She shut the door behind you, and Sam began to cry.

You were repeatedly surprised by Dean’s sense of play and slight immaturity at the grimmest of moments. “Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something.”

“Don’t do this,” Sam pleaded. “Just get the hell out of here.”

“He’s right, (Y/N), you should leave,” Dean tired.

You crossed your arms and spoke with authority despite your soft tone. “Dean, we’ve discussed this already. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Give me my gun and leave,” Sam begged.

“For the last time, Sam. No,” Dean stated.

Sam slammed his fists against his chair. “This is the dumbest thing you've ever done.”

“Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?” Dean shuddered.

“Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you two,” Sam sobbed. “You can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?” Dean admitted.

“What?” you and Sam breathed out.

Dean pulled his handgun out of his waistband and put it on the file cabinet behind him. “I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life… this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it.”

Sam scoffed. “So, what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has—” 

“You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but…” he trailed off.

“What is it about?” Sam questioned.

A knock at the door broke the tense silence settled over the room. “You'd better come see this,” Dr. Lee called through the door.

You quickly untied Sam and brought him out to where Dr. Lee, Dean, Mark, and Duane were already gathered. 

“There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just… vanished,” Dr. Lee explained.

“Croatoan,” you realized, looking over at the telephone pole opposite you.

***

Miraculously, the virus didn’t incubate in Sam’s blood. Strangely, when Dr. Lee looked back at the Tanner samples, the sulfur was gone, too. Confused and slightly uneasy, you and the brothers packed up the Impala. 

“Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come,” Duane suggested to Dr. Lee.

“I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me. Take care,” she told them.

Mark waved to the three of you as well as Dr. Lee. 

“What about him?” Dean pointed to his brother.

“He's going to be fine. No signs of infection,” she grinned.

You turned to Sam.

“Hey, don't look at me. I got no clue,” he said.

“I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just fuckin’ melted,” Dean griped.

“Why was I immune?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Yeah. You know what? That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.” Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car and pulled away from the town. His words hung ominously over the car for the remainder of your drive.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[stirringwinds]

I can't agree more with your post about how natural languages are intimately tied to power dynamics, culture and personal identity. To make the nation personifications magically understand each other all the time is removing the depth and potential of their relationships with each other.

Since you mentioned that Alfred's first language was a Native American language, it sounds like he was close to the Native Americans as a child, and not only the English settlers. My thought is that Alfred, the personification of what would become the USA, was only "born" after the English settlers arrived. He was raised by Pilgrims, spoke only English and didn't have meaningful contact with the Native Americans. I'm not a fan of the idea that Alfred was a Native American personification who was born before the arrival of the colonists and was "kidnapped" by Arthur, as it implies that the tribe that he represented was the foundation of the modern USA. It makes more sense to me that he was a personification of the Pilgrim settlements when he was born. What are your thoughts on Alfred's "birth" and his relationships with the personifications around him as a child?

hello, thanks for your question!

to start off, i don't headcanon that nations are born the human way, but when they come into being, there are real cultural/linguistic links they have to other nations which I model on historical interactions and influences. my conception of Alfred is that his "birth"/beginnings are linked to Roanoke (aka the so-called "Lost Colony") and Jamestown (and its famine)—less so the Pilgrims/Mayflower in Massachusetts. but that difference aside, Alfred's 'beginnings' in my view certainly stem from British imperialism and European colonisation all the same. so he is not the personification of "Native America", because this would indeed be racist and homogenising: there can't be such a singular personification but would have to be multiple personifications to begin with. All of whom are much older and culturally distinct just like how Asia/Europe/Africa as a continent doesn't have one personification. this is a similar approach I take with my Mexico OC; she is Indigenous/European and spoke Nahuatl and Spanish, but she herself didn't come into being until Spanish colonisation—and there are other older personifications like Tlaxcala and Mexica (who was the head of the Triple Alliance/what we call the Aztec Empire and rivals with Tlaxcala, another pre-Columbian political entity).

so, for me Carolina Algonquian is one of Alfred's first languages—the other is English. the reason why I think he speaks Carolina Algonquian: the real-life interactions (from cooperative (barter, trade) to neutral to hostile—conflicts that happened since obviously the colonists were encroaching on other people's land) that occurred between the colonists and Algonquian-speaking peoples (such as Croatan and also Powhatan) occurred. All these were central to the history and trajectory of the early colonies. further, the research material on early colonial America I based his character on examined the experiences of biracial/multiethnic people and the dynamics of assimilation & cultural imperialism into Englishness that occurred. i'm from an ethnically-mixed family myself, which experienced cultural assimilation because of British imperialism that also resulted in a deprioritisation and loss of our other ancestral languages, so the cultural dimension of imperialism: how people navigate these faultlines, and pass or don't pass as a dominant group is something I'm interested in exploring.

hence, while i personally headcanon Alfred as mixed-race, he is certainly not an older personification that predates European colonisation of the Americas, and Arthur claims him as his son when he finds him with the Jamestown colonists, after the famine—so he isn't really 'kidnapped' because he isn't the personification of a pre-existing, Native nation. the Jamestown colonists don't really 'raise' him either—he appears to them as a young child who can already talk and walk, and they assume he is an orphan of sorts—after which Arthur comes into the picture. Arthur asserted his power by claiming Alfred as his son—just as the English politically claimed their colonial holdings, but Alfred certainly interacted with other personifications like Croatan or Powhatan and others, because that's who the English colonists themselves in Roanoke and Jamestown met. this contact imo, was meaningful in the sense that it was important and extensive—though obviously not wholly peaceful or conflict-free. So, in my headcanon, before Arthur arrived with the relief ship that met the starving Jamestown colonists, Alfred was regarded with some curiosity and at least distinct wariness, if not apprehension, by other nations because despite his familiarity with Carolina Algonquian, they know he is clearly linked to the encroaching English colonists—and they've heard similar stories already, about Mexico and Cuba.

overall, yes, the political/cultural origins of the United States are very much connected to the British Empire's settler-colonialism. For that reason Alfred is Arthur's 'son', because he is English—but he is not just English or European, because the truth of the British Empire is that while there was a racial and class hierarchy that privileged Englishness and then whiteness generally, the actual human communities that shaped the colonies were never homogeneous ethnically/culturally. Biracial/mixed people existed—and those European colonies as a whole were shaped by the varied dynamics of Native and other non-European influences and contact—whether it was involuntary or voluntary, cooperative, neutral or hostile. that's the angle I've personally chosen to take—and I would end off with emphasising that this is just my approach—because I think there's certainly more than one way to approach Alfred's beginnings and cultural identity.

[alltimefail-sims]

LORE TIDBIT TIME WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Did you know Vlad was apart of the settler colony who mysterious disappeared? This is obviously a nod to the Roanoke colony which I think is sooo cool. What do you think happened to Vlad's colony? I like to think Vlad was turned or became a vampire and whipped them out.

HELL YEAH LORE TIDBIT ABOUT VLADDY DADDY!!! 😏

I'm going to treat this as a "deep dive" into Vlad and Forgotten Hollow, so I'll be adding it to my Deep Dive Series tag. Unsurprising to literally everyone, but this is gonna be a long one.

So… let’s get into it! ↓

Going into this I will admit that I actually did know this about Vlad!! I've been wanting to talk about it for forever but have never gotten around to it haha. 🤭 I'm a bit of a history nerd and I love a good spooky story/conspiracy, so naturally the Roanoke Colony was one of my obsessions when I was around 11 or 12 years old.

I think it's an interesting tie in from the sims team, I'd even say it's a bit meta because I feel like the game normally sticks to making references toward itself and its own canon characters/events while generally staying away from anything that would be too direct of a reference to "our world." Personally though I wish they broke the fourth wall more! I like easter eggs or hidden details that make it easier to imagine the characters existing not in their isolated, imaginary worlds, but in ours instead.

It's interesting to think about why the sims team might have made this connection - was it just a cheeky, unserious little wink to a well-known unsolved mystery, or was it done for the purposes of creating implications and expanded lore regarding Vlad and Forgotten Hollow (a case of them showing us instead of telling us). There are so many theories archaeologists and historians alike have had about the lost colony of Roanoke over the years: some believe the Roanoke colonists could have all died by disease or famine, some believe they could have been victims of a deadly storm, some believe they were attacked by neighboring tribes or by Spanish soldiers. Nowadays there are scholars who will argue that no tragedy befell the settlers at all and that they simply relocated (that would be why they left "Croatoan" behind - there was a nearby location referred to as Croatoan Island, now modern-day Hatters Island).

With that in mind, along with Vlad's own refusal to recall the details of this event, it's safe to assume that the sims team isn't referring to the happier Roanoke theories...the 25 colonists of Forgotten Hollow likely faced an unfortunate end.

Your theory of Vlad being turned and thus wiping out the colony (I'm guessing due to new-turn bloodlust) is sooooo compelling, the implications of that scenario are delicious and I personally never thought of it from that angle! My theory is only a little different: I agree that Vlad was turned on the day that the colonists "disappeared" (whatever that implies), but I have always played Vlad's story not as if he was turned and then killed everyone after, but rather that the thing that turned him successfully killed the other colonists but accidentally turned Vlad. It's a really long story that I play around with for fun in my brain but the short-ish version is: Vlad awoke outside - cold, alert, sweaty, dirty and covered in his own blood - but somehow alive, which he was thankful for. His new immortal condition is still unbeknownst to him at this point, but he felt an ache like never before, so deep in his bones it was excruciatingly painful, but his senses were heightened tenfold. He didn't remember much, just that the colony had been under attack the night before. His relief to be alive rapidly melted into abject horror as he found everyone else (friends, neighbors, family, children) dead. He realized soon enough what had happened to him and stayed in Forgotten Hollow where he would be memorialized as its "founder." He spent his days hellbent on retaliation and retribution, but was also steadfast in continuing the work that was began there before the attack. Eventually he does get to face off with the vampire who attacked him and his people, killing it and rising to power in the vampire world. He keeps the events close to his chest because they were traumatizing and cause him sadness, and he's worked diligently to remove himself from his humanity/human memories and from emotions in general (thus how he has become the person we see today). I always thought if he killed the colonists himself the other vampires in his circle - at least his closest confidantes - would know (as he's got quite the massive ego), but they don't seem to have knowledge of this event and they never mention it. I've thought that it could be possible that sharing the memories of this event would make Vlad feel weak, and he's not one to boast in his weakness. He'd much rather rewrite history in a way that is beneficial to his image; dragging up emotions about dead people would not bring them back to life, and by burying this history of a massacre in Forgotten Hollow he is also creating some mystery around himself and making it easier to play the role of a great-great-great-great grandson (or whatever he's pretending to be, relationship-wise) to the original founder.

But that's just how I play with Vlad! 🤷 I could be way off-base lmao!

Regardless of what happened, we know Vlad is the sole survivor of this event and he is scarred by it, impacted so deeply that he only ever vaguely alludes to it with no clear explanation. Whether he killed the colonists himself or just witnessed their death, the sims team will probably never give us concrete answers (and frankly, that's probably for the best considering their track record). But the clever connection of the LOST colony and FORGOTTEN Hollow are clear as day and I just think that is freaking cool! The occult lore in TS4, especially regarding Vlad and Forgotten Hollow, make interesting framework for storytellers and lore-lovers alike! Vlad is one of those characters who has sooooo many interpretations, and I eat up each and every one!

Okay, I think that's all I've got for now! Sorry about my word vomit! Somewhat related: here's an article I recently read on Roanoke that talks about the archaeological finds which have changed some of the discussions surrounding whether the colonists survived or not! I found it pretty interesting and you might as well!

[cipherninethousand]

Oral histories are valuable! And in that same vein, I would like to point out that in the US, there has been a question of what happened to the 'lost' colony of Roanoke for centuries. Indigenous Americans have been saying for years what happened, but they are deemed less valuable as a source since they're not white and it's not documented on paper. Listen to oral histories.

They are so important!

i literally think of that "polynesians first to discover antarctica, not news to maori" headline so much it's so fucking funny

[muddyheritage]

Lost Settlement...

The Lost Colony of Roanoke In 1587, a group of English settlers established a colony on Roanoke Island, to this day people have claimed they have found out what happened when three years later, a supply ship returned, to find the entire colony had disappeared without a trace. The only clue was the word “CROATOAN” carved into a fence post. Despite extensive research, the fate of the colonists…

[5minutemysteries]

In the first episode of 5 Minute Mysteries, we journey back to the late 16th century to explore one of the most enduring mysteries in American history—the disappearance of the Roanoke Colony. Known as the "Lost Colony," Roanoke was established as England’s first permanent settlement in the New World, only to vanish without a trace, leaving behind cryptic clues and countless unanswered questions. Join us as we delve into the theories, from integration with local tribes to more sinister possibilities, and attempt to unravel the enigma of what truly happened to the Roanoke settlers.

Please consider supporting the show by subscribing and leaving a review wherever you get your podcasts. 

An article supporting this episode can be found on the website at https://5minutemysteries.com/the-mystery-of-the-roanoke-colony-disappearance/. 

Check out our other 5 Minute podcasts - 5 Minute Biographies, 5 Minute History, 5 Minute Murder, and 5 Minute Warfare at:

5minutebiographies.com

5minutehistory.com

5minutemurder.com

5minutewarfare.com

[sleepless-cryptid]

First Sighting Of Grimoire

The Quell Grimoire

Quell is an ancient beast unleashed unto the world by an unknown source. Many assume he was released by The Quell Grimoire, one of the many authorless Grimoires of the world. The first recorded sighting of that particular Grimoire was in 1585 during the founding of the Roanoke Colony.  It is said the colony was built in that location due to the colonists being bewitched with the land's beauty, but only few know the real reason as it was hidden by the ship that found them all gone due to the demonic presence that lurked in the aftermath. 

The real findings of the abandoned town were as follows. The town was in fact found empty but with odd items strewn about the area, such as red wolf pelts/skulls and rabbit parts. Some wolf skulls were even noted to have what looked like shark teeth. While the outside was mostly left undisturbed the inside of the larger houses held a much darker vision of what happened to the lost people. What was often found were books and journals written in odd script, or even entirely just backwards. Odd scribbles were also found in the buildings written in a dark ooze like texture, they resembled a chinese like writing combined with other symbols that almost looked like snowflakes.  An altar was found in the basement of one of the homes, the only home having a basement that is. It was crudely dug but the altar itself was clean and neat with white to black ombre candles. Upon the Altar was a book titled “The Quell Grimoire” the book had no author and the finders took and hid it with them in England, where it eventually disappeared. 

[clatterbane]

There was also a LOT of extremely complicated political shit involved, and happening all up and down the coast there during that time period. IIRC those particular colonists were the third group of English people to stay on Roanoke Island for some period of time, and the previous groups had a very bad habit of starting shit with surrounding Native peoples. While being the only handful of English people anywhere in the vicinity.

A little bit more context, coming from one perspective too rarely brought up:

(The Lumbee themselves, per se, basically developed from a federation of area Native peoples and an assortment of other allied folks. Which was a common pattern throughout the Southeast.)

Shit was complicated enough even before considering some other context there. Yeah, about some of that fighting with Spain...

The Spanish and English governments devoted amazing amounts of time and effort to sending people to squabble with each other up and down the coast, for colonial control over trade in other folks' resources. That's why they were so hot on plopping this group of colonists down onto an island where their predecessors had made themselves pretty unpopular with some locals. (How much did most of the colonists know about any of this themselves, going in? Hmm.)

The whole Roanoke Colony endeavor was an absolute shitshow from the beginning, and there were SO MANY things that could have plausibly happened to those particular missing colonists.

It certainly seems very plausible that they did just go and live with some of the Native people who had already been showing interest in strategic alliances/trade agreements--very much with their own sets of goals in mind, I (unfortunately) must add, as rarely as this gets acknowledged for popular consumption. Or they could have been dragged off somewhere on some Spanish ship, likely for forced labor--to make some dubious political point and a few extra real at the same time. Or, or...

We really just don't know, and it's supremely unlikely that we ever will. It is a shame how simplistically pretty much all of this colonial history often gets presented, not least to schoolkids. There are SO many more interesting stories to be told, just from what we do know about still.

Not all of those stories are particularly flattering or politically convenient, of course.

not to be a history fucker on main but the whole mystery of the lost colony of roanoke is so fucking funny

[stefaniaczech]

LOST Colony of Roanoke VANISHES 🎬🕵️‍♂️ with Real Mystery Reels #full #hd.. SO what happened? #mystery #reels #roanoke #ghost #ship #historic #story

[aspenmissing]

𝙲𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚊𝚗 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

Sam, who is lying on the floor beside a motel bed and coming out of having a vision. The door opens and Dean enters, chewing on jerky and carrying a six-pack of beer. Sam sits up, panting.

"Sam?" Y/N asks, worried laced in her voice.

"No..."

==

Y/N is driving, Sam navigating with a GPS device which speaks directions and Dean sat in the back, leaning forwards.

"Continue on O-R Two-Two-Four West"

"There are only two towns in the US named Rivergrove" Sam says.

"How come you're so sure it's the one in Oregon?" Dean asks. Sam has a flashback to the vision- the Oregon poster is on the wall.

"There was a picture. Crater Lake"

"Okay, what else?" Y/N asks.

"I saw a dark room, some people, and a guy tied to a chair"

"And I ventilated him?" She asks, looking to Sam.

"Yeah. You thought there was something inside him"'"

"What, a demon? Was he possessed?"

"I don't know"

"Well, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow...so was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise it?"

"No. Nothing, Y/N just plugged him, that's it"

"Well, I'm sure she had a good reason"

"I sure hope so"

"What does that mean?" Y/N asks, slightly hurt "I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man" Dean raises his eyebrows "I wouldn't!"

"We never said you would!" Dean says.

"Fine!"

"Fine! Look, we don't know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So, let's find him and see what's what.

"Fine" Y/N says, leaning back into her seat more.

"Fine" Dean and Sam share a look.

==

The Winchesters pull into town past a large billboard advertising Crater Lake. They pull up in front of a wooden shop; out front stands an older man, who is cleaning a rifle; he wears a short-sleeved blue shirt with a multi-pocket brown vest. Sam, Dean and Y/N get out and approach him.

"Morning" Dean says.

"Good morning. Can I help you?"

"Yeah" Y/N pulls out a badge "Uh, Kate Dawson, Billy Gibbson, Frank Beard" She says and Dean and Sam nod at their names "U.S. Marshals"

"What's this about?"

"We're looking for someone"

"A young man, early twenties. He'd have a, a thin scar right below his hairline" Sam describes.

"What'd he do?" The man asks.

"Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us"

"Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, no yet" Dean glances down at the man's left arm, which shows a distinctive tattoo "I think maybe you know who he is...Master Sergeant" Dean smiles "My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal"

"What company?"

"Echo-2-1" Y/N answers, with a smile. The man looks to her "My Dad worked alongside his. Good friends" The man nods.

"So can you help us?" Sam asks. The man seems hesitant.

"Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean"

"Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?"

"With his family, up Aspen Way"

"Thank you" They leave; the man frows as he watches them go. Across the street, Sam bumps into a telephone pole and glances at it in passing. He stops; carved into the wood is a single wood: Croatoan. They approach the pole and Sam points at the word with a significant look.

"Hey" The twins look at the pole.

"Croatoan?" Dean asks.

"Yeah" Dean looks at him blankly "Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?"

"Yeah! Shots heard 'round the word, how bulls become laws..."

"That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock" Y/N says.

"You know I blame you for Sammy's smartass talk"

"Roanoke was one of the first English colones in America, late 1500s?" Sam says.

"And the brains" He says to Y/N, he then looks back to Sam "And Yeah, yeah, I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan"

"Yeah. And I mean, there were theories-Indian raid, disease, but nobody knows what really happened. They were all just gone. I mean, wiped out overnight"

"You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean..." Y/N says.

"Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you two thinks could do that?"

"Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so..."

"We should get help. Bobby, uh Ellen maybe?" Sam suggests.

"Yeah, that's a good idea" Y/N pulls out her cell phone, then frowns at it "I don't have a signal" Dean and Sam does the same, shaking their heads.

"I don't either"

"Same" They walk to the pay phone, which Y/N picks up; it starts beeping, and she clicks the receiver several times.

"Line's dead" She hangs up "I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step"

==

The Impala is parked outside a cabin-like house in the middle of nowhere, and Sam, Dean and Y/N approach the front. By the door is a small, tacky plaque that reads 'Born to fish; Forced to work'. Sam knocks on the door, and a teenager boy with dark spiked hair opens it.

"Yeah?" Dean flashed his badge.

"We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?"

"Yeah, he's my brother

"Can we talk to him?" Y/N asks.

"Oh, he's not here right now"

"Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake"

"Your parents’ home?"

"Yeah, they're inside"

"Jake? Who is it?" A voice says from inside.

"Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane" Y/N says as the owner of the voice comes into view.

"Wh-why? He's not in trouble, is he?"

"No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all"

"When's he due back from his trip?" Sam asks.

"I'm not sure"

"Well, maybe your wife knows"

"No, I don't know, she's not here right now" Mr. Tanner says.

"Your son said she was" Y/N says.

"Did I?"

"She's getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?"

"Oh no, we'll just check in with you later" They turn and walk down the steps as the Tanners shut the door behind them.

"That was kind of creepy, right? A little too Stepford?" Dean says.

"Big time" Looking furtively about, they sneak around to the back of the house, crouching below a window. Inside, A woman is tied to a chair and gagged; Jake comes around behind her, hands on her shoulders.

"It's okay, Mom. It's not gonna hurt" Mr. Tanner comes out of the next room with a kitchen knife. Jake stands in front of his mother and casually rolls up one sleeve; his father cuts into his arm and lets the blood drop onto a wound in the woman's shoulder. Outside, Sam, Dean and Y/N arm themselves and kick down the back door. As they rush in, handguns raised, Mr. Tanner rushes at them with a knife; Y/N shoots him thrice in the chest. Jake jumps out the window, shattering glass, and darts off into the woods. Sam aims at him through the window but hesitates, giving him time to get away.

==

Mrs. Tanner is in the back seat of the Impala; as they pull up in front of the clinic Sam helps her out and leads her to the door. Dean and Y/N open the trunk and look around furtively. Sam leads Mrs. Tanner inside; the clinic is quiet, dim, and empty.

"Hello? Hello? We need a doctor here" A young blond woman rushes out, concerned.

"Mrs. Tanner, what happened?" She asks.

"She's been attacked"

"Doctor Lee?" The woman calls and another woman rushes in.

"Bring her in" Mrs. Tanner looks close to tears.

"Okay" The woman leads Sam and Mrs. Tanner into a back room, and Dr. Lee follows. Dean and Y/N enter, carrying the body of Mr. Tanner, who is covered.

"Is that-"

"Mr. Tanner?" Y/N questions.

"Was he attacked too?"

"Uh..." Dean and Y/N share a look "no, actually, he did the attacking and then he got himself shot"

"Shot?" Dr. Lee asks.

"Yeah"

"And who are you two?"

"U.S. Marshals. I'd show you our badges, but uh..."

"Oh. Sorry. Bring him back here"

==

Mrs. Tanner is seated on a stool with her shirt off; Dr. Lee sits across from her, treating the wound on her left shoulder.

"Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?" Mrs. Tanner nods.

"They beat me. Tied me up"

"I don't believe it" The blond woman says.

"Pam. Beverly...do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?" Dr. Lee asks.

"No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them" Sam, Dean, and Y/N are listening to this, and they share a look at her last words.

"We gotta talk" The three exit the lab "Those guys were wacked out of their gourds"

"What do you think? Multiple demons, mass possession?"

"If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be a friggin' Shriner convention" Y/N says.

"Great"

"Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside"

"I don't know, guys. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs"

"Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you would have taken out the other one there'd be one less to worry about"

"I'm sorry, all right? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!"

"No, it was an 'it'. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam"

"Guys come on, don't start fighting now" Dr. Lee stalks out of the lab, her heels clicking loudly on the floor.

"How's the patient?" Sam asks.

"Terrible! What the hell happened out there?"

"We don't know"

"Yeah? Well, you just killed my next-door neighbor"

"We didn't have a choice" Y/N says.

"Maybe so, but we need the county, Sheriff. I need the coroner..."

"Phones are down"

"I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?" Dr. Lee asks.

"Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else"

"I don't understand what is happening"

"How far is it to the next town?" Dean asks.

"It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder"

"All right, we're gonna go down there, see if we can find some help" Y/N taps Sam on the shoulder "Our partner'll stick around, keep you guys safe" Y/N and Dean start to walk out.

"Safe from what?"

"We'll get back to you on that"

==

Dean and Y/N pull up behind a wrecked car with Oregon plates that read 'WTF 4C7'; they stop to investigate, both carrying a gun. The windows on the car are smashed and blood covers the seats; on the ground by the driver's side is a large bloody knife. He picks it up and looks to Y/N, who is looking in the back, which has a car seat for a baby, she then looks up to Dean with a serious expression.

==

Sam is leaning against a counter, staring at the body of Mr. Tanner. He begins pacing; Dr. Lee is nearby, looking at something in a microscope.

"Huh" she says.

"What?"

"His lymphocyte percentage is pretty high. His body was fighting off a viral infection"

"Really? What kind of virus?" Sam asks.

"Can't say for sure"

"Do you think an infection could have made him act like that?"

"None that I've ever heard off. I mean, some can cause dementia, but not that kind of violence. And besides, I've never heard of one that did this to the blood"

"Did what?"

"There's this...weird residue. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was Sulphur" Sam looks to Mr. Tanner's body then back to Dr. Lee.

"Sulphur"

==

Dean and Y/N drive along the road to a bridge, which is blocked by a roadblock consisting of several cars and a half-dozen locals with guns. One is Jake. Dean stops the car, frowning then looks to Y/N who has a similar expression. Something bangs down on the roof of the car and they jump; a man leans over.

"Oh-ho-ho. Hey"

"Sorry. Road's closed"

"Yeah, we can see that. What's up?" Y/N asks.

"Quarantine"

"Quarantine? What is it?"

"Don't know. Something going around out there"

"Uh-huh. Who told you that?"

"County Sheriff" The man answers.

"Is he here?"

"No. He called. Say, why don't you two get out of the car and we'll talk a little" Dean laughs nervously.

"Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way and my friend here is shy, sorry" Dean jokes.

"I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute"

"Yeah, I'll bet you would" Y/N says. Dean puts the car into a quick reverse; the man grabs his collar and is dragged along. The men at the roadblock begin firing, and Dean wings the car around, shaking the man off and zooming away.

"You okay!?" He asks, looking to Y/N "Are you hit?"

"No, no, I'm fine. You?" He nods.

"I'm fine"

==

Sam is staring intently at Beverly, still huddled on the stool in the lab.

"I don't understand. Are you saying my husband and Jake had a disease?"

"That's what we're trying to find out. Now, during the attack, do you remember...did you have any direct contact with their blood?"

"Oh my God. You don't think I've got this virus, do you?"

"Beverly, I don't know what to think. But with your permission, we'll take a blood sample" Beverly nods and lays her hand gently on Dr. Lee's. Suddenly she grabs Dr. Lee's wrist and yells in rage, lashing out with her other hand. Sam advances on her and she tosses him against a glass cabinet, which shatters. She picks up a scalpel as he takes a fire extinguisher from the wall; she advances on him, still yelling. He knocks her out.

[keshetchai]

To be pedantic in return:

We don't know what caused the "classic Mayan collapse", but also the collapse wasn't the end of Mayan civilization by any means. It marked a significant shift away from the center of power. The Mayans still continued to have kingdoms and empires.

Like, Chichén Itzá was partly a post-classic city-state. And the Kʼicheʼ (Quiché) kingdom of Qʼumarkaj was still around by the early 16th century, so was also in the post-classic period.

The Maya people also still exist today, so "what happened to the Maya?" is "well...they're still around?"

Also IS the lost Roanoke colony REALLY a mystery? The word "CRO" and "CROATOAN" was carved into the palisade of their settlement. John White assumed this meant (rather obviously) that this referred to them going to Croatoan Island, where the Croatoans lived.

Roanoke island next to the Croatoan sound.

White therefore assumed that his colony had abandoned the Roanoke Island base, as intended, moving some fifty miles southward to Croatoan, near Cape Hatteras.

Some Croatoans had already visited England.

White also wrote (1590)

I greatly joyed that I had safely found a certain token of their safe being at Croatoan, which is the place where Manteo was born (a croatoan man) and the savages of the island our friends.

Then White wrote:

The next morning it was agreed by the captain and myself, with the master and others to weigh anchor and go for the place at Croatoan where our planters were for that then the wind was good for that place.

They tried to sail to Croatoan, but then a storm hit. They just didn't attempt to sail to Croatoan again after that one storm.

So the mystery, in summary, is:

White and the colony agree they will write out the name of wherever they end up relocating to, as they know they will relocate away from Roanoke. They agreed this is how they would communicate — "agreed upon between them & me..."

White is delayed in his return to Roanoke. He gets there in 1590.

A Croatoan man, Manteo, was the ally of the English colonists, had been to England before, and had introduced some of the Roanoke colonists to the island of Croatoan in 1587.

White finds "CROATOAN" written on the palisade and remarks on his journal that he's glad to have found a sign they (the colony) safely relocated to Croatoan island where they have native allies.

One storm prevents him from getting to Croatoan. Then they never attempt to go to the island again!

Some guy in like, 1701 wrote that the locals of the island stated some of their family were descendents of people who came over under Raleigh.

All archaeological evidence indicates that the colonists of Roanoke did indeed relocate to Croatoan Island, aka Hatteras island. Discoveries have included the famous late 16th century gunlock and the Kendall ring, but also 4 seasons of digging has uncovered significant evidence that the natives in the 1600's "were using European weaponry, iron tools, and wearing pocketwatches," and "—were either living harmoniously with Europeans or had become assimilated with Europeans." (coastal Carolina Indians)

Hm. Mystery. Whatever could've happened to the people who stated exactly where they were going as agreed upon?

When it comes to historical and archaeological evidence this is about as definitive as it gets. We have primary sources detailing friendship with native people of that island, confirmation that the message left was an indication of the location of their settlement as previously agreed on, AND that there was no agreed on distress sign, all the archaeological records corroborate the people on this island having clearly European goods likely by way of trade, cohabitation, or assimilation, and we have a later, secondary source saying he found Native Americans on the island wearing English clothes, who had grey eyes, and who said they (their ancestors) came on Sir Walter Raleigh's ship.

Sorry the Roanoke one drives me nuts, haha. It's like a perfect case study of how popular culture distorts known history.

Saw a friend post a meme about Eoster being the source of Easter and CORRECTING it to say that the source was ACTUALLY Ishtar, and I want you to know that the noise I made was inhuman, darlings.

[rjhamster]

The Search for the Lost Colony of Roanoke

Two decades before Jamestown, settlers arrived in what is now North Carolina. What happened to them is a mystery, but there are some clues. — Read on www.nationalgeographic.com/magazine/article/lost-colony-roanoke-history-theories-croatoan

[raleigh-in-the-garden]

Two decades before Jamestown, settlers arrived in what is now North Carolina. What happened to them is a mystery, but there are some clues.

[allengreenfield]

What Happened to the Lost Colony of Roanoke Island?