#YOU WILL UNDERSTAND. IN SEVERAL MONTHS WHEN I'M DONE WRITING AND EDITING BUT STILL. YOU'LL SEE. YOU'LL ALL SEE.
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every time i think abt freddy in my au i open up the wordpad document and start mumbling shit like "you'll see... you'll ALL see"
#.txt#i'm just like him a lot. ok.#''it's not even an AU it's a canon divergence'' do you understand how much that man would change if he didn't die? YOU WILL.#YOU WILL UNDERSTAND. IN SEVERAL MONTHS WHEN I'M DONE WRITING AND EDITING BUT STILL. YOU'LL SEE. YOU'LL ALL SEE.#also to b fair there are probably other small difference i've made from canon i can't remember rn. idk. it's very . idk it's headcanon-y bu#not in the ''just jam 'em in there'' way in the ''fuck i gotta address this. ok. well i think THIS so we're putting it in there i guess''#i always feel so cringe talking abt my fic but writing it and thinking abt it i feel chill. like if y'all read it i'd be chill and normal#but posting about it i'm like oh. this sounds so gay and lame. but i can't prove it wrong bc it's not DONE YET. WAHHHHHH
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The Deal and the Damage Done
Pt. 1
A Supernatural fanfic featuring a mix of OC's and canon characters
Also, my first fanfic, and I hope it's not too cringe 🙄. I'm a huge dork and not the absolute best with pick up lines unless they're absolutely cheesy, as you'll see in this chapter.
The story will be set in an AU, I am supposing, or perhaps some time after season 15? If any of you have timeline ideas, I am open to them because it's a work in progress. Essentially, a girl meets the Winchester brothers twelve years after her dad goes missing and they may just have the answer to her questions about his disappearance. I am leaning to a little Dean action too! Or Sam! 😄
But I enjoyed writing this, and got the story down in under an hour, with a bit of editing after. Which is an impressive feat for me, because I will typically keep editing and never publish a thing. But I hope whoever reads it gets some kind of enjoyment out of it, because I am already working on more parts. Please feel free to make any suggestions, or ask questions, or comment anything, really. I appreciate it!
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Dad always loved to gamble, and he was always dealt a winning hand. Call it the Jacobs luck, but Dad could bet the deed to Nana’s house and get away with it. Nana would still be running her mouth of course, but that wouldn't stop him. And, he and the house were in one piece. That all changed about the time I was eleven and my little brother, Cash, was nine. Dad went out to the bar with some friends.
It was Saturday night as always, and Mom was warning him about coming back before the crack of dawn. We had church Sunday morning, and she didn't want to tell the pastor that Samuel Jacobs was going to miss another service. Well, Mom saved herself some embarrassment, you could say. Because on that summer morning, Mom, Cash, and I waited for the father that never returned.
I can remember all the details today. I'm sitting at the kitchen table with my little brother, flipping through one of Mom's home goods magazines, and nibbling on burnt pieces of bacon. Cash is sighing loud enough to annoy my mother, who is calling up all of Dad's buddies asking where he is. I can remember her face wrinkled with worry, and how I spent the rest of the day in my Sunday dress helping Mom try to locate Dad. Several days, weeks, and months passed, and then years. The investigation remained open. Last thing Mom ever heard was that Dad was chatting up some guy at the bar, that they left and then he never returned. Friends of my father said he was some pool shark. They thought they heard the name Scratch, or something along those lines. A drifter, they said, that was seen at pool halls and some dive bars.
Mom never really moved on after that happened. I suppose she got by as best as anyone when they lose their life partner, their soulmate. I still try to understand to this day, but I can't really feel much past the burning sensation deep inside whenever Mom and Nana say, “You keep it together, Leah.” I’ve been keeping it together for twelve years now, while everyone else gets a little sympathy.
So, here I am at the local diner on a Thursday night. I'm replaying everything in my head when I remember this was the date that Dad disappeared, June 21st. Cooler now, than when the sun baked my little town earlier, I can still feel the reminder of scorching summer heat in this humid-ass diner. I wish the managers weren't so cheap as to keep the thermostat up. Anyways, the minutes turn into hours, and I can only roll so much silverware or refill the already full napkin dispensers. So, I just bide my time, watching for the time I get to go home and cook dinner. That's when they come in.
Two of them. Handsome visitors I’ve never seen before. One just slightly taller than the other. But, I’m drawn to the one with the dark blonde hair and beautiful green eyes. They grab the booth in the most out of the way corner of the diner, which lo and behold, is my section. I could slap myself, I can't believe my luck. And on top of being the best looking customers I’ve had, I finally have company to occupy an otherwise boring shift. So, I plaster on my best smile and go to greet the guys. “Alrighty then, gents, how are we doing this evening? Can I start you with anything?”
The men were clearly in a conversation, when I interrupted them, and normally I’d be a bit sorry. But, I'm eager to stop staring at the clock and then maybe I’m just a bit nosy.
Whatever awkwardness there may have been melts away when the blonde flashes his devil-may-care grin. “Sure thing. My partner and I will have two black coffees, a salad and a bacon burger for me, and uh, you got any pie?”
“You bet, hun. Best cherry pie this side of West Virginia.”
“That the only good thing?” he says, giving me that cheeky grin, while the brunette rolls his eyes and looks away.
“Don't know,” I say, smiling back. “Depends on what you like.”
My fiance likes to tell me that I'm a shameless flirt, and I tell him it never means anything. It really doesn't, except for a good tip perhaps, and his phone number at the top of the merchant receipt.
“You seem like you know your way around,” the blonde continues.
“Can you tell me if you’ve seen anything going on around here lately? My partner and I, we’re detectives for the local precinct. Heard about some disappearances, anything?”
This, of course, catches my attention immediately. I see my manager out of the corner of my eye, but I continue my conversation anyways. “Hey, uh, you don't mind if I take a seat, do you? It's dead here. I think I have some time to kill.”
“No, not at all,” answers the brunette, who moves over so I can take a seat. I now have their undivided attention, which is rare any time I share about my dad in this town. For the next hour or two, I relay the same story I’ve given anyone, who had all dismissed the case by now, though my family and I know better. Both men take turns asking me questions, and I begin to wonder if I had been onto something for the past years since Dad disappeared.
“ Is this guy, the one that left with my father, he’s still out there, right?” I ask, and I feel a lump in my throat.
“You could say that,” the blonde says, but I can see in his eyes something much worse, and I’m afraid to ask further questions for the first time in awhile.
“What we’re trying to get at, Leah, is we may know where your dad is.”
“That's impossible,” I say, shaking my head. I haven't heard of one cop yet that has ever had any leads, and I am more curious now than before.
“Not one cop in this county, or all of West Virginia, has ever found anything on my dad. And I should know, my brother and I have looked through anything and looked anywhere to try and locate Dad. I don't know, maybe this was a mistake for me to talk about something like this." It scares me for a second. I wonder if I am as crazy as my brother, who's even more adamant that our father is still out there somewhere. This isn't something I normally talk about, except with family. Most anyone else would say I should have moved on. But with the Jacobs family, it's hard to say that things ever really stay buried.
“Wait, Leah,” the blonde says, grabbing my hand.
“You don't have to believe everything we say, but I'm telling you, there are other people out there, just like your dad, who are in trouble. We can help you, if you just trust us.”
I’ve known enough crooked people in my life to never immediately take someone at their word. Even my father. I don't know how these guys think I’m going to put my own life in their hands, much less anyone in my family. But, my already burning interest gets the better of me.
Sitting back down, I rummage for a scrap of paper and finagle an old receipt from a pocket. Pushing the wrinkled piece of paper towards the blonde would-be cop, I state my terms. “Okay, I may work with you. But, I’m calling you. Not the other way around. And I would appreciate it if this was between us, because my family’s been through enough. But, swear to God, if anything should happen - my brother's a corn-fed son of a bitch, and he’ll be out for blood.”
The two men look at each other, not very long, but a second to weigh up what I’m saying.
“Alright, deal,” the blonde says, taking the paper.
“I’ll let you know if I see anything going on, but just so you know, everyone else has declared the whole case a dead end."
“We're not everyone else, sugar," 'ol green eyes says with a smirk, and I hurry them out of the diner. I watch the Impala roll out of the lot. Nice car. And then, I think, it's more than likely I’ll never see them again. The whole thing was odd, when you think about it. No one's ever really asked about my dad in years. I'll just try my best to push it out of my mind, the same as I do around this time each year.
It's ten o'clock by the time I pull into the driveway in the old pick up truck given to me by Charlie, a neighbor further up the road. Old family friend, and he's there when anyone’s in need of something - food, money for rent, or fixing any car trouble. My brother typically helps me with the truck, though, so I almost never need anything like that from Charles. Speaking of, I’m kicking myself. I had meant to ask Cash to look at the truck as the engine barely turned over this afternoon. Now, it's just another day until I find something else wrong.
I’m rushing straight through the door of 1112 Black Oak Lane, and the house is quiet and dark. The only light on is in the sitting room, where Mom is passed out in the recliner. Pretty typical for her on a given evening, but I'm wondering where Cash is because he said he’d be home. Mom’s out like a rock, so I have to shake her awake.
“Mom. Mom! Mom, wake up.”
“Hmm? Oh, hey there sweet pea,” Mom barely gargles out. “What time is it?”
“It's fifteen past ten. Where's Cash? I thought he wasn't going out with friends. It's a work night.”
I know Cash enough that he's bound to go back on his word, but he knows better than to leave any of his family in the dark about his whereabouts. I could just brush this off and leave dinner on the table for him, but the conversation from earlier is still running through my mind.
“ Mom, did Cash tell you where he was going?”
“Going? Cash was in his room, Leah.” I can't trust Mom's memory, judging from the empty bottle of liquor next to her. So, like any of the odd times when Cash goes off without warning, I'm going through the house and checking every other room, the porch, shed, and garage. I even go down to Charlie's house with Mom in tow.
It's after midnight when I‘ve tried everything and no one's heard from Cash. There's one thing I haven't tried. They likely won't answer, but my stomach’s doing flips as I replay that same day twelve years ago. Against my better judgment, I dial the last number I had in mind.
“Hello?” comes the gruff voice from earlier at the diner.
“I need your help. “
#fanfic#spnfandom#supernatural#spn fanfic#dean winchester#sam winchester#mystery#dark fantasy#paranormal#small town gothic#monster hunter
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