#addressing the childhood trauma of sam Winchester | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part 24) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±9400 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 24: John’s presence at the horse show flips Dean’s world upside down, sending him a tailspin that could have serious consequences. Will Y/N and his friends be able to get through to him? Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak, slowburn. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: How Do You Get ‘Em Back - David Ramirez. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand. Guys, this is going to be a heavy one. 9.3K of angst. If you are invested in this story, I suggest you’ll have the tissues ready before you start reading. Godspeed.

Ride With Me Masterlist

“Hello, son.”

Only two words, but it’s more than Dean has heard his father say in a long while. The simple greeting lingers between them, like smog polluting the air, stealing his breath. A force of habit the cowboy assumed was long forgotten has him square his shoulders. After all, if there’s anything John taught him it's that men can’t be weak.

What does he call him? Dad? Sir? The cowboy isn’t even sure and so he decides to keep his mouth closed. Instead, he measures the man before him. He is but a ghost of the parent Dean remembers - or at least idolized for so long. His boots are dusty and worn, the leather tearing at the creases. His clothes are dirty, stains on the white t-shirt he’s wearing under a camel jacket. He grew a beard, the tough hairs grey now. A black cowboy hat hides most of his slick hair, but they don’t conceal the dark circles under his father’s eyes, nor the tale of pain and sorrow that are still apparent. Nothing has changed, really. He just got older.

Dean can feel his knees weaken as his breaths come out shaky, but he is able to stand his ground. He sets his jaw, gritting away the frustration that continues to build, his fists clenched, nails digging into his palm. But it’s more than just aggravation that courses through him; it’s joined with an overwhelming sense of panic and fear. He wants to run, far away from confrontations and the dull blade that is tearing open old wounds. What he would give to go back in time, just an hour or so, to prevent this moment. What he would give to be able to live the life he naively pictured, with his family, with Y/N.

Meanwhile, John watches him, eyes glossed over and wearing a small smile. “It’s good to see you.” Still, Dean can’t speak. He just stares at his father. Even the gentle words falling from John’s chapped lips don’t lift the tension. Where Dean was thankful that the stables were empty just a few minutes ago, he now wishes it was swarming with people, because being cut out from the public eye is not a position the cowboy wants his girlfriend to be in. When John steps closer hesitatingly, Dean moves in front of her, one hand back to make sure she stays behind him. It’s instinct, a reaction that is fed by years of doing the same for Sammy. He did everything possible to protect his brother then, and now he has to do the same for her. Dean has to get her out of here. Now.

The cowboy turns his head slightly, addressing Y/N without letting his old man out of his sight. “You should get Joplin warmed up. I’ll be right there.” “Dean? Are you s--” “Go,” he insists, wincing at the strict tone of his own voice.

John has halted and watches the exchange, his gaze following the cowgirl who moves to the box on her right and takes off the halter of a black horse inside the stable. Without a word but with concern and confusion evident in her eyes - which flick to his before she averts them quickly - she takes the Quarter by the reins and guides the mare out of the stable. When she’s out of earshot, Dean’s father returns his focus to his son. “That your girlfriend?” he wonders. “No,” the wrangler claims, wanting to keep her out of this at all costs. John doesn’t have to know about his relationships with her or with his friends. It will make them vulnerable to his influence. “She’s just an intern,” he adds.

Believing the statement to be true, he dips his chin, nodding slightly, and Dean is able to exhale. At least he got Y/N out of harm’s way, now he just needs to somehow prepare himself to take the fire. It’s been a long time coming, but it’s time to face the faults of the past. He allowed the family to fall apart on that dreadful night when the bond between the Winchesters was shattered to pieces. Dean destroyed it all.

Carefully, his old man moves closer once more, and involuntarily the young cowboy steps back. He doesn’t want to. He intends to stand tall and hold position, but trepidation has him back up before he can stop himself. Apparently aware of the effect he has on Dean, John ceases his attempt to close the unbreachable gap between father and son.

Leaving a safe distance between them, he speaks again. “You’ve grown up to be quite the man, Dean. Your aunt and uncle must have taken good care of you.” More than you’ve ever done, Dean thinks to himself, but he doesn’t say it out loud, too apprehensive for the reaction it might trigger. “They have.” “Well, I’m glad,” John smiles at the ground. “I’m glad you landed on your feet. Do you know if Sammy did too?”

Dean’s eyes fill to the brim before he can blink. He doesn’t know. The big brother who was supposed to look out for him, who was supposed to give everything to provide his younger sibling the safety and care that he deserved, doesn’t know. The question is a punch in the gut, a verification of the fact that he has failed Sam like he has failed so many others. “I don’t,” he admits, doing everything in his power to keep his voice steady. “I haven’t seen him since.”

John sighs, sniffles slightly and glances up, as if he’s mad for a prayer that has been left unanswered. The news does a number on the old guy, and suddenly Dean feels sorry for the man standing before him. His father was already lost when their mother died, and it only got worse when Sam disappeared. The agony it triggered has never left him, just like it never left his son. That loss will always remain, a piece of their heart cut away violently, leaving a hole that bleeds to this day. They both had to settle for a life without Mary and the youngest Winchester in it. As much as Dean wants to hate his father, he simply can’t. He wouldn’t want to wish that kind of torture upon anyone, let alone his dad. It doesn’t matter how many mistakes he has made.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hoped that maybe…” John pauses, shaking his head slightly. “I hoped you boys at least found your way back to each other.”

Dean swallows with difficulty, his bottom lashes barely clinging to the tears that threaten to roll down his face, but he manages to keep it together. He wishes the same, because life without his sibling feels incomplete. God, he misses Sam. And all that guilt, the sorrow, and the uncertainty of his well-being come rushing back to him in a magnitude that he can’t cope with.

John watches his son again, a grown man now, yet still his boy. “I was wondering if maybe we could sit down someday. Have a drink or something, y’know? Try and put this all behind us?”

Astonished, Dean stares at him. A part of him wants to mend this broken relationship, but John must be aware that rekindling the father-son bond will never undo all the trauma their family endured. There’s no going back to how things were, there is no returning to the time the Winchesters were happy. Mom died, and her death set them on a course of total ruination. And yet, Dean can’t answer. He can’t tell his father ‘no’.

“John Winchester!” Hasty footsteps echo between the stable walls, and when the conflicted cowboy glances past his father, he notices Bobby, moving closer with determined strides. A shuddering sigh of relief escapes Dean, and he’s glad the man opposite of him turns around to face his former brother-in-law so that he doesn’t witness the sign of weakness. With his uncle here, he instantly feels safer, knowing that even if this conversation develops into an argument, he has back-up now.

The elder man holds a fury in his eyes that is visible even in the shadows of the worn ball cap he always wears. “You better walk away,” he warns. “We were just talkin’,” John assures, calmly. “I don’t care if you are holding a family reunion,” Bobby sneers. “If you don’t leave right now, I will get my gun and blast your sorry ass so full of buckshot that you will never sit in a saddle again without scratching the leather.”

Dean’s gaze bounces between his father and his uncle, weary of the clash that is about to kick off, as the two older men keep their eyes locked on each other, tension rising by the second. But then, against his expectations, John gives in to Bobby’s request and steps aside. He glances back at his son one last time, giving him a sad smile, before he breaks away and strolls off, shoulders slumped and defeat obvious.

Collecting himself by taking a breath and blowing it out as slowly as he can, the younger cowboy makes eye contact with his uncle, who approaches him until he’s in arm’s reach. He puts his hand on the back of Dean’s neck, gently encouraging the troubled young man to look at him, hoping the touch will ground his nephew. “You alright?” Bobby asks, the lines in his forehead deepening as he frowns. Dean swallows down the lump in his throat and nods, his lips pressed together in a firm line. He can’t speak and has to break away from his uncle’s observant gaze. Bobby’s grip loosens; he’s aware that Dean isn’t ready to expose his true feelings about this unfortunate run-in. “I’m gonna make sure he leaves the premises,” he assures. With those words, the man - who once again has provided him safety - turns away to follow John, committed to matching action with his words if the guy doesn’t take his threat seriously.

Finally alone, the unsettled cowboy tries to inhale again, but his diaphragm seems to have risen to chest height. He can feel anxiety like he has never experienced before in his adult life get a grip on him, and whatever he tries, he can’t stop it. Afraid that his legs might give way, he takes a step to the side and holds on to one of the stable bars, but he still can’t breathe. Unable to hold the frontline in the battle he’s fighting with the overwhelming sense of distress, the tears break through his defense, spilling down his cheeks. Suddenly, he feels sick. He needs to get out, he needs fresh air.

Feeling the bile creeping up from deep inside him as he stumbles outside, he quickly turns the corner behind the tent before he heaves this morning’s partly digested breakfast into the grass. He throws up everything he has been holding, hoping the anguish will leave his body as well, but it doesn’t. When his stomach is empty, he is still left with the same misery. “Fuck,” he chokes out, steadying himself against the steel corner pillar of the stable. He wipes at his runny nose and his tears, sniffling. Get a hold of yourself, Dean, he lectures, you need to keep it together now. He straightens his back, looking down at the mess he made, closing his eyes for a second as he pulls in a careful breath.

“Dean?” Recognizing his friend’s voice, the cowboy turns around. Benny stands behind him, worry in his clear blue eyes. Manning up and finding his footing again, Dean walks up to meet him. The Southerner hands him a bottle of water, and even though the receiver is thankful for having something to rinse his mouth with, he wishes it to be something a whole lot stronger.

Taking a swig, he lets it wash away the sour taste before he spits it onto the ground. After another attempt he realizes that it’s no use and takes a careful sip this time, swallowing it down to put out the fire inside his chest. He glances at Benny, giving him a nod. “I - I’m good,” he says, not just trying to convince his companion. “I’m good.”

Knowing him well, his best friend doesn’t contradict him, even though it’s clear as day the statement is far from the truth. Dean’s eyes are bloodshot, his hand trembling when he moves the bottle to his mouth. “You might wanna get to the warm-up,” Benny reminds him, handing him the headset. The wrangler grimaces. “Shit, yeah. What time is it?” “Two-thirty. Her starting time is in twenty-five minutes,” the Southerner says. “I gotta get goin’,” Dean realizes after cursing again, moving past him to make his way to the arena. He holds up the water bottle as he jogs away. “Thanks.”

Hoping his friend will understand that he’s thanking him for a lot more than just the drink, he hastens away. Right now, he has someone else who needs his support. Y/N has left the stables well over fifteen minutes ago, so he hopes she’s not nervous because of his late arrival. When he finally reaches the fence, he spots her amongst the other riders, warming up Joplin. He can tell she’s focused, or is she upset with him for not being on time? Finding it hard to read her from a distance, he sums it up to a mixture of both. Without disturbing the other competitors, he bends down to duck under the barrier, approaching her and her horse. But when she ignores him completely and continues to work the Quarter on a small circle, he hesitates.

“Y/N?” he calls out, not sure if she saw him from inside her bubble. “What?” she snaps. Taken aback by her reaction, he watches how she keeps circling, slowing down to a walk, but still not stopping to take the headset or even grant him a look. “C’mon, let me help you,” he ushers, holding up the device for her. But when she looks him in the eye, the coldness they behold frightens him. “Why do you even care?” she wonders. “I’m ‘just an intern’ anyway.”

Like she just slapped him across the face, Dean stares at the cowgirl, the daggers she’s shooting at him with her powerful gaze stabbing him right in the heart. No no no, he thinks to himself as he closes his eyes. She wasn’t supposed to hear him say that to his father. He labeled her as an intern only to make sure John wouldn’t be able to get to Dean through his girlfriend. Of course he didn’t mean a word of it! He has to make her understand. “Yankee, I’m sorry. I--” “Forget it, Dean. I can handle myself,” she snarls. “Leave me alone.”

With that, she moves away from her boyfriend, riding Joplin to the other side of the warm-up ring, as far from him as possible. Regretful, her trainer saunters back towards the fence, making his way out of the ring. When he straightens himself, he is met by Jo, who has her arms crossed in front of her chest as she narrows her eyes at her cousin. It’s clear as day that she’s about to rip him a new one as well. “What did you do?” she demands to know, sternly.

Dean looks at her, opening his mouth to answer, but unable to even utter a word. I fucked up, that’s what I did, he realizes. Like he has fucked up everything else that was ever good in his life. He doesn’t reply, though, and instead shakes his head, admitting his loss. “Here.” Dean hands her the small device with a microphone attached to it, his fingers still trembling. “Help her if she needs assistance, alright?” Perplexed, she watches him walk off. She at least expected a counter with a claim that he didn’t do anything wrong. “You’re not gonna even watch her ride?” she asks before he’s too far gone. “I’ll watch from the bleachers. I don’t wanna distract her,” he returns, sadly looking into her eyes before he carries on.

Observing her cousin, an uneasy feeling settles in her stomach. The guilt is oozing from him in great amounts as he disappears in the crowd, his head hanging, the usual upbeat attitude nowhere to be found. What has gotten into him? Something must have happened, something bad. She can’t recall the last time she has seen him this troubled, not since… Jo’s eyes grow a little larger, her brows that were knitted together a moment ago now rising. Suddenly it dawns on her; she hasn’t seen him so thrown into disarray since he arrived at the ranch at fourteen years of age. She might have been only eight at the time, but those memories lingered. The sight of a kid so scared, so depressed, and so broken left an impression. Even as a little girl she knew he had been through hell, and by the looks of her cousin now, it seems like those dark days are catching up with him.

Jo wants to go after the poor guy, but she knows she can’t abandon her best friend. When the steward calls out Y/N’s name, announcing she’s up next, she focuses on the rider again. Right now she is her main priority, because whatever happened between the intern and the wrangler, Jo knows she’s Dean’s priority too.

“Ready?” she checks while quickly drying Joplin with a towel before they head towards the gate. “Yeah, I am,” Y/N assures, pushing Dean from her thoughts. “Remember that it’s fine to pick your first cow from the side of the herd, okay? Don’t set the bar too high. It’s your first time,” the blonde cowgirl offers. “I know,” she assures, even though she’s not planning on playing it safe.

The frustration has morphed into determination, a strong will to prove that she can manage just fine and that Bobby has every reason to dote on her. She much rather feels aggravated than insecure, so she allows the anger to flood the worry, shutting out her usual insecurity. She’s not going to let anyone down, especially not herself.

Concentrated, she goes to the gate, eye for the prize. Joplin already has her ears perked towards the cattle, knowing it’s game time. The clock starts to tick, and with confidence, she guides Joplin through the group of heifers, picking one dead in the middle to single out.

She doesn’t know Dean is watching from the sidelines, and intense sadness filling his soul. She doesn’t know how proud he is when she makes two amazing cuts and she scores 73 points, outclassing him. She doesn’t know that he’s very much aware that his girl doesn’t need him anymore.

Swift strokes brush the dirt out of Joplin’s dark coat. Dust particles dance in the air, illuminated by the orange rays of the setting sun that fall through the window of the stable. The mare allows the pampering, on hindleg resting on its toe, her head hanging low. Big, brown eyes are half closed, falling shut every once in a while. Sleep almost taking the normally feisty horse, the grooming having a relaxing effect on her. It’s almost as if she realizes she’s about to go on a new adventure, and she’s taking this moment to recharge after her run.

Jody has matched Joplin with a great family. A sixteen-year-old girl will be riding her. The teenager and her parents came to meet her new horse right after the great performance, absolutely beaming, knowing this wonderful animal was now theirs. In about fifteen minutes, Joplin’s new owners will be here to take her to their farm in Alamo, New Mexico. The family promised to give the Quarter a forever home, and they showed Y/N pictures of the beautiful barn where the little dark horse is going to live. She’s going to a good place, but the farewell remains bittersweet.

Once the Joplin is thoroughly cleaned, her rider takes her by the halter, raking her fingers through her mane. Y/N has never been good at saying goodbye, but it’s time now. “Be good, okay?” she whispers, letting her hands gently run down the horse’s neck. “And don’t pin your ears back too much. People are gonna think you’re mean, but I know you’re a softy.”

Joplin breathes out a sigh through her nose as if answering the person who has been her companion for the past month. It’s peculiar how fast a bond between human and animal can form. There has been a connection between them since the first time Y/N saddled her up for a trail. The thought of buying the beautiful Quarter herself has crossed the cowgirl’s mind ever since she learned Bobby planned to sell her, but no matter how difficult, this is also an aspect of the business that she needs to get used to. When she will finally have her own stables in a year's time, horses will come and go. She can’t keep every one of them, and so she needs to set Joplin free.

Judging by the hollow sounds under the tent’s roof, the new owners are on their way. She can distinguish Jody’s voice, and Bobby’s too. A girl with long, brown hair and bright eyes peers over the stable door, already glancing at the beautiful horse lovingly. “I bought her new transport boots,” she announces enthusiastically. “Wouldn’t want her to get hurt on the trailer. I also got a rug for when it gets a little colder during the night. Do you think she will like that?” The teenager holds up a red, woolen rug, which matches the leg protection perfectly. Y/N chuckles at the sight. Joplin is going to get so spoiled. “Those look amazing.” She reaches for one of the boots. “Here, let me help.”

They strap on the protective wear together while Bobby, Jody, and the parents close the deal on the other side of the alleyway. After the money is counted, the ranch owner hands over the horse’s passport together with a certificate of ownership, shaking their hands once more. Y/N waits for her boss to look her way, wondering if he - as owner - should give Joplin away, but the old man gives her a friendly nod, telling her without words that she will have the honor.

“Well, I guess this is it,” she says, fumbling with the leadrope. “She’s yours now.” “Thank you,” the young cowgirl returns. “We will take good care of her. Promise.” Not trusting her voice, the Y/N smiles warmly, but there isn’t a doubt in her mind that the family will. She doesn’t want to get emotional, it wouldn’t be professional after all. And so she does her very best to blink the mist from her eyes when she offers the leadrope, handing over Joplin to her new owner.

The family who just gained an additional member exits the stables, heading to the trailers to start their journey home. The rider, the trader, and the rancher watch them leave, all with smiles on their faces. Everyone involved in this sale wins. Y/N can’t help it, though, and has to wipe a lonely tear from her cheek. Jody, who notices, wraps an arm around her shoulder, sheltering and comforting. “Sorry,” the cowgirl excuses, a little embarrassed. “Don’t be sorry, honey,” she dismisses sweetly. “Caring matters, especially when money comes into play. Someone who cares has far better judgment than someone who’s greedy. Remember that.” Y/N smiles at the wise words, storing that piece of advice with all the others she has picked up along the way.

“Pretty good ride,” Bobby compliments his intern, in his own way trying to cheer her up. “Especially at your first cutting class.” Jody glances aside at the ranch owner, not impressed with his choice of words, before pulling the cowgirl closer into a side hug. “Pretty good? Are you kidding me? You absolutely slayed it! If you’re not giving that girl a rider’s fee, I will.” “Oh, that’s really not necessary,” Y/N objects. “No, you deserve it,” he insists while leafing through the hundred dollar bills in a large envelope. “Bobby, it’s okay. I am already super grateful for everything I’m learning and the experiences that I’m gaining. You have already given me a room and a stable, not to mention Ellen’s cooking. You really don’t have to pay me.”

Y/N shortly places her hand on her boss’s to seize his actions, wanting him to stop counting. The Gold Canyon Ranch might have made good money over the past three days, yet that doesn’t mean a financial disaster is avoided. She doesn’t want a share. The old man holds her gaze and she can tell he’s wondering if either Dean or Jo have spilled a little too much information. Maybe it is because of that assumption that he settles and lets it go. “At least lemme buy you a drink, huh?” he offers before he turns to his business partner. “I just have to round a few things up with Jody here.” “Alright, see you in a bit,” Y/N returns.

As the two business partners walk off to look for a private place where Bobby can give the woman who has made the sale possible her commissioner’s fee, the cowgirl slips into the tack room. She decides to start packing, since the crew presumingly will leave in a couple of hours. She has to keep busy, but Dean breaks into thoughts straight away. Sighing deeply, the cowgirl tries to wrap her head around her boyfriend’s reasoning. His words, which had her freeze to the ground for a second as she left him with his father, still ring in her ears. She’s just an intern. Why would he say such a thing? Why hadn’t he expressed that she is his girlfriend? Why did he never mention his father to her? And if he isn’t even able to talk to her about his family, what else is he hiding?

Her train of thought is interrupted by Jo, who hastily rushes around the corner, her restless eyes searching the tack room before she checks the stables. “Have you seen Dean?” she asks, concerned. “No,” Y/N bitterly answers. “Okay, enough.” Jo places her hands on her hips, shifting her weight to one leg. “What the hell is going on with you two?” “You tell me,” her friend responds coldly. “I was under the impression we were doing just fine until Dean wasn’t even able to introduce me. Clearly, I value our relationship more than he does.”

“What are you talking about? He’s crazy about you,” the blonde cowgirl reminds her. “Is he?” Y/N spins on her heels, finally looking her in the eye. “Because for someone who claims to care about me, he sure keeps an awful lot of secrets.” Jo sighs. “Look, I know Dean isn’t the guy who’s very chatty about those kinds of things, but what makes you say that he doesn’t care?” “Because he couldn’t even tell his family - who he failed to tell me about, by the way - that I’m his girlfriend! He told his father that I am just an int--” “Whoa whoa, wait. His father?” Her best friend stares at her bug-eyed, needing a moment to process the information. “His father is here?!” “Yeah, he showed up in the stables earlier to visit him, before I got on Joplin,” she confirms, somewhat confused by her shocked expression. Jo steps towards the intern, grabbing both her shoulders and looking at her intensely. “Are you absolutely sure?” Y/N shrugs a little, not understanding the earnesty. “He looked a lot like Dean, and he called him his son, so I’m assuming.”

Her best friend just gapes at her, her cousin’s demeanor by the warm-up ring suddenly making much more sense. If he had an encounter with his father, his entire world just got turned upside down. Judging by how messed up he was when his only living parent left him to rot when he was still a child, she can only imagine what his return after all that time has set in motion.

“We need to find Dean, now,” she says, grabbing her friend by the wrist and pulling her out of the tack room. “I’ll explain along the way.” Unsettled, Y/N fastens her pace to jog next to the ranch owner’s daughter. “Jo, what’s going on?” “Dean didn’t lie to you when he said that he hadn’t seen his family in a while. In fact, the two haven’t been in contact for fifteen years,” she explains as they exit the stables.

Stunned by the revelation, the cowgirl next to her tries to make sense of it all. Fifteen years? Why would he have cut all ties with his dad for fifteen years? She can’t possibly imagine doing such a thing. Something horrible must have happened, something beyond comprehension. “That still doesn’t explain why he described me as anything else but his girlfriend,” Y/N brings up. “Listen, you don’t know John. He is a manipulative son of a bitch who has played dirty mind games before. If Dean let on that you were just someone working at the ranch, he was trying to protect you.” Y/N stops dead in her tracks, her hand which is still entwined with Jo’s causing her friend to spin around. “He w - what?”

“You need to talk to him,” her friend insists, dragging her into motion again. “My guess is that he found a place to be alone or he’s liquoring up. Either way, your man is spiraling out of control and he's gonna need his girl in order to get out of that vicious circle.” “He - he won’t talk to me,” she stammers. “Not after how I was with him before my run. God, I can’t believe I was so self-absorbed. I thought he didn’t want me there because he was embarrassed of me, and you’re telling me he was making sure I was safe?”

Jo wishes her companion wouldn’t put herself down like that, because the blonde cowgirl honestly gets why she reacted the way she did, being unaware of the family drama. She never thought the day would come, but here she is, defending her cousin’s honor.

“Like I said; he’s crazy about you, Sis. He has never been like this with somebody else, so if there’s anyone who can through to him it’s you. He might try to--” “- push me away, I know. That’s kind of his thing. I won’t let him,” Y/N promises. Jo nods at that, glad she was able to convince her. “Good, now we just have to find him.”

They arrive at the square where all the shops are situated, most of the stand holders packing their unsold products into cars and onto trailers. The sun has disappeared behind the horizon, the skies painted with red. There are a few people around, music coming from the tent further up where the after-party is in full swing. They meet Benny at the crossing, though, who is looking for his friend as well. “Have you seen him?” Y/N asks the farrier, who has the same worried frown on his face as the girls. “I tried the trailers, but no luck,” Benny says. “Stables?” But she shakes her head. “We were just there.”

The three glance aside when a group of young guys stumbles out of the tent, alternated colored beams in their wake, coming from the disco lights inside. The concern that has Jo’s intestines in knots worsens, because if Dean has hit the bar, reasoning with him is going to be problematic.

Y/N enters the tent, backed up by the other two members of the Gold Canyon Ranch. The band plays a happy, upbeat country song that contradicts the alarming anxiety and dread that is riding her nerves like a racetrack. Frantically, she looks around, trying to identify her boyfriend amongst the crowd. She doesn’t see him in the booths on her right, nor around the dancefloor which she and Dean owned two nights prior. Once she convinces him that she understands why he said those things and that he did nothing wrong, she can wrap her arms around him again, comfort him with a kiss and ask him for another dance. He can continue to be the wonderful, supportive boyfriend, making her laugh and making her smile, lifting her up and making her feel appreciated. They can go back to how things were.

Trying to convince herself that everything is going to be fine, she moves through the mass of people towards the beer taps, when she stops suddenly, the wind being knocked from her lungs by the sight in front of her. At the end of the bar, she finds Dean. Not nursing a beer, sad and alone like she expected to find him, but in company of the same girl who was all over him on Friday night as well; Jamie. The cowboy, already intoxicated, leaning into her when the blonde whispers something in his ear, touching his arm as she does. A blind man would be able to see the chemistry, their conversation easy and carefree. The beautiful girl seated on the stool next to her boyfriend doesn’t show a sign of insecurity, her cheerful and confident personality matching Dean’s perfectly. She is everything Y/N isn’t.

Unable to move, she watches the film play out before her, a story of fun and romance that will push her story with Dean to a tragic end. Tears begin to fill her eyes, her breath hitching in her throat. A part of her hopes that he will turn around and see the devastation that his actions are causing, but he doesn’t, occupied by the gorgeous old flame which seems to have ignited something new. He doesn’t even see me, she realizes. He doesn’t see her, because once again it has been made perfectly clear she’s not worth holding on to. That has always been the case whenever it came to love, hasn’t it? So why on earth did she think that with Dean it was going to be any different? And just like that, she’s back to being invisible again.

Abruptly, Y/N turns around, desperately needing to get out of the buzzing atmosphere, but she collides with Jo the second she does. “Woah! Where are you--” Jo steadies her friend when she almost falls over, holding her by her arms. Stunned, she stares into her eyes, noticing how they are glazed over with absolute heartbreak. “What’s going on?”

But Y/N just shakes her head, moving past her hastily; she can’t stay here a second longer. The upset girl struggles towards the exit and ignores Benny, who watches her departure, perplexed. When he straightens himself again, he glances at Jo, as much confusion on his features as on hers. But when his focus locks on his buddy at the bar, his face falls. “That son of a bitch,” he mutters, his remark triggering the blonde cowgirl before him to turn around as well.

Jo’s jaw falls slack, observing as the two order another round of shots. She can’t believe what she’s seeing. She can’t believe she’s witnessing the man who she thought had made a change for the better, now making a turn for the worse. Frustration boils inside of the petite yet feisty woman, who is biting down hard on her bottom lip when she faces Benny again. “You talk some sense into him before he really crosses the line,” she directs. “I’m gonna go after Y/N and see if I can repair the damage.”

The broad-shouldered wrangler nods and watches Jo take off before he goes in the other direction. He pushes through the mass of people who are enjoying the last party of the event, all oblivious to the dramatic scene they are all a part of. He senses that the drama might become a whole lot worse if he doesn’t manage to pull Dean’s head off his ass.

“What do you think you’re doin’, brother?” Benny claps his hand on his friend’s shoulder, interrupting him before he downs the shot waiting for him on the bar. He scoffs. “What does it look like?” “Seems to me you’re about to get a lil’ too friendly with a gal that ain’t yours,” the farrier says with a lowered voice, hoping it will enlighten him. “We’re just having a drink,” Dean counters, annoyed, reaching for the glass in front of him, but Benny pushes it out of reach. “Do you think that’s what Y/N saw too when she was here just now?” Now he does get the cowboy’s attention, common sense finally pushing to the forefront. “She was here?” he questions, dumbfounded. “Yep, and you’ve got somethin’ to fix. Let’s go,” Benny suggests, his large hand flat on his companion’s back calmly pushing him off the chair and onto his feet, both men giving Jamie a short nod before they leave the party.

The fresh air slaps Dean in the face when he exits the tent, sobering him up enough to realize how bad he screwed up. He knew it was a horrible idea to do the one thing his dad always did when the pain got too much to bear; hit the alcohol and drown his sorrow. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? No matter how hard he fights, no matter how different he aspires to be, he will always be just like his father. The same ego-centric, selfish and spineless dick that breaks everything he touches.

When the two men stop in the middle of the square, Benny looks around, trying to find the girls. He doesn’t spot them sitting at any of the outside tables, nor by the restrooms. “It don’t matter, I already fucked it up anyway,” Dean mutters when his friend glances between the market shops. The farrier pauses his search and gazes at him superciliously through half-lidded eyes. “No disrespect, Chief, but what the hell is wrong with you?” “You really want me to get started on that list? Because if so, we’re gonna be here for a while,” the wrangler returns snarky, avoiding his friend’s blue eyes, taking a few steps away with his hands on his hips. “John showing up here is not y—” “Don’t!” Dean interrupts with venom in his voice, spinning around and pointing a firm finger at Benny. “Don’t you dare bring up my father.”

He’s trembling, the anger that ran in John’s blood for years now raging through his veins. Fire sets alight his insides, flames dancing in his pupils that glare at his comrade warningly. The Southerner takes a tentative step towards him, realizing he needs to get through to Dean, but has to handle the subject as carefully as possible. “You are not him. I know this,” he speaks slow. “I know you love Y/N, too.”

But Dean scoffs and shakes his head, not just denying that he does, but refusing to allow himself that kind of fulfillment. He was stupid to even think that he ever had a chance with her. It was just a matter of time before it all would come crashing down on him, ruining everything that he never deserved in the first place. He can’t love her, because if he does, she will fall victim to him, just like he did to his dad.

“Listen, brother. You’re not seein’ straight right now, but you can still make this right,” Benny continues. “You care too much about her to just throw in the towel. Remember when she first came to the ranch? You were smitten the second she walked through those doors. You called dibs on her for a reason.”

The cowboy’s shoulders rise as he inhales deeply and fall again when he blows out a breath. Of course he remembers. He remembers the first time he laid eyes on her over his poker cards, how she responded to him from across the saloon. He remembers how she gave him a run for his money when he came on too strong. He remembers how he panicked when she didn’t seem interested and the idea of her being with someone else had him strike an agreement with his best mate. He remembers the rides, their first kiss, the moment i-- “You called dibs on me?”

Stunned by the unexpected voice, both men turn to where it came from. Benny gulps thickly when he notices Y/N stepping from under the awning of one of the food trucks, Jo in her shadow. Even in the dim glow from the overhanging strings of lightbulbs, he can see her eyes shimmer with despair. “Y/N, it ain’t as bad as it s--” But the cowgirl cuts him off immediately, shooting Benny a glare. “You can stop with the Southern smooth talk. I need to talk to Dean alone.”

After exchanging looks over the course of several uncomfortable seconds, both Benny and Jo step aside, sauntering away from the couple. Once their friends have disappeared behind one of the trailers, Y/N returns her focus to her boyfriend again, her judgemental stare boring into his soul. “I asked you a question,” she repeats, managing to prevent her voice from trembling. “Did you make some kind of pact with your buddies?”

Dean doesn’t answer, but he sets his jaw, the muscles flexing under his stubble. He lifts his eyes from the ground for a moment, glancing over before he averts them again. The woman standing a few feet away from him chuckles cynically; she knows enough.

“So what, women are like cattle to you? This is a funny bet?” The cowboy frustratingly shakes his head once. “You know it’s not.” “Do I?!” Y/N returns, her tone sharper and higher than anticipated. “Because if this isn’t just a game, then why did you shove me aside for some blonde broad--” “For fuck’s sake, we were just having a drink! We had this argument already!” Dean snaps, throwing his arms to the side.

Taken aback by the hostility, Y/N stares at him. She has seen this anger before, but just a glimpse of it. It was when Ash lost his job and blamed them, in particular Dean, who took the acquisitions hard. That evening it was mostly guilt that triggered the cowboy to lash out to her and the second he realized he had upset her, he apologized. But now an apology doesn’t even seem to cross his mind that is clouded by darkness far greater. At this point, she’s not sure if she would be able to accept it anyway.

“Well, it didn’t make much of a difference, now did it?” she returns after using the dreadful silence to recover. “Apparently not,” Dean scoffs, shifting his unfocused gaze aside. Mulling over the chain of events that have led to this moment, he swallows with difficulty, indignation taking off the heat for a bit, stopping it from boiling over. The calm gives Y/N enough courage to step closer. “Dean, I know today was a whirlwind. I know - I’m aware that what happened in the stables earlier has sent you into a tailspin,” she sympathizes, careful not to mention his father after witnessing his outburst with Benny when he did, “but this isn’t you.”

The disheartened guy before her huffs again, sardonic and hopeless. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Because it’s exactly who he is. This is who he was always destined to be. It’s how he was raised, it’s in his DNA. For two months he allowed himself to hope that maybe he could change, that maybe he could be better than the poor excuse of a man his father was. Y/N gave him that pipe dream, and even though it’s unreasonable to be upset with her for seeing the good in him, it’s amongst one of the many frustrations he’s experiencing.

“It is. This -” Dean points at himself, his upper lip twitching with disgust. “- this is who I am.” She shakes her head, not ready to give up. “It’s not. You are kind, loving, your heart is--” “You don’t know me!” He exclaims, running a hand through his hair and trapping the light-brown locks between his fingers before he gestures wildly. “You think you do, but you don’t have a fucking clue! I haven’t told you anything about my life--” “Then talk to me!” Y/N yells back as he turns away from her. “I CAN’T!!”

Dean is facing her again, vexation flaring in his emerald green eyes. His heart beats so vigorously that it has his entire body pulsating. He takes her in, the beautiful young woman who he fell for, and he can see that her hope is fading. It pains him to hurt her, but he’s left with no choice. Being angry with him will make things easier, though. It will help her move on. If she is going to feel sorry for him, the pity would only prompt the caring girl to hold on and try to piece the shattered shards back together, and he can’t let that happen, simply because it’s useless. He refuses to take her down with him, to burden her with the same demons that he has to live with. He can’t do that to her, not to the one he loves. She’s way too good for him, so pure, so selfless and gentle. She’s everything he shouldn’t have, everything he isn’t worthy of. It’s better this way, it’s better to end it now.

“I can’t. Who you think I am, it’s not me. I’ve been lying to you, pretending. I can’t be the person you need me to be,” he claims, calmer now that he knows what he has to do.

Y/N’s breathing picks up slightly, the air leaving her with a shudder each time. His words seem so definite already, but he can’t possibly believe that they are not right for each other, can he? All those moments they shared, all the affection he offered; that was real. That was him. Why can’t he see he’s exactly the man she needs? “And what person is that?” she questions, hoping that whatever argument he fires back, she can turn around.

Dean is quiet for a few seconds, thinking about a fitting answer. The profound fondness he feels for her begins to resurface and it’s tearing him apart. She needs to understand that the fairytale they have been living is a facade he can’t continue to maintain. Dreams never last forever, this is where they wake up. “You need a guy who is honest, who you can trust. Look at us; I can’t even bring myself to tell you about my family, my past, or anything for that matter,” he reminds her. “I knew what I was in for, Dean. I don’t expect you to spill every dark secret you think you have. You don’t have to spell out everything to be with me. We can work it out!” she argues desperately. But the cowboy shakes his head, feeling the sorrow brim in his eyes. He wants her to be right so bad, but he knows he can’t live a lie. “You don’t get it, okay? I’m a fucking mess. I did things that are unforgivable. I don’t have my shit together, but you do,” he says, a sad smile barely pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You know exactly where you wanna go in life, what you want to achieve.” She steps closer, praying that if he lets her, she can eventually bridge the space between them. “We can do that together,” she pleads with all the hope she has left. “We can’t,” he returns, having gathered every bit of strength to look at her before he pronounces the words who he knows are the truth. “This isn’t gonna work.”

The tears that have gathered become too much even for a dam to withhold roll down her cheeks now. An already unbearable ache gets worse, her heart physically hurting and taking up so much space that Y/N feels like she can’t breathe. He can’t be doing this. He can’t pull the plug, not after all the epic moments they shared. Every warm look, every gentle touch, every loving kiss; every blissful memory. How can he possibly let go of that? Refusal has her reach out to him, one last attempt to repair what is already broken. “Dean, stop… Why are you hurting me like this?” she cries.

The cowboy drops his gaze while fighting the tears and the grief for what he’s losing. He wants to reach out too, take her hand in his, but he can’t cave now, he can’t be selfish. He has to do this for her. “Because if I don’t, if I allow this to go any further, it’s gonna hurt a lot more.” Dean fixates on anything but Y/N, no longer able to endure the sight of her falling apart in front of him. It’s dreadfully quiet as if the world stopped turning, and in a way, for the two individuals in the middle of the square, it just did. “So - so what? This is it?” she stammers, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re breaking up with me?” Biting his lip now, he focuses on what this decision will offer the woman at arm’s reach. An uncomplicated life in which she can pursue her dreams without having to worry about someone dragging her down. She can be free to do whatever she wishes and that’s all he can ask for. But in order to provide her with that opportunity, he has to let her go. “Yeah. We’re over.”

Like a bullet fired from a gun, the defining words rip through her chest and pierce her heart. The silence after the shot is deafening, canceling out the sounds of their surroundings. The streaming pathways of desolation gather at the end of her chin and drip down on the dry soil, enough to darken the dust. Her eyes are glued on him, though, but he doesn’t return her gaze. The conclusion of their relationship sinks in with every passing second, leaving her soul in ruins. It’s over. They are over. And there is nothing she can do to change the course of history.

Unable to be in his presence, she forces her feet to move, turning away from the man she is no longer with. Dean can’t watch her leave, fixed on the dark earth where her tears fell just moments ago. From his peripheral vision, he notices Jo rushing by to go after her friend. Good, he thinks to himself, she’ll have someone to lean on.

After standing there for what feels like an hour, he takes a few hesitant steps towards one of the trailers, placing both hands flat on the metal, searching for something to ground him while he closes his eyes and lets his head hang. He can’t find it, though, not in the cold steel, not in his reasoning behind this brutal decision. The resentment builds again, and Dean pulls his right hand back, balls his fist, and almost puts a dent into the barrier before him. The action only confirms what he deep down knew to be true all along. All that rage, the self-hatred; he can’t bottle it up forever, so it’s for the best that Y/N will no longer be there to witness it.

Dean bends his elbows, his forearms now pressed against the iron and his forehead resting between his clenching fists, as he struggles to pull in a shaky breath. He feels like he’s imploding, the outer frame of his structure caving in on itself. His mouth falls open, his bottom lip trembling, then he allows the tears to cascade down his face.

He can sense Benny by his side, but Dean is too wrapped up in his own destruction to really acknowledge him. The comforting hand on his shoulder is a touch he barely registers, his body is already rebuilding its emotional walls, caging away his ability to feel and casting it in a permanent shadow. That’s where it will remain, encapsulated in darkness, cut out from the light that his girl had to give. Benny stays by his side, though, letting him know that he is there for his friend, as much as Jo is there for hers.

“Sis, wait,” the ranch owner’s daughter tries desperately, following the woman who just had her heart broken into the stables. Her request remains unanswered, Y/N only stopping when she has reached Meadow’s box, her hands shaking while she tries to unlock the door. When she’s unable to, Jo quickly steps in and opens the gate, holding it for her companion. The bay horse has lifted her head, alerted by the commotion in the alley, but clearly recognizes the person stepping inside. She seems confused by her owner’s frail state of mind, though, pricked ears and concerned eyes taking in the situation.

The cowgirl folds an arm around Meadow’s neck while she buries her face in the Quarter’s brown coat, then she breaks. She breaks into a million segments, lost in the mixture of wood shavings and straw underneath their feet. The air is too thin to breathe and sobs wreck her entire form.

Never in her life has she felt so unwanted, purposeless, and vulnerable as she’s feeling now. Dean let her in and she trusted him to handle her with grace, yet the second she was comfortable with this new way of being, he pushed her out. She thought she knew the man she felt such a strong connection with. Yes, she realized very early on that it was going to be difficult to get through to him. The soldier with thick armor had stacked the barricades high, but that never intimidated her. After all, she had climbed mountains before.

She gave Dean her all, but in the end, it turns out it was useless. Y/N isn’t even sure what’s real and what’s not, if the cowboy has been wearing a mask all along, or just now turned into someone that he isn’t. It doesn’t matter, though. He has made himself perfectly clear; she is not the girl he wants to be with.

The only one stopping her from collapsing is Meadow, who holds still like a statue, aware that if she moves, her owner will fall to the ground and might never be able to get up again. The horse senses exactly how to handle Y/N, the usually so spirited mare now timid and calm, picking up on the despairing energy.

Jo, who had silently slipped into the tack box to get a bottle of water and some tissues, comes back into the stable, tearing up at the sight of the two who have such a strong bond. The thousand-pound animal has curved her neck around her human, resting her large head on the cowgirl’s shoulder. As if trying to comfort her, Meadow twitches her lips, gently rubbing them against her owner’s back, her way of showing affection. People can be cruel sometimes, to others, to horses. Jo has witnessed it, and she knows Dean has too, which has ultimately led to his dreadful decision to cut Y/N loose, and by doing so he has hurt her in terrible ways himself. But at least the girl has her horse.

Meadow, who is oblivious to the reason behind her owner’s sorrow, offers solace nonetheless. Quietly, she waits until the cries die down and the tears begin to dry, and even then she stays close to her person, having a better sense of direction than most humans do. Y/N’s four-legged friend is honest, treats her with kindness, and loves her unconditionally. It’s a special connection no man can ever steal away, yet many can learn from. This incredible being is her soul horse, a term Dean has taught her, the one who she thought was going to be her partner in life until he decided otherwise. He is right, though; it is over between them. She has lost Dean’s heart, but at the end of the day, no matter what happens, she will always have Meadow.

That’s that then. They are over...

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-five here

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autisticandroids · 3 years

Note

tw: emotional incest.

sorry this is coming out of nowhere but I've been thinking a lot about one of your posts where you mention emotional incest, and I can't really talk about it with anyone else trustworthy so here I am, but feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable or just don't feel like talking about this. I've been reading up on it (because of my own personal experiences) and like. thinking about sam and dean in this context gives me such a horrible pain in my chest. sam really just gave up in the later seasons, dean's need for control defeated him completely, and dean was taken over by his own traumatic childhood and life. they didn't let them grow. dean had to deal with the enmeshment since he was practically a baby and he was not allowed to grow out of that pattern, to learn something better. sam couldn't escape either, even though he tried, and tried and tried, the guilt was stronger. but they really painted their trauma as good and noble, they called the ending bittersweet when it was a whole ass tragedy like if they were gonna do that why not just call it what it is. i now realize the ending hurt me so much because I too grew up in this situation (and still am) and I'm afraid I will never be able to fix it, to fix myself, and I know it should've been obvious to me but it's very hard to think about this. anyways I'm thinking about sam and dean and cas and jack, and how this kind of thing repeats itself in families if left unattended, and how I wish they would've done something to address the trauma in order to let sam have his agency and independence back and let dean learn to form better and healthier family dynamics with love and understanding, next to Cas and Jack.

yeah. yeah yeah yeah. they did paint that trauma as good and noble. the winchesters never escaped anything and then the show was like “and that’s good! that’s Noble Suffering and you should aspire to it!”

sucks.

anyway. <3. you will escape, eventually. promise.

#spn #asks #incest tw #Anonymous

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

The Last Toll

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3865

Part One; Part Two

Summary: Trying to protect the boys from having to witness your death, you leave the bunker to die alone. Dean and Sam desperately try to find you before time runs out.

Notes: Here it is. The final part in this trilogy of twists and lots of angst. I am super proud of how this series turned out and I hope you guys enjoyed the ride. As always, let me know what you think! (But hey, keep an eye out in the future for possible continuations)

Warnings: Death, gore, sacrifice, lots of angst and tears

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

Monday 6:00 A.M.

You had exactly 18 hours left on Earth. 18 hours until a big invisible dog carries you in its mouth down to the eternal Big House. After arguing with Dean last night, it was finally hitting you. You were going to hell. An endless circle of torment that you had no escape from. Beside you, Dean turned over, still fast asleep. You smiled to yourself. You were going for him.

Carefully lifting the blanket, you silently got out of the bed. You grabbed some clothes and stuffed them into your bag. It would be easier to change in the car. You couldn’t risk waking anyone up.

You snuck out into the kitchen, quickly ducking behind the wall when you saw a trench coat laid over one of the chairs, it’s owner flipping through a book. Why can’t angels take naps? You tiptoed towards the entrance, making as little noise as possible.

“You won’t get far.” Cas scolded, not even looking up from his cookbook. You sighed heavily. Busted.

“I can’t stay.” You stepped into the kitchen, putting your bag on the table. “I’ve put them through enough. I have to do this alone.”

“You know what Dean would say?” Cas inquired. You hated when he tried to guilt trip you. “He would say,” the angel lowered his voice to impersonate your boyfriend, “‘You’re one of us. And none of us goes down alone.’ Don’t you want to be with the people who love you? With the man you love so much you sold your soul?” It was odd to hear him speak so emotionally. You could feel tears welling, but you forced them back. If you cried one more time, you’d scream.

“I got to see him one last time. I got to see those eyes bright with life again. I got to kiss him again.” He looked ready to rebuttal so you stopped him. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, Cas. I can’t make Sam watch that again. And Dean…” You sighed, “The only thing that would come from them being there when the bitch comes is more trauma for them to carry around.” You put a hand on his shoulder, urging him to understand. “Let their last memory of me be a good one.” Cas was silent for a moment.

“Alright.” You exhaled a breath of relief. You knew he would understand. Cas stood and grabbed his trench coat. “But I’m driving.” Your relief was replaced with frustration.

“Cas, no-”

“Spare the Winchesters if that’s really what you want. There may not be a way out of this, but you will not go alone.” He was using his angel voice and there was no fighting him on this one. With a huff, you conceded.

“Fine, but I am picking the music.”

9:34 A.M.

You’d kept your phone on silent, ignoring all of the calls you had anticipated. If you heard his voice, you would make Cas turn the car around. You did, however, try and read the avalanche of text messages you were receiving from both brothers.

Don’t do this.

You don’t have to face this on your own.

Please baby, answer the phone.

One of Sam’s messages in particular sent a pang of guilt through your heart.

Dean’s going nuts over here. We both are. Please just come home. If only to say goodbye.

“Regretting your decision?” Cas wondered gruffly. You shot him a look and turned on the radio. Cas changed the channel quickly as ‘Highway to Hell’ played, muttering that it was inappropriate given the circumstances. Instead, he found a station playing Night Ranger’s ‘Sister Christian’. You felt that ache in your chest come back.

“Now what?” Cas read your expression.

“Nothing, it’s just this song.” You had to laugh at how sentimental you were being. “Dean played it all the time when we first became a couple. He liked to joke that he was the ‘Mr. Right’ I’d been so desperately looking for.” The memory made you smile and you imagined being in the impala with Dean singing from the driver’s side.

“Motoring!” He would belt. “What’s your price for flight? You’ve got him in your sight. And driving through the night.” You would both sing the guitar part and laugh.

“Y/N… Y/N.” Cas broke you out of the memory, seeing the sadness in your eyes. You hadn’t even realized that he had stopped the car. “I figured you would want some coffee.” You looked out the window and saw the gas station he had parked in front of.

“You’re a saint, Cas,” You exclaimed, the grumbling in your stomach finally getting your attention. The angle looked very confused.

“Y/N, I can’t be a saint. I’m an angel.”

“It’s just an expression.” You laughed, opening the car door. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Cas knew that if you were anything like your boyfriend, you’d pursue the aisle for some pre-packaged junk food for a while before checking out. Which gave him about ten minutes to return a very angry call.

“Where are you? Is she with you? What the hell Cas?” Dean yelled into the receiver. Sam sat at the table, still trying to find you, but you must have turned the tracker on your phone off.

“She’s okay, Dean.”

“Bring her back. Now.”

“I can’t. She’ll run if she thinks I’m taking her to you.” Cas explained, keeping an eye on you as you moved through the candies. “We’re stopped at a gas station in Topeka.”

“Where are you headed?”

“She won’t say.” Cas sighed. “She just tells me what turns to make and what roads to follow. Although, she did mention something about ‘seeing the old place again’, whatever that means.” Cas watched you pay for your items and head for the exit. “I’ve got to go.”

“Cas, wait!” Dean said, but the line was already dead. “Damn it!” He tossed the phone across the table. Sam caught it before it could slide off.

“He wouldn’t tell you?”

“He doesn’t know!” The older Winchester exclaimed in frustration. “He said Y/N is just telling him as they go. The only clue she’s given him is ‘seeing the old place again.’”

“Did he say where they were stopped at least?”

“Some gas station in Topeka, so they could be heading anywhere.” Dean paced back and forth. He should have known you would pull something like this. You thought you were protecting him by facing this alone. Hell, you’d been doing it since you were a kid. Dean stopped suddenly.

“What is it?” Sam asked and his brother grabbed the keys to his car.

“I know where she’s going.”

2:14 P.M.

You hadn’t seen the house in about twenty years. Then, it was a family home- bikes left on the lawn, your mother’s tulips overtaking the garden, your terrible chalk drawings covering the driveway. Now, the wood was rotting and a tall chain link fence surrounded the premises.

“What are we doing here?” Cas wondered, turning off the truck as you hopped out. The bottle of anger liquid practically glowed in the afternoon sun. You took a swig.

“This, my friend, is where I grew up.” You surveyed the house and nodded. “And it’s where I want to die.” You tucked the bottle in your bag and climbed the fence, landing on the other side with a dramatic flare. Cas let out an exasperated sigh.

“What happened here?” He asked, reading all of the ‘Condemned Building’, ‘Do Not Enter’ signs. He followed you over the fence, clumsily tumbling onto the other side.

“When I was fifteen, my brother came home from college for the weekend. Only, it wasn’t my brother.” The old wounds didn’t hurt as much anymore, but being here again certainly made them sting a little. “It was a shifter. Now, my parents were hunters before they had us, so they figured out something was wrong…just not fast enough.” It all felt so far away now. “After he killed them, he came after me. Somehow, I got the upper hand and sent a silver kitchen knife through his heart. That’s how I started hunting.” Cas put a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You just shrugged sadly.

“It was a long time ago.” You were able to pick the lock on the front door, the smell of mold and dirt filling your nostrils. Home sweet home.

Somehow, the kitchen table was still standing and the sliding glass door leading to the back porch was intact. Your father always used to joke that it was bulletproof. The last time you were in this room, you stabbed a creature that looked like your big brother. And that was shockingly the least complicated your life had been in twenty years.

“Make yourself at home Cas. I’ve got about,” You looked down at your watch, “nine hours and forty minutes until I become a chew toy and I’m going to spend it reminiscing and getting very, very drunk.” Cas gave you a look of disdain. “Hey, I didn’t ask you to be here.”

“You are handling your impending damnation remarkably well.” He sat down in a creaky chair as you started to empty out your bag.

“I’m not going to spend my last few hours cowering in the corner, Cas.” You opened the small tin box that you had brought. “I can’t fight what’s going to happen to me. The most I can do is stay here, away from Sam and Dean, and wait.” You repeated it over and over in your head as if you could convince yourself. Every bone in your body wanted to fight. It’s just who you were. You survived. But now, you were staring down the gaping mouth of hell for the man who taught you to live.

4:36 P.M.

You may have had a three hour head start to St. Louis, but Cas couldn’t drive like Dean could. Both brothers continued their attempts to call you but it was still to now avail. It didn’t matter. They knew where to find you.

The exact address of your childhood home was not hard to find. Your parent’s deaths were well publicized so Sam just followed the trail of articles. Sure enough, Cas’ truck was parked in front of the condemned building.

“Why would she pick this place?” Sam asked, taking in the sad sight.

“This is where it all started for her.” Dean answered somberly. “It’s where she wants it to end.”

Inside, a half empty bottle of Jack sat beside the pile of photographs you had been looking through. You told Cas dozens of stories, some through laughter, some tears, and some both. With music playing from your phone, you didn’t hear the new set of footprints until the Winchesters were standing in front of you. You jumped up from the table, the alcohol in your system making you dizzy.

“You told them!” You cast an accusing glare at the angel beside you.

“This isn’t what you want.” He replied in a quiet voice. You turned your panicked face back to the brothers. Sam’s expression held a sad understanding, but you couldn’t read Dean’s. He stepped towards you.

“You have to leave.” You ordered, backing away as he got closer. “I don’t want you here for this. Get back in the impala and leave.” You backed into the corner and Dean towered over you. “Please, Dean.” His eyes searched yours and knew. He pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

You didn’t fight him. You let him hold onto you as your body started to shake. It was another one of your selfish reasons for leaving. If he wasn’t here, if you couldn’t look at his face, you could pretend that you weren’t scared. Now he was here and all of that tough-girl bullcrap was gone.

“I’m right here baby.” He kissed your forehead, taking all of your stress and putting it on his shoulders. You would carry this together.

“Why did you leave?” Sam asked gently. You turned, Dean keeping his arms around you from behind.

“Because you shouldn’t have to see this, Sam. You watched it happen to your brother, I couldn’t make you watch it again. Neither of you should be put through this.” Dean lightly kissed your shoulder.

“You can’t do this alone.” He whispered.

“I had Cas.” You smirked. The three of you laughed, Cas even cracking a smile.

“Why don’t I go to a restaurant with quick service and get food?” Cas suggested.

“Fast food. It’s called fast food.” Dean snickered into your shoulder. You elbowed him.

“That would be great.”

The sound of a clock chiming startled all of you, Dean instinctively pushing you behind him. Sam sighed.

“It’s okay, It’s only five.” You were all so on edge that it felt later. The clock echoed still, connecting a memory in your mind.

“No way.” You broke away from Dean and found the living room. You must not have heard it earlier because of the music. Sure enough, the gigantic Grandfather clock was still ticking. “I can’t believe it still works.” You mused, running your fingers over the dust covered glass. “My dad loved this thing. He never let us play around it because he was scared that my brother and I would break it.” By some cruel irony, it lasted longer than he did.

10:29 P.M.

With stomachs full of fries and mediocre burgers, you had climbed up onto the roof- which was surprisingly still sturdy- to look at the stars. Five hours passed in a blink and you were all getting anxious. Sam and Cas were inside, giving you and Dean time alone.

“I want you to have this.” You began, talking over the music playing from your phone. You handed him the small tin that you kept all your pictures in. Dean raised a brow and you playfully rolled your eyes. “And no, there’s no playboy material in there so you can wipe that smirk off your face.” Dean chuckled and draped around your shoulders to pull you closer.

He opened the box and spilled the contents into his lap. The first image made him laugh. It was of you and Sam, fast asleep on a motel sofa, your head on his shoulder and half of his body dangling over the arm of the couch. Someone- aka Dean- had drawn mustaches on your faces.

“I forgot about this.” Dean put each photo back in the box as he looked at them. Some were from when you were a kid, but most were from your time with them. He paused at one in particular. It was of you hugging him from behind as he worked under the hood of the impala, both of you laughing at something he had said. You were at Bobby’s. Ellen had taken it.

“Damn,” Dean muttered, putting the picture on top of the others. You knew what he was thinking. He’d lost so many people. His parents, Bobby, Ellen and Jo, and countless others. Now he would have to add you to the list.

“When it comes, I’ll need to borrow your gun.” You said suddenly. He gave you a strange look, taking a second to understand. “I figured it would be a better way to go than becoming dog food.” Dean winced. This was not a subject he wanted to address. A part of him still had hope.

“Maybe there’s still a way.”

“Dean,” You sighed, “there would need to be an act of God or the gates of hell closing.” You had a little less than an hour now. Dean’s eyes lit up and he shifted to face you.

“That’s it. That’s how we can fight this.”

“Dean, what are you talking about?”

“When Sam was completing the trails, he was able to kill a hellhound with an angel blade. We can kill it.” His voice had a new sense of determination.

“Dean, there would just be more.” You scoffed. He couldn’t be serious.

“So we kill them!” He said it as if it was simple. “It’ll at least buy us more time to undo the deal.”

“Dean…” You looked at him like he was crazy, but the new found hope on his face made it impossible to rebuke.

“It’ll work.” He said, more to himself than to you. “It has to work.” You both fell silent, listening to the music. You almost laughed. Led Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’. You sang along in your head.

“And it’s whispered that soon, if we call the tune then the piper will lead us to reason. And a new day will dawn for those who stand long and the forests will echo with laughter.”

Surely, somebody up there was laughing. Whoever God was, he sure had a twisted sense of humor.

11:57 P.M.

“We need to get inside.” Dean announced, grabbing the tin and putting it in his jacket pocket. “It’ll be easier to corner the bitch so we can kill it.”

You both climbed down into the back yard. Sam and Cas were waiting, already filled in on the plan. Neither were overly confident, but if there was a chance, they were willing to try.

“You ready?” Sam asked. You gulped and gave the three of them a solemn nod. Each man filed inside, weapons at the ready. As soon as Dean was in, you slid the glass door shut, jamming a metal bar in between the door and the wall.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled, trying to force it open. “Y/N, what are you doing?” The door wouldn’t budge. “Let me out!”

You put your hand against the glass, palm splayed out where Dean’s fist pounded. You gave him a small, sad smile.

“It’s okay.” You mouthed. His hand flattened against yours. “It’s going to be okay.” You exchanged a glance with Sam and he gave you a wordless promise. He would make sure his brother would get through this. You locked your eyes with Dean’s. You never got tired of those emerald irises. Knowing that you put the life back in those perfect green eyes would give you enough courage to face what came next.

You closed your eyes, feeling a lone tear slide down your cheek.

12:00 A.M.

This time, the clock’s chiming didn’t make you jump. The howl did. Both Sam and Dean were desperately trying to get the door open, but Cas knew that this was what you wanted. He turned away.

“Damn it, Y/N! Open the door!” Dean shouted again, hitting the glass as hard as he could. You spoke just loud enough for them to hear you.

“I love you.” You opened your eyes only to find the heartbreak in his. “I love all of you.” You cried out as a set of claws dug deeply into your calf, yanking you backwards onto the concrete.

“No!” Dean screamed. He pulled so hard that the handle of the door snapped off. Sam was frozen now, neither brother able to tear their eyes away.

You tried to hold back your screams, but it was useless. The hellhound flipped you onto your back, claws ripping through your shoulder like paper. Your shrieks were loud enough to fill the kitchen.

“Baby, please.” Dean cried, his efforts in trying to break the glass merely giving him bruises. He was forced to watch the invisible beast create claw marks along your arms and chest. He felt every tear as if it were happening to him all over again. A pool of blood started to pour out beneath you.

Your most agonizing scream came when you felt the dog’s jaws clamp around your side. You looked up at the men above you. Dean’s face was stained with tears, as was his brother’s. They both looked so anguished, so shattered. So you remembered last night. You remembered their laughing faces and off-key singing. You remembered Sam’s comforting embrace and his knowing smile. You remembered the taste of Dean’s lips and the feeling of his body tangled with yours. You remembered their eyes in the sunset, sparkling and alive. And you smiled. Your boys.

“Y/N! No!” Dean screamed in horror as a chunk of your flesh was violently torn away. You stopped moving. “Y/N!” The last toll of the clock echoed throughout the entire house and the old Grandfather clock stopped ticking.

Sam pushed his brother to the side and fired his gun at the glass until it shattered. Dean bolted through, not caring if he got cut. The hound was gone, leaving only carnage in its wake. He fell to his knees.

“Y/N?” His voice was quiet now, hoarse from screaming. Your eyes stared blankly up at the stars, blood splattered across your face. He cradled your head in his hand. “Don’t do this to be, baby. Don’t do this to me.” He pulled you into his lap. “Come on sweetheart, don’t make me lose you too. Please.”

Sam’s chest tightened, watching his brother break down. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Dean cry this hard. Cas had vanished, so it was just the two of them now. After a moment, Sam let out a heavy sigh.

“Why don’t you head out the car? I’ll clean up.”

“No.” Dean growled, head jerking up to look at him. “I have to do this.” Dean straightened and he scooped your body up into his arms. Blood rushed down his clothes like rain, seeping through to his skin. It would stain him for the rest of his life. He pressed a kiss to your forehead one last time and gently closed your eyes.

And she’s buying a stairway to Heaven.

Tuesday 8:33 A.M.

The ride back to the bunker was silent. Even when they got back, Sam knew better than to say anything. Dean went to take a shower, shoving the small tin to the back of his drawer. Sam poured himself a drink. He looked out on an empty library and lifted his glass, as if he were toasting you.

Dean turned the water to a scalding temperature, feeling it burn as it rinsed off the sticky crimson liquid that covered his chest and arms. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your smile going blank as the hellhound tore away your skin. And all he could hear was that stupid clock. Before he even realized it, his hand punched the tiled wall over and over again until it cracked, his knuckles splitting open and oozing blood. He didn’t even feel it. He didn’t feel anything.

It was dark, but you could still see the blade hanging above you, glistening menacingly. Spiked restraints pierced your wrists, holding you down on the table.

“Sam? Cas? Anybody!” You cried. There was no hiding the terror in your voice. The saw screeched to life and slowly lowered down towards you. “Help me! Somebody please!” You struggled, only making the spikes dig further into your skin. There was no escaping this. Your screams filled the darkness. “Dean!”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

The Deal Series: @writeroutoftime

#gore warning #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural imagines #winchester takeover #october #jensen ackles #Jared Padalecki #to be continued?

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agusvedder · 4 years

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I DON’T CARE if this doesn’t get any notes. I need to vent.

My name is Agustina, I’m 27 years old. I’m a nonbinary, queer, latinx person, parent of a 4 year old, non-verbal authistic child. I suffer from depression and anxiety.

I’m 9 thousand kilometers away from the woman I love.

I’m not a victim. I am a minority. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

I started watching Supernatural in 2015, you know, being a stay-at-home parent, who dropped her career and her job to live the first years of their child, there wasn’t much I could do in my free time but to watch a show. I caught a few episodes of season 11 on tv and then I decided to start from zero. I always acknowledged how problematic it was in terms of representation, but always saw small threads of light filtering in the message it sent, recognizing how its writers were trying to shed a little light, creating a jenga tower of storylines and new characters, only to be thrown away by poor, useless deaths and the erasure of said characters.

Since my first run on season 1 I related to Dean. I saw myself on him. (I will never be as brave and cool as him tho, never ever, but his personality traits, some of his family issues, his self worth issues, his loneliness, his unaddressed childhood trauma, his growth in a circle of violence, his reticence to address his feelings until he explodes?... Yeah. There are days where my girlfriend makes fun of me saying “Ok Dean”). I kept looking up to Dean in his geekiness, in his way he always put his life on the line to protect the people he loves and put them always first… even in the supernatural side of the storyline, he still was profoundly human and abnegated to the people in his life. Also because I’m deeply in love with Castiel but that’s another subject. Thanks to this show, I’ve found people in my own country who now I recognize as my family beyond SPN, who helped me accept myself the way I am, who are always there for me. My found family, my chosen family. Because family don’t end in blood, because family cares about you, not only for what you can do for them, because that’s what all of us have in common, and why this show resonated as strongly as it did for us. That’s why we found each other and ourselves in the process, in a circle of love, support, non-judgement and willingness to find a family in ourselves when our own blood relatives ignored us, abused us, refused to recognize us. We’ve found love and family. I’ve found the woman with whom I wanna spend the rest of my life with because of this show.

That’s the power of this story. I know my small circle is not the only one who lived this, who continues to live it.

I can talk about this forever, but there’s something I wanna talk about specifically here. When the ending aired.. what I felt was… like a bucket of cold water was thrown over my head. You know when your parents come home, or call you and give you the devastating news that someone you love died? that exact feeling. The adrenaline, the heartbreak, the feeling of loss.

The whole season 15 and 15 years of storyline were completely overturned. The misogyny the writers tried so hard to erase, it was there again, in a faceless woman who was supposed to represent the person a lead chose to spend the rest of his life with, reduced to a lilac dress, a blurry face and a uterus. We never seen acknowledged the existence of Eileen Leahy, Sam Winchester’s romantic interest since season 11, his perfect partner whose disability wasn’t an obstacle for her to be a badass hunter. (BUT COVID!! <- No. Eileen Leahy appeared in two episodes this season without Shoshannah being on set: Last Holiday and Despair. If they wanted to include her, they would have. They didn’t because they don’t give a FUCK). Sam Winchester is an academic, a witch, a leader, a powerful hunter, a kind human being, and the ending that was given to him was living an unfulfilled life, dying at a ridiculous young age, having a son only to replace his dead brother? It was sad. Sammy deserved better. He always did.

My beloved Dean Winchester, who I love so deeply, who taught me a lot about myself, about life, love, family, about *ejem* VICIOUS CIRCLES and the power of breaking free from them, of learning to embrace one’s self, our real tastes, our real identity, to come out of a shadow of being reduced to someone’s caretaker instead of having an identity of our own, to spend life loving family the healthy amount.. well, he was killed in a ridiculous way, on a milk run of a hunt. After being eager and ready to kill himself so many times. After all he’s been through, after saying he’s good with who he is, after considering retirement, after standing up to his dad, saying he already has a family, ready to cut the “I’m Okay” bullshit, address his feelings, his trauma, don’t letting those define him. He deserved better. He always wanted a family, he always wanted to break free from the version of himself he was created to be, “daddy’s blunt little instrument” (For fuck’s sake, he even said it in the same show 10’ before dying, man. If we don’t keep living, the sacrifice the people who died for us did, was for nothing). Are you telling me this man really would refuse his brother to call an ambulance? Refused his brother to get the first aid kit even knowing it was more serious than his brother thought? He was ready to live. He CHOSE life, and at the end his choice was stripped away from him. He clearly was a bisexual man and they never explored it.

Cas. The misfit. The fish outside of the water. Ambiguous gender and sexuality. Finally makes a homosexual declaration of love after all he’s been through. After being brainwashed, used, suicidal, isolated. After telling Sam and Dean he loved them more than once, that they meant everything for him. After confessing he’s been in love with Dean since he pulled him out of hell…. Was erased from the story. Erased, literally. Two emotionless mentions aren’t enough for a 12 year old family member who pulled both brothers out of hell, who died for them more than once, who until 2 seasons ago he didn’t even feel like he belonged there ‘cause he was never told he was loved. No one ever told him “I love you” back. Not Jack, not Sam, not Dean, not Mary. No one. Ever. And still, he died for love. And with his death, he was erased from the finale, being that the first finale Castiel wasn’t in since his appearance on the show. He deserved better.

All roads lead to Rome and you know what we got at the end of that road? a bottomless pit of NOTHING. The building up towards a different end isn’t just in s15. It’s been there for years and years. And if you watch the show, you see it at plain sight.

Sam Winchester hurried to die to reunite with his brother in heaven EVEN WHEN HE SPENT 30 MORE YEARS WITH A WIFE AND A KID he only wanted to die to go back to his brother? it’s insane, it’s ridiculous. That’s not what the show has been about for seasons now. SEASONS. The road was paved towards a healthy brotherly bond, each brother living their future the way they wanted, finally breaking free from the curse John dropped on Dean that Sam’s destiny was in his hands. No no. What was that? Did it ever happen? Was it a fever dream? They really destroyed everything in 38 minutes of the finale?

Stupid.

Representation is important, stories are important. They change lives. You know how it changed mine? After I saw Jonathan Van Ness coming out as non-binary, I started to realize how I never called myself "a woman, a girl" or anything like that, how my "female presenting" aesthetic changes drastically depending on how I feel when I wake up how I always called myself a "person", no gender involved. I realized I was a non-binary person even after becoming a parent. Thanks to Jonathan Van Ness. Thanks to seeing a person like her being unapologetically herself.

Representation matters.

It matters.

It helped my mom understand me when I was 13 and had a girlfriend. It helped my dad educate himself about trans identities. It helped my sister understand about her demisexuality. It helps break circles of ignorance and stereotypes. It helps people process what these characters wanna tell, and realize they're human beings above it all. We suffer, we laugh, we grieve. We love. We exist.

Supernatural missed a chance to be a historical show in terms of representation. And it breaks my heart. I cant believe they decided to erase Dean's sexuality, to erase Castiel after saying loud and proud he's in love with a man, to erase Eileen whose disability only was a disadvantage when they KILLED HER in the most ableistic way in s11, to never show Charlie and her girlfriend again, that they decided to make God bisexual AND a villain, thay they decided to turn the only regular non-binary character of color into the villain too (Billie).

I'm still grieving.

This is why "a stupid show" is so important for me, and for lot of people like me. Cause representation can change lives. Stories can change lives. It certainly changed mine, and I'm not the only one.

Don't let anyone tell you you're just a butthurt fan because you're suffering this ending. Every one of us have a story and this is mine. All of us are valid, our feelings are valid. And we'll get through this eventually

#SPN ending #personal experience #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural #sam winchester #Long post #sorry

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deanvonnegut · 4 years

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So you’re gonna look at me and tell me that Lily Saunders, a woman, who in all respects before the events unfolded was a good person, was almost sent to hell for killing the angels who wrongfully killed her daughter and angel companion (this being without her knowledge that they thought her daughter was a Nephilim, so she just assumed they took part in murdering her daughter and that angel out of cold blood for the majority of time) (not excusing murder but just to get a better perspective, she saw her faults and spared Castiel after recognizing all of this) (also HER DAUGHTER/ANGEL LOVER DUDE WAS FUCKING MURDERED IN FRONT OF HER PEOPLE).

Your gonna look me in the eyes and say that Lily Saunders deserved to go to hell for that, but John Winchester, a man who canonically was an emotionally abusive father, who made decisions that intentionally put both of his sons in harms way FOR THEIR ENTIRE CHILDHOOD AND ADOLESCENCE, who regularly left them alone/separated to fend for themselves, who manipulated them into believing they had no other choice than the life, that they had no other purpose than the life, that their only true role in this world was protecting each other like that (mainly Dean for Sam), who did all of that for the sake of revenge and hunting other things along the way..............saved his son’s life once by making a deal with a demon and that erased it all so that he could go to heaven?

Yes he went to hell for that brief period in the early seasons but that was due to a deal with Azazel, but after he was freed he went to heaven (which, btw, does not make any sense whatsoever as they addressed in S15 with Kevin that a soul who has been touched by Hell cannot go to Heaven, but when has continuity of plot points ever stopped the writers amiright?).

You mean to tell me John Winchester, after all that, just got fast tracked to heaven and is there rn j chillin with his family eating “Winchester surprise”? That Mary and Dean and Sam are pulling a “erasure-of-abuse-trauma-and-chosen-endangerment-and-abandonment Lebanon” up there w/ him? Make it make sense ya’ll!!!

In conclusion, I will forever be fed up with the sympathy arc of John “my dad would never say he was proud of me” Winchester and the demonization of Lily Saunders.

#the way they almost sent Lily and all she had to do was help the Winchesters once to get back on the list for heaven TO SEE HER DAUGHTER jus #t boggles my MIND #it appears I may have a case of Winchester derangement syndrome too well fuck #spn #supernatural #fuck John Winchester hours #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #supernaturaledit #supernatural analysis #supernatural rant #anyways stream deancas wedding 2021 #destiel #bc why the fuck not #castiel #lily saunders #S12 #12x10 #Season 12 Episode 10

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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 1 year

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promised (once i've felt everything)

promised (once i've felt everything) https://ift.tt/YfOmrX1 by alstroemeriatea On a trip to the Bunker, Claire Novak swerves off the interstate one night. A simple investigation concerning plagues in Pontiac, Illinois quickly reveals things are not what they seem. Cas is hiding something, (what is going on with him and Dean?), Jack is keeping a secret, and there’s an impending threat from a mysterious deity called The Empty that might kill her and Cas, both. Claire must decide what family truly means and come to terms with her past that was irrevocably changed. Racing against the clock, she must choose who is worth saving, worth loving, and learn what it really means to lose everything. or for those who know tomorrow isn’t promised, but still woke up today. Words: 99480, Chapters: 10/10, Language: English Series: Part 1 of promisedverse Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F Characters: Claire Novak, Castiel (Supernatural), Kaia Nieves, Dean Winchester, Jack Kline, Gabriel (Supernatural) Relationships: Castiel & Claire Novak, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, Jack Kline & Claire Novak, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Claire Novak & Dean Winchester Additional Tags: truevessel!Claire, (temporary) consensual possession, non-sexual possession, Castiel is Saved from the Empty (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jack and Claire like to meddle with destiel, set sometime s15 (we are actively ignoring the chuck situation altogether), dean and cas' relationship is... complicated, Childhood Trauma, addressing Ameila Novak's abandonment, addressing the Randy situation, boarderline sexual exploitation of minors (non-graphic and skippable), absolutely NO underage sex, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Shower Sex, Dirty Talk, Vaginal Fingering, claire and kaia are dean and cas parallels if you squint, cas wants to be there for claire but doesn't know how, Forgiveness, kaia and dean bonding over being music nerds, not your average case fic, a songfic without the annoying parts of songfic, aka we are not constantly quoting lyrics, Gabriel Being Gabriel (Supernatural), poly gabe/sam/eileen hinted (as a little treat), Birthday Party, Family Dynamics via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/j24EvgB August 15, 2023 at 08:24AM

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester'#Destiel #ao3feed #ao3feed Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Dean Winchester/Castiel #Castiel/Dean Winchester #Dean x Castiel #Castiel x Dean

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dunkindemons · 4 years

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let me rant about sam winchester for a second. ok.

what worries me so much about sam (like s15 current sam and sam in pretty much all recent seasons) is that we don’t ever get to see him having a coping mechanism. like.

we see all that ugly shit with dean. he’s an alcoholic, he takes out his anger through hunting, he sometimes treats his family like shit, he sometimes stays in his rooms for days on end and binge eats and drinks while he marathons bad movies.

it makes sense for him. they’ve both been through so much shit not just throughout the series but before the series, like they had a childhood that would be traumatic to anyone, not even counting the whole series. so when dean is portrayed as an addict who still struggles to show love properly to his family, we get it. we don’t hate him, we all love him more for it.

and we’re supposed to believe sam is this perfect monument of mental health and efficient living? i know he talks about repressing it but come on. i mean season 4 they gave him his demon blood addiction which yeah was the culmination of lots of different factors, but in the end it was just that: an addiction, something he relied on emotionally and mentally.

like, the sam we see in seasons 1-5 is just as fucked up and traumatized as dean, maybe more. he was angry and could be mean, he sometimes drank too much, he fucked up and acccidentally hurt people.

seasons 6-8 showed us a much more... tame version of sam (once he got his soul back.) idk if it’s just me but season 6b sam compared to s5 sam is so meek. sam wasn’t that in the first 5 seasons, if anything he struggled with being an overly aggressive person. and since he didn’t remember hell and barely remembered being soulless, he should be, like, the same fucking guy.

at least in season 7 we get to see him actually addressing and dealing with his trauma, albeit in a kind of contrived way (seeing lucifer.) but even then, any one of us could talk for hours about the missed opportunities in s7. yeah, at the very end he developed insomnia, but for the rest of the season as he was constantly seeing hallucinations, was he just.... fine? it didn’t effect his eating or drinking habits, his relationship with bobby or dean, nothing? just fine? we know he started exercising a lot but even then, that’s such a healthy coping mechanism compared to any one of dean’s many.

season 8 we did get to see him giving in to, like, denial and avoidance of his problems, and towards the end of the series refusing to eat and oversleeping etc. but from season 9 on..... nothing.

nothing. he talks about feeling traumatized by everything in his life but we don’t see it. when dean got possessed by michael, it shook him to his fucking core. he was depressed and suicidal. when sam got possessed by gadreel, it didn’t seem to change him in any way. he was sad, but no different. when lucifer came back in cas’s vessel, we didn’t see him having flashbacks or nightmares or even a very negative reaction to the presence of the being that tortured him for hundeds of years. nothing.

when dean was a demon, when mary came back, when he was confronted with lucifer yet again, when cas died, when eileen died, when dean wanted to kill himself....the most we see is a couple sleepless nights from sam.

i just.... i know it’s too late for any of this to be fixed now, but i wish we’d gotten to see more of sam’s life, of his pain and his process of healing. i feel like we’ve been there with dean every step of the way, while sam stands off the corner being like “i’m fine :)” the only emotion he gets from the writers besides Fine and Helpful is Sad, and occasionally angry.

let sam fuck up! let him make stupid decisions! let him cope badly and heal in nonlinear ways and be a dick sometimes and dwell on his trauma and do all the things you’re not supposed to do.

i just want him to be written as a human, as fucked up as any other human, who’s had a whole lifetime of trauma that he has to figure out how to deal with. that’s all i want.

#ok sorry this is long but i have a lot of Thoughts and Emotions #sam winchester #i dont even consider him my fave character but its THESE kinds of thoughts that make me have recurring dreams about him ahdkgaldjfh

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mittensmorgul · 6 years

Note

Hello Mittens :) Do you think the 300th ep painted John in a more positive light than it should have? I don't really hate John, but I felt like they brushed past a lot of trauma he caused Sam and Dean for the sake of a reunion episode. I know that trauma wasn't forgotten, since it was intentionally brought up right before the 300th ep. I'm just kinda curious why they didn't address that kind of raw trauma we've seen before directly with John

Eh... maybe taken out of context of the rest of the season, or just looking at the scenes with John out of context with the rest of the episode, it could look like they were handwaving the sorts of trauma that we’ve watched Sam and Dean suffer through for the last 14 seasons, but there’s your answer right there.

We have been watching Sam and Dean struggle with the legacy their father left them with for the last 14 seasons. We aren’t watching these few minutes of conversation in a vacuum. We didn’t just jump right from 2.01 to 2.22 to 14.13 with nothing in between.

Sam and Dean have both repeatedly addressed how they were raised, how much it sucked, what their relationship with their father was like (both awful and good, because their lives weren’t 24/7 awful, you know?). They’ve both come to a greater understanding of their father now that they’re adults themselves that have had to face horrors that even John could’ve never conceived of when he was alive (how many apocalypses? being chosen personally by God for this horrific destiny? And even John and Mary having been mere pawns in this longer cosmic game being played with their lives?). I mean, Sam and Dean Know Things About Things.

They met God. And Dean shared his disappointment in the ultimate cosmic father figure, who then advised Dean not to conflate him with his own father. Basically hung a lampshade on that parallel for all of us.

Then there was Mary’s return, her uncovering the truth of all of this, the horror that she hadn’t been able to save her children from the life she never wanted for them, and that John had been the one to drive them through that terrible life. She was disillusioned, guilt-ridden, and horrified at the way her kids were raised. But she also still did miss him, you know?

People can actually feel a complex mix of feelings for each other. And given one final chance, knowing full well it is their one final chance, they can choose-- as Dean said in 14.05-- to lay their baggage down.

We also can’t forget the direct parallel we were given in the previous episode, of Nick having this chance to reconcile with the ghost of his wife, to free her from imprisonment in their old house suffering the death of their child alone, and he failed to do that. He chose Lucifer and himself over her. While in the very next episode, John was sort of presented with a similar circumstance. He immediately and without hesitation chose again to sacrifice himself for Mary. He didn’t even have to think about it. And in turn, he had to accept Sam and Dean’s lives over the last 13 years since he died, and his role in the traumas of their shared past that shaped them and led directly to a lot of their personal suffering as children and adults. But there was also general acknowledgement-- especially from Dean-- that he likes the person he’s become despite all that. And that he wouldn’t change it now.

They chose to lay the baggage of the past down, to not dwell on the past that they can’t change, and chose the future instead.

And from an “outside the story” perspective, they’ve finally laid the character of John to rest. It’s honestly a relief to me, because yes he fucked up their lives. We get it. We’ve been getting that for 14 years now. Let’s try to grow beyond that now. He’s gone, they can’t change the past, but they can acknowledge it and move forward with a healthier mindset about all of it now.

Because the episode wasn’t about JOHN. It was about how far Sam and Dean (and even Mary, now that she’s alive again, and even CAS in his role in the story brought to the future from a point in time where he’d never met the Winchesters and fell for humanity) have come since then. And they’re not in the same place they were back in early s2 after John’s death, you know? They’d long since exhausted the desire to yell in his face. I mean, Dean confronted this directly in s3. How long should he be expected to have held on to all those toxic feelings? Because honestly if they’d all started yelling it would’ve just been... the grumpy toddler poop flinging hour, and I really expect more of all of them after all these years, you know?

Fandom may not have forgiven John, but thank heck Sam and Dean have at least gained some perspective and learned that he doesn’t still have to dictate their lives to them 13 years after he died, you know? Good for them for actually maturing to this point where they can see a future for themselves not burdened by toxic feelings that they’ve been working through all along the way.

eek, sorry about that... I’ve just got a lot of feelings rooted in the long context of watching Sam and Dean struggle with their childhood memories, with their lives as John’s little soldiers, and everything they’ve learned in the intervening years that have actually contextualized the suffering they endured. They’ve learned it wasn’t all entirely John’s Terrible Parenting, and that even he was manipulated by cosmic nonsense into the situation they were raised in. I mean, yeah, they’re not blind to the specific choices HE made along the way in reaction to the cosmic nonsense, and it’s not like they’re just forgiving him for all the terrible things he did to them, but heck, they are actually seeing the bigger picture here, and John’s part in it all is so far in the past for them as to be easier than they ever imagined it could be to set that bag down and walk forward down the road now, you know?

The one I’m actually concerned for is Mary, because for her it’s only about two and a half years out beyond where she learned John was dead, and she hasn’t had an entire lifetime to deal with this yet like Sam and Dean have. Plus she just got another cosmic screw-over. For John it may have been an easy choice to go back to his life where she’d died decades ago, if it meant that Sam and Dean could someday get their mom back. But for Mary? She had the wound of John’s loss reopened just as it was beginning to heal over and now suddenly she feels that pain fresh again. Because if it weren’t for her, would dean and Sam have chosen to keep their wish, with their alternate lives, if it meant having John back? I mean, no I don’t think they would’ve, but the wish would only allow them to have one or the other, not both, which meant she would lose John all over again.

And heck, isn’t that what Bobby said back in 5.15 when he was losing hope for stopping the apocalypse? When he had to kill Karen again?

DEAN: Hey, look, I don't know squat from shinola about love, but... At least you got to spend five days with her, right?BOBBY: Right. Which makes things about a thousand times worse. She was the love of my life. How many times do I got to kill her?

And I can only assume that’s about how Mary feels right at that moment. Because maybe she didn’t kill John directly, but the cosmic joke makes her the indirect reason for his death in 2.01 (her deal with Azazel come back around), and her very existence was the reason he went back in time to suffer that same fate again. Owwww.

So, no, I don’t think they brushed past this trauma for the sake of a reunion episode. Because I have context of the entire last 14 seasons of the show telling me otherwise.

#spn 14.13 #spn 300 #spn 2.22 #spn 2.01 #spn 5.15 #the ghost of john winchester #has finally been laid to rest #and that is a very very good thing #Anonymous

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beatlejuice64 · 5 years

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Destiel Season 11: A catalog of Supernatural episodes

A catalog of each episode in Supernatural that features scenes related to Destiel. This includes scenes between Dean and Castiel, scenes with other characters that address their relationship with each other, and scenes that allude to Dean’s bisexuality.

Season 11 Summary Analysis

Cas experiences intense PTSD after being brutally beaten by Dean (who was influenced by the Mark of Cain) and after brutally beating up Dean (while under Rowena’s spell). Dean feels more and more drawn to Amara over the course of the season, and it makes him uncomfortable. Cas lets Lucifer possess him in a last-ditch effort to help defeat Amara. Dean tries to save Cas from Lucifer’s possession but fails, and he obsessively searches for him when he’s taken by Amara. Dean is relieved when Castiel resurfaces and tells Cas he’s the best friend he’s ever had.

My interpretation: Dean feels intense guilt for brutally attacking Cas at the end of the previous season, and Cas feels the same guilt after beating up Dean while spellbound. Cas feels useless while he’s paralyzed by PTSD, and he lets Lucifer possess him out of a sense of desperation to be helpful—he sees self-sacrifice as the best option because he can’t face the possibility of hurting Dean again. Dean is incredulous that Cas would let Lucifer posses him willingly—at first, he can’t believe it because he believes so staunchly in Castiel’s goodness. Dean tries hard to save Cas from Lucifer’s possession because he can’t stand seeing the man he cares for behaving like the Devil, and he‘s not willing to risk Castiel’s life for the greater good. Dean’s attraction to Amara freaks him out, partially because he doesn’t want it to interfere with his closeness to Cas. Experiencing Castiel’s absence for an extended period of time helps Dean see how much he values Castiel’s company, and he feels bad for not being there for Cas earlier in the season when he was struggling with trauma. Dean makes sure to tell Cas how he feels after Lucifer is expelled from him. Cas is touched by Dean’s sentiment, knowing how rare it is for Dean to let others get close to him. Cas appreciates Dean calling him a friend and brother, knowing that brotherhood is the highest compliment Dean can give to someone. As Dean is gearing up to sacrifice himself to defeat Amara, Cas is distraught and does not want to leave Dean’s side.

11.01 Out of the Darkness, Into the Fire

When Cas calls Dean, he urgently wants to know whether the Mark of Cain has been removed from Dean.

11.02 Form and Void

Castiel’s angel torturers recognize his consistent prioritization of the Winchesters over heaven: “What are you?” “What? I’m an angel of the Lord.” “That so? ‘Cause near as I can tell, when you have to choose between heaven and the Winchesters, you choose them. Every time.”

Cas refuses to give Sam and Dean up to the angels, even to Hannah.

11.03 The Bad Seed

Dean and Sam try everything they can to find Rowena to help cure the spell she put on Cas.

When Sam insults Castiel’s car, he’s offended. Dean tries to make him feel better: “You think it’s crappy?” “Eye of the beholder.”

After Cas feints, Dean puts him back in his chair and wraps him in a blanket.

Dean is able to help Cas resist his compulsion to kill a someone while under Rowena’s spell.

Cas starts seizing when Rowena lifts the spell, and Dean cradles Castiel’s head in his hands.

Cas apologizes to Dean for beating him up while under the spell: “Dean, I... there aren’t words.” “You’re right. There aren’t words, Cas, ‘cause there’s no need. You were under a spell. It’s fine.”

Dean declines Castiel’s offer to heal him because he feels bad for beating up Cas while under the Mark of Cain’s influence: “Dean, I can fix that.” “No, no no, it’s fine, Cas. Besides, I had it comin’.”

11.04 Baby

Sam asks Dean if he ever wishes he could have something more meaningful than a one night stand: “You don’t ever want something more?” “I’m sorry, have you met us? We’re battin’ a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs.” “You don’t ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever, but something? You know, with a hunter, somebody who understands the life?” “Have you not heard a single word Bob’s been singin’ about?“

11.06 Our Little World

Dean tries to keep Cas out of the hunting scene out of sense of protectiveness: “Oh, what? You think he’s ready? He’s had a pretty rough go of it lately.” “Which one of us hasn’t? Seems insane to leave our one and only angel friend on the bench.”

Dean shows concern for Castiel’s mental health when he finds out he’s been binge-watching tv: “You sound weird, okay? Bad weird. Now, I’ve been down that road before. I’ve heard the siren song from the idiot box, and I’m tellin’ you, whatever you’re lookin’ for, you won’t find it in there. So do me a favor—turn off the tv, go outside and get some air. We’re in the dark here, pal. I need you back in the game, okay?”

Castiel tries to follow Dean’s advice to get out of the bunker, but he can’t bring himself to do it because he’s traumatized by the violence and mind control he’s experienced recently. The two most prominent flashbacks he has are of him beating up Dean while spellbound and Dean beating him up when he had the Mark of Cain.

Sam jokes about Dean’s relationship with Crowley: “Oh, right. I keep forgetting about you and Crowley’s summer of love.”

Metatron recognizes Castiel’s trauma: “You have gone full wuss. Now, I dunno what it was that happened, but whatever it was, you are scarred deep, paralyzed by trauma, by fear. I mean, look at you. You can’t even hit me.”

Crowley brings up the closeness that occurred between him and Dean the previous season: “Do you know how disturbing it was to realize that I couldn’t bring myself to kill you? I’ve had tons of chances over the years, some you don’t even know about, but still, I made my peace with it, embraced my softer side, learned to accept that there was just too much going on between you and I—bromance.”

Dean lies about not killing Amara, and Cas looks skeptical about the truth of his claim: “You said you were close. Dean, how’d she get away?” “I’m sorry, what part of ‘God’s freakin’ sister’ did you not understand? She overpowered me. End of story.”

11.08 Just My Imagination

The flamboyance and expressiveness of the Zanna make Dean very uncomfortable. He has difficulty taking them seriously at first, but he later tells Sully that he and his kind are a “good weird.”

11.09 O Brother Where Art Thou?

Amara kisses Dean, and he kisses her back. Then he pulls back suddenly, weirded out by it. Amara says the two of them are “bonded” and that they belong together, but Dean rejects the idea.

11.10 The Devil in the Details

Cas gets up in Dean‘s grill to diagnose his smiting sickness, but Dean pushes him away when he offers to take Dean’s temperature with his finger.

Amara recognizes Castiel’s lingering trauma: “You think I’m afraid to die?” “I know you are. You reek of fear and self-loathing.”

Lucifer is on the verge of killing Dean, but Cas tackles him before he can. He then lets Lucifer possess him.

Dean checks on Cas after they leave hell to make sure he’s alright.

11.11 Into the Mystic

Dean confides in Cas (Lucifer) about his failure to kill Amara. Casifer asks Dean if he’s drawn to Amara out of attraction, and Dean admits to it: “I know, okay? Whatever it is—attraction, connection—I gotta tell ya, man, it scares me. I don’t know that I can stop it. I don’t know that I can resist it.”

While Lucifer is posing as Cas, he performs a high level of affection toward Dean.

Dean notices that there’s “something off” about Cas, but Sam doesn’t pick up on it.

Dean feels so disturbed about his feelings toward Amara that he can’t sleep.

11.13 Love Hurts

Dean is cursed with being hunted by a qareen who takes the form of its victim’s deepest darkest desire, and for Dean, it takes the form of Amara.

Sam helps Dean understand that he doesn’t have to feel guilty about his attraction: “It was Amara.” “That surprise you?” “That doesn’t surprise you?” “Honestly?” “Honestly. What, you seriously think the sister of God is my deepest, darkest desire?” “She isn’t?” “No! She can’t be.” “Why not?” “Why? Because if she was, then that means I’m...” “Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?” “For starters, yeah.” “Dean, do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason, she picked you, and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you, I’m not.”

11.14 The Vessel

When Lucifer threatens to kill Sam, Cas resists his control, but he won’t eject Lucifer because they need him to bring Dean back from the past.

Dean refuses to believe that Cas would willingly let Lucifer possess him, even though Sam does: “Lucifer may be in control now, but Cas may not come back willingly. I mean, he chose it.” “No. No, not possible.”

11.15 Beyond the Mat

Dean is adamant about saving Cas from Lucifer, even though Sam isn’t convinced that’s what he wants: “...if he wants to be saved.” “He does. Even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

Dean feels extra “burnt” after finding out Lucifer is possessing Cas, so he takes Sam to a wrestling event.

Dean is disturbed by seeing a childhood icon sell his soul, and he doubles down on his determination to save Cas and win the day: “Dean, you know what? He made a bad decision. We’ve been there.” “Yeah. Yeah, you, me, now Cas.” “Dean, we’ll get him back. We will. We just gotta...” “Keep grindin’. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it gets, you gotta keep grindin’.” “Right.” “And that’s how we’re gonna win. And we’re gonna win. We’re gonna save Cas, we’re gonna ice the devil, and we’re gonna shank the darkness. And anyone that gets in our way, well, God help ‘em.”

11.17 Red Meat

When Sam presents a case possibility and Dean doesn’t want to go, Sam recognizes that Dean is obsessing over finding a way to save Cas: “We’ll get him back.” “How?” “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. Meantime, we gotta get outta here, clear our heads. This is a case. Let’s do what we do. Let’s work it.”

11.18 Hell’s Angel

Dean prioritizes Castiel’s safety when planning to take down Amara, but Sam disagrees with him: “Priority is to put the Horn in Lucifer’s hands and set him loose on Amara.” “After we exorcise Lucifer out of Cas and put him into a new vessel.” “What? Really?” “Yes, really. I’m not gonna send Lucifer into battle inside Cas. What if he doesn’t make it?” “Dean, it’s a strong vessel. It’s held Cas for years, and we know what he’s been through. I’m guessing it can hold Lucifer.” “It? It’s not an ‘it’, Sam. It’s Cas.” “And Cas wanted to do this.” “Yeah, well, there’s times I want to get slapped during sex by a girl wearin’ a Zorro mask. That don’t make it a good idea.” “Dean, this is exactly how we screw ourselves. We make the heart choice instead of the smart choice.” “Oh, okay. Thank you, Dr. Phil. Cas is family.” “Yes, and his choice deserves to be respected.” “Even if it kills him?”

Dean is distraught after failing his attempt to talk to Cas without Lucifer hearing. Dean is taken aback when Lucifer mocks him for yelling out for Cas.

When Crowley enters Castiel’s mind to convince him to expel Lucifer, Cas is only willing to consider it after realizing it’s what Dean wants: “Wait, that was Dean I saw a minute ago, wasn’t it?” “Yes.” “And he wants me to expel Lucifer?” “Yes!” “Well, he may have a more objective view of the situation. Maybe I should.”

Even after realizing that they can’t get Lucifer out of Cas, Dean still calls out to him before Amara leaves with Lucifer.

11.19 The Chitters

Sam is concerned about Dean losing sleep during his obsessive search to find Cas: “Dean, we’ll find Cas, okay? He’s stronger than he looks.” “You know, we gambled with Cas, and now Amara has him.” “For a reason, which means he’s still alive.” “I’ve been with Amara. Her beef is with the big guys—with God, with Lucifer. The small fries, even an angel like Cas, doesn’t even register. And if it meant hurting Lucifer, killing Cas would mean nothing to her.”

When Dean finds out the two hunters they’ve met are a romantic couple, he takes an interest: “What’s it like settling down with a hunter?” “Smelly, dirty. Twice the worrying about getting ganked.”

Dean is tempted to ask the couple to help them find Cas and defeat Amara, but he doesn’t have the heart to pull them out of retirement: “Two hunters who make it to the finish line?” “Yeah, you leave that alone.”

11.21 We Happy Few

Dean continues to worry about Cas while the gang is gearing up to take on Amara: “...After that, it’s Lucifer’s turn. Physical attack, one on one.” “What about Cas?” “Oh, don’t worry. Your pet’s safety is my highest concern. Trust me, he’s on board.”

11.22 Alpha and Omega

As soon as Amara leaves, Dean goes to check on Cas, and he’s relieved to see that Cas is himself again.

Dean recognizes Castiel’s distress and tries to make him feel better by telling him how much he values him: “How you doin’? Good? I mean, you know, the whole Lucifer thing...” “I was just SO stupid.” “No, no, no. It wasn’t stupid. You were right. You were right to let Lucifer ride shotgun. Me and Sam wouldn’t have done that.” “Well, it didn’t work.” “No, but it was our best shot, and you stepped up.” “I WAS just trying to help.” “Well, and you DO help, Cas. You know, sometimes me and Sam have got so much goin’ on that we forget about everyone else.” “Well, you do live exciting lives.” “Yeah, that’s one word for it. But you’re always there, ya know? You’re the best friend we’ve ever had.” “You’re our brother, Cas. I want you to know that.” “Thank you.”

Cas is worried about Dean after Rowena puts the soul bomb inside of him: “Dean, are you okay? How do you feel?”

As Dean is getting ready to go sacrifice himself, Cas gives him a giant hug, and Dean hugs him back. Cas also offers to go with him. Dean demonstrates the trust he has in Cas by asking him to look out for Sam. Cas agrees, and Dean thanks him “for everything.”

Dean tries to be macho, but Sam calls bullshit on him: “No chick flick moments, come on.” “Yeah, you love chick flicks.” “Yeah, you’re right. I do. Come here.”

When the gang sees the sun getting brighter, Castiel’s first thought is whether Dean survived.

#destiel #dean x castiel #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #spn #deancas

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shirtlesssammy · 6 years

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14x12: Prophet and Loss

Then:

Drama llama Dean spent an entire afternoon in a workshop surrounded by half naked men, and now he’s gonna bury himself at the bottom of the sea.

Now:

We open with Dean in the ma’lak box at the bottom on the ocean.

It is uncomfortable to watch. I’ve had a lot of thoughts about Dean dreaming about being in the box. It’s a huge call back to 3x16/4x01 and him yelling for Sam and waking from Hell in his own coffin --the coffin Sam insisted he be buried in --the coffin that Cas, the naive angel that lacked the people skills to know not to just reconstitute him and leave him six feet under. This is as bad, if not worse, than Hell for Dean. Dean’s been very low in the past, but to listen to Death and admit that he doesn’t have free will over this situation? Gah.

It is just a dream though, albeit one that was so visceral, he woke to bloody fingernails and scratches on the motel wall. Sam, who’s also awake, tries talking to Dean about his plan.

For This is a Beautiful Shot Science:

Sam insists that there has to be another way. Dean sees no other option than to lock himself away with Michael for eternity. (Sidenote: I just saw this post come across my dash about Swan Song, and I’M DYING.)

Aaaaaand, it wouldn’t be Buckleming without some torture porn! A man has a woman tied up. He’s dumping salt in a vat of water. Oooh, maybe super crazy demon torture? J/K, just a regular girl who doesn’t deserve to die tortured. Sigh. He carves something into her arm and sends her into the water to drown. Positive Note: She’s fully clothed.

Nick’s in the hospital and and as soon as his leg heals, he’ll be spending a lot of time in jail. Nick’s playing the “devil made me do it” card. And he’s also crying silent tears. NOT BUYING WHAT YOU’RE SELLING, EUGENIE.

On the road, the brothers take a moment to further dissect Dean’s plan. Both Sam and Mary hate it. Cas and Jack don’t even know about it. Sam calls Cas --who clearly gets the newsletter Sam sends out to everyone. He knows.

Rowena and Cas have been on the case to extract Michael, but both have come up empty. Cas offers to speak with Dean. Sam doesn’t think that’ll matter.

Torture Man has a new victim! This time it’s a dude that he’s trussed and laid out on a plastic sheet. Torture Man utters warped Bible quotes while he slits the man’s throat. He then carves something into his chest. Oh man, I have a high capacity for violence on TV, but this WAS NOT COOL TO WATCH. Do. Not. Like. After carving up his victim, he hears whispers and says, “I am the Lord.”

On the road, Michael continues to scream and pound on the inside of Dean’s mind. And, guh, Dean pulls himself together and side-eyes Sam to see if he noticed. He didn’t. SAM. I mean, I get it, he’s doing what he can to stop Dean’s plan. And if Dean really wants to convince his brother this is the best idea, why worry if he sees you struggle?

Anyway, Dean jumps into talking about their childhood, and how he “wasn’t always the greatest brother” to Sam. Sam’s baffled as to where this is going. Dean was his constant family when they were kids. Sam recognizes that Dean was not just there for him as a brother, but he raised Sam. Dean continues, apologizing for siding with their dad, for trying to keep the peace. I AM LIVING FOR THIS CONVERSATION. Dean admits that John would send Dean away when he would get mad at Dean. And, like we know this, and I’m still crying? Sometimes I feel like while every episode adds to the story of Sam and Dean, they’re often forgotten or never mentioned again, so did they really happen? If I ended up in an alternate world where I was rich and famous, I’d think back and rehash the fun in that on occasion. In any event, 9x7 did happen, and it happened on multiple occasions. Sam makes it clear to Dean that he let all that go a long time ago, also please stop with the deathbed apologies. Kthxbye.

Nick outsmarts the cop guarding him and escapes from the hospital.

Sam’s found a case! A nice distraction from their Road Trip of Bad Decisions. They head to investigate.

They arrive at the home of the brother of the last victim.

I found this shot SO weird, but didn’t really think about it again until I saw @neven-ebrez post, and was glad someone put some thought into it. :D We’re kind of hit over the head with brother parallels here. Dean gets to hear what it might feel like for Sam when he’s gone. Sam explains that the graffiti carvings were really Enochian.

The brother talks about a friend, Tony Alvarez, who was more into Bible quotes than the average Millenial.

A Story in Three Parts:

I mean, really. REALLY? Cas has no chill. He also has no filter and spills that he knows about Dean’s plan. At first I was like “oh Cas bby, no” but now I’m ok with it. It’s almost more painful to know that Cas knows about Dean’s plan when Dean doesn’t know about Cas’s deal. (And equally painful to think that Cas doesn’t think about his deal because he doesn’t see himself ever being happy.) (Natasha: curls up into an unhappy knot on the floor.)

Anyway, Dean doesn’t want to talk to Cas about his plan and jumps right into why he called. Does Cas recognise the name Tony Alvarez? Cas says that he’s in line to be a prophet. Dean cuts him off, awkwardly tells him it’s good to hear his voice, and hangs up. He instantly chastises Sam for spilling his secret. “Dean, it’s Cas. I had to tell him.” Sam and Cas are the best brothers-in-law. HUGS.

And if Tony is now a killer prophet, is Donatello dead? Dean checks in with Donatello’s doctor. He’s still around (brain dead and all, but not dead dead.)

Dean and Sam break into Tony’s home, which looks perfectly normal EXCEPT for a creepy office covered with Enochian writing and pinned up photos of victims. They realize that the killer is cycling through different biblical deaths.

Cut to the Sphinx Machine Shop, where a deranged Tony has strung up his next victim. He gets ready to burn him (and I’m just cringing in horror please stop). Fortunately, the Winchesters rush in just in time. Sam tackles Tony while Dean puts out the fire and saves the victim. Tony babbles that God was telling him to kill those people. He manages to get a hold of Dean’s gun and kills himself.

U G H

Anyway, just like that, the whole case is over.

They go over the case with Cas, who speculates that Donatello’s not-dead-yet status has somehow triggered a malformed line of prophets. The answer seems clear...they’ve got to kill off Donatello.

Nick breaks into his old house and flashes back to the trauma of his family’s deaths. (Somehow there’s still electrical service? I’m going to chalk that up to an overzealous realtor, perhaps.) The room ices over as the ghost of his dead wife, Sarah, manifests. He addresses her as...“Lucifer?” AWKWARD. Sarah, played by a jarringly different actress, tells Nick that she’s been a ghost...the whole damn time. She saw him get possessed by Lucifer and that is part of the unfinished business that keeps her tethered to Earth. There are some major you’re-cheating-on-me vibes coming from her.

“You wanted him,” she accuses him. “You still do,” she says, surprising absolutely nobody. Nick tells Sarah that he’s gonna go find Lucifer and he leaves her behind to be a super grumpy ghost for all eternity. Thanks, man.

At the Happy Daze nursing home (rly?) a doctor tells the Winchesters that pulling the plug on Donnie is the right choice. Dean practically smirks at Sam like, “SEE? The nice doctor is telling you to let me be tortured for all of eternity.” Cas meets them in the guise of a doctor.

Doctor Sexy: A visual story in three parts:

Sam heads off with the (real) doctor to see what sort of babbled “nonsense” Donnie’s been dealing. (I take a break to pedantically google the difference between brain death and vegetative states.) Dean gives Cas some serious side-eye and sass about checking up on Donatello, but Cas pulls him back. He explains that what he did to Donatello was necessary at the time, but he still regrets it. Dean attempts to commiserate and Cas spits out, “Please don’t compare this with your suicidal plan. Just STOP.”

Dean pleads with Cas to support his decision. “This is goodbye?” Cas demands in response, and then SAM BURSTS IN. God DAMN it, Interrupting!Sam.

Ugh. MAN. Give Dean and Cas five freakin’ minutes to talk through their issues 2k19. (You know I love it AND I hate it, bbys.)

Anyway, the footage of Donatello shows him speaking Enochian. He’s muttering about striking down the first born of Egypt...he’s just spewing out the Word of God. Cas thinks Donatello’s mind is rebuilding itself and stumbling through old prophecies. (Me: passive-aggressively googles vegetative states again.)

They head into Donatello’s room where Cas, bless him, continues to show an utter lack of an appropriately scaled cover persona. He orders the real doctor out of the room with a cursory “Get out.”

While Sam and Dean wait for Cas to try his healing mojo, Dean flinches as he continues to struggle with Michael. Oh, Dean Bean.

They reunite with Cas just in time for Cas to have his breakthrough healing moment.

For Science

They turn off the life support machines and, after a brief jolt, Donatello pulls through. It’s a miracle! He’s probably not evil, right? I mean, the lack of soul will almost certainly steer him well. (Lord, we’re going to be stuck with this chicken-addicted prophet forever, aren’t we?)

Donatello wants to know what happened and Dean slaps Cas on the shoulder and somewhat snarkily leaves the job to him. Dean. Bean.

Sam greets Dean back at the Impala with beer and misery. After the “win” of getting Donatello back, it’s time for them to head on home so Dean can lock himself into his torture box. Sam delivers an emotional speech about their shared experiences and accuses Dean that he’s checking out of the world too soon. “If you quit on us today, there will be no tomorrow.” Sam rails at Dean, begging him to give them all a chance to save him. “I believe in us,” Sam shouts and punches Dean in rage and pain.

Reluctantly, Dean promises to go home with Sam and hold out for another option for as long as he can. Dean offers a contingency agreement: if they have no other choice in the future, then Sam and Cas have to let him go.

“Let’s go home,” Dean says to them both. Hooray! And...that should get to me but what really quietly wrecked me was Dean telling Sam quietly, “Don’t hit me again, okay?” before they all climbed into the car. Welcome, hello, my heart is now in a coffin at the bottom of the ocean.

After they all depart, the title card fades ominously to white.

Everybody knows what makes Doctor Sexy sexy is his Quotes:

Well, the woman has a remarkable command of profanity.

If we could not have conversations that sound like deathbed apologies, I would really appreciate it.

Dean, it’s so good to hear from you.

Thank you, and it’s good to hear your voice.

“Doctor.” “Doctor.” “Doctor.”

Dean. If there’s a spark, a hope, then I have to try. You taught me that.

No rest for the self-destructive.

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#spn recap #spn 14x12 #prophet and loss #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #nick #donatello redfield #dr sexy #supernatural season 14

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