#i was just gonna make a post that sam winchester is The losing dog

[quillkiller]

maybe i should make a sideblog for all my other hyperfixations

[oflosechesters]

for anyone curious, the following meta and the elaboration below are in relation to this post. i posted this to another blog of mine, but i felt i should share it on my personal as well.

okay, i actually genuinely don’t wanna shut up about the significance of miracle because it’s possibly one of the most redeemable qualities of the spn finale. it’s actually really important, even if you don’t like the circumstances surrounding it.

at first i just sort of went off about it in some tags:

#this is the only good thing about that entire finale #it is the one thing i actually loved from a meta perspective in terms of dean's archetype #so i gotta have the puppy snuggles on the blog i'm so sorry #other than that this is largely a finale free blog lmao #i actually have a Lot of feelings about dean being given a dog #and naming the dog miracle #am i gonna end up writing meta about a dog? possibly #in broad strokes: dean has always been the archetype of a soldier #but never once has he been allowed to be a veteran #the dog very much is representative of that #it's very commonplace for veterans to have emotional support animals #dogs in particular #the way miracle launches into dean's arms after dean's just woken up is indicative to me that it's commonplace #likely after nightmares #which means that (for me) dean's PTSD is being subtly addressed #which means when i retcon the disaster of a finale for my portrayal miracle is absolutely staying #spn 15.20

but there’s so much more to it than that. 

the thing about the dog, if we’re staying within the context of the canon, is that this is a dean who has lost everything (keep that wording in mind, because we’ll be coming back to it). the war is won, and he's come home, but the cost was high. we also know that dean has canonically suffered from PTSD since the end of s3, though it’s not always been explicitly addressed in the following seasons. regardless, it's an aspect of his character that is widely established and recognized.

much like in s4, and after the purgatory storyline in s8, dean’s PTSD is shown to manifest itself largely through substance abuse, anger management struggles resulting in bouts of extreme violence, and nightmares. it’s a thread throughout the narrative whether it’s consistently addressed or not. more importantly in terms of the dog: dean is never allowed to heal, because the war wages on.

by the series finale, the war is won, but the cost is castiel’s life. what does the dog have to do with castiel, you ask? more than you might first think. i don’t want to get too deep in the paint, so i’m going to focus primarily on 13.01, dean’s grief arc in early s13 in general, and some key aspects of s15.

returning to the concept of being left with a dean who has lost everything, i want to point out a choice of dialogue in 13.01. the following is said during a scene of mourning, after they’ve lost castiel, and dean is left to wrap his body for burial.

dean [voice breaking]: we’ve lost everything. and now you’re gonna bring him back. okay? you’re gonna bring back cas.

this scene is the beginning of a several episode long grief arc where dean is depicted classically as a mourning widower in terms of cinematography (viewed on bended knee from above, distant and distraught after the death scene itself at the end of s12), and is then shown to slip into apathetic suicidal tendencies. his substance abuse reaches such a low that he quite literally drinks himself to death, but death will not take him, despite his wishes. he rages at sam for being able to move on so easily, in 13.03, patience:

dean: and what about cas? sam: what about cas? dean: he manipulated him, he made him promises, said, “paradise on earth” and cas bought it. and you know what that got him? it got him dead! now you might be able to forget about that, but i can’t!

the grief arc firmly establishes castiel as being representative of dean winchester’s hope, and the will to live. this is reinforced throughout s13 – s15, as it is further mirrored in later episodes, such as in act 3 of 15.09, the trap, in which sam is shown alternate futures. in every future where dean has lost castiel, he is shown to have lost his hope, and his will to continue on.

dean: no, sam. it doesn't matter. sam: what are you saying? dean: what i've been trying to say for months. it's time... time to stand down. sam: you want to quit? what's happened to you, dean? ever since— dean: ever since what? we lost pretty much everyone we’ve ever cared about? ever since the mark made cas go crazy? ever since i had to bury him in a ma’lak box? ever since then?

these follow an old tradition within the writing of spn that can be pointed at as early as 5.04, the end (“cas, too?”): castiel is always singled out apart from the rest. castiel, an angel, who saw worth in dean when dean couldn’t see it in himself. an angel who became his best friend, and loved him when dean couldn’t love himself. castiel, who saved him the moment they met, and saved him in death, as seen in 15.18, despair. given everything preceding this, it’s evident that this is not a small loss for dean. when they lose cas, dean loses the will to go on.

in losing cas that final time, cas’ confession — his assertion that dean is full of love, not anger — finally seems to break through. when fighting the main antagonist of s15, he is called “the ultimate killer.” at one time, dean would’ve agreed with this. but after cas’ confession, he denies it, and firmly says, “that's not who i am.” because that’s not who cas fell in love with. point being: castiel’s sacrifice affects dean enormously.

at the end of all things, when dean crosses the threshold from soldier to veteran because the war is won, he has a dog and he names him miracle; which harkens back to a scene when dean indirectly referred to cas as ‘his miracle,’ because truly: who’s been performing miracles in dean’s life over the past 11 seasons? the name holds a heavy weight and bears a large significance in the face of his loss.

by the end of s15, we now have a dean that is allowed to rest, and in resting, he is allowed to begin to heal. and the thing that is representative of this crossing of the threshold from soldier to veteran is giving the veteran an emotional support dog. that dean names miracle. something that is saving him, day by day, even in small ways. it’s just not only important for dean's development and healing after finally making that transition, it’s also the lasting influence castiel still has, even in death. it’s absolutely heartbreaking, especially when one considers how many of dean’s nightmares, stemming from his PTSD, canonically revolve around losing castiel — as is shown in early s8 through the purgatory storyline; therefore it is not incongruous to assume similar nightmares would crop up after the events of 15.18. and we’re shown this.

the dog jumping into bed for cuddles after dean wakes up is just so telling. but the way dean wraps around the dog, clinging? it’s the most telling.

granted, there is every possibility that i am giving the show too much credit (as it’s been shown we, as fans, are wont to do). but the concept of death of the author was quite literally pushed into the narrative of s15, and i personally like to think that no matter what else happened in 15.20, certain things remain significant and have bearing on the story, even if unintentionally so. that’s sort of just always been spn’s way of doing things.

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (10) Taken

Summary: Y/N and the Winchesters have been hunting non-stop amid the beginnings of the apocalypse. Y/N is forced to bring out her dark side

Warnings: Show level violence.

A/N: I've been having so much fun with this series and I love hearing all your feedback. Feel free to leave your thoughts on the series and let me know if you'd like a tag. Thank you all!

Series Masterlist

After a decent amount of time spent resting, Sam had grown stir crazy and found a case not too far from Sioux Falls in a small town called Madison.

Some real estate buff and his family were the next unsuspecting targets of two hungry ghouls, but you and the Winchesters had taken the monsters taken care of before anyone was killed. It was fairly straightforward and simple as far as cases go, aside from one minor slash in your leg. It was late by the time you were finished disposing of the bodies, and you opted for a crappy motel rather than driving back to Bobby’s place. Dean was stitching you up while Sam went to go get food for everyone.

“Do you ever think about getting out of the life?” Dean asked out of the blue. Maybe he was just trying to get your attention off of the needle going in and out of your leg.

“I never used to, but lately it’s been a different story.” You took a sip of Dean’s cheap beer that was sitting next to you and made a disgusted face before putting it back down.

“What changed?” Dean glanced at you quickly, trying to get a read on your emotions, then continued his stitching.

You had a hard time opening up to people, but you wanted to tell Dean how you felt about him. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you debated whether or not to be honest about your feelings. “Well,” you began, “I always thought that hunting was my only option. I was a loner and I figured that if I was going to die, I would die fighting for the good cause or whatever.” You looked down at Dean, so carefully taking care of you. His eyebrows were furrowed as he intently waited for you to continue. You loved how interested he was in everything you said, no matter how silly or mundane. “But then I met this guy who makes me feel like my life is actually one worth living; like maybe the future doesn’t hold darkness and death after all.” Dean tried to hide his smile as he finished up his last few sutures. “I’ve never felt like I was worth much, but he makes me feel like I’m more than just a girl who can throw knives and punches… and I think that I’m falling for him pretty fast.” Dean placed a bandage over your calf and set his needle down. “Maybe you know him? His name is Sam Winchester.” Dean shot you a confused look, making you lose your composure and bite your lip, repressing a cheeky smile. “It’s just too easy to tease you.”

Dean let out a chuckle and stood up, wiping his hands off on a towel. His tongue darted in and out of his lips, leading into a perfect smile as he dove on top of you and crashed his lips onto yours, knocking you backwards on the bed. You slid you hand behind his neck and deepened the kiss.

The door handle began to wiggle, signaling Sam coming back with the food. “That kid has the worst timing. I swear!” Dean grumbled and pushed himself off the bed, marching over to the door and holding it open with an unmistakable annoyance in his eyes as Sam walked in, juggling the food in his arms. Sam, clearly clueless about what he had interrupted, returned Dean’s annoyed gaze.

“What’s your problem?” He shoved a bag of food into Dean’s arms.

Sam had fallen asleep during a re-run of Jeopardy when Dean touched your hand, silently signaling for you to follow him outside to the small balcony. You happily obliged. Once the door was shut, Dean pulled you in close, kissing you with just as much passion as he had before you were interrupted.

“You know what I want?” Dean asked.

“Some nice scotch and an autographed Zeppelin album?”

The lines by his eyes crinkled as he smiled and shook his head. “No, well, yes, but no. I asked you earlier if you ever wanted to get out of hunting.”

You nodded in remembrance.

“I want out, too. I want a boring life, and a farmhouse, with kids and a dog and a fence. The whole thing. I want to have summer barbeques with Sam and his family, and bonfires where we roast s’mores. I want it with you.”

“I’ve never had a s’more.” You admitted, smiling ear to ear at Dean’s confession.

“Me either.” Dean shrugged; his smile just as wide as yours.

That life sounded perfect. “What happened to Dean Winchester the womanizer that everyone warned me about?”

“He’s whipped.” You could see your future in those deep green eyes as he held you close.

“There has to be a porch swing.” You added. “I’ve always wanted a big comfy porch swing.”

“You got it.” Dean slipped his arms around your waist from behind and leaned down to rest his head on top of yours, making the height difference between you two almost comical. Looking out at the night sky, you thought about living a peaceful life in a small town like this one, sitting next to Dean on the front porch in the summer evenings while your kids played in the front yard. These were never things you would have thought of before meeting this man.

“You wanna go make out in your car?” You not so subtly hinted. Before you knew it, Dean was picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, carrying you back into the room and towards the door. You did your best to mute your giggles and squeals so you wouldn’t wake up Sam.

It had been weeks full of hunting, with the last case being a weird one. You'd found a town that had a working wishing well, powered by a coin that used the power of the goddess Tiamat. There was a life-sized and talking teddy bear, someone won the lottery, a kid had super strength, and the wormy guy had a hot girlfriend. It was pretty far up on the list of odd things you'd encountered.

The post-case morning routine was in full swing with the sunlight streaming through the window, prying your eyes open to face a new day. Dean was lying next to you on his stomach with drool slowly dribbling from the corner of his gaped open mouth. You loved this soft side of the ever-stone-cold hunter. Steam was trickling from under the bathroom door, signaling that Sam was almost done getting ready, so you slid out from under the covers and changed before he reentered the room.

"Morning." Sam greeted, toweling off his wet hair. "You wanna go grab breakfast, or should I?"

"You can go but I'll walk out with you and try to convince the clerk to give us a late checkout. I don't think we're making it out of here on time." You nodded your head towards Dean.

"There's a shocker." Sam grabbed the car keys from Dean's nightstand and put his arm around your shoulders, leading you out the door.

Sam took off and you managed to flirt your way into two extra hours before checkout. You exited the lobby and made your way to the outdoor staircase that led to your room. You lifted your foot to take the first step, then everything went black.

Dean’s POV

I spit out the toothpaste from my mouth when Sam came back in the room with a bag of crappy fast-food breakfast. My favorite.

"Where's Y/N?" I asked as I rifled through the brown bag, pulling out a hash brown. Sam shot me a confused look.

"She's not here?" I shook my head; a pit of concern began to grow in my stomach. "She walked out with me to ask for a late checkout. She was in the lobby when I left."

"I'll go check there. You look around for her."

"Dean, I'm sure she's fine. Maybe she's just stretching her legs." Sam tried his best to relieve my obvious state of stress.

"The clerk was useless. All he said was that she was in there for two seconds and then left." I looked to Sam, hoping he had found a sign of her.

"I got nothing." Sam held his hands up. "Did you call her?"

I pulled out my phone, dialing her number from memory then hitting the call button. Sam sharply turned his head towards the stairs and took off in a jog. He leaned over to look underneath the steps and pulled out Y/N's ringing phone. We exchanged knowing looks and I began to feel queasy.

I slammed the door to our room and began to shove my things into a duffel bag. "Someone took her." The nausea I was feeling was not-so-slowly turning to rage.

"We don't know that. Don't freak out just yet."

Like clockwork, my phone went off signaling an incoming text. "It's a link from an unknown number." Sam frowned and I quickly clicked on it. A web page opened up with a live video feed showing Y/N, unconscious and tied to a chair with dried blood painted down her face from her hairline.

"Son of a bitch!” I grabbed the lamp from the nightstand next to me and threw it across the room. "Someone’s gonna die!”

Your POV

You were sure you’d been hit by a train. Your head was pounding, and it hurt to even open your eyes. As your vision unblurred, you became more aware of your situation. First, you saw your feet tied to the legs of a wooden chair, then realized that your arms were bound behind the back of it. You heard arguing voices in the background and did your best to act like you were still unconscious as you assessed your surroundings and the sticky situation you had found yourself in. You were in a damp abandoned warehouse with old pallets stacked in high piles around you and a webcam sitting in the distance pointed in your direction. Your pocketknife had been taken from you and was sitting on a table across the room next to the two arguing captors. You didn’t recognize the two large men who had abducted you, but it was easy to make enemies in your line of work. There was almost a constant target on your back. Keeping your eyes closed and head hung low, you quickly thought about how you would get yourself out of this mess.

You began to stir, letting your kidnappers know you were awake. They finished their conversation when they heard you.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to join the party.” The bigger one greeted you.

“I’ve never been much of a party animal. Why don’t you just let me go and find someone more fun?” You snarked.

“Oh, we’re going to have plenty of fun. Don’t you worry.” As he turned his back to you, he pulled a gun from its holster on his belt and waved it in the air as he spoke, clearly trying to scare you. “See, I’ve had eyes on Dean Winchester for years. Just waiting for him to find a pretty little girlfriend to settle down with.”

You glared at him, remaining silent. You could feel the rope that was tied around your hands loosen as you discreetly wiggled your hands around. Lucky for you, your thumbs were double jointed enough that you could pop them in out of place. It hurt like hell but proved convenient when you found yourself being held hostage, which was far more than the average person ever should be. You continued listening to the monologue as you worked your hands free. You had no idea what you’d do next, but you’d figure it out. Right?

“Years ago, he took something from me – my wife. And now, I’m going to make him feel that same pain. Smile at the camera!” He pointed to the webcam sitting a few feet in front of you as he walked over and spoke into it. “Hope you’re watching, Deano! She’s gonna die a bloody, slow death.”

Sam and Dean's POV

The boys were in the car, speeding around town, desperately searching for where you were being held. Sam was looking up old buildings and giving Dean directions as he pushed the Impala to its limits. Dean’s phone was propped up on the dashboard with the live feed still streaming.

“Hope you’re watching, Deano! She’s gonna die a bloody, slow death.”

“Son of a bitch! I swear if you hurt her!” Dean screamed at the screen.

“Who even is that Dean?” Sam asked, looking for any kind of clues that would give away a location.

“I don’t know! I don’t recognize him at all but apparently I made quite the impression on him!”

Your POV

The big guy finished his address to Dean and turned to face you, with teeth and claws bared. Okay, well at least you knew he was a werewolf. Only problem was you didn’t have any silver bullets. You freed your hands completely but held them behind your back as you looked around, planning your next step and replaying it in your head a few times to go over the possible outcomes. You had to move fast because the wolf was walking straight for you.

Oh well, here goes nothing.

Keeping the rope your hands were bound with looped into the back of your belt, you tucked your head in and somersaulted forward, whipping your legs up and over your head hard to smash the wooden chair against the ground, freeing your feet from their binds. One of the broken chair legs had come to a sharp point and you immediately threw it at the onrushing werewolf, hitting him in the thigh. It slowed him down enough that you could duck behind one of the large pallets, narrowly avoiding a bullet being shot at you from the second, smaller wolf. The breaker panel was close by and you ran to it, pulling the main power lever down which turned off all the lights except a dim red emergency light. Game on.

There was an upper level which was essentially a deck around the walls of the square building. You snuck your way to the edge of the room, climbed on a pile of crates, then jumped up and grabbed the railing, pulling yourself to the upper level to get a better idea of the layout of the room below. You stumbled across a pile of rebar, taking the sharpest one to use as protection.

“What are you going to do? Call your boyfriend? Come out and play!” One of the men shouted. “I’m not scared of Dean Winchester or his gumpy brother!”

“Oh, you should be! But lucky for you, they’re not here right now.” You laughed. “See, this isn’t my first rodeo,” you began as you stalked the two wolves from up above, “I’ve been held hostage more times than I can count, and you all make the same stupid mistake. You assume that I’m just some damsel in distress, waiting for a big hero to come save me. But I got news for you, buddy. I’m the one you should be scared of.” You trailed the smaller of the two and made your move as he crouched down behind a large crate. Lowering yourself down from the upper deck, you set the rebar down and silently pulled the rope from the back of your belt, wrapping it around his neck and pulling so hard that he couldn’t make a sound. You released him once you were sure he was passed out, then hog tied him and left him for later, moving onto your next target.

“Then stop hiding and let’s do this!” The anger in your next victim’s voice was intertwined with fear. You had him just where you wanted him, physically and mentally, and took your post where you had a perfect visual of the room.

“See your hand shaking?” You yelled and he glanced down at the trembling gun in his hands. “Cortisol. It floods the body when you’re stressed. Makes your muscles tighter, reactions quicker. But put those two things together, and it makes you sloppy. Unless you learn to love it. Then it becomes a drug that you thrive on. That’s when you become deadly.” As unhealthy as it was, you soaked up the feeling of being the apex predator. You simultaneously hated and loved this side of yourself.

You’d spent years doing combat in the dark, learning to use every sense to take in your surroundings and focus on your target, making you the ultimate threat. You threw a bag full of old newspapers across the room, and he fired a desperate shot at the clatter, moving slowly towards the commotion. Following close, but soundlessly behind him, you held your weapon at the ready. He slowed to look around the corner, only to find the newspapers you had thrown strewn across the floor.

“Boo.” Your voice was eerily calm. He whipped around and you timed your swing perfectly and rammed the sharp rebar through his throat. He fell to his knees, gasping for air and you took the gun from his hand, firing a quick shot between his eyes. The shocked look was still plastered on his face as he fell to the ground, and you let out a huff of relief before moving back to the first wolf you had tied up, making sure he met the same fate as his friend. You didn’t have silver bullets, but this worked out okay.

You tucked the gun into your pants as you walked over to the webcam. “Hey Sam and Dean, I really hope you’re watching this. I’m at some old abandoned supply warehouse. I can hear a train in the background if that helps you find me at all.”

Sam and Dean's POV

“Holy crap, Dean, she broke free.” Sam leaned in and intently watched as you expertly broke the chair and turned off the lights. Dean did his best to watch as he drove.

“What’s happening?!” Dean demanded an update.

Sam shook his head. “I can’t see super well, the lights got turned off.” Sam pulled the screen closer to his face and squinted. “She’s got a piece of rebar I think…”

Dean nodded in approval of your choice of weapon. Sam gave the occasional update when he could make out what was happening.

“She strangled one of them and hog tied him.” Sam raised his eyebrows.

Both boys listened intently as you spoke with clarity, messing with the last wolf’s head as you stalked behind him then stabbed him in the throat.

“Hey Sam and Dean, I really hope you’re watching this. I’m at some old abandoned supply warehouse. I can hear a train in the background if that helps you find me at all.” The brothers heard your message and Sam quickly found your location. Dean turned the car around and sped off towards you.

The boys sat in silence, trying to process what just happened. Dean’s jaw had been clenched since the moment he realized you had been taken and wouldn’t relax until he was holding you safe in his arms. He felt guilty that you had been taken because of him, but at the same time, he felt so proud that you had taken control of the situation with such ease that it was almost scary. No, it was definitely scary. This wasn’t a side of you that he had seen before. He knew he should be concerned, but he loved it.

Sam spoke first. “So… Y/N is terrifying.”

Dean scoffed in agreement. “That’s an understatement.”

Your POV

You had dragged the bodies of the two wolves behind the warehouse where a construction site was filling in a large hole with concrete. You tossed them in, turned on the mixer, and covered them up enough that they would never be found. It wasn’t too long after you’d made your way back to the front of the warehouse that the familiar sound of the Impala speeding closer rang in your ears. Dean drifted around the corner and drove straight to you. He was out of the car before it could even roll to a stop, and you met him halfway as he pulled you into a massive hug.

“Y/N, I’m…” Dean began before you could cut him off.

“Stop. If the next words out of your mouth are anything to do with apologizing or blaming yourself then I don’t want to hear them.” You knew exactly what he was thinking.

“This was my fault.”

“Dean, this is not the first time I’ve been kidnapped by a monster out for revenge, and it won’t be the last. You didn’t send that wolf after me so absolutely none of the blame is on you. Not to mention, I’m a damn good hunter and I know how to take care of myself. Aside from this,” you touched your fingers to the wound on your head where you had been knocked out this morning, “I don’t even have a scratch on me.”

Dean sighed and squeezed you tighter. You’d never had someone there to comfort you after being kidnapped and it felt nice to know that you’d be missed if something happened to you.

“Y/N I’m in love with you.” Dean’s words took you by surprise. “Have been since the day that we met, and I should have told you before now.” You began to respond, but he held up his hand, stopping you. “I gotta say this.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I love that you are so kind and genuine with every person you meet, even if it’s some stranger on the street. I love that you can eat enough chocolate to kill a horse, and I love that aren’t ashamed of that. I love your taste in music. I love that you are the most badass person I’ve ever met. I’m pretty sure you’re some kind of international hitman or something after what I saw today. But more than anything, I love that you make my life one worth living.”

“Are you just saying all this because you’re scared of me now?” You joked. Dean smiled softly as he shook his head. “I love you too, Dean Winchester. I have from the start.”

“Let’s get you back to the motel and make sure you’re okay.” Dean examined the gash just above your hairline where you’d been struck with a tire-iron this morning. “I’m glad you’re safe. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He kissed you hard, not caring that you were covered in blood splatter.

Sam gently slapped you on the back, clearly proud of you. “Y/N, that was freakin’ amazing. I felt like I was watching an action movie or something. That whole spiel about cortisol was so kick ass!” Sam and Dean both put their arms protectively around your shoulders and led you back to the car. “I’ve never seen anyone take control like that. They were terrified of you. I was terrified of you!” Sam continued to rave as you and Dean exchanged grateful smiles that the three of you had a happy reunion.

Chapter 11

Tags:

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@vicmc624

@akshi8278

[iotiamohd]

@iotiamo follow for follow? <3

Schrödinger’s Leak

We’re extremely sorry to say: this is fake. We made it because we’re agents of chaos  to prove that it was possible to do something like this in two days. It took a lot of work at the sacrifice of our sanity, but we did it, and filmed on a phone like the original leak was, it could pass off as real. (Look through this blog if you want to see the ugly truth of the HD version.)

The problem is...we were originally doing this to prove that the leak was real, because “no way someone would do this in two day, especially without getting paid”, and instead not only we realized it’s possible, but we’re left with more doubts than before. Keep on reading if you’re interested in what we (didn’t) find out, and what we did to put this together. 

We could have posted this a bit earlier, but we didn’t want to distract from the #SomethingToSay campaign.

IO TI AMO

Guys. Guys, we wish we could explain the sheer amount of things Vittorio Guerrieri, Cas’ voice actor, has been in. This man is in every anime dub ever, it’s impressive—we knew finding that specific “Io ti amo” was a losing battle, but we still tried. 

Oh, God, did we try. We went through English scripts of all the rom-coms he’s dubbed; compared that to the Italian subtitles of those same movies, looked for working links to stream the Italian dub and check if the “I love you”s we found were the right one....brain cells were lost. Progress was not made. 

We settled on using the one in Marley & I (lmao), that Owen Wilson’s character says to the dog  to his wife. It’s even better than the one in the leak, in our humble opinion, @ og leaker, suck our collective dicks.

Pictured here: Owen Wilson confessing his undying love for Dean Winchester (as he should).

ANCHE IO

The closest match we had is Dean's Anch'io, (me too).

Although it wasn't a Supernatural "exclusive" line, we decided to search within the original scripts and look for an Italian corrispondance. We found it.

2x20 [9.54] - What Is And What Should Never Be It not only was a perfect match in terms of sounds, but after analyzing the file with Audacity we had no doubt about it. Furthermore, if you overlap the OG leak's "me too" with the one we found, they seem to perfectly fit. 

Listen to the cleaned and compared audios here, and stay tuned for our mixtape, it’s gonna be straight fire. 

Here are the graphs. The “Anche io” from 2x20:

“Anche io” from the leak:

Obviously we didn’t expect them to look the same, considering the differences in audio quality, but they’re still very similar. It was listening to the audios side by side that convinced us. 

...Is this proof that the leak is fake? Idk. Probably yes. But what if it’s a coincidence that they’re so similar? How different could the two graphs for two small words said by the same person possibly be, after all. And what about all the other lines that we couldn’t find a match for? You see now why we’re conflicted. 

CASTIEL

The original idea was to go through every. single. time. Dean says “Castiel” in the Italian dub, hoping to find a perfect match for the one in the leak. We figured every other line could have been taken from the voice actors’ older works (both Castiel’s and Dean’s are very popular here in Italy, and their voices have appeared in...everything, basically)—but that “Castiel” had to come form Supernatural. 

We didn’t find it. We went through a lot of the episodes with Castiel in them, the ones with more emotional scenes first, and found nothing...we ended up getting distracted by the search for Mi dispiace, Dean, when we realized that also had to come from Supernatural. We settled on using the first close match we thought of: the scene in 09x01 where Dean is praying in the hospital’s chapel. 

This is not the “Castiel” used in the leak, so we can’t prove that it’s a recycled line stoled from an older episode of the Italian dub. For all we now, Stefano recorded it for 15x18. 

“Castiel” from 09x01:

“Castiel” from the leak:

Does this prove anything, considering how bad the audio quality of the leak is? We wouldn’t get the same exact graph even if it was the same snippet of audio. (By the way, when we started this we thought that Dean had rarely said Castiel’s name like that in the dub. We’d forgotten than Italian!Dean never calls him Cas, the asshole.)

The same problem remains: did the leaker find some obscure anime episode where Guerrieri says Io ti amo and used it to dub Castiel, or is this all very real, and that’s why we couldn’t find it anywhere? We don’t know, we just don’t know. 

MI DISPIACE, DEAN

Apart from the very wistful "Castiel..." right before Dean gets chucked on the ground (lol get rekt), the other line that came without a doubt from Supernatural is "Mi dispiace, Dean."

I'm sorry, Dean, a sentence that Cas doesn't say that often throughout the show: we checked the English scripts, and we found only three instances where it happens (we only have up until season 13 dubbed in Italian, so if he ever says it in the remaining two seasons, it certainly doesn't have an Italian version). 

5x22 - Swan Song: Cas says it, and it's very obviously not the one in the leak. The tone is completely different. 6x22 - Meet the new boss: again, close but no cigar. 7x01 - Reading is fundamental: at first we thought it was the exact same one, and that's why this particular Mi dispiace, Dean is the one you can hear in our fake leak. After checking with Audacity, the one in the episode and the one in the og leak don't correspond. It's just the closest we could find. 

So...? What does this mean? We don't know. It's very possible that Italian!Castiel does say Mi dispiace, Dean somewhere in another episode, straying away from the original English script, but without transcriptions of the Italian dub available online, we had no idea where to start. 

It's also possible that the leak is real, and that's why we found no doubles for this line. 

Also: we've seen people in various posts about the leak saying that the change from "Goodbye, Dean" to "I'm sorry, Dean" is suspicious. It's not uncommon to change lines if it means lipsinking them better, and considering what was happening in the scene, it's not out of place to have Cas apologize to Dean. It wouldn't sound weird to someone who has never watched the original episode. 

But, there's another argument to make...Cas has never said goodbye, Dean in older episodes (as far as we could find), and the og leaker was forced to use the next best thing they could find in the Italian dub. 

THAT MONITOR...THAT DAMNED MONITOR...

That monitor in the leak looked so sus at first. Is it normal for professional studios to use equipment older than some people on this hell site?

Apparently yes. 

We've found a bunch of photos of voice actors in front of the screen they use at work, and they all look like that. Dusty. 

These pictures also confirmed that the punctuation in the frame rate changes—sometimes it's all :, sometimes it's all ; (like in the case of the OG leak), sometimes it's mixed. Once again, we can't prove anything one way or another.

This is a pic from 2009 of Davide Chevalier, Sam's voice actor, and the framerate looks different from the one in the leak...then again, it's from 2009. What does it mean? What does it all mean?

FINAL CRIES FOR HELP

If you know more than us, please tell us:

Did we read the Audacity graphs correctly? Do they prove/disprove anything that we didn’t mention?

Does the framerate make any sense? Are we being bamboozled?

Do you have any insight on whether or not season 15 is already been dubbed? We know that season 14 will go on air in bundles of three episodes starting from the 12th of December, so it’s not crazy to think season 15 is already in the works.

Was this worth it? Was any of this worth it? We slept very few hours last night. 

tl;dr: in conclusion, we CAN’T affirm with absolute certainty if the Italian leak is fake or not, since we have evidences leading both way. Sadly, the final word will be when the episode will actually air next year.

IRTF - Internet Research Italian Rogue Task Force

[1337wtfomgbbq]

I gotta rant for a second here. I hate this app. Okay maybe not this whole app, more the people on here. Specifically the people in the supernatural community. Yes talking to you. I can’t believe I’m even back into this with you guys.

I know people can pick and chose which characters they like and which they dislike. I know, for some trauma and whathaveyou also plays into what they feel towards a character.

But I am just so mad. I’m on a little bit of a rewatch, as you are, of season 1 to 3 (maybe some episodes of 4 and 5) because those are the only good seasons, and I just wanna look at some posts of my favorite character.

But my favorite character happens to be John.

TLDR: John's character is complex as fuck and people like to oversimplify and villify him, for no reason other than „BuT My DaAAadYY WaS ShiTTy!!!!“

And I get it. People on here disregard season 1-3, even the writers disregarded what JDM wanted John to be: “I don’t think he’s as screwed-up as other people do,” Morgan told EW. “I think he is a guy who’s got a tremendous amount of love for his family. He was willing to die for his sons, willing to put himself in a place to where he could lose his life for revenge on what killed his wife. So as much has been said about John or that I’ve heard about John, I think what is missing is that he shows love in different ways. Maybe he wasn’t a big hugger and he didn’t say the right things when he should’ve — and there’s a bigger picture about getting your kids into hunting ghosts that I should acknowledge — but I think at his core he really loved his family and was willing to sacrifice everything. So I never looked or played John in a way that there was any malice toward his sons.”

People project what went wrong in their lifes and with their fathers on this app SO HARD. To be fair they do that everywhere. But it's so infuriating when it's done to a character you love so much.

And as much as I wanna be understanding I am just so pissed.

Hear me out: Back when I first started watching supernatural (I was fucking 12 back then, can you believe that) and my friend was all „OMG Sam is such a treat. He's mine!“ I thought, okay I'm gonna take Dean then.

The coin finally dropped on me in 'Shadow' and I realized „Heck, screw Dean, I'm taking John!“ (Not that I told my friend that, LOL. I hadn't realized just then that I prefer older guys)

And attraction is one thing, but the character spoke to me on such a deep level too. I mean, you got a dude whos wife died in a way that he cannot explain in a rational way, only to have his eyes opened to the supernatural by Missouri. And it turns out whatever killed his wife also did some fucked up shit to his kid and is after, not only his youngest but, all of them.

So he's forced to take his kids on the run. But, he's also an ex-marine, he's a soldier and he can't leave other people to die at the hands and claws and teeth of monsters and ghosts and strigas and whathaveyou. Which leaves him struggling to ballance protecting and caring for his kids and saving people and hunting things, AND finding the thing that killed his wife.

The way John's situation was set up (ignoring for a second what we learn in later seasons) and the way Sam was brought up by him created a relationship that was bound to escalate; it was only a matter of time.

Season 1 to 3 we got a John that was distant and rough, but a John that recognized he fucked up along the way and who saught to rectify where he went wrong with his boys.

Season 1 episode 20: „You gotta understand something. After your mother passed all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you...prepared. Ready. Except somewhere along the line I ... uh ... I stopped being your father and I ... I became your, your drill sergeant. So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was, that you were gonna be alone. Vulnerable. Sammy, it just... it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me -- We're just different.“

And guess what, Sam admits seconds later: „We're not different. Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess... Well we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone.“

Season 1 episode 21: „I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want....I want Mary alive. It's just....I just want this to be over.“

John literally on the show in person, Jeffrey Dean Morgan Season 1, admits that he didn't want ANYTHING OF WHAT HAPPENED, AND WHAT HE HAD TO DO TO HAPPEN!!!!

Sure, Sam suggested to Dean that John's just „working overtime on Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later“ in the very first episode but we never see John drink alcohol, for all he's on screen in season one, ONCE. (1x1) Suggesting that John did have a drinking problem but somewhere between Sam going off to college and the pilot he kicked that habit.

Sure, Sam is clearly vindictive BUT, when faced with a kid with a clearly abusive father, he also says that, „Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we coulda had Max' childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him.“ (1x14)

We see him cry on multible occasions in season one and two, we see him hug both Sam and Dean and tell BOTH OF THEM that he is proud of them. Heck, he couldn't shut up about how proud he was of them. Like Jerry told Sam in 1x4 „Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell, He talked about you all the time.“ He kept Sam's soccer trophie, and Dean's first sawed off. He fucking died to safe Dean.

Yeah, he told Dean that he'd have to kill Sam if he goes evil but...

Let's take into consideration season 4 and 5, and John wasn't all too wrong for telling Dean this. Even if we ignore all that, as John probably didn't have the full picture, John didn't knew the extend of Sam's powers. As is always said, „With great power comes great responsibility“. We have seen in comics, shows, movies, all over pop culture and history, how easily great power can corrupt, don't matter how nice and righteous that person is.

Let's take into consideration what was added in season 4 and 5: Like John having another family, the fact that cupid had to get him and Mary together, Mary making a deal with Azazel, the few demons (not even all of them) Lucifer showed Sam who had been put into his life by yellow eyes; even that just adds more credence to the already established character.

Of course John was bound to have flings after Mary, you can't expect a widower to just be celibate forever. And it wasn't even that he bailed on her, he literally didn't know there was a child until twelve years later.

And considering John's erratic 'work schedule' and how little we know of Kate, maybe it was her that wanted John not to have much contact to her son. The whole situation with Adam isn't exactly clear, and told through the eyes of a ghoul. Plus, we all saw where John's decision to leave Adam in the dark about the supernatural had him end up (namely killed by a ghoul).

The fact that cupid had to get John and Mary together only gives more ammunition for my argument that John was only working with what was given to him. Pretty much everyone from hell to heaven was meddling in his life.

Getting ahead with headcanons here but, for all we know John and Mary would've never ended up together; for all we know Mary was a lesbian and John was bi; for all we know they could've still worked out without cupid's help. Who knows? We don't because heaven took that decision away from both John and Mary.

The fact that Mary made a deal with Azazel to safe John's life in exchange for Azazel to be able to enter her home in ten years time, again, caused something to happen down the line that affected John and the boys that John had no control over.

And I gotta thank Lucifer for his part, because it gives EVEN MORE credence as to why John couldn't give Dean and Sam a normal life. He reveals SOME of the people Azazel planted into Sam's life that were actually possessed by demons.

„LUCIFER: Look closely. None of these little devils look familiar to you? SAM: That's Mr. Bensman... One of my grade-school teachers. LUCIFER: And that's your friend Doug from that time in East Lansing. And Rachel... your prom date. Sam Winchester, this is your life. Azazel's gang – watching you since you were a rugrat, jerking you around like a dog on a leash. I know how you feel about them. Me too. So, what do you say you and I blow off a little steam?“ (5x22)

A few episodes earlier we found out that his friend Brady, the one that introduced him to Jess, was actually possessed by a demon, and the one that fucking killed her.

„BRADY (chuckles): Brady hasn't been Brady in years. Not since, oh... middle of our sophomore year?

SAM: What?

BRADY: That's right. You had a devil on your shoulder even back then. All right, now, let it all sink in.

SAM: You son of a bitch. You son of a bitch! (Sam approaches Brady, Dean holds him back) You introduced me to Jess!

BRADY: Ding, ding! I think he's got it!“ (5x20)

All of this paints a clear picture for me, of a man that got played by fate and heaven and hell and was only trying to play the cards all of them dealt him to the best of his ability. Did he fuck up along the way, yes, did he show remorse for that and did he wish he could've given Sam and Dean a better life, Yes.

I completely understand people liking one character and disliking another, even projecting onto characters I get. And I get that people's life experiances lead them to different conclusions.

But it pisses me off so much that I can't go into the 'John Winchester' tag without having to read some shit as fuck take on John.

I have to read people saying that he never told Dean he was proud of him and that the only time he did so he was possessed by Azazel. Which isn't even true, but a motherfucking lie.

Season 2, episode 1; when John WASN'T POSSESSED ANYMORE he said to Dean: „You know, when you were a kid... I'd come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen... I'd be wrecked. And you... You'd come up to me... you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye. You'd say, "It's okay, Dad." Dean. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to say that to me. I should've been saying that to you. You know, I put... I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sam, and you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know... that I am so proud of you.“

I have to read people forget or disregard that John was literally a righteous man. Alastair tried to break John and John didn't break for a century and then clawed his way OUT OF HELL TO SAFE HIS SONS IN 2x22. John must've had righteousness in heaven (which would come through faith in Jesus) and righteousness on earth (which would come through living through the commandments) as long as that's what the writers meant with 'righteous man'.

I have to read stuff John would apparently do only because we learn in 'Dark side of the Moon' that John and Mary's marriage wasn't all sunshine and rainbows and that John even moved out for a period. Even though we don't know who caused that fight and what it was about, literally it could've been Mary's fault and John only left to cool off. And even if not, marriages aren't just sunshines and rainbows. Fights happen, bad stuff is worked out. That would be true even without the cupid spell.

I have to read someone projecting their experiance with their father onto John. I have to read about someone saying John would've been such a dick because he was in the military and fought in the vietnam war, and we all know that's what all sodiers back then were (dicks). I have to read about how homophobic and transphobic John obviously was. I have to read about how much John would've been racist to Sam and Dean if they'd been mixed.

John was born in 1954, he has to be homophobic and transphobic and racist and bigoted and everthing you can think of. It can't be possible for someone to be born during that time and not be, right. (I hope you recognize the sarcasm)

Everybody is screaming 'child abuse' as loud as they can without taking into account the unique world those characters inhabit and the situation fate, heaven and hell put John and the boys into.

Dean could dig himself out of his grave because John used to bury them alive and had them dig their way out of a coffin as training!!!? Are yall good?? Literally what did your parents do to you, what went wront in your life that you think shit like this?!

And I get it, you can headcanon all you want. I myself headcanon John as bi and that Azazel knew and used this fact.

The writers did John so dirty in later seasons, and I'm not even alone in this, JDM agrees with me.

„But it always bugged me that the John that I played is different than the John that has been portrayed since I haven't been around. I really wanted the opportunity to be able to come back and make amends in a way and try to fix the sullied name of this character. But more than that, it's three friends, life lived. It feels like we've been friends for a lifetime now, getting to reunite in a place that we love and that we met and do what we do and I think that is super cool. So not only does John win in getting to come back and see his boys and Mary again and hopefully make some amends, it's just as cool for me, the actor, to be able to come back and see everybody.“

I'm sorry, but if Snape fans are allowed to be pissed about people suggesting Snape would've been creeping on Harry if he had been female and looked like Lilly, I can be pissed about everybody and their grandma in this fucking fandom painting John in the worst light possible.

JDM created such a great character with depth and who was interesting, even in season 4 and 5 they were still respectfull to his character, but the later seasons were just *throws up *

And I mean, I get it, I disregard canon too. Like, I disregard everything after season 5, that's Sam hallucinating in hell to me. Sometimes even after season 3, cause I don't feel like dealing with the angels, and cas and destiel and all that.

I get it, I get it, I get it.

But I too have the right to be pissed off about the way people like to shit on my fav.

Long story short, I love John and how complex and grey his character is and I HATE IT how simple and 'black and white' people wanna make him out to be. I wanna punch a bitch. I wanna throw hands right now.

[caranfindel]

Fic: Nothing to win and nothing left to lose

gen, s10 | about 2000 words | R for violence and language | characters: dean winchester, sam winchester, castiel | 

Written for the following anonymous prompt in the Sam Winchester Prompt-a-thon: Sam: “Please, Dean… Please, just… Just hit me.” This probably isn’t what you had in mind, Nonny, and I kind of hate posting it as a fill for this prompt because it became so Dean-centric. And honestly, even I think it’s a bit much. But here you go. Pure whump without plot, hurt without comfort. Takes place during the end of season 10, when the Mark of Cain is ramping up Dean’s violent tendencies.

+++

Sam has been standing in Dean’s doorway for five minutes. Dean has been ignoring him for five minutes. He’s aware Sam is there, of course. Hyperaware. The Mark on his arm is like an extra set of eyes and ears, an enhanced version of his consciousness of Sam’s location that normally only kicks in when he’s in full-on hunting mode. But nothing is normal now. The Mark wants to know where Sam is at all times. Dean does not know why the Mark cares so much. He does not question it. He upends the whiskey bottle with a trembling hand, drains the last of it, and does not ask Sam what he wants.

“Talk to me,” Sam finally says. Soft. Tentative. “Tell me what’s going on.”

The thing is, there are things Dean can't tell his brother.

He cannot tell Sam that when he looks at him like that, with the puppy dog eyes full of sympathy and concern and a bit of fear, Dean cannot tell him he has a vivid sense memory of putting his hands on the sides of that face and pressing his thumbs into those sad eyes, pushing until he feels the pop, rendering Sam incapable of giving him that look. He cannot tell him Alastair used to bring him boys who looked like Sam, boys he’d made to look like Sam, and laugh with glee when that was the first thing Dean did to them, every time. No, he cannot tell him that.

What he can say is “Sam, you need to not be here.”

“Where else do I need to be?”

Dean runs one hand down his face. The other clenches into a fist. “Just not here, okay? You don’t know what’s going on.”

“I do, Dean. I know more than you think.” Sam steps closer, still tentative. He’s not quite within Dean’s reach. The Mark is very aware of the distance. “I know that whatever the Mark is doing to you, it builds up. I see the shaking, and the drinking. I know that after a hunt, after you kill something, after you… after you hurt something, you’re better for a while. And I know… I know you shouldn’t be hunting right now. Not the way you are right now.”

Something hot flares up behind Dean’s eyes at that, because hunting is the only thing that helps the way he is right now, and Sam knows that, and here he is saying don’t. The Mark throbs its angry assent.

“So I was thinking,” Sam continues. “If you need to hit something, if that’s what helps. Hit me.”

Oh. The Mark’s reaction is orgasmic. Yes, yes, yes.

It’s an effort of will to tamp it down. “No, Sam. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do, Dean.” Sam’s wearing his earnest face now. “I do know. This would let you release some pressure, or whatever you want to call it. And no one else needs to be involved. No one else will get hurt.”

But Sam doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know that if Dean starts hitting him, he might never stop. Dean stands, as much to distract himself from the Mark’s bloodlust as anything else. “This is crazy. I would hurt you. Bad.” And… he wants it.

Yes, the Mark shouts. We will hurt you. Bad. And it will feel so fucking good.

Sam takes one step closer. “Cas will be back soon. Whatever you do, he can fix it. Please, Dean… please, just… just hit me.” He takes another step. He’s in striking range now. As Dean’s shaky hands clench and unclench, seemingly of their own free will, Sam takes a deep breath, plants a hand on Dean’s chest, and gives him a shove.

The reaction is half Dean and half Mark, and it’s instantaneous. Sam’s head snaps back, hair flying, as Dean slams a fist into him again and again and again. His jaw, his shoulder, his abdomen, his ribs. Sam manages to stay upright, staggering backward until he’s backed into the wall. He doesn’t raise a hand, not to shield himself, not in self-defense. He flattens his palms against the wall as Dean relentlessly pummels him. The Mark hums in pleasure at the blood dribbling from the corner of Sam’s mouth, at the satisfying crack of his ribs, at each wordless grunt of pain. Another blow to the face makes Sam’s head bounce off the wall, leaving him glassy-eyed and wobbly.

Dean grabs Sam by the collar and drags him to the desk on the other side of the room. He clutches a fistful of hair and slam’s Sam’s head onto the desk. The delicious crunch of his brother’s nose breaking doesn’t satisfy him, though. It only makes him want more. He yanks Sam’s arm behind him, pulling until he feels the shoulder pop out of its joint. Sam cries out in pain but remains limp, pinned to the desk.

Dean flips him over, keeping him bent backward at an almost impossible angle against the desk. Sam scrabbles for a foothold. Blood flows freely from his mouth and nose. It’s beautiful. The Mark wants more. Dean wants more. He picks up the empty whiskey bottle and smashes it into the wall. Sam flinches at the spray of shattered glass, and his eyes widen in fear when Dean puts the broken edge against his throat, but he still doesn’t try to save himself. It’s infuriating. The Mark wants a fight, not a punching bag. Dean grabs Sam’s hair again, pulling his head back to expose his throat. “Is this what you wanted, Sammy?” He presses the jagged glass against his brother’s throat, breaking the skin. “Are you happy now? Think you fixed me?”

Sam stares, still glassy-eyed, looking for something in Dean’s face and not finding it. He sighs and closes his eyes. Like a lamb to the fucking slaughter. But then he kicks out, sweeping Dean’s feet out from under him. Dean laughs even as he falls to his knees. Yes, the little shit is finally fighting back. This is good.

Sam stands up with a groan of pain. Not completely upright; he’s hunched over a little, favoring his cracked ribs, cradling his useless left arm against his chest. Still, in this position, he could easily kick Dean in the face. He could make a run for the door. Instead he stands there, bleeding, wheezing, watching like Dean’s gonna smile and say thanks, that was good, I’m done now.

But Dean is not done. He gets up slowly, watching for a reaction that never comes, moving between Sam and the door. If his brother had any sense at all, any instinct for self-preservation, he wouldn’t let Dean block his exit. But then, if he had any instinct for self-preservation, he wouldn’t have thrown himself at the Mark, would he?

Dean moves forward. Sam retreats, one step for each of Dean’s, until his back is against the wall again. Dean doesn’t even know what he’s going to do next until he realizes he’s still holding the broken whiskey bottle. He pins Sam to the wall with a forearm to the throat. The broken glass makes a quick jagged slash across his already bruised cheekbone. Sam’s only reaction is a hiss of pain. In fact, he looks like he’s struggling to remain conscious. He is heavy on Dean’s arm, as if the arm against his throat is the only thing holding him up. His breaths are quick and shallow. His blood-spattered lips are starting to turn blue. His broken ribs have probably punctured a lung, and in another life Dean would have to do something about that. In another life, nothing would be more important.

But in this life, oh, in this life Dean sees the pain and sorrow in those glassy eyes. Those fucking puppy dog eyes. And he wants it to stop. He could take care of it now, could make sure he never has to see that look of fear and pity again. He rests the edge of the broken glass against Sam’s temple and slowly carves a path toward his left eye. Slowly, because he wants Sam to have time to catch his breath, to realize what’s going on, to put up a fucking fight. “Sammy?” he says, grinning as he inches the glass forward. “Aren’t you even gonna try to stop me?”

But the horrified cry of Dean! comes from behind him, not from his brother. It’s Cas. Looks like the fucking cavalry has arrived. The angel grabs his arm, forcing him to drop the whiskey bottle. Dean is shoved across the room before he has a chance to fight back.

Now that Sam is no longer pinned upright by Dean’s arm, he slides down the wall and hits the floor with a quiet gasp of pain. Cas drops to kneel at his side. “Why would you do this?” he murmurs, pushing a clump of bloody hair out of Sam’s face. “I told you what would happen. I told you it was an insane plan.” He turns to flick cold blue eyes briefly in Dean’s direction. “Leave us alone, please.”

“It’s my room,” Dean growls.

Cas turns back toward him, furious and somehow even colder. “I will remove your brother from your room once I have healed him to the point that he can walk. Until then, leave us.”

Dean’s tempted to scribble a banishing sigil. God knows there’s enough blood on the floor and on his hands to do it. But, well. He’s out of whiskey anyway; may as well go find a refill. He looks down on his broken brother, slumped on the floor, barely conscious, surrounded by blood drops and sparkling shards of glass. Sam’s a fucking wreck. And it’s his own goddamn fault.

“Don’t do that again, Sam.”

Dean leaves before Sam can respond.

...

Cas finds him in the library, half a bottle of whiskey later. He stands silently, angrily, waiting for Dean to speak.

“He okay?” Dean says. He knows Sam is okay. Cas wouldn’t be out here if Sam weren’t okay. But it feels like he ought to ask.

“He’s resting,” Cas answers. “I healed his concussion. And his fractured nose and cheekbone. His orbital fracture. His broken ribs, his internal bleeding, his dislocated shoulder. Oh, and his punctured lung. He’s fully oxygenated now. I thought you’d want to know that.”

“Okay, Cas,” Dean sighs. “I get it.”

“Do you? Do you really? Because you almost killed him, Dean. I knew it was a stupid idea. I told him it was a stupid idea. But I still never believed you’d go so far. I’m sure he didn’t imagine you’d be willing to beat him to death!”

(Dean cannot tell Sam that in his dreams, he chases him through the bunker with a hammer in his hand. That in his dreams, no one comes to the rescue. That in his dreams, Sam drops the knife because he thinks there's something in Dean that will stop him, and that the despair in his eyes when he realizes he’s wrong makes the sensation of swinging the hammer against his skull that much sweeter. That he’s had these dreams ever since Sam thrust the demon cure onto him, but the difference is that he no longer considers them nightmares. No, he cannot tell him that.)

Tomorrow, or the next day, the guilt will set in. Tomorrow or the next day he will remember the way Sam’s bones cracked under his fists, remember Sam’s cry of pain when his shoulder was forced out of its socket, and he’ll want to vomit. But right now he wants to enjoy the afterglow. He picks up the bottle and heads for his room.

He makes one stop on the way. Sam’s door is partially open. Dean stands inside the doorway for a few minutes and watches his brother pretend to sleep.

“I mean it, Sam,” he says quietly. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Sam doesn’t respond.

(Dean cannot tell his brother that he never stopped thinking about ripping his throat out with his teeth, feeling the hot arterial spray against the roof of his mouth as Sam gurgles and chokes and gasps and grabs for him as if he could still save him, as if he would still save him. No, Dean cannot stand over Sam with Sam’s blood in his teeth and Sam’s hands weakly clutching at him and tell him that; he absolutely cannot.

But oh, dear God, he wants to.

And if Sam’s not careful, he’s gonna find out anyway.)

...

(The title is from “With or Without You” by U2.)

[mrsmess]

Faves and fails of SPN (season 15, finally):

Favorite episodes (in chronological order):

15:4 Atomic Monsters - Demon!Sam flashbacks! Dean in a beard! Some old fashioned banter! Meatman! Beaverdale! Love how Sam starts arguing w the parents in the parking lot - Me too, Sam, me too. Loving the self-aware monster. I know Becky is problematique™, but I dig her, so, all kinds of fuck Chuck. He must die, and when he does this is the episode I’ll think about.

15:6 Golden Time - Badass protection spells. Dean in a robe and a hot dog pyjamas. Cas going by Clarence. Jogging Sam. Eileen! God I ship her and Sam, and I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you that I don’t ship him w anyone. Liking this ep a lot, every little side plot. Nice. And Eileen is back and I know it won’t last but like, that was awesome.

15:10 The Heroes’ Journey - Pretty neat intro. Monster on monster violence to the sound of Clair the Lune. Oh, and excellent casting of Garth’s kids. Regular people trouble... Awesome! Brilliant! This is the kind of meta storylines this show should deal in, exclusively. Oh my Garth! Explosives! Why isn’t every episode like this?

15:11 The Gamblers - Oh, is this another lucky coin episode? In that case yes please! More inconsequential bullshit kindly! Loving Sam staying in touch w Eileen. Hey guys, remember when you did the gambling thing w your years? And the rabbit’s foot? Good times. Will this be an equally good time? I hope so. A god! Excellent. ”Lady, I’m Tolstoy.” Yeah ya are, and i’m dead. The guys and Fortuna bashing god. And I'm equally delighted and distraught over the lore that god created man, man imagined gods and god decided to create the other gods to play into man’s ideas, or as a distraction.

15:13 Destiny’s Child - Omg the intro! Savage garden! I’m dead. Jack w the sandwich, why is that so funny? Cas is a gem this episode! ”’Sexually intimate’?” Lol. That’s what you get for trying to speak plainly, Cas! Hunter Corp. I’m dead, again. Keep the different Deans and Sams coming! I’m digging this! Why would they send ‘em to Rio? They could be your buffy-bots!

15:14 Last Holiday - Weird people popping up in the hq is awesome. And Dean’s immediate instinct to yell for Sam reminds me of me calling mr mess for everything! ”Shouldnt you be in the woods? Nymfing?” Monster radar? Oh, oh this is excellent. So mrs Butters is capable of murder when home and family are threatened, good for her. They better not kill her. I can accept them returning her to the wild. Yes! Did I call it or did I call it? Good Supernatural, good boy! And Dean making a cake for Jack! My heart.

Fail episodes (in chronological order):

15:2 Raising Hell - Rowena! Instant win. Ketch. Instant lose. Ketch undressing Rowena with his eyes = rating plummeting. Jeez. A bit dangerous even joking about the GoT finale, don’t you think? Rowena and Ketch full on flirting... this is hell, I'm being punished.

15:3 The Rupture - Don’t call him god! His name is Sucky-Chucky. The shock of Cas! “You’ve been playing us the whole time!” This is how it works Cas, where have you been? They're always solving problems like Jason Mendoza. In-Dean-angry-voice: “Anytime I had a problem and I threw a Molotov cocktail, boom! Right away, I had a different problem.” Rowena! And Sam! No!

15:5 Proverbs 17:3 - Listen, spn, it’s your last season and if you like just wanna stop writing and casting women completely rn i won't stop you or hold it against you (also why are these ladies identical?). We’ve had a terrible run but lets just let bygones be bygones.

15:8 Our father, who aren’t in heaven - Gosh, having Eileen in the show is painful, I’m just constantly expecting a piano to fall on her head. *Ugh* Sucky-yucky-Chucky. But hey, at least everybody else looks better alongside him. Case and point: I never rly cared that much for Donatello, but it’s great to see him, and Michael’s back, sure is nice to see him too.

15:9 The trap - Ugh. Main plot shit and Sucky-yucky-fucking-Chucky. Fail. Although the flashforward to jan 6th 2021 was a hoot (but probably not meant like one, huh?) Dean’s monologue in purgatory though... gosh. This show would be nothing w/o Jensen Ackles. Omg the kiss! Nice. However, the show at this point has lost the ability to offer any sort of pleasure. Because like Sam, we know which way this will go. They used to have some hedonism working for the characters but now they don’t even have that.

15:20 Carry on - You know what? I’m not gonna make this post longer than it already is talking about the last episode of Supernatural, that has been done better by people w real grievances w the show. The kindest thing you can say about the finale is that it just as well could’ve been jammed into a few extra minutes added to the previous episode.

Mediocre mentions:

Drag me away (from you) - what is this ugly cell interface? The opposite of product placement. Yay! Retro episode! And they got the same actor to play Dean, neato! Dean admitting he had a hard time handling hunting, that always gets me. Woah! That scream effect without reverb was kinda startling. And the camera zooming in on the little porcelain clown even though Sam is nowhere n- oh shit. This was an interesting episode

Inherit the earth - Goooood I hate Chucky. Barefoot Sam is okay though. Digging this soundtrack too. Very un-Supernatural. Nice to meet ya Betty, but I wouldn’t pull up a chair if I were you. Always a fan of the shiteating grin. Jack, stripping god of his power, that’s so hot. And again: kudos to the soundtrack! The Youngbloods and then Jackson freakin’ Browne! And you know, it’s clichéd and kinda vacant, but also kinda nice. I’m cool with the story ending like this. Why did they have to do another one? Supernatural has never known when to quit, and this is the very real backside of this.

Honorable mentions:

I don’t know who this Ardat chick is but killing Ketch puts her instantly in my win column.

Winchester-dumb, new household term.

”Feels like were taking a big, probably stupid risk. Feels good.” That made me feel good too.

I’m vastly enjoying this dark-art hippie couple in Unity and Jack’s interaction w them.

Cas launching straight into his dramatic I-will-not-let-you-end-your-own-life-speech when Sam casually mentions he’d like to talk to death in Unity, that angel has seen some things, and he has learned.

Those are some pretty pretty death effects on Jack in Despair/The Truth.

Obviously Misha Collins

Things that makes you go hmm:

Which of the clowns is this supposed to be in Back and to the Future? Because the one from season 2 was a monster, right? So he would’ve gone to purgatory. You know what? I’m not an expert. I try to not pay too much attention ’cause it makes me funny in the head. But just, y’know, a general objection.

Here’s my deal w death as a looming threat in this show: it holds no weight. And even if it did it has been painted as the ultimate relief, unless you go to hell, these characters know for a fact that there’s a potentially blissful afterlife, so their attitude towards death should be, what? More pragmatic, I think. And it’s partly why Ackles is wasted on this show; That man can deliver a death monologue like it’s nobody’s business, too bad all those words have been rendered meaningless after 15 seasons of this shit!

Summing up:

So, I did not go into or leave this season happy, I knew how it would end and I was sad for everyone the show screwed over (more than it already had). Which really meant that I always had to force myself to watch another episode, knowing what was coming. But I had to see it through. I did, so I’ll give myself a pat on the back and get to work on my own personal selection of episodes that will henceforth represent spn to me. A selection I’ll enjoy all the way through. All in all I think the most frustrating thing about the show is how it insists on taking itself so freakin’ seriously. It has always done horror *and* humor best and this whole heaven and hell aspect has never sat right w me, and in any case they should’ve leaned more on “supernatural” narrative tropes (if you will) getting out of their plot problems, gambled some more and thought a bit more outside genre conventions *especially* in their main arcs, they opened up so many opportunities that they never even used. They could’ve been more like Buffy, or Doctor Who. That said, I’ll always get that spn-itch, and when I do, I’ll be happy to have seen all the episodes so I’ll know which ones to avoid.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Devil You Know: Final Part

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,511

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

“What happened?” Dean growls.

“Nothing.”

“My ass,” he says and stalks to the main room where Brady is.

“Dean, I’m fine,” Sam sighs.

“Yeah? And what about Brady?”

You’re in the corner, but even from where you stand, you can tell that Brady is alive.

“Like you said… we need him.”

A tear rolls down your cheek, but you quickly wipe it away, and push down all your feelings to the back of your mind. You need to have a clear head if you’re going to make this work. You push away from the wall and head inside the room where everyone is. Crowley appears out of nowhere, and you wonder where he was. He has spots of blood on his face, and his jacket is ripped.

“God, the day I've had. Good news. You're going to live forever,” he says to the other demon.

“What did you do?”

“I went over to a demons' nest and had a little massacre. I must be losing my touch, though because I let one of the little toads live. Oops. I also might have given said toad the impression that you left your post last night because you and I are—wait for it—lovers in league against Satan,” he chuckles, and Brady sighs deeply.

“Hello, darling. So, now Death is off the table. Now you get to be on the boss's eternal-torment list with little old me,” Crowley finishes.

“Oh, no, no, no, no. No,” Brady begins to panic.

“There is something else we have in common—apart from our torrid passion, of course—craven self-preservation. So, now, why don't you tell me where Pestilence is at?”

Brady goes to answer, but a dog howling can be heard off in the distance. It’s weird to hear a dog way deep in the woods, so you think it’s a wild animal or something. You think that until you see Brady’s face.

“Oh, God, Crowley,” he panics.

“Wait, is that a hellhound?” you ask, putting the pieces together.

“I'd say yeah.”

“Why was that a hellhound?” you press further.

Crowley searches his coat pockets until he finds what he’s looking for. He sighs and pulls out an old coin.

“What is that?” Sam asks.

“Remember I was telling you about my crafty little tracking device?”

“Yeah.”

“Demons planted one on me.”

“You're saying a hellhound followed you here?” you ask angrily.

“Well, technically, he followed this,” Crowley says and holds up the coin.

“Get me out of here. I'll tell you anything you want!” Brady pleads.

“Shut up,” Sam growls.

“Okay, well, then we should go,” Dean determines.

“Sorry, boys. No one knows more about the hounds than I. You're long past the point of ‘go’,” he shrugs and tosses Dean the coin. He catches it just as the demon vanishes.

“Damn it,” Dean sighs.

“I told you!” Sam yells.

“Oh, well, good for you,” his brother mocks him. “Luckily, we have salt in the kitchen.”

“I’ll watch Brady,” Sam suggests.

“I’ll stay with you.”

“Watch me? Get me the hell out of here!” Brady yells.

Dean leaves the room to get the salt, and you hug yourself tightly at the battle you know is coming. Brady struggles against his ropes, but you do nothing to free him. Dean should have been back by now, and you give into the fight inside of yourself. You leave your spot to help Dean when you hear a shotgun go off.

“Sammy!” Dean yells and runs into the room.

“Where’s the salt? You had one fucking job!”

“Does it look like I can get to the fucking salt?” he yells.

“Damn it, get me out of here!” Brady shouts.

“Shut the fuck up!” you scream at him.

“Great. Just great,” he sighs.

“Hey!” Crowley says from the other room with a new suit on.

“You’re back?” Dean asks.

“I'm invested. Currently,” he smiles. The hellhound barks and growls. “Stay!”

“You can control them?”

“Not that one,” he points behind Dean. “I brought my own.” Crowley pats the invisible hellhound beside him, and from where his hand is, that’s a big fucking dog. “Mine’s bigger. Sic him, boy!”

The hellhound by his side jumps at the other hellhound, and both dogs begin to fight viciously. You’re trying to stay out of the way and go over to Brady to let him go. There is no use staying here when these dogs will tear the place apart. Once he’s free, you pass him over to Sam so they can escape.

“Go, go, go, go!” Dean orders.

There is no argument coming from you, and you escape the house without problem. All five of you head straight to the car without stopping.

“I'll wager $1,000 my pup wins,” Crowley laughs.

Since you don’t want to be stuck between two demons, you get in the front where you’ll be stuck between two Winchesters. The car is packed, and Dean wastes no time leaving the area in a screech. Your head lolls to the side once you find it in yourself to relax. Sam lets you use his shoulder, but that’s not the weird part.

What’s weird is how normal it is to use Sam as a support system when Dean’s been that for you for a long time. What is happening to you two?

Crowley deemed it safe enough to stop in an empty alley to complete this transaction. Brady has no choice but to give up pestilence’s location. He hands Crowley a piece of paper with the location on it.

“I'm sure pestilence will be there.”

“What do you think?” Dean asks as Crowley gets a look at it.

“It's good,” he hands it over and turns to Brady. “You got no reason to lie, have you? Like I said before, you're in my boat now.”

“You've screwed me for eternity.”

“Nah. Won't last that long. Trust me,” he scoffs.

Dean takes the salt canister he had in the car and begins to pour a line from one end of the alley to the other.

“Where are you going?” Brady asks.

“I'm going to do you a favor,” he says to the demon before turning to Sam who can’t stop staring at Brady. “I expect we'll be in touch.”

Dean lets Crowley past the salt line before closing it behind him so that Brady is now trapped inside the area with you and the Winchesters.

“What is this?” Brady demands to know.

“All those angels, all those demons, and all those sons of bitches just don't get it, do they, Sammy?” Dean asks.

“No, they don’t, Dean.”

“We’re the ones you should be afraid of, Brady,” you speak up.

Sam walks toward Brady with Ruby’s knife in his hand. He has only one goal in mind, and you and Dean are just there to offer help if needed.

“I bet this is a real moment for you, big boy. Gonna make you feel all better?”

“It’s a start.”

With Brady out of the way, and pestilence’s location on demand, there is nothing left to do but sleep. Sam didn’t want to hear any kind of bickering that might happen between you and Dean, so he went to get a separate room for the night. It’s taking everything inside of you not to just hit Dean and scream at him.

He’s been acting like this all day, and you’ve had enough of it. He moves to the door to leave, but you stop him with your words.

“You’re not leaving here Dean until we talk about this!”

“Watch me.”

He continues towards the door, and you muster up enough courage to use your magic to stop him. Your right-hand flies in front of you, and the motel door closes and locks. Blue magic swirls around the doorknob so that Dean knows not to mess with you.

“You’re not leaving,” you repeat.

“What is there to talk about, Y/N?” he yells and turns around to face you. “You killed the child I never knew about, you took away my decision, you only thought about yourself, and you lied to me about it!”

“If you would only listen to me then--”

“I don’t want to hear some sob story about Amara, and about how you don’t want to raise a child in this life.”

“So, my feelings are nothing and yours are more valuable? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t trust you anymore. And it’s going to take a lot more than a conversation for you to earn it back, but the way I see it, you never will.”

His words hit you deep, but it’s nothing compared to what’s coming.

“You’re lucky I’m not treating you like the other witches. But with the way things are going, maybe I should start.”

With that, he leaves the room. Never has he ever said something so impactful to you than what he said right now. You really messed up big time, and you can’t ever take it back no matter how hard you try to explain it away.

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[shirtlesssammy]

15x04: Atomic Monsters

Then:

Becky was an obsessed, gross fangirl, and it was not awesome.

Now:

We open to the bunker under attack. Dean is in full beard and kicking ass. Boy, the director of this episode sure knows how to make Dean pretty. He makes it to the bunker’s kitchen to find Benny (!!!!) on the floor dying. 

I don’t rewatch Taxi Driver for a reason, Show. I loved Benny and Dean’s friendship, so while this was great just to have him back for old time’s sake, it still makes me sad that he’s still gone. (And spoiler, this is Sam’s dream. I just like to think about how Sam still thinks about this friendship he didn’t want Dean to have and it haunts him to this day.)

Dean’s looking for someone. He walks into the war room and finds him: Sam, all powerful on demon blood. Dean tries reasoning with his brother, but he’s past all that. Sam kills another hunter sneaking up on them, and then he kills Dean. 

Sam wakes up from his nightmare, gasping. SAM!

He heads to the kitchen to find Dean looking for cases, drinking coffee, and eating a plate of bacon. Dean says it’s veggie bacon when Sam tries to turn down eat some. Sam also tells Dean that his self-proclaimed nickname “Meat Man” isn’t what he thinks it means. Dean apparently knows exactly what it means and he’s standing by it. Ahem. Dean also calls Sam out on not handling their recent losses. The Just Brothers show is a real bummer.

Anyway, the case Dean found is in Iowa. There’s been a string of cattle mutilations and a young woman’s body found ripped to pieces. 

Also, it was real bacon and Dean’s a dick for trying to trick Sam into eating it. 

At Beaverdale High School, Sam learns Susie, the vic, was a popular girl and there’s going to be a prayer vigil for her at the school. Two parents show up asking about the game getting canceled --or rescheduled. They’re just can’t have that happen. There was going to be a scout coming to that game for their son, Billy. 

Sam is appalled (and I’m sad for him, so close to losing family he cared about.) The vice principal shuts down the pushy parents, and after they leave mutters, “I swear, the parents are worse than the kids.” 

Sam meets back up with Dean (eating again). Dean was just at the morgue and found a vamp fang. This one’s a weird one. Vamps don’t usually tear their victims apart. Also, she didn’t even try to fight off her attacker. 

Later that night, a fellow student leaves the school only to be attacked by the camera in the bushes!! 

Sam and Dean check out where Susie was found. No blood means she was killed elsewhere and her body was dumped in the woods. Sam soliloquies about how taking care of the monsters is their job and they carry the weight of everyone. Dean drinks from his flask. They are coping SO WELL, guys!

Sam gets a call that another girl is missing. 

WHOA. Becky, fangirl and Sam kidnapper extraordinaire, is married with kids and is looking forward to having the house to herself for the day. Just as her husband and kids pull away, she sees her old ex, Chuck, across the street. Run, Becky, Run! Chuck wants to talk. UGH. 

The VP fills the brothers in on the new missing teen. 

Chuck checks out Becky’s maquettes and learns that she’s a successful Etsy seller of Supernatural merchandise. She fesses up to how wrong what she did to Sam was, admitted to counseling. She kept writing. She wrote the good stuff, amirite? Chuck disagrees and thinks that people like the monsters. (Natasha: raises hand.) Becky’s a busy person so Chuck better cut to the chase here. Chuck won’t let the whole monster thing go. 

Chuck admits to having a falling out with the Winchesters. He also tells Becky that his sister won’t help, because “she sucks.” Becky can’t believe that Chuck thinks he can come crawling back to her. She’s got a good life now. She doesn’t need him. 

Becky’s nice though (can’t believe I just wrote those words), and asks Chuck, what makes him happy. Writing. She tells him he has to write. 

Back at the high school, Dean is interviewing a man in a beaver suit while eating a hot dog. 

JESUS CHRIST ON A CRACKER. (I’m conducting an experiment with my GA co-worker about Dean is bi-Dean/Cas. I can’t wait to hear what she says about this. She did call The Breakup a “bro-fight” so I’ll keep you all posted.) 

In the school gymnasium, Billy and Veronica bond over losing Susie. Billy’s mom interrupts and he runs away. 

The third-in-line-to-the-throne cheerleader practices her eulogy alone in a gym. I obsessed over this scene in this post about stories, because it was such a strange beat in the episode. The Winchesters confront her. They ask her to head off with them alone (GURL never do that with anyone you don’t know) when Sam notices that she wears braces. 

Sam and Dean leave the gym in a huff. Vampires don’t wear braces! Foiled by braces yet again! They go back to the drawing board. 

We finally get a peek in the happy lacrosse family’s home. Everyone’s argumentative and on edge, and when we get a closeup of the dad he’s washing blood off his hands in the sink.

The camera pans through the house to the garage where the kidnapped cheerleader, Tori, lies bound and gagged. UGH.

Chuck experiences the downside of Becky-in-momland: no booze! Chuck complains that he can no longer see Sam and Dean in his head and subtly touches his hidden bullet wound. Ooooo. Becky lays out some truths for Chuck. “You’re a writer. A writer who’s not writing. And when a writer’s not writing, they feel sad and they get lost. Why do I feel this way? Why am I so sad and lost? And what is all this naval gazing and hair pulling amount to in the end? Procrastination. Distraction. Just one million ways the writer avoids doing the one thing that is guaranteed to make the writer feel better. Which is…”

“Writing,” Chuck finishes the thought. Go Becky! Except…um…now Chuck is inspired to write again. And when Chuck writes? The world ends.

Chuck takes over Becky’s computer (RUDE) and starts his next opus on supernaturalstory-onebillionparallelworlds.com. 

Sam and Dean check out the security footage from the night Tori was abducted. They nab a suspicious vehicle and a license plate which lands them at...Billy’s house. 

At Billy’s house, strife continues to be the word of the day. The parents argue that they want what’s best for Billy - whatever that is. Sam and Dean head inside, looking as dangerous as panthers.

Sam heads for the garage while Dean cues the dad into a little fun fact: they’re not FBI. No, they’re considerably scarier than the FBI. Dean pulls out a machete which is probably NOT FIELD ISSUE OKAY. 

Sam discovers that the girl has been hooked up to an IV - she’s become a slow-release food source. The mom interrupts them with a GUN. 

Danger mom escorts Sam and the cheerleader back to the living room where they have a gun vs. machete stand-off. Obviously Dean would win this matchup, okay? He’d probably, idk, stop the bullets in his teeth or something.

Becky reads over Chuck’s work. She adores it! Chuck pushes for some notes. She asks for higher stakes and while we get distracted by her rambling about the lack of classic rock and Cas, Chuck’s expression grows GRIM and DARK and VERY SCARY. (Good job Rob, you talented cinnamon roll!) 

“You want jeopardy? You want danger? I’ll give you danger.” Thanks for the trip to CREEPY TOWN, Chuck. 

Billy heads downstairs and witnesses the confrontation between the Winchesters and his parents. Dean does his usual monologue, explaining how the dad got turned into a vamp, tried to eat cows, and started eating teen girls instead. But Sam observes Billy and points out something very different. “It’s not the dad, it’s the son.” Billy confesses: he was kissing his girlfriend when he lost control and ate her instead. Man, I HATE it when that happens. 

Billy told his parents, who covered it up. They kidnapped Tori as a longer term feed option. But now their son lays it all out. He’ll take the fall for everything, including Tori’s kidnapping and assault. And he’ll take a one-way ride with the Winchesters. 

UGH now everything is terrible. Dean executes the son in a dark wooded area as the rest of the world washes any trace of the supernatural away. 

Back with Chuck, Becky finishes reading his higher-stakes take. She’s disturbed. “You can’t,” she pleads. “This is just an ending.”

“Yeah,” Chuck says, pleased. “I don’t know how I’m getting there, but I know where I’m going.” That destination, to be specific, is just a tombstone with the word WINCHESTER on it. (Can I get a hell yeah for this meta-awareness and roundabout promise that we WON’T get this ending?) 

“You can’t do this to the fans!” Becky insists. But she’s prevented from saying more by her husband’s sudden return. She starts to explain the presence of Chuck, when Chuck just ZAPS her husband out of existence. Her kids call out and BOOM they’re gone too. I start to get worried that we’re gonna have some sort of icky reverse-Misery situation here when Chuck decides to zap Becky away as well. (Can’t wait until Becky kills God at the end of the series, guys!)

In the car, Sam directly parallels Billy to Jack. Dean admits that he wanted to “cash out” in the crypt, but that Sam’s insistence that they matter pulled him back. (Me: RLY?) Sam’s bitter. Dean’s tense. “We still do the job,” Dean says. “We do it for Jack. For mom. For Rowena. We owe it to anybody who has ever given a damn about us to keep putting one foot in front of the other. No matter what.” 

Dean goes on to say that with Chuck gone, they’re finally free to “move on” and EXCUSE ME while I go throw myself into a Destiel trash bin at that phrasing. Sam’s not in the Destiel trash bin with me, because he tells us he still mourns Jessica and now we’re HURTING for other reasons. SAM BBY! 

Back at Becky’s house Chuck continues to write...INSIDIOUSLY. I can’t wait for Chuck’s next book: Sad Boys in the Impala.

______________________________

Read These Quotes Backward for a Demonic Spell:

The end of the world is the end of the world

They have no idea what’s out there

But people LIKE monsters

I need wine

Why am I so sad and lost? And what is all this naval gazing and hair pulling amount to in the end? Procrastination. Distraction. Just one a million ways the writer avoids doing the one thing that is guaranteed to make the writer feel better. 

Nobody even mentions Cas

To see your child in pain rips your heart out

We can bury them out back. Under the peonies. Everything is going to be FINE

Fans are gonna love it

Oh, Becky. I can do anything. I’m a writer

We do the ugly things so that people can live happy

Monsters are cool. What? They’re all teeth!

______________________________

[zztophat]

｢ The Purge ｣

SUMMARY: Dean find Zatanna at the Masquerade after all hell breaks loose and asks her to perform a spell that casts a protective, no ghosts barrier around Lux. TRIGGERS: Gore, Violence Mentions, Death Mentions WRITTEN WITH: @ofwaywardsons

ZATANNA: She swung one of the emergency fire axes at a ghost. It was wrought iron and made the ghost in front of Zatanna disappear on contact. Unfortunately, she swung it too hard and it stuck to the wood pole of the photo booth. "Honestly," she muttered angrily to herself as she tried to pull the axe out. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned sharply, a defensive blast spell already dancing on her tongue, but then she saw it was Dean. "Jesus Christ," she lowered her defenses and took a moment to run a visual check on him. He was covered in blood and carrying around a mound of salt and a human heart. "Did you...get roped into a satanic ritual or something? Where is all of this blood coming from?”

DEAN: It was pretty easy to find Zatanna. Tiny as she was, she was fucking fierce. He caught sight of her down by the photo booth just as she swung an axe into a ghost like a fucking viking. It reminded him of why he tried to avoid getting on her bad side. To her misfortune, the axe stuck to a wooden post. He approached her as she tried to pull it out; Dean imagined he probably looked like shit. "Sorry, sweetheart." He pulled the axe out of the wooden post with his freehand. "Surprisingly the dumbass rituals weren't my doing this time. Imagine that." He saw a ghost approaching them from behind Zatanna. "On my count, you're gonna wanna duck." He handed her the heart and took the axe with both hands. "Now!" as she ducked out of the way, he took a swing at the ghost. The axe sliced right through it and it disappeared like mist. He turned to look at the magician. "If we're keeping score, that was like my tenth tonight."

ZATANNA: She made a face when he handed her the heart. Gross. "Aw, you really shouldn't have. Valentines day is still so far away," she replied weakly. This was the worst game of hot potato. She ducked when he ordered her to, watching as he swung the axe and cut through one of the ghosts. "Ah, ten, that's nice," she grinned. "I lost count somewhere at 30. Magic and all that." She was reserving her chaos for now in case a higher level magic was needed to resolve this. That's why she picked up the axe to begin with. "Trade you." Before he could protest, she took the axe from him and gave him the heart. "You got any idea what's going on?" she asked. She could make some educated guesses, but given the fact that hearts were required for a variety of magical spells and Dean had sought her out specifically, she gathered that he knew what happened. "Who's blood are you wearing?" she asked. "Don't tell me it belongs to the guy who owns the heart."

DEAN: "What can I say? A gentleman always plans ahead," he chuckled before frowning. Thirty. Of course she had 30. She had magic on her side. The playing ground was just unfair and the game was rigged. "Show off." He was just about to open his mouth to protest but she handed him the heart anyway. "Someone stole Death's Scythe," he explained. "Without it, the veil is falling apart and ghosts are leaking into this world." He said it as if this was par for the course in his life because it was. He'd gone through something like this before in his universe. "No, the blood is Charlie's. Reapers are tied to the veil and with it falling, she's dying again." Not just dying, she was relieving the exact way she died the first time. "She and Sam took Cupid and Belphegor to get the scythe. In the mean time, you and I have a spell to perform." He handed the heart back to her as he took the axe. "You're gonna need that," he grinned. Was he enjoying this? Okay, maybe a little. "When we went through something similar my universe, Belphegor - not this Belphegor but another - gave us a spell that created a parameter around the city the ghosts couldn't break through. Kind of like a massive salt circle. New York City's too big for the spell to encompass the whole city, but we can at least create a safe parameter around this club. You up for it, spirit fingers?"

ZATANNA: She rolled her eyes at him, but the grin remained. "Death's Scythe, now that's ballsy." Zatanna generally didn't play with necromancy. That kind of magic had serious consequences and repercussions. She frowned when he mentioned the blood was Charlie's. Zatanna tried to maintain a neutral face when he told her Sam had taken Belphegor with him. For Fucks Sake. Bells was a time bomb and she wasn't sure Sam was aware of that. Would Charlie have told him about the void? Clearly not if he opted to take Bells on this mission. Belphegor was likely at their most vunerable tonight with their friend's life on the line. They could very well lose it and New York would be turned into another Grand Canyon. Zatanna swallowed hard and focused her attention back to Dean. A spell. Right, a spell. She could do that.Focus, Zee. "I'm up for it, but call me spirit fingers again and you'll be joining the undead tonight," she warned good-naturedly. Up ahead she saw another ghosts coming their way. "You better get that axe ready again," she warned. But before either of them could take a swing at it, a black shadow in the shape of a dog side swept the ghost and began to tear into it. Hell hound. "Well, now that that ghost is occupied. What exactly does this spell need?"

DEAN: He was inclined to agree but then again, in his universe he killed Death so he really couldn't speak. He noticed Zatanna briefly freeze up at the mention of where Sam went. "What? What's with the face?" The concern in his voice was growing. He didn't like the idea of splitting up to begin with but now he was even more worried about it. "There something I need to know about, Zee?" Keeping secrets was a Winchester family trait so he wouldn't be surprised if Sam kept one or two that would've changed his mind about letting him go at this on his own. He nodded and eased into a smile when the magician told him she was up for this. "I'd rather you kill me than one of these ghosts." He nearly dropped the axe when some invisible force side swept the ghost and started gnawing into it. He could hear growling and barking enough to know what it was. Hell hounds. He felt his mouth go dry as he swallowed hard. "Right, uh," he focused back on Zatanna. "It's pretty simple. Mound of salt," he held it up. "A heart. And this spell." He handed her the journal where they'd written the spell down in case they needed it again. "Maybe you can backward magic it into being." He felt something breathing at his heel and tried not to look in that direction. As if it would matter, he couldn't see them anyway. He didn't need to to know what it was. "We better get to it before we, you know, end up dog food tonight."

ZATANNA: "Nothing, it's nothing," she tried to reassure him. "I'm just...I'm worried about him, that's all. He's gotten really close to Charlie and it looks like she's in rough shape. How's he holding up?" It was as close to an honest answer as she could give Dean right now without putting him at risk. Not to mention, she was sure if she told him about the void, he would go after Sam and then they would both end up dead. She eyed him curiously at his reaction to the hellhound. The dogs weren't likely to hurt either of them. They couldn't without having to answer to Michael. "If you can't see their form then you have nothing to worry about. You aren't dying tonight." She opened up the journal and read up on the spell. It was simple enough to perform. Either it worked and a safety barrier would be created or it didn't work and they would just go back to swinging axes and spells at as many ghosts as they could. Zatanna took the salt from Dean and poured it onto a concentrated spot on the ground before kneeling down beside it. "Do what you can to keep the ghosts out of the way. They aren't going to like this."

DEAN: He wasn't sure he believed her entirely, but the hell hound at his heels kept him from pressing further. If they got these ghosts out of the club, then these demons could take their hell hounds elsewhere for a good old fashion ghost chase. "I am too," he admitted. He was always worried about Sammy. "He's hanging on by a thread but if she dies..." he shook his head. "Look, we just can't let that happen, okay? You saw him tonight." He looked at his heels, feeling the heat of the hell hounds breath where Maze slapped his ass earlier. Was this her dog? Was she fucking with him still? "Yeah, call it bad life experience." He threw the axe over his shoulder and moved to stand behind Zatanna in order to guard her while she worked on the spell. "You got it. I should've opted for the flannel suit, really," he grinned lazily. "Might as well go full lumberjack."

ZATANNA: "Yeah, I saw him tonight," she smiled softly, remembering how Sam's entire face lit up when he was around Charlie. It hurt a little to think back on how warmly the night started and how quickly it all went to hell. "It won't happen," she assured Dean more firmly this time as she placed the heart atop the mound of salt. She looked up for a moment to see Maze periodically staring at her and Dean. It dawned on Zatanna that the hell hound keeping a parameter around them was likely Mazikeen's. Whether she was doing this for their safety or simply to put pressure on them, Zatanna didn't know. The magician placed her hands over the heart and began to recite the incantation backward. "Imina muronrefni sutirips issyba itcerrus ogifed sov artni ainifnoc inmaicniv!" She slammed her hands down on the ground with force and intent, causing a red energy to pulse from the heart and rush out in all directions. As the energy expanded, ghosts were forced out of Lux. Zatanna's own eyes began to glow a similar red color to the heart as she harnessed the spells powers and began to push the barrier further and further around the club, bringing it to encompass not only Lux but the surrounding areas. Maybe she would be able to include more of New York than they thought. As she pushed herself, she felt blood dripping from her nose onto her lips and chin. The spell was talking as much from her as she was giving, but if it meant potentially saving more lives she would take the risks. She knew (or at least thought she knew) how far she could push before she ended up one of the dead too.

DEAN: He wanted to believe that they'd be able to fix this before anyone got hurt, but she hadn't seen Sam the way he had in his universe. When the kid lost hope, it was game over. Right now, Charlie held most of his hope. Dean liked the girl, she was good for his brother. Her softness balanced out some of Sam's harsh lines. It didn't get rid of all the trauma, but it made it easier to swallow. He couldn't see the hell hound, but he no longer felt the dog at his heel. He figured it had taken a position in front of Zatanna, guarding her that way while he covered her back. Or maybe it went away entirely. Dean was okay with either option, to be honest. When the magician slammed her hand down on the ground, a title wave of red reverberated throughout the club. He could hear anguished screams as the ghosts were pushed out of the club. Dean turned to look at Zatanna when they were all gone and his face dropped. Her eyes were glowing red and blood was dropping down her nose as she pushed the spell forward. "Son of a bitch!" he dropped the axe and dropped to his knees in front of her. "Zatanna!" he cupped her face in his hands to try to break her concentration, but it was no use. She was going to get herself killed if she pushed any further. He dropped his hands over hers and the pure force of the magic expelling from her finger tips burned his hands like wild fire. He wasn't a natural conduit for these things like she was, but that didn't matter. His fingers wrapped around her hand and he pulled until he was able to physically break the connection between her hands and the earth. The magician collapsed into him and he held her for a moment as the barrier stopped and held a steady one mile ghost free parameter around Lux. "For fucks sake, Zatanna," he breathed. "I said set the parameter around Lux and only Lux. You trying to get yourself killed?"

ZATANNA: She could hear Dean calling for her but he sounded so far away. It wasn't until his hands pulled at her, breaking her connection to the earth that it all came flooding back. First came the overwhelming exhaustion and fatigue as she collapse into him. Then came the headache. It felt like her brain had its own pulse. To her surprise, the barrier held. The club was eerily quiet now as people cautiously made their way out of the woodwork. Zatanna became distinctly aware of Dean's breathing as he checked her. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease when he found she still had a pulse. "Bold of you to assume we're not already dead and in hell," she laughed, but the effort only caused the throbbing in her head to intensify. She'd burned herself to the wick tonight, but she wasn't the only one. "Your hands..." she winced. Fuck. Grabbing her in the middle of a spell like that was like trying to hold onto a shooting star. "I'm sorry."

DEAN: He chuckled at her response. He was relieved to hear she still had enough energy left to talk. "If that's the case, this might be the swankiest version of hell I've ever been to." He picked her up, wincing sightly when pain shot through his arms, but he managed to carry her over to a table and some chairs that were still standing. "Don't sweat it, I've been through worse." He ripped apart one of the table cloths and wrapped his hands. It did nothing to contain the pain, but it would at least keep the wound clean for now. "You did good tonight, but I'm gonna have to bench you for the rest of this fight. Can you hang tight here?" He needed to leave the safety of the parameter and get as many people back here as he could. "I'll send someone back here to check on you." Maybe he could send Jack out this way. He preferred if the kid stayed in the parameter anyway.

ZATANNA: "Aw, come on, coach," she laughed but even the effort of that hurt. She knew he was right. It was best she say here and recover as much of herself as she could. When she regained enough strength, she would be able to help people get back to this side of the parameter. "I'll stay here," she agreed. "Oh, and Dean," she pulled him back as if she was about to say something serious. "Watch out for the hell hound. He's on your left." The hound never left them. Up until this point he just observed. It was in that moment that it growled to let Dean know it was still there. "Careful out there, yeah?"

DEAN: He stiffened and then straightened when the hell hound growled. "I hate this place." He turned his head to the left and the growling got closer. "Yep, definitely hate this place." He grabbed the axe off the ground. "I'm always careful. Try not to die while I'm gone. I'm the last one that saw you alive and I really don't wanna answer to your angel mafia," he shuddered but a cheesy sort of smile remained on his face to let her know he was kidding. After a beat, he threw the axe over his shoulder and made his way out of the club. Maybe it was his imagination, or maybe it was just his paranoia, but he was certain he could hear the hell hounds paws hitting the ground in time to his own footsteps. It was gonna be a long night.

[amirosebooks]

Dean’s Old Yeller Principle

“He made me so mad at first that I wanted to kill him. Then, later, when I had to kill him, it was like having to shoot some of my own folks. That’s how much I’d come to think of the big yeller dog.”

— Fred Gipson, Old Yeller, Chapter 1 (Published in 1942)

When I was twelve or thirteen my English teacher passed out copies of Old Yeller as assigned reading. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the book, the quote above from the opening chapter tells you most everything you need to know for the context of this meta post. And for those of us who are still emotionally scarred from the damned book, I’m sorry for dredging up those memories.

Now, before I go any further, a disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, this meta and interpretation of canon is my own. I’m not trying to “preach” to anyone about why Dean “is allowed” to be an asshole while he’s grieving or going through some shit. Or any other argument that consistently gets thrown back in the face of meta posts like this whenever Dean is being an emotional dick. You’re entitled to your interpretations, feelings and reactions, as am I. I’m merely offering this meta to 1) get it out of my mind 2) point and wave about the nods to this classic book that’s traumatized generations of American children 3) cheer Dean on for turning yet another teaching from the “older, wiser generation” John came from on its head.

Groovy? Okay, now we can move on.

I’m gonna throw the rest of this under the cut for length and to keep people who are sensitive to pets / animals dying in really sad ways from having their days ruined by talking more about the book unless they’re good with having that happen.

Now, as I said in my disclaimer bit, Old Yeller is largely considered classic literature here in the states. My memories of it are a weird mix of vague on the details and strong on the emotions it evoked. From what I remember, the main character was a young teenager when his family brought home Yeller. For whatever reason, our main character hated this dog. I don’t remember the details and they’re honestly not important to this meta. The hate he felt toward the dog is important. So is the fact that the hate slowly turned into love and devotion to the dog. Which made it even more gutting when, on a hunting trip (if I remember correctly) Yeller was bitten by a rabid animal and contracted rabies.

At the end of the novel, the Coates family are once again attacked by a wild animal, a wolf, and saved by Yeller’s bravery. Yeller is bit during the attack and becomes infected with rabies. Travis knows that despite his connection to Yeller and Yeller’s protection of his family, the dog must be killed before it becomes fully rabid and does any harm to him and his family. As the man of the house while his father is gone, Travis takes it upon himself to put Yeller out of his misery with his hunting rifle. Travis is heartbroken by what he has done, but knows that it was the right thing to do for his family. (From here.)

Sound familiar? Good. That’s what I thought too when we got the shot above in the graveyard in 14x20.

[Obviously, rabies, once there are symptoms like Yeller had, is incurrable, so putting him down was literally the only option. And we are talking here about Supernatural, which operates on soap opera rules so anything goes, but let’s just roll with the similarities for the sake of argument.]

I remember telling my husband while we were watching it “Dude, they’re really going to Old Yeller Jack, omg.” (I even made fanart of the moment.)

And then, something incredible happened.

Dean threw out the script yet again and set off season 15 with the dull thud of a gun being tossed into the grass.

Now, I hear you. “That’s great, Ami. Why should we care?”

Lemme tell you a thing, friend.

In order to tell you thing thing, I want to take a trip way back to season 4. Back when the brothers were still nose deep into John Winchester’s gospel of Monster = Evil = Kill The Thing.

(Screencaps are all from Home of the Nutty.)

4x21 - When the Levee Breaks

Sam: Stop bossing me around, Dean. Look. My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots, and I trust you because you are my brother. Now I’m asking you, for once, trust me.

Dean: No. You don’t know what you’re doing, Sam.

Sam: Yes, I do.

Dean: Then that’s worse.

Sam: Why? Look, I’m telling you-

Dean: Because it’s not something that you’re doing, it’s what you are! It means- Dean cuts himself off.

Sam: What? No. Say it. (Sam has tears in his eyes.)

Dean: It means you’re a monster. (Transcript from here.)

I remember the first time I watched the show and I got to this episode. That fucking line was such a gut punching moment. And it was such an effective and emotional moment that Ruby was able to extend it later to further manipulate Sam.

Now, the screencap I grabbed for this moment is of Dean in tears (well, that single man tear he’s known for) after labelling Sam a monster for a reason. I want to remind all of us of just how much it killed Dean to have to use that label for Sam. To have to try to rationalize that the boy he raised, his brother, the guy who has been there forever and has always been Dean’s charge to take care of is now the thing that Dean is going to have to put down because he falls under the label of monster.

You know what, let’s go back a little farther, to the first episode of season 2. To this moment:

Remember this look? The one we later learned was thanks to John telling Dean that Dean was going to need to put Sam down? That Sam was going to become a monster? Yeah, ouch.

I added the year Old Yeller was published (1942) to the quote at the top of this meta to help give some context about the time it was written and the world it was released into. I’d also like to make note that in 1957 (or about a year before Henry Winchester jumped forward in time to meet the brothers in season 8 and give them keys to the bunker and had to choose to abandon John when John was still a fairly young boy) Disney released a movie version of the book. It’s absolutely, if the movie exists in the SPN world, the kind of thing young John would have watched and taken some kind of black and white moral guidance from.

It’s the kind of book/movie that John would have probably (note, this is where we start diving into my own headcanons for a moment) made sure the boys were aware of when he started thinking about bringing them on hunts to keep them from freezing because the “person” on the other end of their shotgun is someone’s mom. I could see it being the kind of thing he’d use as a way to show them both that, yes, shit is hard but you have to do the right thing and sometimes that means killing the thing you love. At least, I could picture him thinking that way. (Also, this still makes me wonder about exactly how early John started suspecting there was something different about Sam, but that’s a whoooole other post.)

Moving on and forward to season 6.

6x20 - The Man Who Would Be King

Castiel: The angel-proofing Bobby put up on the house – he got a few things wrong.

Dean: Well, it’s too bad we got to angel-proof in the first place, isn’t it? Why are you here?

Castiel: I want you to understand.

Dean: Oh, believe me, I get it. Blah, blah, Raphael, right?

Castiel: I’m doing this for you, Dean. I’m doing this because of you.

Dean: Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me.

Castiel: You’re the one who taught me that freedom and free will –

Dean: You’re a freakin’ child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want doesn’t mean that you get to do whatever you want!

Castiel: I know what I’m doing, Dean.

Dean: I’m not gonna logic you, okay? I’m saying don’t… Just ‘cause. I’m asking you not to. That’s it.

Castiel: I don’t understand.

Dean: Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family – that you are like a brother to me. So, if I’m asking you not to do something… You got to trust me, man.

Castiel: Or what?

Dean: Or I’ll have to do what I have to do to stop you.

Castiel: You can’t, Dean. You’re just a man. I’m an angel.

Dean: I don’t know. I’ve taken some pretty big fish. (Transcript from here.)

This was after two seasons of Cas fighting by their side. Two seasons of Cas giving heaven the middle finger on behalf of the Winchesters. It was enough time for Dean’s first reaction in a time of confusion on a hunt was to call Cas for help. And it was enough time for Dean to go from assuming Cas was a demon summoned with “bad mojo” to drag him out of hell on behalf of Sam to genuinely starting to care about Cas.

Dean did threaten to take Cas out here if he persisted down the path he was on, but you can tell by the rest of the conversation and just how hard it was to convince Dean that Cas was lying to them that Dean was hoping talking would work and he wouldn’t be forced to put Cas down.

Unfortunately…

6x22 - The Man Who Knew Too Much

Castiel: You doubted me, fought against me, but I was right all along.

Dean: Okay, Cas, you were. We’re sorry. Now let’s just defuse you, okay?

Castiel: What do you mean?

Dean: You’re full of nuke. It’s not safe. So, before the eclipse ends, let’s get them souls back to where they belong.

Castiel: Oh no, they belong with me.

Dean: No, Cas, it’s it-it’s scrambling your brain.

Castiel: No, I’m not finished yet. Raphael had many followers, and I must punish them all severely.

Dean: Listen to me. Listen, I know there’s a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I’d have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you… Please. I’ve lost Lisa, I’ve lost Ben, and now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too. You don’t need this kind of juice anymore, Cas. Get rid of it before it kills us all.

Castiel: You’re just saying that because I won. Because you’re afraid. (Behind him, Sam picks up the angel killing sword.) You’re not my family, Dean. I have no family. (Sam stabs Castiel in the back with the angel killing sword. Sam groans. Nothing happens. Castiel pulls the sword out. There’s no blood on it. He puts it down.) I’m glad you made it, Sam. But the angel blade won’t work, because I’m not an angel anymore. I’m your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you. (Transcript from here.)

Again, Dean tried to argue with the overpowered angel, he tried bargaining, pleading, and appealing to Cas’s fondness for them, but it didn’t work. Sam was the one who was forced to try stabbing Cas and it… also didn’t work.

7x01 - Meet the New Boss

Sam: Dean, look, I know you think that Cas is gone –

Dean: It’s 'cause he is.

Sam: He’s not! He’s in there somewhere, Dean. I know it.

Dean: No, you don’t.

Sam: No, I don’t. But, look, I was pretty far gone sometimes myself, and never gave up on me.

Dean: Yeah, and it turns out that you’re about the Same open book as you’ve always been. Hallucinations? Really? I got to find out from Death?

Sam: What was I supposed to do?

Dean: How about not lie? How about tell me that you’ve got crazy crap climbing those walls?

Sam: Why? You can’t help. You got a lot of pretty severe crap swinging your way lately, and – and I thought –what? I thought why burst the one good bubble you had left? It’s under control.

Dean: What? What, exactly, is under control?

Sam: I know what’s real and what’s not.

Dean: Sam –

Sam: Dean, look, we can debate this once we deal with Cas.

Dean: Yeah, you know how I’m gonna deal? I’m gonna stuff my piehole, I’m gonna drink, and I’m gonna watch some Asian cartoon p**n and act like the world’s about to explode because it is. Hey. You got to be kidding me. “Massacre at the campaign office of an incumbent Senator by a trench-coated man.” There’s security footage. Well, I think reaching Cas is, uh… out of the cards. (Transcript from here. And hopefully my slight censoring the last paragraph keeps tumblr from blacklisting this post into the aether…)

Here’s a sad thought for you, how often do you think–while Cas was terrorizing the country as Godstiel and, later, after he walked into the lake and exploded into Leviathan goo–Dean thought about how he should have listened to Bobby and Sam and taken Cas out before he had the chance to swallow the Leviathans and become super powered? Probably a lot, I’d guess.

This moment, as much as I, personally, hate seasons 6 and 7, went pretty damn far to reinforce this Old Yeller principle in Dean’s moral code.

He had to sit back and watch, literally, while someone he cared about went out of their goddamn mind with power while killing and terrorizing people. He had to do that knowing that there was a moment when he could have done something to prevent it. He could have killed Cas when he had him locked up in the ring of holy fire and they were having one of their many breakup moments.

Dean felt like he could have stopped all of this, but he’d been weak and tried talking it out first instead. And you can’t convince me that he didn’t check the news and every drop of blood Godstiel brought about to the blood on his own hands because of that choice to give Cas a chance to see reason.

10x09 - The Things We Left Behind

CASTIEL: How are you, Dean?

DEAN: Fine. [Cas gives him a look.] I’m great!

CASTIEL: No, you’re not.

DEAN: Yeah, well, I lost the black eyes, so that’s a plus. But I still have this. [Dean reaches over and gently slaps the Mark on his arm.]

CASTIEL: Is the Mark of Cain still affecting you?

[Dean flashes back to his dream from earlier, of the blood covering him, the dead bodies lying around him.]

CASTIEL: Dean?

[Dean blinks hard, coming back to the present.]

DEAN: Cas, I need you to promise me something.

CASTIEL: Of course.

DEAN: If I do go dark side, you got to take me out.

CASTIEL: What do you mean?

DEAN: Knife me. Smite me. Throw me into the freakin’ sun, whatever. And don’t let Sam get in the way, because he’ll try. I can’t go down that road again, man. I can’t be that thing again.

(Transcript from here.)

I may hate seasons 6 and 7, but holy damn do I love season 10. I know it’s not a favorite among many people in the fandom, but it’s one of mine.

This moment, this burger date of sadness and pain, is a big favorite for me. Dean sees the writing on the wall. He’s been a Knight of Hell now. He’s been as darkside as he can get. He’s, likely, being reminded daily of his time in Hell in the last ten years of his stay there where he was torturing souls. And he’s begging Cas to keep him from returning to that place. He’s begging Cas to adopt the Old Yeller principle because he sees it as the only option left if the mark consumed him again. And that kills me.

Let’s take another jump forward to season 13, where Dabb & Co really started putting Dean’s Old Yeller principle into text in a heavy, purposeful way.

13x02 - The Rising Son

SAM Dean, wait a second. (Sighs) The kid came through for us today. Jack saved us.

DEAN No. No, whatever that was, that was a reflex. It was a sneeze. Maybe next time he sneezes, he kills us. Good night.

[DEAN hears a clacking sound coming from a distance. He follows the noise to JACK’s room.] JACK Ah!

[DEAN finds JACK trying to stab himself with a blade. The wounds immediately heal.]

DEAN Okay. What the hell?  (he gets in the room) Give me that. You—Don’t be an idiot. Look, A, this is not gonna do anything to you, okay? And B, you… What the hell?

JACK Exactly. What the hell am I? I can’t control… whatever this is. I will hurt someone.

DEAN You know, my brother thinks you can be saved.

JACK You don’t believe that.

DEAN No, I don’t.

JACK So… if you’re right?

DEAN If I’m right… and it comes to killing you… I’ll be the one to do it.

[DEAN leaves.]

(Transcript from here.)

Can I just bask in the glory of the grieving widow!Dean arc from the beginning of 13 for a moment? I’d also like to take a moment to 🙌 Jack for being a wonderful Team Free Will mirror (and mimic) from the word go.

Ahhh…

Okay, moving on.

I loved this bit in 13x02 so much. Partially because it’s such a heavy handed foreshadow to 14x20, but also because it shows so clearly how good Jack is at reading the emotions in the room. He’s, like, three days old at that point, but he’s already having an existential crisis about whether or not he’s evil. He already understands (yes, thanks to jackass grieving widow!Dean…) the whole Monster = Evil = Kill The Thing.

He also shows that he understands the Old Yeller principle. And, for better or worse, he and Dean reach an unspoken agreement here about it. (Again, this is my reading. Your mileage may vary.)

13x04 - The Big Empty

JACK I’m afraid.

MIA/KELLY Why? Why are you afraid?

JACK Sam thinks you were right, that—that I’m good. He wants me to believe it, and I wanna believe it, too. It’s just, I… I’ve hurt people. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. And I know I should feel bad, and I say I feel bad, but most of the time, I mostly… I don’t feel anything. And that’s why I think maybe… Maybe I’m a monster.

MIA/KELLY Jack. It doesn’t matter what you are. It matters what you do. And even monsters can do good in this world.

JACK You really believe that?

MIA/KELLY I have to. I have to.

[MIA hugs JACK again.]

(Trancript from here.)

Killing me would be kinder than subjecting me to these feelings so soon after being introduced to this fucking character. Omg. Poor Jack.

Now, yes, a huuuuge part of Jack’s opinion of monsters and the whole “What do we do with monsters children? That’s RIGHT, we kill them.” thing is because Dean is an asshole when he’s emotional and grieving and deep into survival mode.

But, that doesn’t change the fact that Jack is still worried about the fact that he doesn’t feel things the way that everyone else seems to. That he has powers no one, including him, can understand. And that he’s killed people without meaning to. He’s afraid of himself just like Dean was afraid of what he was capable of if the mark took him over again.

13x23 - Let The Good Times Roll

(Sam continues down the hallway while Dean turns to another hallway and approaches his bedroom door. He stops as if to listen to something and then continues down the hall, away from his bedroom door. He enters Jack’s room, where Jack is sleeping and talking in his sleep)

JACK Stop! No!

DEAN Jack? (Dean touches Jack’s shoulder to wake him) Hey. (Jack jumps up, anxious and disoriented. Dean holds out his hand towards Jack to calm him) Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy. You’re just having a bad dream.

JACK (breathing heavily) Sorry.

DEAN It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I have 'em, too. All the time.

JACK You do?

DEAN Sure.

JACK You, um… What do you see?

DEAN Well, depends. Mostly…mostly people I couldn’t save.

JACK Me, too. Over there in the other world, I said I’d protect those people. But…I saw so many of them die. And…I tried to save them. I…I tried, but… I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough.

DEAN Jack… (Dean sits on the edge of Jack’s bed) it’s not about being strong. I mean… Look, I don’t know what you saw over there, and I don’t know what you went through. I know it was bad. But I also know that you came out the other side because you are strong. But even when we’re strong, man, things are gonna happen. We’re gonna make mistakes. Nobody’s perfect. Right? But we can get better. Every day, we can get better. So whatever you’re dealing with, you know, whatever…whatever comes at us, we’ll figure out a way to deal with it, together. You’re family, kid, and we look after our own.

(Transcript from here.)

It’s not about being strong. IT’S NOT ABOUT BEING STRONG.

This is where we veer away from Old Yeller a tiny bit because, again, in the book Yeller had rabies which they could do nothing about.

The moments I’ve highlighted in this post all come back to one motivation. The overpowered person/angel/asshole in question was trying to gain enough strength through supernatural (lol) means in order to have the power to destroy a (perceived) bigger threat than whatever the cost was to get that power.

Sam’s demon blood drinking was supposed to give him the power to destroy Lucifer and get revenge for Mary and John and their lost childhood. It went badly and earned Sam the label of monster and falling, at least temporarily, into the territory of the Old Yeller principle.

Cas started lying to the brothers and working with Crowley so they could gain the power to stop heaven from starting yet another apaocalypse. Cas wanted to keep the Winchesters (Dean) safe from being destroyed in a holy war after being forced to fight his brother to the death. Again, this did not go well and lead to Cas succumbing to the Leviathans’s power and dying front of Dean after losing the Winchester’s trust.

Dean took on the Mark of Cain to defeat Abaddon, the evil that made John grow up without a father. It left him torn between going on a, essentially, soulless killing spree or becoming a Knight of Hell… again.

Hell, even the way Jack came into the world was fraught with Sam lying to Dean about working with the BMoL to have the power and strength to defeat Lucifer/the nephilim. Not to mention the months of lying Cas did after he decided that Jack’s power and strength was the only way they could destroy Lucifer once and for all. Again, this ended with Cas dying in front of Dean and the BMoL trying to exterminate everyone including the American hunters.

That’s the lesson Dean is trying to instill (hypocritically, let’s be honest) to Jack here. Strength and power come at a terrible cost and if you can solve a problem without resorting to that level of fuckery that things will be better.

And, also, that if things do go bad, that Jack is family and “we look after our own.” To Dean, this is where the Old Yeller principle kicks in. It is, in a rather fucked up but well earned way, the best option he knows for making sure another one of his loved ones doesn’t fall under that monster label. That none of them end up with more blood on their hands or bringing about the end of the world, again, because of their soap opera problems.

13x23 - Let The Good Times Roll

JACK I’m sorry.

(Jack walks towards the exit and Castiel goes to follow him)

CASTIEL Jack!

(Dean grabs Castiel’s arm)

DEAN No, hey, just – just let him go.

(Jack is walking through the woods, banging a closed fist into his hand and punching his shoulder)

JACK You keep hurting people! You keep… (Jack flashes back to all the people he has hurt with his powers – Nate, Sam, Dean, the female police officer) hurting… (flash to the male sheriff) (yelling) Why do you keep hurting people?!

(Transcript from here.)

This lesson, the lesson of power and strength not being the best answer because of the cost it comes with is not an easy one to learn. Especially when you were born as a superpowered, emotional Winchester by adoption. Life is scary when that’s the hand you’ve been dealt and using the power you have is an appealing balm to combat that fear.

13x23 - Let The Good Times Roll

JACK (moving towards Lucifer, eyes glowing and hand outstretched)Tell me the truth!

(Lucifer’s eyes start to glow, his head tilts to the side and he starts speaking)

LUCIFER She saw me when I was scouting out the bunker. She saw me and she screamed, and then…so I crushed her skull with my bare hands. And it was warm and wet, and I liked it.

(Lucifer’s eyes return to normal and he looks confused)

JACK You’re not my father. You’re a monster.

LUCIFER (yelling) Come on, man! (Lucifer bellows so forcibly that Sam and Dean cover their ears, his eyes glowing red) Okay. I tried with you. I really tried with you.

JACK Everything you told me was a lie.

LUCIFER Because I told you what you wanted to hear, man. So what?! I killed the girl! Big deal! She’s a – she’s a human! She doesn’t matter!

JACK So am I!

LUCIFER Yeah? And that’s your problem. (pointing at Jack) You’re too much like your mother.

(Transcript from here.)

To me, this moment reads as Jack embracing that black and white Winchester thinking. He has yet (even now that’s he’s currently dead in season 15) to grasp the concept of people being morally gray. He sees himself as either embracing the monster side of himself from his bio dad or rejecting that side of himself to embrace Kelly’s human side. The side that can’t hurt people on accident. The side that makes him more like the Winchesters. Because he doesn’t want to fall under than monster label. He doesn’t want to fall under that Old Yeller principle. He doesn’t want to hurt so many people that he will have to die because neither he or anyone else can control him.

Yes, this moment is FAR more complicated than just that, but it’s definitely part of it.

14x10 - Nihilism

DEAN Sam said that one of your reapers really came through with the assist. I’m thinking that was probably you.

BILLIE Don’t tell anyone.

DEAN You broke the rules.

BILLIE I took a calculated risk. I warned you about the dangers of jumping from world to world. But you ignored me, didn’t you?

DEAN Rescuing Mom and Jack, helping out those other folks – I’d say it was worth it.

BILLIE And just look at you now. Do you remember visiting my reading room? The shelves and shelves of notebooks describing the ways you might die?

DEAN Yeah. Upbeat classics.

BILLIE Well, it’s the funniest thing, but they’ve all been rewritten. They all end the same way now – with the archangel Michael escaping your mind and using you as his vessel to burn down this world.

DEAN All of them?

BILLIE All of them. Except one.

(Billie hands Dean a book. He opens it and then looks at her, stunned)

DEAN What am I supposed to do with this?

BILLIE That’s up to you.

(Dean looks at the book again and when he looks up, Billie is gone. He looks back at the book and then looks around, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face)

(Transcript from here.)

Remember what I said about Dean being well aware of the price that has to be paid in exchange for the power and strength to defeat supposedly unbeatable enemies?

Yeah… Dean “knows” that the time has come for him to call his own bluff. The one from all the way back in 10x09 (not that he was bluffing then, but he didn’t have to take action on it then) when he asked Cas to take him out. “Knife me. Smite me. Throw me into the freakin’ sun, whatever.”

We didn’t know that was what this moment was until the next episode. But this is the moment when the Old Yeller principle went into effect again. And you can see how much it hurts Dean, how resigned and heartbroken he is over it.

14x11 - Damaged Goods

DEAN It’s a Ma’lak box. [DEAN closes the door to the box. He and SAM are standing over it.] Secured and warded. Once inside… nothing gets out, not even an archangel. Especially an archangel.

SAM Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve – I’ve read about these, but – but no one’s ever – they’re impossible to build.

DEAN Yeah, well, not so much.

SAM That’s your plan? You want to be buried alive?

DEAN Buried’s not safe enough. Plan is, pay a little hush money, charter a boat to take me out to the Pacific. Splash.

SAM You and Michael, trapped together – for eternity?

DEAN Yeah.

SAM You do realize how insane this is, right?

DEAN It’s the only sane play I’ve got. Michael gets out, that’s it for this world. And he will get out.

SAM Well, how do you know that for sure?

DEAN Because I do. Because I can feel him in my head. That door is giving. I can feel it giving.

SAM But there has to be another way.

DEAN There’s not, okay? There – Sam you’ve tried. Cas has tried. Jack… And I love you for trying. But none of it’s gonna work.

SAM We don’t know that.

DEAN Yeah, we do.

SAM What?

DEAN Billie.

SAM Billie?

DEAN She paid me a little visit. She said that there’s only one way this ends right. And this is it. This, right here, this box. So, she gave up the special recipe, and all I had to do was the work. It’s fate.

SAM Since when do we believe in fate?

DEAN Now, Sam. Since now.

(Transcript from here.)

Here is the moment. The one where Dean was at his absolute lowest. When he hit that point where resignation about his fate met having to act on his principles. 

14x12 - Prophet and Loss

DEAN Well, I will call this a win. Kinda nice. Going out on a high. SAM “Going out” being the operative phrase. DEAN Sorry. SAM “Sorry.” How sorry are you? Sorry that you fight to keep Donatello alive, but when it comes to you, you just throw in the towel? Or are you sorry that, after all these years, our entire lives, a-after I’ve looked up to you, after I’ve learned from you, I-I-I’ve copied you, I followed you to Hell and back… are you sorry that all of that it – it – it means nothing now? DEAN Who’s saying that? SAM You are, when you tell me I have to kill you. When you’re telling me that I have to just throw away everything we stand for, throw away faith, throw away family. We’re the guys who saved the world. We don’t just check out of it! [SAM pushes DEAN.] DEAN Sam, I have tried everything. Everything! I got one card left to play and I have to play it. SAM You have one card today! But we’ll find another tomorrow. But if you quit on us today, there will be no tomorrow! You tell me, uh, you don’t know what else to do. I don’t either, Dean. Not yet. But what you’re doing now, i-it’s – it’s wrong! It’s quitting! I mean, l-look what just happened. Donatello never quit fighting. So we could help him because he never gave up. [SAM moves closer to DEAN.] I believe in us, Dean. [DEAN doesn’t say anything. SAM gets angry and punches DEAN in the face.] I believe in us. [SAM tries to punch DEAN again, but he stops him.] DEAN Hey, hey, hey, hey! [SAM hugs DEAN.] SAM Why don’t you believe in us, too? DEAN Okay, Sam. Let’s go home. SAM What? [SAM pulls away from the hug.] DEAN Let’s go home. Maybe Billie’s wrong. Maybe. But I do believe in us.

(Transcript from here.)

And just like Dean predicted in 10x09, Sam was able to talk him out of sacrificing himself. How was he able to do that? By reminding Dean that they were the fucking Winchesters. They fucked with the cosmic balance constantly and always, always found another way. A way to avoid the Old Yeller principle. A way to live and fight again.

Which, they totally did, but the price of not throwing Dean into the ocean for an eternity of alone time with alt!Michael banging away in his head was their adopted child.

14x20 - Moriah

JACK: You’re not gonna lock me up again, are you?

DEAN: No.

(Dean raises the gun, aims at Jack and exhales deeply. Jack kneels down and bows his head. Dean, looking puzzled, lowers the gun and walks closer towards Jack. When he’s right in front of Jack, he aims the gun directly at his head. At this moment Sam comes speeding into the cemetery, car tires screeching. He gets out of the car and starts running towards Dean and Jack)

SAM: Dean? Dean!

JACK: (to Dean) I understand.

(Sam is still running, yelling for Dean. The music is getting more suspenseful as Dean holds his aim steady at Jack)

SAM: Dean, don’t! Dean? Dean!

JACK: I know what I’ve done.

SAM: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, Dean! Hey, hey, hey! Dean!

DEAN: Stay back, Sam!

SAM: (Panting)

JACK: And you were right all along. (Chuck comes up alongside Sam) I am a monster.

SAM: (to Chuck) Do something. … You’re enjoying this.

CHUCK: Shh.

(Dramatic music plays)

(Dean cocks the gun. He looks Jack in the eye for several seconds and then slowly lowers the gun. At this point, Castiel also comes running towards the area)

(Dean uncocks the gun and tosses it to the side)

(Transcript from here.)

I have yet to rewatch this episode, but from what I remember I don’t think it had completely sunk in to Dean in that moment of choice that Chuck was there revealing that he was invested in the outcome of this showdown between Dean and Jack. In that moment, that split second of choice between following through with what he’d believed for so long for following through with an extension of the order John gave him about Sam back in the hospital back in 2x01, Dean made a choice for himself. And that choice was to believe that they’d find another way. He decided that when it came right down to it, he couldn’t kill his child for making the same bargain for power and strength that he himself had made multiple times over the last 14 seasons.

He was also directly confronted with a similar situation to that from the end of season 6 and beginning of 7 with Cas and the Leviathans, in that when it really came down to it, he wasn’t capable of murdering someone he considered family.

And then Chuck had to go and erase any chance they had in following up on that. He killed Jack so that they didn’t have a chance to find a way to help Jack balance the power he’d absorbed from destroying Michael or living without his soul.

So yeah, from where we sit now with only one episode of season 15 under our belts waiting with baited breath to see where the rest of this end of the road season takes us, it makes sense that Dean, of all people, would be in the middle of an emotional fucking collapse. And that he would be a huge, whiny, pissbaby douchebag about it because that’s the Dean Winchester way.

Does that make his behavior okay? No, of course not. But does that turn any of the rest of them into saints? Nope, of course not. And I, personally, wouldn’t have it any other way. I like that they’re flawed and fucked up and keep getting back up and going back to each other and keep trying. That’s why we’ve had 15 goddamn seasons of this. Because it’s what they do.

[justjessame]

Dr. Tali Sullivan

The first time I met the Winchesters, I was far too young for them to make an impression. I was around two years old, and if I struggled and pressed my memory that far back, I could ALMOST make out the couple’s only son, Dean, keeping me occupied with my set of wooden blocks. Almost.

The second time I met the Winchesters, I was four. This time I do remember, because my dad was helping John, the father cope with his overwhelming grief at losing his wife. I heard the words I would be destined to hear over and over from the entirety of my life. ‘Demon’, ‘vengeance’, and of course ‘hunter’.

My mom and dad both came from prestigious hunting families. And I’m not talking about big game or seasonal hunters. No, Mom and Dad were hunters of a completely different sort. They hunted all the terrors that regular people would think were tall tales or ghost stories. I was their only child, and while they expected me to learn to defend myself against the forces of evil, they didn’t press me to take up their cause. Since their families were so important, I had plenty of aunts and uncles that could take up any slack my leaving the ‘family business’ could possibly cause. Then there were the latecomers to the cause, men like John Winchester who lost a loved one to the terrors and vowed to end them.

And so, after a few more visits from the Winchesters- when I was seven, Dean had teased me for being so boring with my nose in a book the entire time. At twelve, when Sam kept asking me to borrow one book or another, vowing to adhere to all my rules about their care. At sixteen, when John blinked at me wondering out loud how could I possibly have gotten so big. Memories of the three Winchesters were scarce, but memorable.

Now here I was, twenty nine and had finally achieved my goal. Dr. Tali Sullivan, Professor of Lore and the Occult, with a side of Ancient Dialects and Historical Significance. I was shocked, when in the second week of my second year of teaching, I looked up and saw the eldest Winchester man looking down from a top row seat. I nearly lost my place in the lecture. Nearly, but not quite. I swallowed my reaction and went back to explaining how, even within various different cultures and countries, the myths shared and circulated, all seemed to have a single thread back to one story. And that one story, branching out and circling the globe, would mean what?

“Your assignment, which is laid out in your syllabus, is to explain how that one thread untangling and branching out, would do what?” I smiled at the faces that proved they’d all been listening, almost hearing the gears churning in their heads. “Impress me, prove you’ve done not only the reading, but the deductive reasoning. Now go enjoy the long weekend!” I dismissed the class and walked to the desk provided beside my lectern. I was shuffling my notes and speaking to a few students when John approached.

“Wow, Tali,” he breathed, looking me over in my comfy and casual clothes. Skinny jeans, dark band t-shirt, and a loose button down with a pair of knee high boots. My dark red hair piled up on my head in a loose knot, with my much needed glasses covering my strangely light green eyes.

Since he was openly assessing my appearance, I felt free to do the same. John was aging like a fine wine. Salt and pepper hair, rugged scruff hiding a jaw that I knew from the years was this side of chiseled. His hazel eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement, that damn dimple deep in his cheek. And flannel covered henley paired with well worn jeans and a pair of lived in boots. Damn, when did John become so fucking sexy?

“John,” I answered, leaning back in my desk chair. “What brings you around for a visit?” I was smiling, but I had to wonder.

He leaned his hip on the side of my desk. “I’m having some issues with a case, it’s not far away, and I called your dad. He mentioned you wrote your thesis on what I think I’m after-”

“I wrote my thesis on the Barghest,” I said, staring at him. “What would be hard to understand about a huge ass dog who eats people in the dark?” I was testing him, of course, making sure he was certain that was what his case entailed.

“I think we both know there’s more to them than that.” He sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. His wedding ring flashed in the overhead light and I lost the rush of lust had felt when I first saw him. “This thing, it’s searching out a particular type of victim, and it’s attacking-”

“Acts as an death omen first, marking the victim, daring it’s victim to come out and play, and when they do.” I made a chewing motion with my mouth. “The fun things left out of Harry Potter.” I sighed, and closed my eyes, blocking John from my sight. “What do you need to know? Or better yet, what did Dad say I could offer?”

I heard him chuckle. “For one, is there a way to stop it, without being given the omen of death?” I nodded, and he went on. “What is it? And your dad said you are a font of information on all kinds of rare shit, darlin’.”

I rolled my closed eyes. “You stop it by hunting it without actually crossing its path.” I heard him writing my words down, so apparently he had a journal with him. Good student. “Don’t cross its path by getting behind it, of course. Killing it? That’s a little more difficult. Here’s the ingredients, and how to put it together, don’t fuck it up, John. I’d hate for the boys to end up without you.” I rattled off the weapon and the ingredients that it had to be soaked in, the order, the time frame. “So take that, get behind it, and aim for the back of the neck. Not the heart, not the head, the back of the neck.” I opened my eyes to him watching me. “What?”

He shook his head, but when he spoke his voice was deeper and huskier. If I didn’t know any better- “Nothin’.” He put the tattered journal in a pocket of his jacket that I hadn’t noticed before, that was laying on the top of my desk. “What do I owe you for the information, Tali?” I smiled. “Free of charge. It’s something I can give even if I turned my back on the ‘family business’.” I leaned forward to finish packing my notes away in my leather messenger back. “Be safe, John.” I was dismissing him, just like I did my students.

“Let me take you out to dinner.” His offer startled me. “Least I could do, and I do have to soak the weapon at least overnight.” He stood silent, waiting for my answer.

And a stalemate ensued. I contemplated all the reasons I could give to not accept. How could I explain that dinner would be a terrible idea, since apparently he was sex on a stick and still hooked on his dead wife, or remarried for all I knew? “I think that’s a bad idea.” I said instead, the pregnant pause finally killing me. “Papers to grade.” Netflix to watch, food to nuke I included silently.

“Thought you said there’s a long weekend?” He replied, raising his eyebrow in challenge.

Well, fuck, Tali. He actually paid attention to the end of class. Shit. “Yeah, it is, but I have other classes, other papers. Can’t get behind, you know.”

He chuckled. “Still gotta eat, right?” I shrugged. “So eat with me. I promise to get you home as quickly as possible.” He put his left hand over his heart in pledge, and that ring flashed again.

I swallowed. It was dinner. Nothing more. And I was a grown ass woman, with a fucking PhD after all. It wasn’t like he was flirting. He just wanted to have company for dinner. “Sure.” I answered, pushing the last of my notes in my bag. I scribbled my cell number on a Post-It note and handed it to him. “Call me when you’ve gotten the weapon ready for its marinade, I’ll give you my address then.” I stood and yanked my bag across my body. “See you later, John.” I tossed my parting over my shoulder, hoping I wouldn’t regret agreeing.

 HOURS LATER~ COMING HOME FROM DINNER

We were both laughing. I had told John about a really strange spell a witch had cast on my parents when I was a teenager, and while mortified at the time, found it funnier later on.

“So I walk into my house after school, and there they are, tearing their clothes off on our dining room table.” I closed my eyes and tried to calm my giggles to finish. “Like fucking teenagers, horny, gross parent aged teenagers.” His laughter was contagious. “I couldn’t eat in the dining room until I came back last Thanksgiving.” I gave a dramatic shudder.

John was walking me to the door of my house, and his chuckles were more free than they’d been when we first saw one another in my class. His hand rested on the small of my back, like a gentleman seeing a lady home. “God, I’m gonna have to riff him about that the next time I see him.” We reached my door and I pulled my keys free from my pocket. “Guess I should-”

I shook my head as I opened the door. “By my estimation that blade needs another twelve hours to soak.” I said, squinting in remembrance of the instruction I gave him. “Come in and have a cup of something-” He chuckled again, “I don’t drink coffee, but I have some instant, just in case.” I shrugged, and he nodded his agreement.

Over the threshold, I moved further into the house, listening as John shut and locked my door. I made my way to the kitchen, yelling back for him to make himself at home. I tossed my jacket and keys on the counter in the kitchen and made peace with John checking over the house. He’s a hunter, so I knew he was looking around with curiosity. He’d be checking entrances, exits, and probably just looking around to see what kind of research material I had on hand. I made a cup of instant coffee, heating the water in the microwave as I grabbed a glass and filled it with ice for a glass of soda.

When I walked out to the living room, John was sitting on the sofa. He’d tossed his jacket onto the wingback chair, and he looked comfortable. It was almost unnerving how comfortable he looked in my space. “I hope I made this right,” I offered him the coffee cup and sat down with my feet tucked under me on the other side of the sofa. Taking a sip of my soda, I sat it down on the coffee table and sat back. “Why aren’t Dean and Sam with you?” I asked, burning with interest since I saw him all alone in my classroom, but waiting until we were in a more private setting than the college or dinner afforded.

John took an appreciative sip of his own drink. “Not bad, Tali.” He mirrored my move and sat his own cup on the table in front of us and looked over at me. “Dean’s on his own hunt, with Bobby. Sam, well Sam’s away at Stanford.” I raised an eyebrow, surprised not by Sam’s aspirations, but because John entertained them. “It wasn’t pretty when he asked to go, not by a long shot, but I guess seeing you, here, outside of the business makes it more understandable.”

I nodded and asked the next obvious question. “What’s he studying?” I sank into the cushions of my sofa and studied him as he answered.

“Law,” he chuckled. “Might come in handy, especially where Dean’s concerned.”

I gave my own muffled laugh. “Guessing Dean hasn’t gotten his crap together yet?” I reached for my soda and felt John’s eyes on my every movement. Taking another sip, I chose to keep the glass in my hands. “I got lucky, I guess. Studying lore and history, that made it simple to move on from the family business, but still be able to help.” I sighed, and leaned back. “Keeps me from feeling too guilty for taking my parents up on the offer to choose myself over the greater good.”

John’s gaze hadn’t left me. “You shouldn’t feel guilty at all. Even if you’d chosen some other path.” He offered his own sigh and reached for his coffee cup. “The longer I do this, the more I realize that I’ve been an asshole for making the boys follow me.”

I scoffed. “Dean idolizes you, John. He has since the first time I can remember your visits fully.” I thought back to the golden haired boy and how his green eyes were always watching his Dad, mimicking his posture, his gestures. “In fact, I bet I could tell you what he’s wearing just by what you are.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Paid a lot of attention to my boy, did you?” I bit my lip and laughed at his expression.

“We’re the same age,” I shrugged. “Since you and Mom and Dad insisted that we socialize, it was hard NOT to pay attention to Dean.” I thought back to Dean’s not so subtle attempt, when I was sixteen, to try to get in my panties. “He was a bit much, if you know what I mean?”

It was his turn to laugh. “That’s Dean, alright.” He glanced over at me as he took another drink of coffee. “So did you two-”

I nearly spit out the drink I had just taken of my soda. Coughing, and trying to swallow around the shock of that implied thought, I took a moment to calm my shock. “NO.” I answered, loud enough that he knew how wrong the very idea of Dean and me was. “We didn’t have ANYTHING, John.”

His laughter shook my end of the sofa. I glared over at him, daring him to make me choke on the sip I was taking. “Sorry, honey, it’s just your face when I asked. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen a girl your age act like Dean was the plague.”

Girl my age? I snorted, having swallowed my drink. “Girl?” I raised an eyebrow at the older man. “I’m nearly thirty. Then again, a man YOUR age, isn’t that when the memory goes?”

It was his turn to choke on his drink. He sputtered and I giggled, watching him glare at me. “You insinuating that I’m old, little girl?” The tone he was using was dangerously low, but instead of frightening me, I felt a twist of lust building.

I shrugged. “You’re insisting I’m a little girl, aren’t you?” I smirked at him as he put his cup carefully on the coffee table.

“I might have to prove just how good my memory is,” he took my glass from me and sat it carefully down too. “Like,” he moved closer so I could feel the heat from his body. “The last time I saw you, you’d just turned sixteen. You came down the stairs wearing that little sundress with cherry blossoms all over it.” He leaned in, his nose sliding along my jaw. “And your perfume smelled like vanilla and cherry mixed together.” I felt his lips ghosting over my neck, not touching, not yet. “I remember that scent, because you hugged me and told me how happy you were to see me again. Not Dean, not Sam, but me.” His lips brushed against my pulse. “I knew at that moment, you’d be the ruin of me, Tali.”

I turned, and his lips found mine. I moaned into his kiss, feeling like I was on fire. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me from my seat and over onto his lap. Straddling him, I let my fingers slide through his hair. The stubble on his face was gloriously rough and burning against my skin. One of his hands gripped my waist the other pressed into my back, pressing me tight against his chest. My hips rocked against him, feeling his arousal grow.

Breaking the kiss, our faces inches apart, breath mingling, I could see how dark his eyes were. His chuckle rocked through me, and I smiled. “My ruin,” he muttered, standing up with me locked in his arms. Before I could point in the direction of my bedroom, he’d pressed me against the nearest bare wall. My legs wrapped around his hips as his lips found my neck. His body was hard against mine, and I moaned as he nipped the curve where my neck met my shoulder. “Fuck, Tali, we’re not even naked and I swear you feel like fire.” I rocked into his hardness and he groaned.

“It’s not that I,” I had to stop when he sucked at my pulsepoint to gather my wits to continue my thought. “Not that I don’t love how this feels.” Another roll of my hips and he growled into my skin again. “But my bed is right there.” I tilted my head toward the hallway next to us. I felt the curve of his lips against my flushed skin.

“I’ve held back for so fuckin’ long, baby girl,” his mouth was hot against the skin he could taste. His hips thrust into my covered need. “If you insist on a bed, though,” he sighed, “then my princess gets what she wants.” He carried me down the hallway and through the open door of my bedroom.

My fingers reached out and flicked on the lightswitch that controlled my side table lamps. Soft light filled the room as John’s mouth claimed mine again. I felt him lower me to my feet, but then it was a rush of clothes falling, mouths, tongues, and teeth tasting and kissing exposed skin. Fingers brushing against skin, mine teasing the muscles roped through his body, his the softness of my curves.

My eyes drunk him in as he lowered me onto my bed. He was gorgeous, sexy and being far more sensual than the wall fuck he’d been going for earlier. As his lips met my breast, I gasped and arched upward toward his mouth. His tongue flicked against my nipple and my fingers gripped his head. “You taste so fucking good, darlin’.” His breath fanned against my skin, and I felt a tightening in my stomach. “God, there’s so much I want with you. So much I want to do-”

I pulled his hair, drawing him up so he was hovering over me, face to face. “Kiss me, John.” And he did as my legs wrapped around his hips and forced him to lower further into me. “I can’t wait. Don’t make me wait,” I pleaded, and he took the demand in stride. He nodded, his forehead against mine. “Later, then,” he promised, himself and me. Then his hips lurched against me, our bodies joining FINALLY as though I were made for him. “Oh, Tali,” he moaned as I rolled my hips against him. “That feels-” And then words stopped, everything stopped except for him and me. Our bodies took over. Clutching one another, as though there shouldn’t even be air between us. His thrusts, my rocking hips, sweat and moans. Everything crashing over us all at once. Not overwhelming, not splintering our focus, just keeping us going and going.

It could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours, but we both felt the climb begin. The feeling that started when he whispered his memory of me, the feeling of our lips touching for the first time, the feeling of everything coming together exactly how it was supposed to. And then fire and stars and explosions. I’d always thought that was ridiculous writers imagining what sex and love were, but then I had it. And all I could think, as we held each other in the aftermath was how much I wanted it over and over.

We had the entire night, and John and I made sure we took advantage of the hours. We tasted one another, dipping back to foreplay once we’d recovered from our first round, then more and more and more. We finally fell exhausted in a tangle of limbs and kisses mere hours before dawn.

I didn’t expect him to be beside me when I woke. He had a job to do, after all, but I was surprised by the note. The promise of his return after the hunt. And when he followed through I nearly exploded by the mere sight of him at the front door. We had the entire weekend. Two full days, and three explosive nights before he had to go. This time I saw him off, kissed him goodbye and had another promise from him. That he’d be back. He had to, he swore, because having the nights we’d stolen weren’t enough. For him or for me.

 Months passed. He’d text or call. And then nothing. No texts, no calls. His voicemail, when I bothered to call, advised to contact Dean if there was a problem. I didn’t worry. I understood how hunters lived. I knew that they lived hard and on the go. I knew that he’d come back, call again, text again when he could.

I was in my classroom giving another lecture when I looked up and saw Dean sitting with Sam in almost the exact same place their father had sat. My heart clenched. They wouldn’t be here, Sam wouldn’t be here if it were good news. I managed, through sheer force of will and the fact that my lectures were practically memorized by now, to finish the class. I barely noticed the other students file out, I had eyes only on the two Winchesters.

“Tali,” Sam greeted me, smiling the same awkward smile I remembered from our youth. “You look right at home at that lectern.” Dean's eyes were burning into me. “Have you heard from Dad?” That was Dean, not an ounce of tact in his entire body.

“Not for a couple of months,” I answered, smiling and moving back to my desk. Feelings of deja vu washed over me as I pulled my notes into a tidy pile. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair, so reminiscent of his dad. “He’s missing in action, Tal.” He looked down at me. “We found the last hotel room he was staying in and you were mentioned in his journal.”

Ah, yeah, the work I helped him with. “Yeah, he came to me about a Barghest. I helped him with the right weapon and the right place to shove it in to kill it.” Shrugging, hoping that was all that John put in his journal, I glanced at Dean.

“He mentioned that, and also,” he pulled the battered journal I’d watched John tuck into his jacket in this very room. I saw a sticky note with my phone number on it in my writing. “Her eyes are still so light that they look straight through me, and those lips-”

I stopped them with a raised hand and felt my face blush. “Yeah, about that.” I swallowed hard and looked up to two far too interested Winchesters. “Look, John and I, we had a-” World changing connection that I hoped would turn into something, but he’s a hunter and I’m a professor. We settled for a weekend of passion and love, and now he’s gone? Yeah, try harder. “We made the most of a long weekend.” That damn blush was so hot I felt like I was on fire. “I haven’t heard from him in a month or so.”

Dean was looking at me like I’d grown fangs, or another head. “Our DAD?” He also looked a tad green around his gills. “You and Dad?” He tried to wrap his head around it, but shook it off. “And he stayed in touch?”

“Yeah, we’d text and call almost daily.” I said, putting my papers away, feeling my shame die out. What the hell? I loved John, there wasn’t anything wrong with that. “Unless he was in the middle of a hunt. That was the last text I got, actually.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up my messages. Clicking on John’s number I pulled it up. Handing it over to Sam, I finished gathering my stuff together.

Sam read the last message, respecting my privacy, but Dean took a turn and I saw a swipe. “Hey!” I admonished. “You never swipe another person’s phone,” I yanked it from his hand, and put it back in my pocket. “The last message was the only one you needed to see.”

Dean was licking his lips, fuck, I knew exacty which text he saw. “Well, we need to be thorough. Dad’s missing after all.”

I glared up at him. “Sure.” I brushed past them, and shook my head again. “Well, now what you’ve been THOROUGH, you know I don’t know where he is.” I waved a hand to show them I was finished with the conversation.

Of course they weren’t. I’d barely gotten comfortable at home when I heard the knock. Fuck. Opening the door, there they stood. “What now?” I asked, exasperated. “You saw what you saw. I don’t know anything else.”

Dean pushed past me into the house, Sam waited to be invited. Rolling my eyes I gestured for him to come in too. We stood awkwardly in my entryway. I waited for one of them to break the silence. Sam was the first.

“Look, Tali, we get that you don’t think you know anything, but you might.” He was trying to calm my irritation down. Irritation and worry. Worry that John was hurt or worse. “Can we sit?”

I nodded and walked them into my living room. I took the chair and they sat on the sofa. A sofa that months ago John and I had started on. Shaking the image away, I considered all the talks and texts we’d shared. Nothing strange or concerning came to mind. “I’m sorry, John and I, we were talking normal hunting research, when we discussed it.” I refused to blush again. “He mentioned only that he might be out of touch for a while, but not where he was going. And then when I felt that too much time had passed, I tried to call, but-”

“You were told to call me,” Dean finished. “Why didn’t you?” He sounded almost accusatory.

“Because,” I sighed. “I figured that maybe John started to regret it. Us. Me.” I looked up and saw that he was uncomfortable. “If there’s one thing I’m not, Dean, it’s a clingy ex.”

“You said you talked about normal hunting research,” Sam picked up the conversation. “Do you remember what cases?”

I nodded and went to the desk in the corner of the room. “I keep records of all of those types of things. I help a lot of hunters with the more obscure demons and do bads.” I grabbed my planner. Flipping back to the first day we’d met at the college, I handed it over to Sam. “It starts there,” I used my finger to point out the shorthand I used for John, “and if you flip through it, you’ll see when and where he called from, and what hunt he’d discussed.” I sat back down as they flipped through it. “Not every contact is in there, since not all of them were work related.”

Sam nodded, but Dean’s mood seemed to grow worse. “Do you have a calendar to keep track of those too?” He snarked. I glared at him and shook my head. “Isn’t that disappointing.”

I snorted at his demeanor. “It wouldn’t help you find him. They overlapped. Usually it was a call before he got the next case, and a call after to make sure I knew he was safe.” I raised an eyebrow to match the one he had, daring him to make another comment. “Can I keep this?” Sam asked, drawing my attention back to him. “Or copy it?”

“You can copy it, but I have to keep it. John isn’t the only hunter that I help with research. That’s the record I use to keep track of it.” He nodded. “If you follow me back to campus, I can get you one, or if you want me to, I guess I could scan it here and give you those copies?”

“Email it,” Sam offered, and I took the planner back and moved back to my desk to start. I hadn’t realized he’d followed me until I felt him sit in my chair. “Was he happy?” His voice was quiet, and I knew that Dean was still on the sofa.

“Yeah, he was.” I smiled, remembering how playful John had been when I’d said goodbye on my porch. “He was also coming to terms with your future, though it would seem that’s on hold now?”

He swallowed and I finally realized how tired he looked. “Something like that.” He glanced up at me and I saw such pain. “I just really need to find him, Tali. We both do.”

“I hope this helps then,” I said, as the last page scanned. “Here,” I unlocked my desktop and opened my email. “Just type in your email, and the pages are there,” I pointed at the icon. I turned back to see that Dean was still watching us, me. I sighed. Then I went back to the chair I’d taken when we got to the room. “What happened to him?” I asked, almost whispering, and gesturing with my head at Sam.

“The same thing that happened to Mom.” He barely moved his lips and I closed my eyes. “I don’t understand you and Dad, but we have to find him, Tali.”

I nodded. “You’ll have the pages, and I’ll make some calls.” I offered, knowing that the Winchesters would always be surrounded by pain and death. I just hoped that John wasn’t a fatality already. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything.”

Sam was back and they finally left after I assured them one more time that I’d try to learn something for them. My back was pressed to the closed front door as I listened to them walk down the steps. I felt the tears that I had been feeling build since I saw the two of them at the top of my classroom finally break free. Sobbing, I had to hope that John was alright, that he would be found. That he’d come back to me.

[poorreputation]

SPN 1X01 Pilot Retrospective Meta

Tag list for old episodes meta! (let me know if you wanna be tagged):

@emblue-sparks @metafest @verobatto-angelxhunter @evvvissticante @dea-stiel @sudo-apt-get-destiel @wildligia (tumbler’s not letting me tag you, sorry)

Pre re-watch notes/things to touch on:

Comparing the Woman in White to John, Sam and Mary/hindsight notes.

S1 motivations vs. S14/15 endgame.

Episode Notes:

Written by: Eric Kripke

Directed by: David Nutter

A long post, so I will put it behind the cut.

Lawrence, Kansas

22 years ago

We begin our tale with Mary bringing Dean into Sam's nursery to say goodnight. John enters the room, and in a nice bit of short-hand, he's wearing a USMC (United States Marine Corps) shirt, showing John was a soldier.

There's a shot of Mary and John in a picture. We already know they're married, so why is it here?

Mary thinks it's John in the nursery, only to find him asleep in the living room in front of the TV. (again, a connection to John's past, he's fallen asleep watching a war movie)

Something that'll become a continuity issue, later in the show: Mary's many years of experience being a Hunter, only to not recognize the flickering of lights as a sign of trouble.

Of course, Mary's wearing a white gown, (white is usually seen as a pure color/ of purity, but in this instance a connection to the Woman in White/see Jess later)

Mary's dead, and everyone involved is scarred for life.

The look on John's face, as we finish the Lawrence sequence, is that of a broken man, who's seen something that will eat away at his mind.

Stanford University Present Day (2005)

Okay, the first image we see of Jess is her in a nurse's costume, white with red trimming. Jess also has medium length curly blond hair. Guys, she looks like Mary, especially in Mary's death scene (white gown, covered in blood). 

We focus in on the picture of Mary and John for visual shorthand, confirming this is a grown-up Sam.

We establish Sam is "scary" smart, has aspirations of becoming a lawyer, and has a job interview on Monday.

Jess: "Knock 'em dead on Monday." laying it on thick, Kripke.

Sam: "What would I do without you?"

Jess: "Crash and burn."

*smooch*

Damn you, Kripke.

Night scene, and holy shit, why do Sam and Jess have so many plants? Why doesn't future Sam have plants in the bunker, you know, something low maintenance?

Dean, why the fuck can't you use the door? Or a phone?

From the get-go, Dean's cocky, suffers from eldest sibling syndrome, and is a shameless horn-dog.

Sam: "He's on a Miller time shift." See, when I first watched the pilot, years ago, I didn't realize this was Sam implying John was a drunk. These things would just fly over my head.

Sam wants to make a point of including Jess in the conversation, of being honest. And yet, the moment Dean says John is on a hunt and hasn't returned, that honesty goes right out the window. More on that later.

Sam and Dean's exposition dump in the hallway, a part of me feels it's an odd way to catch the audience up to speed, while the other part of me knows this is how families argue when they spend most of their time biting their tongues. Sam especially seems the type to mull over his thoughts, storing away comebacks for the perfect moment when they'll be most effective (like later in the episode). Also, it's been years since the brothers have seen each other (we're told later it's been at least 2 years since Dean bothered Sam), they're so icy towards one another.

Sam: "You think Mom would've wanted this for us?" we'd find this out later in S4, but, no. Funny enough, maybe if Mary shared her knowledge of Hunting, something more could've been done (foreshadowing).

Dean: "What're you gonna do? Just live some normal, apple pie life?" Dean, if you'd only taken your own advice, we could've avoided S6.

Sam, paraphrasing John: "If you're gonna go, stay gone." Well, that's only very emotionally manipulative.It does, however, remind me of the U.S. military’s views on those dishonorably discharged, and since John raised them as "warriors", it's not a stretch to think, in a time of crisis, John treated his sons as soldiers.

Dean: "I can't do this alone."

Sam: "Yes, you can."

Dean: "Yeah, well, I don't want to."

This exchange, this vulnerability from Dean, after his initial introduction of being a cocky asshole who hits on his brother's girlfriend, shows just how much of a facade Dean's attitude is. In the end, he's a kid scared of losing his Dad.

It's this vulnerability that convinces Sam to listen.

Come the fuck on, "I can never go home." after we establish Sam left John and Dean, left Hunting behind, and was told to never come back (home). KRIPKE. YOU'RE *not* SUBTLE.

2 years, Dean says, since they last talked. Either Sam entered college late, (20 rather than 18) or Sam and Dean kept in touch even after Sam and John's blow-out fight.

Again, Jess pries for more info, and Sam changes the subject. Nope, that’s not gonna bite him in the ass, at all.

Jericho, California

(insert biblical/wrestling reference here)

We meet monster fodder, I mean, some random dude, who tells his girlfriend Amy over the phone he can't see her that night. He slows down to a stop and picks up the Woman in White.

Anyway, another example of a young woman with curly, medium length hair in a white gown/dress. I mean, her house even looks a bit like John and Mary's old place.

We get a brief, blurry shot of the Woman in White and her kids. Sorry, but if you're familiar with the legend of her/La Llorona, it's easy to see where this is going.

Oh, and whatshisface is dead.

Chips and soda. Breakfast of champions.

Sam's being a real sassy bitch about how Dean and John get their funds. I get it, world-building for the audience, bit it shows just how passive aggressive Sam is in these early seasons; Dean's clearly playing moderator between Sam and an absent John.

Sam: "Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metalica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock." Sam, it's not Dean's fault you have poor taste. Shut your cakehole.

Sam: "Sammy's a chubby 12 year old." or, it's what a big brother says to his infant sibling to calm him down, oh wait.

Monster bait's name is Troy. Yeah, I don't care.

Dean sassing the officer and Sam stomping Dean's foot. Yep, they're brothers. This interaction is where their chemistry really starts to shine through.

Amy and her friend are peak mid-2000's goths/emos, good lord.

Dean's "I told you so" smart-ass look as the friend shares the rumors in town, he's such an older sibling.

They... they never tell Amy what happened to her asshole boyfriend, huh? Well. Sucks for Amy.

Researching on a public library computer, fucking hell. (nothing wrong with that, I’ve worked in a public library, but they’re doing super-secret Hunter’s stuff in such a public place)

Have it paused on a photo of Constance Welch, the Woman in White, and the article mentions her husband's exact line of work; associate manager who works the graveyard shift at Frontier auto salvage. Gives me shades of Bobby, who also lost his wife under tragic circumstances.

A mother leaves her child unattended, comes back to check on them, tragedy strikes. Or, so the story goes.

Dean confronts Sam about living a life of willful ignorance, and even asks if Jess knows the truth. Sam makes it clear she doesn't and he intends it to stay that way, as Dean sarcastically quips, "That's healthy".

Really, the more I think about it, the more S6 feels like the inverse of S1; Dean tries to live a normal life, Sam comes stomping in to rain on his parade. Lisa is kept largely in the dark about Dean's past, and gets hurt because of it.

Dean: "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're gonna have to face up to who you are."

Sam: "And who's that?"

Dean: "One of us."

Sam: "No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

Sam thinks Dean's just talking about Hunting, but Dean means more than that, he means family. One of us, Dad and me, a Hunter and a Winchester.

Sam: "Mom's not coming back." and so on about how he doesn’t even remember Mary, doesn’t share John’s obsession. 

Dean: "No chick flick moments." Dean, dude, bro, you're the one who started this by breaking into Sam's place like a dramatic bitch, and then proceeded to give life/relationship advice. It's already a chick flick.

John's room being covered head-to-toe in case notes, only to come to the obvious conclusion it's the Woman in White. But, Sam said, because of the salt line, John was worried. Now, as far as I can remember, John was never a target of this spirit, so, I think he was paranoid about Yellow Eyes. After all, John had notes on devils/demons up, too, so maybe. I could be wrong.

There's something amusing about Sam and Dean's first duo Hunt, one without John, includes one of them getting arrested. Just, how rare that happens in the rest of the show, compared to how many laws they break daily.

Sam talks to Joseph Welch, who seems to wear the same clothes as Bobby. Also, Sam looks like a giant standing next to him.

Joseph lies to Sam's face about his and Constance's marriage, and it takes Sam a moment to work up the nerve to call him out on it. Or, it's Sam losing his temper. They're dealing with a murderous ghost, after all, and this guy wants to hide the truth.

Sam's done with lying witnesses, and now he's making fake calls to the cops. Gloves are OFF.

So, it's revealed John's purposefully leaving Sam and Dean clues, the journal, and the coordinates, but won't outright tell the truth.

Sam: "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been." See, Sam, that's only in the cheating department. You are, however, keeping Jess in the dark about dangerous stuff. Can any relationship with such big lies every be a faithful one?

Again, the imagery of the flickering lights. A standard in the show later for when a ghost's around, but considering all the visual parallels between the Woman in White and Mary, I think it's intentional.

That CGI of the ghosts vanishing was kinda shit, though. So is the sound of water swirling down a drain, I'm now just thinking of a toilet.

Dean: "I'll take you home." and there, in an episode where the ghost is afraid to go home and face the consequences of their actions, Sam too must go back to Jess.

Sam discovering Jess' body on the ceiling, as the room's engulfed in flames, never fails to give me chills. Hot damn.

Post Episode Notes:

While the pilot is a treasure trove of world building, plotting of character arcs, and chemistry between Jared and Jensen, it still doesn't make up for the fact it's bookended with 2 women getting fridged. Mary and Jess don't get to be characters, only fuel for man-pain, and argue with me all you want, but Mary's send-off in S14 is far superior to what she got in the pilot.

I remember seeing Kripke discuss how many drafts they went through while writing the pilot, and it feels like that at quite a few points. Like maybe the sheriff was to get more time, or Troy's father, who I believe is a cop, would've been more vital to the plot. And Amy, who'll spend who knows how many weeks and months putting up missing person posters for Troy.

I believe Kripke also said they'd considered killing John at the end, rather than Jess. I think, and this is pure speculation, the more they went into the lore for the Woman in White, the more they knew Jess had to die. I don't like it, wish they could've done it different, but it fits the story they wanted to tell.

The Woman in White, John, Mary and Sam, in hindsight

It's a retcon from S4, but if Mary was honest with John about her past as a Hunter, maybe they'd have a better chance with fighting Azazel. It's tragically paralleled to Sam not telling Jess about his own past, which may have prevented her death. And while you could say Heaven and Hell would still have their way, and shape Sam and Dean the way they want to, I'd like to think, given the chance, free will could prevail, And, look at how often keeping secrets is framed as one of the worst things the characters could do to each other?

Additionally, if John had been honest with Sam and Dean about what he wanted them to do, and what kind of danger they were really in, maybe Sam wouldn't have left Jess alone.

Thank you for reading this monstrosity of a meta, I hope you enjoyed/found it interesting!

[platonic-plots]

Abandon all hope.

Request/Summary: [supernatural s5e10 spoilers] “ok so this is sad but could you possibly do an imagine based on jos death but instead of jo its the winchesters sister? make it fluffy and sad so i can get all the feels :))) :(((”

Pairings: sister!reader x sam, sister!winchester x dean

Words: 1595

Warnings: swearing, character death

Specific time/Important info: i’ve obviously had to change some things/details/dialogue/etc. e.g. there’s no Ellen 

Your heart pounded as you sprinted away from the hellhounds that followed you, their growls and barks filling your ears and consuming your mind. You could hear them getting closer and closer until-

“DEAN!” you screamed, seeing your brother on the ground. 

“Y/n, stay back!” You ignored his request as you aimed your gun as the invisible beings around him. You weren’t prepared to lose someone today. You continued to shoot, satisfied by the whimpering you could here coming from the hound as it fell back into the garbage can behind it as you stepped closer, determined to kill it. You were so engulfed in saving your brother that you didn’t hear the other hellhound as it crept up on you – when you finally heard its snarls, it was too late. 

You heard Sam yell out in shock as you were forced down and a set of razor-sharp claws pierced your skin before dragging themselves down your torso. You screamed in agony, your vision blurred and your mind felt like shutting down. You struggled to piece any of your thoughts together as the searing pain overtook your entire body, not letting your brain focus on anything else. The sound of gunfire was barely noticeable; you didn’t even realise that Dean had picked you up to bring you to safety until his arm brushed against the open wound, resulting in another scream erupting from your lungs and tears pricking in your eyes. It really fucking hurt. 

With every step, the pain grew worse and you clawed at your brother’s arm for some sort of relief. Sam and Dean shot into the nearest building – a hardware store – as if the hounds’ damage hadn’t already been done. Dean placed you down on the floor against the counter as gently as he could, doing his best to comfort you as Sam tried to barricade the door.

“Hang on, Y/n, just breathe, okay?” Dean knew the magnitude of the situation, he just didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to admit that his baby sister was dying because she tried to save him. He didn’t want to admit that his worst nightmare was about to become a reality. “Sammy, I need some help over here!”After he’s salted the windows and doors, he rushed over to be at your side, and his heartbroken expression told you everything you needed to know. You were going to die, and this time they couldn’t help you. Your breaths were shallow and even the slightest movements caused you to wince in pain. The blood poured from you wound and you couldn’t help the whimpers and grunts that emerged from you as Sam bandaged you up whilst Dean held you, trying to provide any sense of comfort. They looked at each other with faces full of pure worry, sadness and fear – it was clear what was going to happen, but you all acted as if not saying it out loud would somehow stop it from occurring. 

“Your gonna be alright, Y/n/n, you’re gonna be alright,” the younger of the two whispered to you with your head pressed against his chest. He had remained next to you whilst your other brother had fixed up the radio to try and contact Bobby. Although Sam tried to distract you, you could still hear pieces of the conversation shared between Dean and Bobby.

The voice was muffled but you could hear the machine spouting something about figuring out what to do next. Dean paused momentarily, thinking of how to word his response: “Bobby, I don’t think she’s…” he trailed off, scared he’d start crying if he continued. Bobby pressed him further. You swear you saw your brother wipe a tear before toughening up. After that, you stopped eavesdropping and instead savoured what would be some of your last moments with Sam. You listened to his lies about how you were ‘gonna be okay’ with a hint of a smile on your lips – even when you were, quite literally, on death’s door, he didn’t want you to worry or panic. You were going to miss him more than he would ever know.

Dean finished his conversation and returned to you and Sam before explaining what he’d learnt. “So now we know where the devil’s gonna be, we know when, and we have the Colt.”

“Yeah, we just have to get past eight or so hellhounds and get to the farm by midnight.”

“And that’s after we get Y/n the hell out of town.” He looked down at you, sympathy rich in his eyes. “Maybe with a stretcher?” Sam nodded, and Dean turned to see what in the store he could use.

“Stop.” Your voice was stronger than any of you expected, “can- can we be realistic about this, please?” Their eyebrows furrowed. You hissed in pain, and continued: “I can’t move my legs. I can’t be moved. My guts are being held in by a fucking Ace bandage. We need to get our priorities straight.” You paused, suppressing another episode of crying whilst your brothers looked at each other in a way that was becoming all too familiar. “Number one, I’m not going anywhere-“

“Y/n Y/m/n, stop talking like that,” Sam’s voice caught at the end as you interrupted him.

“Sammy,” your head shook slightly, “I can’t fight. I can’t walk. But I can do something. We’ve got propane, wiring, rock salt, iron nails, everything we need.” Tears threatened to fall and your voice became unsteady as you planned your own death.

“Everything we need?”

“To build a bomb, Sam.”

Dean snapped his head up: “No. Y/n, no.”

“Y-you got another plan?” You knew this was the only way. You knew that if you were going to die, you were going to help your brothers in the process whether they liked it or not. Dean opened his mouth, but no words came out. “You got any other plan? Those are hellhounds out there, they’ve got all of our scents. They will never stop coming after you.” Silence. “The doors won’t hold for much longer anyway. The dogs will come in, you two will hit the roof a-and make a break for the building next over. I’ll wait here with my finger on the button, rip those mutts a new one,” you smiled, “or at least get you a few minutes head start anyway.

Sam opposed your decision, “No, you’re our baby sister, Y/n. We’re supposed to protect you, I won’t let you do it.”

“This is why we’re here, right?” Sam shook his head – the pain in his eyes bore into your soul to the point where you couldn’t stand to look at his face any longer. Your heart was breaking into a million pieces and you could feel every single crack. “If I can get us a shot on the devil…” You looked at your other brother, knowing that even though it crushed his soul, he was going to be more reasonable about it. “Dean, we have to take it.”

“N-no, that’s not-“

“Sam,” you grabbed his hand, albeit weakly, and let your voice wobble as you cried, “this might literally be your last chance to treat me like and adult. You might wanna take it.” You nodded at your brother as he looked into your eyes, and you saw a glimpse of understanding. Your brothers knew what they had to do – either of them would’ve sacrificed themselves in a heartbeat had they been in your position.

“Get to work.”

Both your mental and physical state meant that you’d lost your grasp on time, and on what was happening around you. Slumped over, you struggled to stay awake through the pain as you waited for the bomb to be finished so you could finally… let go. It felt like days had passed before the action slowed down and you noticed their presence once again. Dean led the wires towards you whilst Sam held both of your hands in one of his and embraced you, trying to give you a final glimpse of comfort.

“I love you, Y/n, okay? I will never forget what your doing for us, baby. I am the proudest brother in the world, Y/n/n. Our lives will… they’ll never be the same, baby girl. It won’t be long until you see us again.” Sam’s smile was teary but his expression was abundant with pride and love.

You shook your head, the corners of you lips edging up despite the pain, “I-I hope not.”

“Okay, this is it,” Dean whispered as he showed you the switch. “I’ll see you on the other side, Y/n,” he mumbled, pressing the control into your hand. Gently, he reached out to hold your face as he kissed your forehead, and it took everything in your power to not let out a sob. You didn’t want to make this harder than it already was.

The doors shook, the hellhounds using more force with every passing minute.

“Go.”

“Y/n-“

“Please. Go.” You refused to look up at them, though you could hear them walk to the back of the store. “Dean,” your voice was quiet but still audible. “Don’t miss.”

Once they’d left the room, silent tears continuously flowed down your face as you stared at the doors across the room and watched as they grew weaker with every pounce from the merciless beasts on the other side. You gripped the switch tightly, ready to detonate the bomb as soon as you had to. Seconds later, barks filled your ears as the chains snapped and the doors swung open.

God I hope-

this request has been sitting in my inbox for literally years so i am genuinely sorry it’s took me this long to write/post (if the anon even still follows me lol)

forever tag list: @phonegalhelp @pointlesscasey @unicorn-sparkles123 @pinapplequeen16

supernatural tag list: @mersuperwholocked-lowlife

feel free to send any requests! and lmk if u wanna be added to my taglist(s) :)

[foreverwayward]

“Wayward Hearts” Season 1 Chapter 11: Salvation

Summary: As Sam and Dean begin the search for their father, a chance encounter with another hunter will change the roads ahead. Riley Munroe is a hunter, raised by her father after her mother tragically died when she was only six months old. Brought together by loss, grief, and the family business, Sam, Dean, and Riley join forces. They’ll find that their stories are intertwined and lean on each other as they search for answers and to avenge those they’ve lost. They’ll face evil, darkness, and hell itself…as a family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 9,350

Content Warning: language and violence

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

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

Sam, Riley, and Dean sat in a small café in Omaha, Nebraska. A recent hunt had brought them into town, but there were no leads for other possible cases. The three were itching to get back on the road. Not knowing where John or the demon were, had them on edge. If they weren’t working, they were left alone with their thoughts and they all desperately wanted to avoid that.

Dean worked through newspaper articles and Sam searched the web for anything that might catch his eye.

As Riley came back to the table she huffed as she sat. “I’m so bored,” she whined. “We’ve been sitting in this town with nothing to do for a week. Someone give me something to shoot already.”

“I know,” Dean agreed. He sighed in frustration as he folded up his newspaper. “I couldn’t find one decent lead in Nebraska. Sam, please tell me you found something before we all lose our minds.”

“Uh--” Sam started as he scrolled through articles. “Well, a man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home over in Colorado.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “Elkins. How do I know that name?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell for me.” Sam exhaled deeply. “Anyway, looks like the cops don’t know what to make of it. At first, they said it was some sort of bear attack, but now they say they’ve found signs of robbery.”

The oldest Winchester reached into his bag to pull out John’s hunting journal. He flipped through the pages as Riley waited to see what he’d find. Dean turned the notebook in their direction and pointed to a name. ‘D. Elkins”.

Riley looked over the page and saw a phone number beside the name. “That’s a Colorado area code. Wait, are you thinking it’s the same Elkins?”

“Only one way to find out.”

------

After a long day’s drive, the hunters found themselves on a snowy Colorado mountain. 

A small cabin sat alone among the trees. The light from the moon illuminated the blanket of white. Nothing but silence filled the mountain as more snow softly fell to the ground.

Dean picked the lock and the three stood in the doorway with flashlights. They split up and looked for anything to give them more information on the man who had died there only days before. 

The home had been trashed. Furniture was overturned, items laid broken on the floor, and papers had been scattered and thrown about.

Sam and Dean walked ahead as Finn sniffed near the door. 

Riley bent down to see what he had found and picked up white flecks into her hand. “Salt. It’s all right in front of the door.”

“Are we talking ‘protection-against-demons’ salt or ‘oops I spilled the popcorn’ salt?” The cabin was small, so even in the next room, Dean could engage in the conversation as he rifled through Elkins’ desk.

“Well, it’s definitely a ring.” With Riley at his side, Finn began to sniff more through the house. He had been trained to know when something smelled off or strange. It had helped on hunts when it was just the two of them.

“You guys think Elkins was a player?” Sam asked.

“Definitely. Hey, guys…” Dean called. “Come check this out.”

The others found their way to him. Dean had a notebook opened in front of him. The pages were filled with random notes, newspaper clippings, phone numbers, information on supernatural creatures, and more.

Sam scanned over the pages. “Looks a hell of a lot like Dad’s.”

“Yeah, except this dates back all the way to the ‘60s.”

Finn’s whining could be heard in another part of the cabin and the three followed the sounds. When they found him, he was in the doorway of an office space. 

That one room had seen the worst of the fray. The floors were cluttered with debris, glass, books, and other odds and ends. With almost nowhere clear to walk, the hunters trudged their way through it. 

The dog continued to whimper at all the smells he picked up on. Blood stains covered the wooden walls and had found their way to the floor. Sam, Dean, and Riley had found where Elkins spent his last moments in terror.

Glass crunched under their boots and Riley looked up. The sunroofs had been shattered through. “Well, whatever came for this guy--there was definitely more than one.” She shined her light across the room. “This dude put up a hell of a fight from the looks of it.”

As they continued to search the room, Dean found what looked like an old wooden gun case among the chaos. It was empty and the shells it once held were missing as well. 

He moved his light to the other side of him and stumbled on what looked like scratches on the floor. Using a piece of paper and pencil, Dean rubbed the led over it to reveal a message.

“Sam, Rye…” Dean turned to give them the paper as they both studied it. “Three letters and six digits. It’s the location and combination for a post office box. ...that’s exactly how Dad does it.”

------

The team got back into the Impala after finding the right post office. Inside they had found an envelope addressed to ‘J. W.’ Riley sat in the back with Finn as the boys got in the front. 

They all debated whether or not to open it, wondering if it had been left for John.

A knock came from the driver’s side window and the hunters jumped at the sound. Smiling back at them, was John Winchester.

Seeing that he was coming for the backseat, Riley scooted over and made room as Finn laid in her lap. 

John got in the car and closed the door behind him. The three were shocked to see him.

“Dad! What are you doing here? Are you alright?” Sam had quickly shifted in his seat to look at his father.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I read the news about Daniel. I got here as fast as I could.” John looked over at the blue-eyed hunter beside him. “Saw you guys up at his place. I had to make sure you weren’t followed by anyone or anything.”

The youngest Winchester grew was almost jealous. “Wait. You came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?”

“He taught me a lot about hunting. We had a falling out years ago, but he was a good man.” Putting his hand out for the letter John said, “I should look at that.” When he was handed the letter, he opened it and began to read. “If you’re reading this, I’m already dead…” John paused as he read on. “That son of a bitch. He had it the whole time. When you three searched the place, did you see an antique gun? A Colt revolver?”

“No, sir,” Dean replied. “There was an old gun case, but it was empty.”

“The things that killed Elkins, they have it. We gotta pick up their trail.” John hadn’t even finished his statement before he was already getting out of the car.

“Wait, you want us to come with you?” Sam was stunned.

“The gun--if Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta go get it.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s important that’s why,” John spoke more firmly. He never had the patience for when his children questioned him. After a deep breath, he looked back at them. “We’re gonna be going after a nest of vampires. That’s what Elkins hunted--it was his specialty.” 

Hurrying back to his truck, John got in and started it up knowing the young hunters would be behind him.

Dean looked quickly back at the others and started up the car.

------

Later into the night, John sat listening to the police scanner in the subpar lodge they had all shared for the night. Sam had fallen asleep and so had Dean and Riley on their own bed as the cuddled up together. A tired Finn laid on the floor at the foot of their bed.

A call came through and John ordered everyone up. Groggy and disoriented, they all struggled to wake themselves.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“Heard a call on the scanner. It’s the vamps.” John grabbed his jacket as he hurried for the door.

“What? How do you know?”

John turned to his son, slightly irritated. “Just follow me, okay?”

Still trying to fully wake up, the three grabbed their things to head out the door as Riley patted her leg for Finn to follow.

------

Riley was never a morning person and the lack of sleep started to hit her as they waited near the scene. She yawned. “Fuck, it’s early. Doesn’t your dad ever sleep?”

Sam leaned against the car, irritated that John had left them behind to talk to the cops. He didn’t feel like a partner, but like a child. 

John and his youngest son always butt heads, mostly because Sam didn’t believe in being his father’s soldier.

John walked back to the car and told them they were on the right trail and that the vampires had come through and taken a couple. “They’re headed west. We’re gonna have to double back to get past the roadblock”

“How can you be so sure?” Sam asked in defiance.

Dean mumbled under his breath. “Here we go again.”

“I found a vampire tooth at the scene.” Handing it to Dean, John looked at Sam. “So, yeah. I’m sure.” With that final comment, he headed back for his truck. “Oh, and Dean. You might wanna give the car a touch up so you don’t get rust. You even got a fucking dog in it for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t have given you the damn thing if I thought you were gonna ruin it.”

Even little comments like that made Dean feel as if he was failing his dad.

Riley felt it too. It got under her skin how much control and power John had over the man she loved. 

Dean could face any monster head on and never doubt himself. But his greatest fear was not being enough for his father.

------

The two vehicles had been driving down the highway. Sam’s irritation with his father continued to seep from him. His hands squeezed around the wheel as he drove.

How pent up he was had been giving Riley anxiety as she felt it all. Negative energies and emotions were always harder to block out.

Trying to get her mind off of it, she offered her thoughts. “Odds are, those vamps drug that missing couple back to their nest.”

“That’s probably what Dad’s thinking,” Sam agreed. “Bu,t I wouldn’t know. The man won’t ever tell us what he’s thinking.”

“Alright, Sam. We spent the last entire year looking for Dad. Now, we’ve barely been with him for more than a couple hours and you guys already have shit between you?” Dean knew that was just how things were between his brother and father. He also knew that meant he would always get put in the middle.

Sighing, Sam replied, “No. It’s not like that. I’m glad he’s alright. I’m even happy that we’re all working together.” He couldn’t bite his tongue another minute as his tone changed. “He just treats us like children, Dean. Dad just barks orders at us and expects us to jump to his every command.” Sam’s anger grew and he began to vent. “He keeps us on some fucking stupid ‘need-to-know’ basis. This may have been alright when we were kids, but not now--not after everything we’ve been through. I mean even you, Riley. Are you guys just fine with him running the show?”

Riley just sat quietly knowing it wasn’t her place to speak on Dean’s behalf, no matter how much she wanted to.

“If that’s what it takes, Sam.” Dean was willing to humble himself to John. His phone rang and after he was given his order, he replied, “yes, sir. Got it,” before hanging up. “Take the next exit. Dad said he got the vampires trail.”

“How?” Sam asked with bite.

“He didn’t say.”

That was all it took for Sam to have had enough. Laying into the pedal, he sped up the car and passed his father’s truck. Whipping the Chevy around to a stop, John’s car barely missed the Impala. 

A furious John got out of his car and marched towards them as Sam did the same.

“Oh, shit. Here we go.” Dean was familiar with the fights they would have and hated every moment. He got out to be the buffer while Riley sat in the backseat trying to breathe through the storm of rage and anger that surrounded the car.

“What the fuck was that?” John barked.

Seething with anger, Sam addressed John. “We’re gonna talk. Right now.”

“About what?”

“Everything! Where are we going, Dad? What the hell is the deal with the gun? Huh? First, you say it’s too dangerous for us to all be together and then suddenly you need our help?”

Desperate to defuse the tension, Dean stepped up to them. “Come on, Sammy. Let’s deal with the vamps and we can do the Q&A later.”

“Your brother’s right, Sam. We don’t have time for this.” John stood stoically like the Marine he always was.

“Obviously, something big is going on, Dad and we want to know what!” The anger Sam had been keeping inside finally bubbled over as he yelled in his father’s face.

John took an almost threatening step closer to his youngest son and commanded for him to get back in the car.

“Look, you guys. We’re all tired. We can talk about this later.” Grabbing his brother’s jacket, Dean shoved his Sam towards the car. “Sammy, I mean it. Come on.”

“This is why I left in the first place,” Sam scoffed under his breath.

“Yeah! You left!” John had tolerated enough of his son’s disobedience. “Your brother and me--we needed you! You walked away, Sam. You walked away!”

“You’re the one that told me not to come back, Dad! You’re the one that closed that door, not me!” Sam began to shout as his rage consumed him. “You were just pissed off that you couldn’t fucking control me anymore!”

John reached out to grab Sam’s coat in frustration as the two were ready to fight. 

As Dean went to push himself between John and Sam, Riley stepped out of the car. Their rage had become her own.

“That’s enough!” she yelled forcefully as she slammed the door. “Sam! Get in the car. Now.” She turned to look at John and wasn’t afraid of him the way Dean was. Riley was firm as her brow furrowed. “Get back...in your car, John.”

As the Winchesters tried to calm themselves, clouds formed from their lips as their breaths hit the air. The tension was palpable.

“She’s right.” Dean looked at them both in frustration as he pushed them apart. “This is over.” John and Sam both got into their cars and Dean was left there with Riley as they tried to steady their breathing. 

“Fan-freaking-tastic,” he added sarcastically as he threw his arms up in annoyance.

------

The truck and Impala found their way onto a dirt road behind a row of trees. Ahead of them, was an old barn with beat up cars out front. The wind blew through the overcast morning and the leaves rustled as the trunks of the two vehicles opened revealing their arsenals. 

It was time to gear up. The nest was in that barn and John wasn’t leaving without that gun.

Luckily, tensions had died down to an extent since the stop on the highway. 

Everyone was readying themselves with machetes. They knew that the fastest way to get this job done was to be as stealthy as possible while the vampires slept. But if they were found out, beheading the creatures was going to be the only way out.

Finn would have to wait in the car, though Riley wasn’t concerned in the least. He was trained to stay quiet and would wait patiently for them to return.

She turned towards Sam as she strapped her gun holster to her waist. “Look, I’m sorry if I was out of line earlier.”

Sam scoffed with a smile. “Nah. I’m cool with you letting me know when I’m being a jackass.”

“Oh, so it’s okay when she does it?” Dean snarked. The others let out a small laugh.

As John prepared his weapons, he looked over at the young hunters. “You kids really wanna know about this Colt?”

“Yes, sir,” the boys replied.

“It’s just a legend. Well, I thought it was. I never really believed it until I read Daniel’s letter.” He turned to face them. “Back in 1835, when Halley’s Comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun--a special gun. He made it for a hunter. A man like us--only on horseback.” With a sigh, John continued, “the story goes, he made 13 bullets. This hunter used the gun a half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. They say--this gun can kill anything.”

Riley’s face changed as the stress from earlier began to melt. Nothing else mattered at that moment. She looked at John as her heart practically jumped into her throat.  “...like the demon.”

“Yeah--the demon. Ever since I picked up its trail, I’ve been looking for a way to destroy that son of a bitch. Find the gun...and we may have it.”

The three young hunters stood frozen in time as they realized the Colt might be the key to the end of their lifelong nightmare. 

------

John, Riley, and the boys found a large barn window to the rafters that would give them a way in. One by one, they climbed in to softly land on stored hay. 

A foul smell of death wafted through the air as it mixed with that of the hay and dirt. The light that peeked through the panels of the barn would have to be enough to guide them.

The four spread out without a command. They worked like a well-oiled machine. Armed and ready, they meticulously moved through the barn through rows of hammocks. The vampires were fast asleep to avoid the hours of painful sunlight. 

On the opposite end sat a makeshift cage. Rusted fencing metal was used to keep in the nest’s prey. Six weak and fading people sat wasting away as they were slowly being drained of blood over time. 

Riley signaled towards Dean, motioning for them to head towards the prisoners. Dean went to work to break the hinges of the door as quietly as possible. 

Putting a finger to her lips, Riley told the captives to remain unheard.

The amount of fear and suffering she could feel as she stood there was about to make her sick. She had to fight to keep all the pleas for help that rang through her mind under control. Riley was overwhelmed hearing more thoughts than one at a time as the terrified victims feared for their lives.

While John found the back of the aged farm building to find the leader of the nest, Sam saw a young woman tied to a post. She seemed unconscious and wore a blood-stained white blouse. The girl had obviously been bitten. 

Sam pulled out a knife from its sheath and crouched down as he began to cut her free. When he looked up, her eyes began to open.

He whispered, “hey. I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?” 

The woman’s jaw dropped open as she released a horrifying and inhuman scream. She had been turned.

All of the hunters jolted at the sound of the noise, realizing their cover was blown. 

As if the girl had set off an alarm, the sleeping creatures woke ready to attack. 

John yelled as he came from the back, “run! Go! Go!”

Doing as he said, the three found themselves in a full sprint towards the entrance of the barn. They hurried into the embrace of the sun as they ran in the direction of the cars.

Sam, Dean, and Riley tried to catch their breaths as John came from the trees behind them. “They won’t follow--they’ll wait ‘til tonight. Once a vampire gets your scent, it’s for life. They’ll come for us.”

“Alright,” Riley said through her deep breaths, “so, what do we do?”

------

The motel room had every shade drawn as they prepared for nightfall. Sam and John sat alone in awkward silence while Riley and Dean had run an errand.

With Finn at his side, Sam sat on the bed stroking his fur as his father went through his research. The feeling of bad blood from the night before still hung in the air. Neither knew how to cross the bridge they had seemed to burn.

“I never told you this,” John’s voice broke through the quiet in the room as he played with a pen in his hand. “But I had college funds started for you boys. I wanted you to go and make something of yourselves someday.” He turned to look at his son. “This was never the life I wanted for you.

“Then why’d you get so mad when I left?”

“When your mother died, all I could see was evil. All that mattered to me was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you both ready. Except, somewhere along the line I stopped being your father and became your drill sergeant.” Sam went over to the desk his dad sat at, ready to hear what he had to say. “When you told me you wanted to go to school--Sammy, I was just so damn scared. You would be alone and vulnerable. I guess it just never really occurred to me to think about what you wanted. Maybe it was just because of how different we are.”

The silence returned, but with a different feel. The Winchester men breathed a sigh of relief as the air around them felt less thick. It was the first time that Sam had ever felt like he could begin to understand John. He never knew that the way his father reacted to him leaving wasn’t about control; Ii was about the crippling fear of losing his little boy.

“Dad,” Sam started. “We’re more alike than you think.”

“How so?”

“With what happened to Mom, and then to Jessica? I think we have a lot more in common than just about anyone.”

John mourned the fact that Sam knew the pain he had gone through in losing his wife. No one should have to endure that kind of suffering, let alone his child. Though as his tears formed in his eyes, there was a glimmer of hope--hope that their relationship could mend itself. 

A smile formed at the corner of John’s mouth. “I guess you’re right.”

The door opened as Riley and Dean came in. Dean held a brown paper bag in his hand as he held the door for her. After greeting Finn, Riley walked over to the desk to join Sam and John.

“We just stole blood...from a funeral home. How did this become our lives?” she asked with sass.

Dean chuckled as he removed a bottle from the bag. Thick blood filled the glass container that he sat on the desk. “That was a lot of security to protect a bunch of dead guys.”

Looking up at the others John gave his command with a single nod. “You know what to do.”

------

On the side of the road, late in the night, Dean leaned over the Impala’s open hood. The headlights were off as he felt around the metal engine.

“Car trouble?” the voice of a woman spoke out from behind him. 

Dean spun around to see a long-haired brunette. She was in washed out jeans with a matching vest that wrapped over her black long sleeved shirt. 

“Let me give you a lift. I’ll take you back to my place.” Her tone was seductive as she got close to the hunter.

“Pass. I mean, I’m into some kinky shit, but I draw the line at necrophilia,” he replied sarcastically.

The woman gave a chuckle before striking him with the back of her hand. Her strength sent Dean straight to the ground. 

As another vampire approached, the female creature grabbed Dean by the face and lifted him up in the air leaving his feet to dangle.

“You’re a forward one aren’t ya?” Dean grunted as he grabbed at her wrists. “I don’t usually get this friendly 'til the second date.”

“You know, we could have some fun. I always like to make new friends.” She lowered him down, still holding his face, and forced him into a kiss. When she was finished, she held him out in front of her.

“You know, I wish I could, but I’m not exactly on the market right now.” An arrow was heard whisking through the air before it thudded into the other vampire’s chest and another into her back. “Sorry. Looks like you may have pissed off my girlfriend.”

The vampire turned around as Riley walked out from the shadows with a crossbow in hand. 

John came from the opposite side with one as well while Sam held a machete. 

Looking at the other hunters, the vampire snickered, “barely even stings.” She released Dean ready to fight the others.

“Give it time, sweetheart,” John replied in a cocky tone. “That arrow’s soaked in dead man’s blood.” The creature gave a look of shock before falling to the ground nearly unconscious. Pointing to her body John ordered to the others, “load her up in the truck.” The remaining vampire was still alert, but on his knees. John glared at him, taking Sam’s machete. “I’ll take care of this one.”

------

A small bonfire had been set ablaze as Sam patrolled the area. 

John walked over from his truck with a sack of items that he handed to Dean. “Toss this on the fire--saffron, skunk's cabbage and trillium. It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready.”

“Ugh. This friggin’ stuff stinks.”

“That's the idea. Dust your clothes with the ashes and you stand a chance of not being detected.”

Riley turned to look at her boyfriend. “First you make out with a dead chick and now you smell like actual shit. How did I get so lucky?” she asked in sarcasm. 

Dean chuckled as he playfully went to kiss her. She cringed and pushed him away.

“They’ll come for the girl. Vampires mate for life, so she means more to the leader than the gun. The blood sickness will wear off soon though, so we don’t have a lot of time.” John closed up the trunk. “Thirty minutes or so and then you all get out of the area as fast as you can. I’ll have the Colt so I’ll handle the rest of them.”

“Okay,” Sam started hesitantly. “But afterward we’re gonna meet up and use the Colt together? Right?” There was a long pause as John refused to answer. “You’re gonna leave again and go after the demon alone, aren’t you?” He scoffed. “You know, I don’t get you. You can’t keep treating us like children, Dad.”

“You are my children,” John barked. “I’m trying to keep you safe!”

Dean couldn’t stand staying quiet any longer. “Dad, all due respect but, uh--that's a crock of shit.”

Riley’s eyes grew watching him challenge his father’s words. She wasn’t sure she would ever see a day where Dean stepped out of rank.

“Excuse me?” John was thrown by his son’s words.

“You know what Sammy, Riley, and I have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe.”

“It’s not the same thing, Dean.”

Crossing her arms, Riley stepped closer to be a part of the conversation. “So, what is it then, John? Why don’t you want us to be a part of this? This fight means just as much to us as it does to you.” Her words showed her lack of patience with the man.

He turned to face her. John always knew that Riley was a fiery woman but was still surprised she spoke out against him. “This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you all alive.”

“You mean you can’t be as reckless,” Dean bit back.

“Look...I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. Your mother's death--it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die too. I won't.”

Riley braced herself as the emotions from the Winchesters began to engulf her. She was learning to always be ready for them whenever the family would have to talk.

“What happens if you die?” Dean stepped up to his father. “Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done something about it? You know I’ve been thinking. I think maybe Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together.” 

Sam nodded in agreeance.

“John,” Riley’s voice was softer and more pleading. “We’re stronger together. You know we are.” There was a moment of silence and Riley tried to read his thoughts. She could only catch pieces. It was almost as if his thoughts were too scattered to make sense.

Finally, John turned towards his sons. “We're running out of time. You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order,” he said as he headed back for his truck.

The three stood there unsure of what to do. They knew there was no arguing with John, but there was no way in hell they were going to wait on the sidelines for the most important fight of their lives.

------

John was going to find the leader and make a trade for the Colt on his own. At that time, Sam, Dean, and Riley had gone back to free the prisoners in the barn.

Cars had been following John for quite a long stretch of road. He had been watching from his rear-view mirror, keeping an eye on their distance. With one more glance, he saw that the cars had gone. John turned his head to get a better look, only to see the fog rolling behind him. 

As he turned back to face the road ahead of him, John had to slam on the brakes as he saw the nest of vampires waiting in the road. The headlights created a glare in their eyes that gave them a strange, supernatural glow.

“Get out,” the leader ordered. He was tall with long shaggy hair and wore a black leather jacket. As John got out of the car the vampire continued. “I’m Luther. Who the fuck are you?”

“Name’s Winchester.” Reaching into the truck, John drug out the weak vampire. She was bound in rope and still groggy. “She’ll be fine.” He paused to look at their leader in the eyes, “...dead man’s blood.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“A trade. I want the Colt--the gun you took from Elkins.”

Luther started to laugh. “That’s what this is about? You think you can just shoot us?”

“Oh, I don’t need it for you. I’m saving it for something else.” The hunter gave a cocky smirk. “So, put the gun down or she goes first.”

Obeying the demands, the vampire placed the Colt onto the road. He stepped back to give a safe distance for the hunter to retrieve it. 

As John went to reach down for the gun, the drugged vampire had regained her strength and pulled from her restraints. She swung around and struck John with force, causing him to fall to the ground.

A snickering Luther walked over to John as he stood back up. The monster hit him hard enough to fly back into his door’s window. The glass shattered around John’s weak frame as he met the pavement once again as he was knocked out cold. 

Arrows shot through the air and impaled two of the nest members. 

Sam, Riley, and Dean had finished their mission, but weren’t about to leave John on his own. Orders be damned.

They charged at full speed into the road ready to fight. Dean swung hard, taking off one of the creature’s heads off as Sam fired another arrow.

Riley came out from behind a tree with her crossbow ready and Luther tackled her to the ground. She groaned out in pain as her back hit the floor and the wind had been knocked out of her chest. 

As he looked down at Riley, she could hear a strange hissing come from the monster. It wasn’t audible, though she could almost feel it in her bones. 

Luther’s cold hand grabbed her up off the ground and he wrapped his arm around her throat.

Dean immediately reacted to her being taken and turned towards Luther with the machete. His eyes were filled with hate and his blood boiled watching the monster hold onto her. “Let her go, freak!”

“Don’t,” Luther hissed. “Put it down or I snap her neck.”

Being too caught in the moment, Riley had no thoughts to attempt to send Dean’s way. She gasped for air as her throat began to feel squeezed. T

he moment she had to fight for air, Dean put his hand up in surrender. There was no way he would risk her life. His blade clanked on the ground as he conceded to the demands.

“You people.” Anger poured from Luther as he held tightly onto the hunter’s throat. “Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do.”

“I don’t think so,” a deep voice spoke out from behind him.

Luther turned to the voice, still holding Riley. He was met with the barrel of the Colt pointed in his direction as John held it firmly in his hand. 

Before Luther could respond, the hunter pulled the trigger. A loud bang exploded through the empty highway as a bullet found its target in Luther’s forehead. A large, almost rotted-looking circle immediately appeared at the entrance wound. Luther stumbled and released Riley. 

She gasped for air as Dean grabbed her to hold her close and Sam hurried to their sides. 

Blood seeped from the vampire’s skull and ran down his face as a mystical glow came from the bullet’s entry. A rush of wind blew in as Luther’s face quickly flashed an almost skeletal appearance. Black veins stretched out across his pale skin and he fell to his knees. He groaned out in pain as a light shot through his skull, finally snuffing out any life in him. The then still corpse landed on the ground.

Luther’s mate screamed in fury and pain. Her wrath and monstrous-like screams echoed in Riley’s mind. 

Another nest member took the woman by the arm and drug her away back to her vehicle. Once inside, the driver laid on the pedal and sped them away in a desperate escape.

John stood still in his spot as a satisfied grin curled at his lips. 

It was true. The Colt was real.

------

Riley filled up Finn’s bowl of water and sat it in the corner as she tidied up. Sam and Dean worked to clean off their gear after an eventful night.

“You boys ignored a direct order back there,” John stated as he walked in the door.

“Yes, sir,” Sam replied.

Dean looked at his father with no fear. “But we saved your ass.”

Sam’s face was shocked as he looked at his brave brother. 

Riley was bursting with pride for Dean. So much so, that she somehow found him even more attractive.

“You’re right,” John admitted.

“I am?” Dean was in no way prepared for that response.

Nodding his head, John looked at his children. “It scares the hell out of me. But you two are all I’ve got.” He turned to Riley and Finn. “Well, the four of you, I guess.” Riley smirked as she pet the faithful dog at her side. “You were right, Riley.” John looked at the three young hunters in front of him as he surrendered to their only chance of ending it all. “We go after this damn thing...as a family. Together.”

------

The next day, John had set up a station at the desk. Papers, pictures, news clippings, weather reports, and more were pinned to the wall behind him. Books were stacked on the desk and years of endless research was spread out.

Sam sat near John as they worked through his findings. Dean had been pacing when Riley came in from a walk with Finn.

“Good, you’re back.” Looking up at her, John motioned for her to come to him.

Dean gave her a kiss hello and they walked over as his hand found her waist.

“Look, our whole lives we been searching for this demon right? There hasn’t been a damn trace of it, until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail.”

“That’s when you took off.” Dean finally understood and John nodded. “Alright, so what's this trail you found?”

“It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, and then California. Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us.”

“Families with babies,” Riley added.

“Yeah. On the night of the kid’s six-month birthday.” Sam and Riley turned to each other. “You both were exactly six months old the nights the demon came.”

“So, basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason.” Sam began to walk away into a pace. “The same way it came for me? So, Mom's death--Jessica? It's all because of me?”

Riley’s head snapped in his direction. “So, what? Does that mean I’m to blame for what happened to my mom and to Deb? Is that what you think?”

“I don’t know, Rye. I mean, as much as it sucks, that’s kind of what it looks like.”

“For the last time,” Dean’s voice was filled with frustration. “What happened to everyone was neither of your faults.”

Sam scoffed. “Fine, so it’s not my fault, but it’s my problem.”

“No! It’s not your problem. It’s our problem.” Dean had listened to his brother blame himself for too long and he wasn’t about to let his self-hatred feed into Riley’s.

John stood and his chair squeaked on the wooden floors. “Okay, that’s enough.” Everyone took a moment to take a breath and calm themselves. “I don’t even know what the evil bastard wants with these kids. I wish I had more answers, I do. I've always been one step behind it. I've never even gotten there in time to save…” John couldn’t even find the words to finish that sentence as he hung his head in shame. “I failed them all. Just like I failed Mary,” he thought as he ran a hand down his face.

Riley could feel the conflict in him and in his thoughts. “Okay, so how do we find it before it strikes again?”

“There are signs. It took me a while to see the pattern, but it's there in the days before these fires signs crop up in an area.” John handed different papers with information to the three hunters. “Cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked...they all happened in Lawrence, a week before your mom died and in Palo Alto before Jessica. Riley, the same things were going on before what happened to your mom and to Debbie too. And these signs,” he paused. “...they're starting again.”

“Where?” Sam’s tone was filled with a sense of urgency.

“...Salvation, Iowa.”

A lump formed in Riley’s throat as she came to a realization. She walked over to her canine companion and crouched in front of him. Finn licked her face knowing that she needed the comfort. A tear ran down her face and she sniffled. 

Riley cleared her throat. “Guys,” she started. Sam and Dean turned in her direction as she struggled to compose herself. “We gotta take Finn to Missouri’s. It’s too dangerous and we’re going through Kansas on our way to Iowa.” She wiped her face and rubbed the dog’s ears. “I can’t risk it.”

Dean moved over to her and she stood to meet his embrace. His hand rubbed up and down her opposite arm in comfort. “I know it’ll be hard, sweetheart. We’ll go get him when it’s safe. I promise.”

“I’ll give Missouri a call.” Sam grabbed his phone and made his way outside.

Riley squat down to the ground, looking Finn in the eyes and lovingly petting him. “I gotta keep you safe, buddy. But I swear, I’ll come back for you.”

------

In the Impala, Dean sat fixated on the road as he followed his father’s truck. 

Riley sat in the back. She strummed at the strings on her guitar in an attempt to take her mind off her aching heart.

Riley knew Missouri would take care of Finn--that he would be safe. Still, leaving him behind felt wrong. She knew how much she would miss him and she tried to ignore the tears that urged themselves from her eyes. 

Saying goodbye to Finn earlier that day was like a knife to her gut.

John’s truck pulled to the side of the road and Dean followed. The two cars parked as John got out and began to curse through his growing emotions. 

“Goddammit!” His hands ran through his hair before he struck the car in anger. “Son of a bitch!”

“Dad, what’s going on?” Dean asked as the three of them hurried his way.

“I just got a call from Caleb,” he paused as his head fell. “Jim Murphy’s dead.”

Riley struggled to keep herself in check as John’s inability to control his pain began to soak into her core. When she was vulnerable, the feelings she picked up on seemed to magnify to an unbearable level. 

She knew Pastor Jim. He helped take care of her and her father several times when they needed him most. Jim was a good man and a respected hunter.

“How?” she asked as her voice broke.

“His throat was slashed--he bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place.”

“A demon?” Dean paused. “The demon?”

John shrugged as his hands found his jacket pockets. “I don't know. Could be he just got careless and he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. “So what do we do?”

“Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week.”

“John that could be an impossible number of kids,” Riley said in worry.

“So, we check ‘em all.” John began to shake as his anger rose thinking of his friend’s death. “This ends, now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes.” John turned towards his car and got in before slamming the door.

Sam, Riley, and Dean shot each other a look before hurrying back to Baby.

------

The Winchesters and Riley had reached Salvation. Their only hope of finding the families that were in danger was to search hospital records. Dean and Riley worked through the files of one hospital while Sam and John searched two others.

As Sam walked out of the Salvation Medical Center front doors, he flipped through his notebook of information he’d gathered. A familiar pain rushed through his skull as he clutched his forehead. It was another vision.

Flashes of a nursery in the middle of the night took over. A brown-haired woman walked into her daughter’s room as the sound of a train whistle blew from outside. Sam breathed heavily through the pain as he saw the shadow of the demon next to the cooing child. The next flash was the room set ablaze as the woman was pinned to the ceiling, screaming.

When it had finally passed, Sam’s head shot up. “A train.” 

He pulled a map from a pocket in his backpack looking for tracks nearby. Spotting where he thought he should go, Sam took off. He was going to find the house he had seen in his vision. Sam had to know if what he saw was real.

------

The hunters had all made their way back to the motel they had checked into. John sat with his hands clasped as he leaned against them. Riley and Dean sat side by side in silence as Sam told them all about his vision.

“A vision?” John’s tone went flat. “And you think this will actually happen to the woman you went and found because…”

“Because things happen the way I see them.” Sam rubbed his head still recovering from the lingering pain.

Dean looked towards his father. “They started out as nightmares. Then they started happening when he was awake,” he said as he got up to go pour a cup of coffee.

“It seems like the closer I get to anything involving the demon,” Sam winced, “the stronger the visions get.”

John stood in a huff. “When the fuck did you all plan on telling me this? Jesus, Dean, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me.”

“Call you?” Dean asked in sarcasm. “Are you kidding me? I called you from Lawrence when we went back to the house. I called you when Riley’s aunt died.” 

“John, I called you when Dean was dying.” Riley had bitten her tongue long enough. “We got a better chance of winning the lottery than getting you on the phone.” She felt John’s energy shift. 

He knew they were right. Silence fell in the room as no one knew what to say.

“You’re right,” John admitted. “Although I’m not too fond of this new tone of yours, Dean, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He looked over at Riley. “You both are right.”

Sighing, Riley closed her eyes as she worked up the courage to ‘rip off the band-aid’ and tell John the rest. “It’s not just Sam.”

John’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to--” Dean started before Riley interrupted him.

“It’s okay, Dean,” she said putting a hand sweetly on his arm. “John, Sam isn’t the only one dealing with this stuff.” Riley took another deep breath. “I’ve been developing empathic abilities. I feel people’s emotions. And…”

John sighed, “there’s more?”

“I still don’t know how to control it...but, I can hear thoughts sometimes.”

“...telepathy.”

Riley nodded. “It all started around the same time Sam’s nightmares started.”

Again, the silence had returned. John rubbed his temples as he tried to absorb the overwhelming information. “What would Jackson think if he were here?” he thought.

“He wouldn’t judge me, John. He would tell me not to be afraid.”

John’s head shot back up to look back at her. His eyes were wide and he knew it was all true.

“Look, psychic abilities or not, we know the demon is coming tonight.” Sam knew they were wasting time. “And another family is gonna go through what both of ours did.”

“No, they’re not,” John replied in certainty. “No one is, ever again.”

Just as John finished speaking, Sam’s phone rang. Flipping it open, he answered. “Hello?”

“Well, hi, Sam. Long time no talk.”

The familiar and sinister feminine voice sent a chill down his spine. “Meg.” The others turn to Sam in a slight panic. “Last time we talked, you fell out of a window.”

“Yeah, that really hurt my feelings,” Meg teased. “Let me speak to your dad.”

“I don’t know where he is, Meg.”

“It’s time for the grown-ups to talk, Sam. Let me speak to him...now.”

Sam hesitated before he gave his father the phone. John brought it to his ear. “This is John.”

“Howdy, John. I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your boys. I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood.” There was a pause as John’s jaw clenched with rage. “...still there John-boy?”

“...I’m here.”

“Well, that was yesterday. Today I'm in Lincoln--visiting another old friend of yours. You and Caleb go way back, don’t you, John?”

“You listen to me. Caleb’s got nothing to do with anything. You let him go.”

Sam, Riley, and Dean jumped at the name they knew all too well. John’s heart sank in his chest.

“We know you have the Colt.”

Trying to compose himself, John lied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, okay, John. Well, why don’t you give this a listen?” Immediately, the sound of Caleb gasping and gurgling came through the phone. Meg had slit his throat. “You hear that? That's the sound of your friend dying,” she snickered. “Now let's try this again. We know you have the gun John, word travels fast. So, as far as we're concerned you just declared war. And this is what war looks like. It has casualties.”

“I’m gonna kill you. You know that?”

“Oh, John please, mind your blood pressure,” Meg taunted. “So, this is the thing. We're going to keep doing what we're doing. And your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved--they'll all die unless you give us that gun.”

John swallowed hard as he realized he had no other option. “...okay. I’ll bring you the Colt.”

“There's a warehouse in Lincoln, on the corner of Wabash and Lake. You're gonna meet me there. Midnight, tonight.” Her voice was calm but stern. Meg knew she John him right where she wanted him.

“That's impossible. It's gonna take me about a day’s drive to get there. I can't get there in time and I can't just carry a gun on the plane.”

“Oh. Well, I guess your friends die, don't they? Such a shame. But if you do decide to make it, come alone.” The line disconnected.

John closed the phone as he looked up at his boys and Riley.

Sam shook his head. “Do you think Meg is a demon?”

“Either that or she’s possessed by one,” John answered.

Riley looked distressed as her mind went a mile a minute. “Oh, my god.”

“What is it?” Sam asked reaching for her shoulder.

“She’s possessed. It all makes sense now.” She scoffed as she began to pace. “When we were in the warehouse, I felt something. Well, actually...I didn’t feel anything. It was like she was a shell of a person--like there was nothing but darkness and emptiness inside of her.” Riley stopped and looked up at the Winchester men as another realization came over her. “I heard her.”

Dean could see the almost panic-like state she was in. “Heard who?”

“The girl Meg is possessing.” Riley sat on the bed in almost a moment of defeat. “I--I heard a faint, distant scream coming from her--like someone was crying for help. I didn’t know what it was at the time. But...I was hearing the woman trapped inside.” As she looked up, tears formed in Riley’s eyes. She felt she should have known that trapped woman needed her. What was worse was that the girl been left in there with the demon the whole time. 

Crouching in front of her, Dean took her hands. “Look at me.” His green eyes found her crying blues. “There was nothing you could have done. You did nothing wrong.” He wiped a tear that fell down her cheek. “I think you might be more powerful than we thought, Riley.”

“He’s right,” John agreed. “I’ve never even heard of anyone being able to do that.”

Sam bit his lip before speaking. “It’s so strange, mine haven’t evolved like that. It’s almost like Riley’s abilities are tied to souls--emotions, thoughts, presence...it’s their essence.”

“Well, whatever it is,” Dean stood to sit beside Riley. “We’ll figure it out.”

John turned to grab his things and start collecting his research. “I’m going to Lincoln.”

“What?” Dean couldn’t believe his father would cave in to their demands.

“It doesn't look like we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die--our friends die.”

“Dad, the demon is coming tonight,” Sam pleaded, “for that woman and her family. That gun is all we got. You can't just hand it over.”

“Who said anything about handing it over?” John put on his coat as he readied to leave. “Look, besides us and a couple of vampires, no ones really seen the gun, no one knows what it looks like. We’ll go to an antique store--find another old revolver.”

“Wait a minute,” Riley said giving John a confused look. “You’re just gonna try and pass a fake and hope she doesn’t notice?

“I just need to get one that resembles the Colt. As long as it’s close, she won’t notice. I just need to buy a few extra hours.”

Sam understood where his father’s plan was headed. “You mean for us and Riley.” He paused and dread filled him. “You want us to stay here...and kill this demon by ourselves.”

“No, Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean and Riley to build a home together if they want to…” John began to weep and his voice broke with every word. “I want Mary alive...I just want this to be over.”

------

Somewhere down a muddy road, the four hunters met under an old wooden train bridge. The rain softly fell and rippled in the pools of water at their feet as a whistle blew in the distance.

Dean pulled a brown paper bag out from inside his jacket and handed it to John. “You know this is a trap don’t you?” 

As he pulled back the bag, John could see an antique revolver. The barrel was long and silver and it had a brown wooden handle. It looked like a distant relative of the Colt. 

“That’s why Meg wants you to come alone.”

“I can handle her,” John smiled. “I got a whole arsenal loaded--holy water, Mandaic, amulets…”

Dean interrupted. “Dad, promise me something.” Riley hooked into his arm as his hands sat in his pockets and leaned into him to comfort him. “This thing goes south just--get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed alright? You're no good to us dead.”

“Same goes for you.” There was a long, drawn out pause between them. “Alright, listen to me. They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of them left. Without them this gun is useless. You make every shot count.”

“Yes, sir,” both sons acknowledged.

“Been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here...I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you three now. It's your fight. You finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?” John handed the Colt to Dean as he hesitantly took it.

“We’ll see you soon, Dad.” Sam tried to control the sadness and worry that swam through him.

The emotions between them all under that bridge were intense. Riley had stayed quiet trying to be their rock while she tried to steady herself.

“I’ll see you later.” John patted Sam’s shoulder with a smile before turning to leave. With one last look at his children, John got into his truck and the door slammed shut. 

As he drove away down the muddy road, the three stood where he had left them as they watched him disappear into the distance.

Riley reached out her hand for Sam’s and clasped it in hers. She pulled him closer to her side. Holding onto her brother and linked with the man she loved, they stood silently in the rain. 

They had never been closer to the end of it all. And as afraid as they were for themselves and for John--Sam, Dean, and Riley knew that they would fight to the end. ...as a family.

------

Chapter 12: Devil’s Trap Part 1

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the series :)

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[ihaveallthesefeelsokay]

Gabriel Bingo fic - Playing His Role

@idabbleincrazy @gabriel-spn-bingo

Playing His Role  (AO3 Link)

“Please.  Just five minutes.  Hear us out.”

“Sure.  Tell you what: survive the next twenty-four hours, we’ll talk.”

  “Oh, you’re somebody’s bitch.”

“Don’t you ever, ever presume to know what I am.”

Dean looked down at his firefighter’s uniform and back up at the horizon.  He and Sam were somewhere flat – maybe Kansas or Nebraska – and looking at a mushroom cloud in what must be the Rockies.

Great.  A post-apocalyptic show.  What ‘role’ did the Trickster want this time?  Putting out fires?  

People rushed around them franticly and Dean had to sidestep to keep from being run over by a mom carrying a baby.

Jeez.  You’d think it was the end of the world or something.

Okay, so it might be the end outside of this TV world.  But in here, Dean was pretty sure life was going to go on – if people would just calm down.

Wait.  Maybe that was the job here.  “Sammy,” he said.  “We’re supposed to stop rioting, you think?”

Sam shrugged.  “I’d’ve figured we’d be in cop uniforms for that.”

Speaking of cop uniforms, an older man in one came up to them with a swagger and looked Sam up and down. “My men and I are headed out to look for the missing school bus, Chief.  Think you got things here?”

“Uh, sure thing, uh, Sheriff.”

The man – and Dean noticed his sheriff’s star this time – nodded and put his hat on as he walked off.

Around them, lights flickered and went off, leaving the street in the dark.

“Great,” muttered Dean. Just like before, he somehow knew exactly what to say.  “How could we lose power?”

Another fireman appeared near them.  “The bomb could’ve fried the relays.”

“That’s possible,” Dean said.

“They could’ve blown up the power station for all we know,” said Sam.

A rugged-looking dark-skinned man approached them.  “Guys? It was probably just a drain on the system from Denver.”

Denver, then.  So from the angle… yeah, they were probably in Kansas.

“You a science teacher?” he asked the newcomer.

With a laugh, the man introduced himself.  “Robert Hawkins.”

Sam held out his hand. “Chief Winchester.”

Around them, the town continued to panic while three sheriff’s cars drove off.

“Guess we’re on our own now,” Dean said.

“Great.  How much longer do we have?” Sam asked quietly.

Dean reflexively at his wrist, but the watch was useless in TV land.  “Gotta be getting close to the twenty-four hour mark.”

“I sure hope so,” muttered Sam as this Hawkins guy turned back to them.

“Your town does roadwork at night, doesn’t it?”

Sam and Dean looked at each other.  Hell if they actually knew, but Sam said yes anyway and Dean followed some other firefighters to a garage across the street from the parking lot they were in.

Huh.  Roadwork had never been one of the jobs he’d taken to make ends meet, but maybe he should try it.  The equipment was kinda fun to play with.

Sam helped crank up the equipment and it lit up the sky – way too bright for road lamps.

Dean shielded his face and next thing he knew, he was staring at blue sky and a harsh sun.

“Shit,” said Sam, barely able to be heard over the whine of a plane engine close by.  “Lost.”

“Son of a bitch,” cursed Dean, although at least this was another world where women dressed scantily. In fact, if he remembered right, that Shannon chick went sunning in her bathing suit pretty early…

Sam yawned.  “Dean, we’d better find a world we can sleep in soon or I’m going to fall asleep standing up.”

Yeah.  They’d gone Trickster-only-knew how many hours since he first trapped them here – and who knew many days outside, since Cas had said they’d been gone for days the one time they’d seen him.

Dean hoped the Trickster had just blocked Cas from breaking in, not killed him or hurt him somehow. They needed the angel on their side for this upcoming fight.

The fight his stupid brother wanted to bring the stupid Trickster in on.  If they made it out of here, the Trickster better pony up or he was definitely gonna gank a demigod.

Dean noticed Sam swaying on his feet.  Okay, sleep. Maybe they could get a nap in somewhere in this world, where at least it was warm and nice – except for the polar bears and smoke monsters.

But not before people were waving them over to help pull the wounded from beneath the plane’s wings. Remembering from the show that one of the wings fell, Dean couldn’t say no.

He did tell Sam to go find a shady spot and sit down.  Dean was tired but still going.  Sam looked dead on his feet.

And maybe, just maybe, if they stopped to rest, the Trickster would let them.

Ah, who was Dean kidding? The Trickster wanted them dead as much as any other monster.  They’d probably get eaten by the polar bear.

“Do you have a pen?” someone said to Dean as he hauled a guy out from under the plane’s wing and away from the engine.  “I need a pen.”

“Sorry, kid,” Dean said. “Keep looking.”

Once everyone was safe, Dean trudged back up the beach to where Sam was wiped out and snoring.  He sat down under the closest tree, leaning back against the trunk, trying to keep his eyes open to watch out for Sam.

It wasn’t working.

  Gabriel leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his red ottoman and dog in his lap, watching the Winchesters doze on the retro TV in front of him.  His fingers itched to send some danger their way to wake them up – they only had three hours left to go, after all.  He ought to keep them jumping.

But they’d caught on, hadn’t they?  He couldn’t get them to understand the full lesson until he went and talked to them. And humans being built as they were, they’d probably listen better after a few hours sleep.

With a gesture, Gabriel paused the Lost simulation and let Sam and Dean rest.

As the last hour of their ‘day’ came to a close, he changed the setting and brought them back to the Dr. Sexy hospital, this time as patients. Gabriel was rather proud of that set – he’d been able to embarrass Dean by exposing his obsession with the show and embarrass Sam by making him uncomfortable with that doctor’s flirting.

Yeah, that had been a good set-up.

Gabriel popped himself into the hospital room where the Winchesters slept, checked that he’d tied them down and gagged them with breathing apparatuses, smoothed down Dr. Sexy’s coat, and snapped his fingers – a little bit of flair for when he was being watched, even if it was just by his own creations.

It took them a second to orient themselves, but the Winchester quickly began fighting the straps holding them down and coughing around the tubes in their throats.

“Calm down, buckos,” Gabriel drawled.  “I’ll ungag you.  I did promise we would talk.”

He took a moment to watch the frustration in their eyes before he stepped back and opened the door to the room.  A rather busty nurse came in and fussed over the boys as she removed their intubations. Gabriel added a little wiggle to her walk, trying not to laugh at Dean’s eyes following her so blatantly.

Oh, he loved humans, but they were so predictable sometimes.

As soon as the nurse was gone, Dean rasped out a question.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” Gabriel said, even though he had.  He snapped again, lubricating Sam and Dean’s throats so they could talk clearly.

“What did you do with Cas, you bastard?”

Ah, that was touching. Concern for his little bro.  “He’s safe,” Gabriel said simply.  Castiel was caged up in another pocket dimension, locked up tight.  No way was Gabriel going to let him escape until the archangel/Trickster was far away – Castiel could identify him.

“Where is he?” Dean asked again.

“He’s safe, like I told you.  Keep asking and someone might start wondering about you two,” Gabriel teased. “I’ll let him go at some point.”

“So let us go,” Sam said. “We did your game.  We played our roles.”

“Ah,” Gabriel said, holding up a finger knowingly.  “That’s half of the game.”

“What’s the other half?”

Wiggling his fingers vaguely towards the windows, Gabriel said, “Play your roles out there.”

Glaring, Dean asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know.  Sam starring as Lucifer.  Dean starring as Michael.”  Gabriel pointed at each brother in turn.  “Your celebrity death match!  Play.  Your.  Roles.”

Sam looked betrayed. “You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?”

No, Gabriel didn’t. He’d much rather the Winchesters find a way to stop this thing.  That wasn’t possible, though.  Destiny couldn’t be avoided, not when it’d been preordained by Father, so the only thing to do was get it over with as quickly as possible.  Like ripping off a cosmic Band-Aid.  “Hells yeah!  Let’s light this candle!”

“We do that, the world will end,” Sam tried to argue.

“Yeah?” Gabriel sneered, letting some of his frustration bleed out.  “And whose fault is that?  Who popped Lucifer out of the box?  Hm?”

Sam had the gall to look affronted.  Gabriel turned to Dean before he continued.

“Look, it’s started,” he explained.  “You started it.  It can’t be stopped.  So let’s get it over with!”

The brothers glared at Gabriel, who popped off with a charming grin to try and tamp down his anger.

“Heaven or Hell, which side you on?” Dean asked.

Oh, no.  Gabriel was not going to play that game.  “Get this straight, asshole: don’t ever presume to know me,” he snapped, dropping the cheerful façade.  “I work for myself.  You’re stuck with me and only me right now.  And listen closely, because here’s what’s gonna happen: you’re gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you.”

“And if we don’t?” Sam said, daring to sass.

Gabriel’s fingers itched. It would be so easy to send them back into TV Land and leave them there forever, but soon Heaven and Hell would send emissaries to look for the vessels.  He didn’t have much time left to keep them.

“You will,” he said with assurance.  “You’ll say yes because you’ll want to, in the end.  Because you have to.”

“We won’t.”  Dean struggled against the restraints.  “You think you’ll fare well if we say yes? You’re just a demigod.  Michael and Lucifer will eat you up.”

Gabriel very pointedly didn’t react.  Truth was, his big brothers might very well wipe the floor with him.  He’d learned some, well, tricks that might give him an edge, but they’d only work once, with one of his brothers.  Best to lay low and stay out of things as long as he could.

Besides, he’d promised Loki.

“I think,” he said, “that I’ll survive better than a couple of humans wanted by the big dogs.  I think that whichever way this goes, it’s better for the world if it goes quickly.”

“Oh, so you’re doing this out of the kindness of your own heart, is that it?”  Dean laughed.  “Sorry, buddy, not buying it.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed and Sam looked at his brother.  “Dean…”

“What did I tell you, you arrogant prick?” Gabriel seethed.  “I told you to suck it up because you have no other choice.  Or would you rather stay in TV land forever, without me letting you stop and rest?”

“No,” Sam said firmly. “We get what you want.  We just don’t get why.”

“I told you.  You can’t stop Armageddon, so might as well ride it out.”

“We’ve heard from both Heaven and Hell,” Dean said.  “Doesn’t sound like there’s much room for anything but angels and demons in their plans. You really think you’ll survive?”

“I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?” Gabriel asked.  “And let me tell you, Heaven and Hell don’t care much for pagans.”

“Pagan?” Sam asked. “You’re a pagan god?  Thought Tricksters were just demigods.”

‘Just’ demigods. Hah.  Sam wasn’t entirely wrong but Gabriel would classify all pagans – even the nasty Norse pantheon – as demigods.  After all, he knew the real God and his Father wasn’t anything like the pagans.  Some of the pagans were loving, involved parents, for one.

“Which one are you?” Dean asked.  “Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?”

Gabriel glared at Dean, but answered.  “Loki. They call me Loki.”

“Loki?  As in the Norse god?” Sam sounded bewildered.

“That’s right.  You thought you were tangling with some low-level mischief maker?  Puh-lease.”  Gabriel spun, doing a little twirl to show off.  “I play in the big league, boys.”

“Okay, so you’re a big dog,” snapped Dean.  “But that doesn’t make you bigger than an archangel.  If we say yes and they find out you tortured us…”  He trailed off, leaving the threat unspoken.

Gabriel had considered that. It was almost certain that his brothers would see him in Sam and Dean’s memories and realize he was still around.  It’s why he had a contingency plan – as soon as one of them said yes, he was going to ground.  Maybe Loki – the real Loki – would help hide him again.

Why not?  It’d worked the first time and he’d kept his promise. If not, he could always fortify a pocket universe and seal himself off from the world.  It’d suck, being all alone with only his creations to entertain him, but he could do it.

Funny.  Maybe that’s how Dad felt about the universes he created. Maybe that’s why he left.

He waved his hand, dismissing Dean’s threat.  “You think I don’t have plans?  Try again.” He smiled and patted Sam’s leg, making him thrash against the restraints again.  “Like I said, you’re going to say ‘yes’ or you’re my playthings forever. And I have quite the imagination,” he warned.

Going still under his hand, Sam managed to speak through clenched teeth.  “We aren’t going to say yes without a fight, you know.”

Of course they weren’t. They wouldn’t be his brothers’ true vessels if they went to their destiny quietly.  “But you will say yes.  Once you realize it’s hopeless, you’ll say yes.  When you see what Michael and Lucifer do to the Earth, you’ll wish you said yes sooner.”

“Fine,” grumbled Dean. “Let us go and if we can’t find a way to stop it, we’ll say yes.”

Gabriel could tell Dean was lying – souls pulsed in a certain way when humans hid the truth – but Loki couldn’t, so Gabriel played along.  “Soon.  If you can’t find a way to stop it soon, like say, three months from now.  February.  Make it Valentine’s Day, so you remember it.”  He paused.  “No, make it the day after.  I’ll let you boys pick up some lonely chicks on Valentine’s so you go out on a high note,” he offered magnanimously.

“Okay,” said Sam. “We’ll do it.”

Sam lied, too. Gabriel wasn’t surprised.  Still, this gave him an out – he had to get rid of the Winchesters.  He considered dumping them at the gates of Heaven – Michael wanted the fight, had always wanted the fight, so he’d be honorable and deliver Sam to Lucifer – but decided to keep his word.

You never knew how humans would surprise you, after all.

“I’ll be watching you,” Gabriel cautioned.  “Don’t try and double-cross me, kiddos, or you’ll regret it.”

The Winchesters swore up and down they’d keep their promises.

Filthy little liars. Gabriel would have to come up with other ways to nudge them into submission.

He did have one big ace up his sleeve, though.  “All right. I’ll let you go, but your friend Castiel is staying with me.  Call it my insurance plan.”

It was obvious from Dean’s face that he didn’t believe Gabriel could actually hold and hurt Castiel. Hah!  If he properly understood the power Gabriel had, both angelic and pagan, he’d be quaking in his hospital gown and compression socks.

Well, he probably wouldn’t. Dean was foolhardy like that. Gabriel remembered a time when humans cowered in fear from angels.  Hell, the very sight of him had struck the human Zachariah mute two millennia ago.

Humans these days.  So brash and unafraid of the very things they should fear most.

Gabriel sighed. Raising his hand, poised to snap, he shot off a last minute warning.  “Say yes.  Save the world some suffering.”  Save me from having to watch the storm approach. Let it just get here and be done with, he thought.

He snapped, returning himself to his little apartment and comfy armchair.  On the TV screen, nurses came and made Sam and Dean go through the full discharge procedures of a real hospital – one last little stab at them. Two hours later, they wandered out of the warehouse and into the world again.

He’d failed, he knew, just like he had at the mystery spot.  Sam and Dean weren’t going to go say ‘yes’ immediately any more than Gabriel was going to pick a side.  But he’d tried.

And he’d try again if he came up with another idea.  But how to convince humans as stubborn as archangels?

Not even the youngest archangel, the one who’d studied his Father’s creations the most, could figure that one out.

  It was tricky, thanks to Castiel’s Enochian carvings, but using pagan magic, Gabriel kept an eye on the Winchesters that winter, following them from the convention with the prophet – that one, he almost wished he could have seen in person – to the time the kid swapped bodies with Sam. Another amusing one, since Gabriel knew they weren’t in real trouble – Heaven wouldn’t let those teens kill Dean and if they brought Sam to Lucifer, well, that was in Gabriel’s best interest.

He did step in once, when Anna – whom Gabriel remembered as Ananchel, a curious angel he’d once been fond of – decided to kill Sam Winchester.  With some regret, he bound her up in the same sort of prison he held Castiel in.  He knew, someday, he’d have to kill her or let her go, but he couldn’t allow her to interfere in the Apocalypse any more than she already had.

The Winchesters danced through January, unaware of the danger they’d faced from Anna, and into February, when they met Famine on Valentine’s Day.  Without Castiel, they came closer to dying than Gabriel would have liked, but he wasn’t prepared to release his baby brother just yet.  He still needed that leverage against the Winchesters.

When he realized Dean held the rings of two Horsemen, Gabriel began to formulate a plan.

He’d known about the key to the Cage since Lucifer went in and Dad gave the rings to the Horsemen for safe keeping.

He’d just never imagined that humans could take the rings.  But if the Winchesters could depower the Horsemen… well, that would be one big hitch in the ineffable plan.

And if they surprised him even more and tricked one or both of his brothers into the Cage…

Gabriel smiled to himself. It was miniscule, but he was beginning to see a chance for everyone to live.  He just had to see how the Winchesters fared from here on out.  If they gave in like they’d promised, well, that was simply Plan A working.

He pocketed Plan B in case he needed it.

In the meantime, he needed to show up and make some noise because the Winchesters hadn’t kept their promise.  Preferably after Sam detoxed from the demon blood and they were gone from Bobby Singer’s house – that man was just a little too astute for Gabriel’s taste.

 Sam leaned against the window of the Impala, tired to his core.  He finally felt like himself again after three full days of going cold turkey, but he could stand to have another eight hours of sleep.

Dean was anxious, though, not wanting to stay someplace as obvious as Bobby’s house any longer than necessary in case angels or demons were keeping an eye on it.

Billboards passed every mile or so, the only lights on the highway besides the rare car.

KEEP YOUR PROMISES, read one that went by.

Huh.  Odd message but surely it made sense to someone.

The next one said YOU LIED.

Okay, that was weird.

“Did you see those last two billboards?” he asked Dean.

“The one for the Boobie Bungalow and the ‘REPENT NOW’ sign?”

Sam frowned. “No.  The one about promises and the one about lying.”

Dean laughed once. “Think you’re seeing things, Sammy. Get some sleep.”

Keeping quiet after that, Sam kept his eyes peeled for the next sign.

Sure enough, it was a message.  I’M TALKING TO YOU, SAM.

“Dean, that billboard had my name on it,” he said, getting antsy.  In the back of his mind, their lies to the Trickster popped up. Shit.  Were they about to have another run-in with the monster?

LOOK IN THE BACKSEAT.

Sam turned around cautiously and almost startled when he realized it wasn’t empty.

Spread out across the leather bench seat was the Trickster, legs crossed and lollipop hanging from his lips.

“Dean…” Sam said softly.

The Trickster grinned and sat up – silently – before taking the lollipop from his mouth.  “Heya, guys.”

“Fuck!” yelled Dean.  He swerved and almost ran off the road.  Once he got his composure, he glared into the rearview mirror.  “What the hell, Loki?  It was freaky enough when Cas used to do that; I don’t need you making me wreck, too.”

Sam held back a comment. Dean was being quite brash with Loki, but the Trickster hadn’t killed them outright yet, so maybe it was okay.

“Seeing if you guys had forgotten about me,” Loki drawled.  “Seems like you must’ve, since you’re still here and not being ridden by Michael and Lucifer.”

“We’re not yet convinced it’s hopeless,” Sam argued, even though he knew Loki had given them a deadline and they’d blown right past it.

“Uh-huh.  Right.”  Loki popped the lollipop in and out of his mouth between sentences.  The clacking of it against his teeth was making Sam’s skin crawl.  The Trickster was probably doing it on purpose.

He leaned forward and clapped a hand on each brother’s shoulder, squeezing hard enough to hurt. “I recall you boys swore to me you’d say yes by Valentine’s if another solution didn’t present itself and hey, it’s February eighteenth and the Apocalypse is still on the docket.  You wouldn’t have lied to me, would you?”

“We’re not doing a damn thing until you let Cas go,” Dean hissed.  “What have you done with him?”

Sam probably wasn’t supposed to know that Dean had prayed to Cas every night since TV land.  He’d prayed a time or two himself.  He didn’t know if Cas could hear them, but between the two of them, they tried to keep their friend updated.  Tried to let him know he wasn’t forgotten.

They’d spent weeks at first, trying to figure out how to force the Trickster’s hand and make him release Cas.  Of course, they’d come up with nothing.

“Castiel is safe.” The same thing the Trickster had said back in TV land.

“Safe?  Safe? He’s an angel; that could mean you stashed him at the bottom of the ocean and he could be ‘safe.’  What the hell did you do to him?” Dean argued.

Sam wasn’t so sure provoking the Trickster was a good idea and his thoughts were proved right when the air in the car started to get prickly and he could swear he saw Loki’s eyes flash.

“I told you he’s safe,” Loki snapped.  “I didn’t lie, unlike some people in this car.  What happened to your promises?  I ought to drag you to the gates of Heaven and Hell myself.”

There was something in his voice that Sam could just about put his finger on.  He dared to guess.  “But you don’t want to do that, do you?  You want to stay far away from Heaven and Hell, otherwise you would have already done that.”

Loki turned to him sharply and Sam felt the weight of his gaze.  How could such a small guy be so menacing?  “I haven’t done it because I keep the promises I make.  I can’t force you to say ‘yes,’ anyway.  I can just try to convince you it’s the only way.”

“Is it the only way?” Dean cut back in.  “You keep saying that.  Everyone keeps saying that.  But I don’t buy it.  There’s always a way to pull the plug.”

“Yeah.  The plug is being pulled,” said Loki.  “It’s called the Apocalypse.”

Dean glared at the Trickster.  “Still don’t buy it.  Why aren’t you trying to help us, anyway?  You oughta want to keep your schtick going and that’s not gonna be possible when there aren’t any humans left.  You gonna try giving a demon its just desserts?  An angel?”  

Sam appreciated that Dean was using his argument from three months ago, but wasn’t sure how relevant it was now.  Loki had made it pretty clear he wanted them to be the vessels.

There was something weird about his insistence, but Sam hadn’t figured it out yet.

“I might,” said Loki petulantly.  “Some of them deserve more than that.”

Dean snorted.  “That’s for sure.  Buncha self-righteous dicks.  Angels are worse than any human I’ve ever met.”

A queer smile crossed the Trickster’s face.  He let go of their shoulders – finally; Sam’s had started to cramp – and leaned back.  “So they are,” he said.  “But that still doesn’t solve our problem.  What am I going to do with you two?”

“Appreciate our plucky, can-do attitudes?”

Loki actually laughed at that.  “Nice one, Dean.  Wish I could let that be it.”

“Look, we’re going to figure out something,” Sam said.  “Just give us time.”

“While the world suffers from Death walking across it?”  The Trickster pursed his lips and nodded.  “Sure.  Because that’s great for everyone.”

“You can’t tell me you aren’t trying to brainstorm an escape,” Dean said.

Something occurred to Sam. “And you can’t take us again because Michael and Lucifer will eventually come looking for us.  You can’t keep us hidden away forever or you’d have never let us go before.”

The sarcastic expression on Loki’s face turned into another smile.  “Good one, Sam!  You’re as smart as they say you are.  I was beginning to wonder.”

“So if you can’t take us and you can’t give us to Heaven and Hell, why’d you show up?  Think you could put the fear of– of demigod into us?”

“Worth a shot.”  Loki stretched his arms out.  “And don’t be fooled.  Just because I can’t kidnap you again doesn’t mean I can’t make your lives miserable.  Or Castiel’s. Or your friend Bobby’s.”

“Don’t you touch Cas or Bobby,” snapped Dean, turning a little to face Loki.  “Or we’ll see what an angel blade does to a Trickster.”

“Less than you’d like,” Loki said lightly.  “It might itch a bit.”

“Sure.”  Dean reset his grip on the steering wheel.  “Haven’t met a thing yet it won’t hurt.”

“Well, now you have.” Loki entwined his fingers behind his head and leaned back against them.  “So we’re at a standoff now.  Either you go say yes, or I start playing tricks on everyone you know.”

“No,” said Sam.  He didn’t know why he felt the Trickster wouldn’t really hurt them – if he could, he would have already, surely – but he was certain of it.  Certain enough to argue.  “We’re going to keep figuring out a way to stop all this and you’re going to help us or get out of our way.”

“Oh, am I?”  The air prickled a bit again.

Sam held his ground. “You are.  Because otherwise we’re going to let the real big dogs know where they can find a Norse God who thinks he can play both sides.”

Loki’s eyes flashed again, all humor gone.  “You don’t know where I am,” he said defensively.  “I’m not even really in this car with you.”

Sam wasn’t sure he bought that, either.  “You think they couldn’t find you?  That’s all of Heaven and all of Hell searching for one little god.  My money’s on them.”

“Try me,” seethed Loki before he disappeared suddenly.

“Well that was fun,” said Dean after a minute.  “Empty threats from the Trickster.  Still think he’s all that powerful?”

Sam frowned.  “We know he is.  It’s obvious he’s more powerful than most demons we’ve met.  We just don’t know how he’ll stack up against angels.”

Dean laughed.  “Sure we don’t.  He as much as told us they’ll fry his ass.  He’s scared of the sons of bitches.”

“Right.”  Sam wasn’t so sure about that.  There was a lot of things about Loki that didn’t add up.  He didn’t act like the other pagan gods they’d met.  As far as they knew, he just snacked on sugar, not humans, for one.  He seemed strangely interested in the two of them, for another.  “So are we just going to keep going until he comes back with a real vengeance or are we going to consider saying yes?”

Dean shot him a look. “Are you crazy?  We’re not saying yes, no matter what.  We’re not playing their game.  Or his game.  Not anymore.”

Sam nodded and went back to watching out the window.  Hopefully Dean was right and they’d figure something out soon.

In the backseat of the Impala, unseen by Sam or Dean, Loki grinned.

  The letter in Gabriel’s hands burned around the edges without consuming the paper.

Ah, Kali, always a show-off. She wasn’t a light-hearted about it, but it was no wonder Loki – well, Gabriel in full Loki mode – had once fallen for her.  They had more in common than Kali would ever admit.

A gathering of pagans, she’d said.  Loki wasn’t officially invited, but Kali wanted him to show up anyway.

Something deep inside Gabriel told him this was all a bad idea.  Getting pagans together was asking for a battle to break out.  And then Kali telling him about it on the sly…

Well, things with Kali hadn’t ended that well and he’d heard she was with Baldur now – Baldur, who loathed Loki with a fiery passion.  As much as Gabriel would like to see Kali again, this was just fishy.

And then the letter said they were going to trap the Winchesters and use them as bargaining chips–

Yeah, that wasn’t a bad idea at all.  Wasn’t suspicious, either.

Gabriel did something dangerous and exerted some archangelic power to pop into the future – a future where he attended the meeting – and watched it play out.

Faked deaths.  Blood spells.  Slaughter of the pagans.

And Kali had known he was Gabriel when she invited him.

With a deep sigh, he plopped into his armchair.  Walking into a huge trap like that was just stupid and Gabriel wasn’t stupid.  If he didn’t interfere, though, the pagans would all die at Lucifer’s hands.  The Winchesters would be captured by his brother and Sam forced to say yes.

Going would end up interfering with his brother’s war and break his promise to Loki.  Staying back would let Lucifer get the high hand.  

Whistling for Max, Gabriel reached down and helped the dog jump into his lap.  He scratched behind the dog’s ears.  “This is a trap for all of us,” he told the dog wistfully.  “Kali doesn’t know she’s going to her death, though. If I go, I break my promise and reveal myself to Lucifer.  What do I do?”

Max gave a happy yip and flopped on his side.

Unable to help his smile, Gabriel said, “Lying low and letting it happen might be the smart thing, but it won’t be easy.  Those guys were my family for centuries.”

The dog just craned his neck for more scratches.

Gabriel thought for a while.  He still had Castiel.  He could let him loose now, with the instruction to divert the Winchesters and keep them from stopping at the hotel at all.  Castiel had enough power to break through any of the pagan’s beckoning spells.

But what good would that do, except to delay the inevitable?

The thought of the Horsemen’s rings danced in his head again.  Dean kept two rings in his pocket.  Pestilence was out there, getting ready to make his move.  Death was tethered to Lucifer and mightily unhappy about it.  There was the chance the humans could get those rings, one way or another.  Gabriel just had to tell them how to use them.

That would be picking a side, though.  Was he ready for that?

It was the side of humanity, though.  Not Michael’s side or Lucifer’s side.  He’d be setting himself up against all his brothers.  But humanity was what Dad asked them to choose in the first place, right.

And anyway, Castiel had made that choice.  If a little seraph could stand against Heaven, surely a rogue archangel could, too.

Right, then. Gabriel knew what choice he had to make. How to execute it, though?

  Another stranger walked up to Castiel as he slumped against the walls of his prison.  It’d been at least a week since the Trickster’s last visit – or at least a visit from the Trickster’s creations.

This time, the creation was a child, a young girl.  “Castiel,” it said.  “It’s time to go.”

Castiel didn’t even look up.  “You’re finally going to kill me?”

“No, it’s time to go free. The Winchesters need you.  The Trickster needs you.”  The little girl sat down in front of Castiel.  “He told you that he’d let you go eventually.”

“The Trickster has told me nothing,” Castiel growled. “Just figments of his imagination sent to torture me.”

The little girl laughed. “Torture?  Oh, Castiel, you know torture and you know this isn’t it. You’ve been in Heaven’s prison before, haven’t you?  At least here there was no brainwashing.”

Well, that was true. The Trickster didn’t have a Naomi to probe Castiel’s brain.  “What do you want from me?”

“You’re going to keep the Winchesters from stopping at a certain hotel,” the little girl said. “And you’re going to give them this.” She handed him a DVD case.

CASA EROTICA 13, read the cover.  A blonde in lingerie posed under the title.

“What is this?”

“Porn,” said the girl matter-of-factly.  “It’s a good one.  You might learn something if you watch it.”

Castiel knew the girl was simply an extension of the Trickster’s powers, but hearing that come from a child’s mouth was slightly disturbing.

The little girl started giving instructions, detailed enough that Castiel had no questions what he was being asked to do.  He just didn’t know why.

“Why can’t they stop at the hotel?”

The little girl gave him a look.  “Because they’ll be in danger if they do.  Lucifer will find them.”

Oh.  Well, okay.  Avoiding Lucifer would be good.  Castiel knew from Sam’s prayers that he was nowhere near close to saying yes, but that Dean had come close enough to run off on a ‘farewell tour’. Thankfully, Sam had found him and stopped him, even though it meant Sam and Bobby had locked Dean up in Bobby’s panic room.

Dean had come around, though, and they were headed east from Sioux Falls right now.

The Trickster wanted him to pop into their car and make them drive past this Elysian Hotels place, then give them the DVD at the next motel they found.

Did he trust that this wasn’t one of the Trickster’s lessons?  That Castiel wasn’t delivering Sam and Dean straight into the archangels’ hands?

“Stop thinking that,” the little girl said.  “The Trickster keeps his word when he gives it.  He isn’t lying to you now.”

Castiel still wasn’t sure, but he didn’t have much of a choice at the moment.  He could believe the Trickster and be set free or he could continue to stay here, with only Jimmy as company.

“Okay,” said Castiel gruffly.  “I’ll do it.”

The little girl beamed. “Good!  Ready to go?”

Castiel struggled to his feet.  “Yes.”

“Good.  Remember, the Winchesters are on I-90 now, about to be sent on a detour near the Wisconsin Dells.”

Castiel nodded. Before he’d finished the motion, though, he found himself standing on an interstate exit in the dark in the pouring rain.

He checked his coat pocket and yes, there was his phone.

Time to call Dean.

  Gabriel followed Castiel on his TV screen and breathed a sigh of relief when the Impala drove right past the Elysian Fields Hotel.

He’d done his part, right? He’d given the Winchesters the DVD – and if they watched it, they’d find out how to close the Cage again, hopefully with Lucifer inside.

The thought made Gabriel shudder.  Lucifer had already been trapped by himself for millennia.  Was it cruel to trap him again?  Would Michael try to break in – or would he go after the Winchesters to get the key?

Gabriel didn’t know. At some point in the past, before Dad left, he might have been able to predict Michael’s actions, but it’d been centuries since he skipped out of Heaven.  Gabriel had changed.  Surely Michael had, too.

There really was no telling how things would go, even if the Winchesters trapped Lucifer again. The wise thing to do would be to go to ground now and not emerge until it was over.  Let things fall out as they may – for the pagans, for humanity.

Gabriel was a wise being. Loki was not.

Which one was he these days?

  Sam, Dean, and Cas huddled around Sam’s laptop in the Briggsviille motel room, watching the opening of CASA EROTICA 13.

“The Trickster wanted you to bring this to us?” Sam asked, confused.  Nothing about the DVD seemed out of the ordinary.

“Maybe he’s a fan,” Dean said.  “It is a good one.”

Sam and Cas gave Dean a look.

“Wait,” Dean said, pausing the DVD.  “Look.”

There, on the paused screen, was Loki, dressed in a ridiculous mustache and waiter’s uniform.

“He gave you porn that he’s in?” Dean asked, incredulous.  “Dude’s crazier than I thought.”

Cas huffed.  “He didn’t tell me he was in it.”

“Guys, maybe there’s more to it,” Sam said, though he wasn’t sure himself.  He hit the space bar, unpausing the DVD.

“I’ve got the kielbasa you ordered.”

“Ooh.  Polish?”

“Hungarian.”

They watched as Loki started making out with the woman.  Sam grimaced and noticed everyone looking away.  That was not what they wanted to see.

Suddenly, the moans and kisses stopped.  Loki turned to the screen and, incredibly, started talking to them.

“Sam.  Dean. Castiel.  You’re probably wondering what the hell is going on. Well, if you’re watching this, I’ve picked a side.”

“’Bout time,” Dean grumbled.

“Humanity’s got the short straw in this fight.  And you’re right, I don’t want to see the fight happen.  I’ve got my reasons, but… well.  They don’t really matter.  What matters is that I’m betting on you three to stop the Apocalypse.”

How, Sam wondered. How could they stop it when the Trickster had spent so much time trying to convince them otherwise?

“You’ve got zero shot at killing Lucifer. Sorry!  But you can trap him.  The Cage you sprung Lucifer from?  It’s still down there.  And maybe – just maybe – you can shove his ass back in.  Not that it’ll be easy.  You gotta get the Cage open, trick the devil back into it.  And, uh, oh yeah: avoid Michael and the God Squad. But hey, details, right?”

Cas scoffed.  “This is impossible.”

“Here’s the big secret that Lucifer himself doesn’t even know – the key to the Cage?  It’s out there.  Actually, it’s keys, plural.  Four keys – well, four rings.  From the Horsemen.  You get ‘em all, you got the Cage.  Think you can handle that?”

Loki looked sad for a moment.  “Probably not.  But hey, I’ve been wrong before.  And so far, everyone has underestimated you at their peril.  So go get ‘em, tigers.”

There was a key to the Cage and they had two of the four parts already.  Sam tried to let that sink in, almost not noticing as Loki turned back to the girl in the DVD and started disrobing.

“Oh, ugh,” said Dean, slamming the laptop shut.

“I didn’t know there was a key,” Cas said.

“How did the Trickster know?” Sam wondered.

“He knows more than he should,” Cas said.  He reached over and picked up the DVD case, closing his eyes in concentration. “There’s pagan magic here.  That’s all I can feel.  If I could meet the Trickster in person…”

“Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth, okay?” Dean said.  “We’ve got War and Famine’s rings.  That’s two down.  Collect all four?  All we need is Pestilence and Death.”

“Oh, is that all?” Sam asked, rolling his eyes.  They could probably get to Pestilence if he was on the same level as War and Famine. But Death?  How could anyone mortal defeat Death?

“It’s a plan,” said Dean defensively.  “It’s the only plan we got.”

“What do we do now?”

“Turn around,” Dean said. “Get this to Bobby.  He can help us make it a better plan.”

Sam couldn’t argue with that.  Maybe Bobby would have an idea how to find Pestilence and Death in the first place, much less defeat them.  They’d been lucky before, stumbling upon War and Famine like they did.  There was no guarantee they’d find the other two through cases.

“First, we gotta sleep, though,” Dean said.  “We’ve had what, maybe three or four hours this week?  Time to crash.  Cas, you keep watch.”

The angel nodded and stood by the motel room door, motionless.  It was weird, but Sam had started to get used to the fact that angels didn’t need sleep.  He moved to the other bed and flopped out, spread-eagle.  Having an actual pillow – crappy as it was – under his head made him relax and soon he was drifting off.

  Loki was not wise – and apparently Gabriel was more Trickster than archangel these days.

He hung out outside the ballroom doors, waiting for the dramatic moment, because if he didn’t make a dramatic entrance, he wasn’t Loki.

Well, pretending to be Loki.

“Who asked you?” came Kali’s voice through the doors.  

Yeah, this was his moment.

Gabriel slammed the doors open with a gesture and sashayed in.

“Can’t we all just get along?” he asked sassily.  Every face in the room turned to him, glaring.  Yeah, Loki had not left on good terms.

“Loki,” glowered Baldur.

“Baldur!” he said happily. “Good seeing you, too!  I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.”

“Why are you here?” Baldur asked.

“To talk about the elephant in the room.”

Ganesh began to stand and Gabriel pointed at him, rolling his eyes.  “Not you.  The Apocalypse.  We can’t stop it, gang.”

“Of course we can,” said Kali, practically purring.  “If we fight together, the archangels can’t stand against us.”

Kali had never been this naïve in the past.  Too bad Gabriel knew it was an act or he might feel bad for her.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was here for her.  He felt bad even though she was going to try to kill him.

Baldur cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should disband for a bit while we sort out our… unwelcome guest.”

“Yes,” said Gabriel, sardonically.  “Why don’t you do that?  Check what Daddy says to do with your black sheep brother.”  He grinned at Odin, who grumbled something under his breath.

Mercury stood, wiping the blood from his chin.  He clapped his hands together.  “We’ll meet back here in ten?  Better to stop now and eat while the food’s still fresh.”

Kali breezed past Gabriel towards the doors.  With a waggle of his eyebrows at Baldur, Gabriel spun and followed her.

She kept her room dark, like always.  As if she didn’t know Gabriel was following her, she started undressing.

Gabriel could play this game.  With a thought, he lit the candles on her table and manifested a rose in his hands. “Bonjour, mon amour.”

Kali looked at him in the mirror.  “Leave,” she stated.

He knew she didn’t mean it. “You always did play hard to get,” he purred.

“I’ve moved on,” she said, turning around.  Gabriel’s eyes were drawn to the chain of silver skulls around her waist.  He knew that if she manifested her true form, those would be real skulls.

He always had enjoyed dancing with danger.

“I noticed.”  Gabriel raised his eyebrows.  “Baldur?  Really?”

“Baldur’s uncomplicated,” she replied.

“Oh come on,” he said. “Baldur’s a pretty idiot.  Always has been.  It’s why I killed him.”

She looked at him.  “I never took you for the type.”

“Romantic?”

“Pathetic.”

Gabriel tried not to laugh. “You’re the one who called me here.”

“Because I thought you might take this seriously.”

Gabriel gestured with the rose as he spoke.  “I’m taking this seriously!  Ship’s sinking.  Time to get off.  I mean, screw this marble.  Let’s go check out Pandora.”  The fictional planet didn’t exist, but he could create it, protect himself and Kali both while Earth sorted itself out.

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Kali argued.

His hopeful face fell. “I’m afraid it does.”

“If we fight–”

“You die.”

“And what makes you such an expert?” she challenged.

I know my brothers.  I know our power.  “I’ve tussled with those winged ass-monkeys once or twice.  Kali, no more tricks,” he said seriously.  “I’m begging you, don’t do this.”

“I have to,” she said.

And that was the Kali he still loved – a fighter to the end.  “Can’t blame me for trying.  Still love me?”

“No.”  Her face didn’t change.

Gabriel’s did.  He softened his look into an ‘I know better’ expression.  It worked. Kali reached out and grabbed him, pulling him in for a kiss.

Oh, she was still just as good at this as he remembered.

Suddenly, Kali pushed him away and he felt a scratch along his jawline.  She held up her fingers, covered in his blood.

“Ow!” he protested, knowing this was the beginning of the end.

“You must take me for a fool,” she said, voice low and menacing.  “Gabriel, you’re bound to me.  Now and forever.”

Gabriel’s heart sunk. He’d known this was coming, had seen it, but he’d still hoped that maybe if the Winchesters weren’t here…

Oh, who was he kidding? He knew and he walked into this trap willingly.

“Kali, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he argued.

“Stop insulting me, Gabriel. I don’t know where the real Loki is, but you aren’t him and you never have been.  You’re an archangel and you’re here to infiltrate our plan.”

“No, I’m not!  I’m trying to save you,” protested Gabriel.

Kali didn’t say anything. She dressed again, turned, and walked out of the room again.

This time, Gabriel followed because he had to – he felt the pull of her blood spell deep inside him, impossible to resist.

Oh, he was in trouble.

She led him back into the ballroom and made him sit at the head of the table.  All the gods watched curiously.

“How long have you known?” Gabriel asked.  What had given him away?

“Long enough.”  Okay, so she wasn’t going to let on.  She looked at the rest of the room and spoke louder. “Well, surprise, surprise.  The Trickster has tricked us.”

“Kali, don’t,” begged Gabriel.  If he got outed, his whole deal with Loki was nullified.  For all he knew, Loki would betray him to his family as soon as he found out.

“You’re mine now,” she said, lowering herself into his lap.  “And you have something I want.”

Gabriel knew what was coming.  Imperceptibly, he duplicated himself, leaving the fake Gabriel in the chair with Kali, while Gabriel was as far away as he could get, a few rooms over.

Kali reached inside the fake’s jacket and pulled out an angel blade.  A fake one Gabriel kept around for moments like this.  “An archangel’s blade,” she continued, standing up again.  “From the archangel Gabriel.”

A murmur went around the room.  Apparently no one but Kali had known about Gabriel.

“Okay, okay!  So I got wings – like Kotex,” the fake said.  “But that doesn’t make me any less right about Lucifer.”

“He’s lying.  He’s a spy,” accused Kali.

“I’m not a spy,” protested the fake.  “I’m a runaway.  I’m trying to save you.  I know my brother, Kali.  He should scare the living crap out of you.  You can’t beat him.  I’ve skipped ahead, seen how this story ends–”

Kali cut him off.  “Your story.  Not ours. Westerners, I swear, the sheer arrogance!  You think you’re the only ones on Earth?  You pillage and you butcher in your God’s name.  But you’re not the only religion and he’s not the only God.  And now you think you can just rip the planet apart? You’re wrong.  There are billions of us and we were here first.  If anyone gets to end this world, it’s me.”  She looked at him piteously.  “I’m sorry.”

Gabriel winced as she stabbed the fake him in the heart with the fake blade.  He made sure to put on a good show, with light coming from the fake’s eyes and mouth.  Just in case she thought to check, he left her a clue that he wasn’t really gone – there were no burnt wing-prints.

Conversation continued in the room as Kali pointed out that archangels could die and now they had the weapon that could do it.

Gabriel just slumped down on the bed, waiting for the inevitable.

  Screams echoed through the hotel as Lucifer made his way to the ballroom.

Gabriel hung his head, knowing that Loki was going to blame him for this, even though he was here to try and save everyone.

If only they’d listened.

He was stuck here, though. Kali had him by the short and curlies with that blood spell.  If Lucifer killed her, though, he could get out of here.

But could he stand to listen to her being killed?  She’d betrayed him, but still…

Still a part of Gabriel loved her.  He loved all of the bastards that Lucifer was killing, but Kali especially.

So when he felt Kali try to burn Lucifer and fail, he knew what he needed to do.

This might literally kill him, but he had no choice.  He teleported back into the ballroom.

Lucifer raised his foot to stomp on Kali, but Gabriel shoved a hand out, blowing Lucifer through the doors and into the hallway.

“Luci, I’m ho-ome,” he said, sing-song.  

Lucifer stood slowly, barely reacting to the fact that Gabriel was there.  Then again, he’d been in the cage so long, maybe he hadn’t known that Gabriel left Heaven.

Lurching forward, Lucifer tried to push Gabriel back with his own power.

“Not this time,” Gabriel said.  He reached down and helped Kali stand.  “Lucifer, we’re leaving and you’re going to let us.  Surely you’ve spilled enough blood tonight, even for you.”

“Gabriel, really?  All this for a girl?  A pagan?  I mean, I knew you were slumming, but I hope you didn’t catch anything.”

Yeah, that was his brother. Gabriel smiled a little.  “Lucifer, you’re my brother and I love you, but you are a great big bag of dicks.”

Lucifer frowned.  “Wait, what did you just say to me?”

Gabriel shuffled around the room, circling his brother and trusting that Kali was staying behind him. “You heard me.  Look at yourself!  Boo hoo, Daddy was mean to me, so I’m gonna smash  up all his toys.”

“Watch your tone,” warned Lucifer.

The doors opened behind him and Gabriel heard Kali run down the hall, jumping over the bodies.  He expected to feel the blood spell pull on him, but it didn’t.

She was going to let him sacrifice himself, wasn’t she?

Too bad Gabriel wasn’t going to do that.

“Play the victim all you want,” he said to Lucifer.  “But you and me?  We know the truth.  Dad loved you best – more than Michael, more than me.  Then he brought the new baby home and you couldn’t handle it.  So this is all just one big temper tantrum.  Time to grow up.”

“Gabriel, if you’re doing this for Michael–”

“Screw him.  If he were standing here, I’d shiv his ass too.” Gabriel glanced behind him.  “But you know what?  Today’s your lucky day.  I’m not going to fight you.”

“Scared?” taunted Lucifer.

“Sane,” countered Gabriel. Before Lucifer could grab onto him, he zapped himself out to the parking lot, where Kali waited, shivering in the light rain.

“Get us out of here,” she instructed.

“Oh sure,” Gabriel said. “No ‘sorry for trying to kill you’ or ‘thanks for saving me?’”

She glared and he knew that was the best he was going to get.

“Fine,” he sighed and reached out for her hand.  The quickest and easiest place to escape to was–

–his apartment.  

Max barked at the newcomer. Gabriel shushed him while Kali looked around disdainfully.

“You brought me here?” she asked.  “This is tacky.”

Gabriel grinned.  “Yeah.  Like it?”

She glared at him.

He held her gaze, refusing to back down.  “Where do you want me to take you?” he asked.  “I’ll drop you off anywhere once you undo this spell.”

“I shouldn’t,” Kali said. “I should make you my tame archangel.”

For the first time in a very long time, Gabriel let his archangelic power well up in him, turning his eyes blue and making the lights flicker.  “That wouldn’t be wise,” he warned.  “You’ve seen how easy it was for my brother to destroy the rest of you. Think of what I could do to you.”

Kali actually looked shaken. “Fine,” she said and waved her hands.

Gabriel felt the blood bond dissipate.  Lucifer must have really scared her.  If only she’d listened to him in the first place.

“Where to?” he asked, purposefully keeping his tone serious.

“Kalighat Kali?” she said.

Her temple.  Seat of her power.  Made sense.

Gabriel gestured to the door.  “Be careful.”

She opened the door, the temple appearing behind her.  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Like you care,” Gabriel said.  She didn’t respond and he sighed.  “Lay low. Try not to watch my brothers kill each other.”

She nodded and left, closing the door behind her.

Gabriel stood there for a moment, silent, until Max trotted up to him.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, leaning down to pet the dog.  “Looks like it’s going to be just you and me here for a long while.”

Concentrating, Gabriel made the door disappear, fortifying the walls between this pocket universe and the real one out there.

Maybe, just maybe, that’d be enough to keep safe until after the Apocalypse was over.

In the meantime, he always had the TV.

There was just one channel and everything was on.