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prentissluvr · 3 months

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literary parallels — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : light angst, fluff ➖⟢ cw : small injuries, few seconds of physical fighting (self-defense), no use of y/n, you have a dad and i gave him a name (rick lol), mentions of death of loved ones, sort of case fic, kinda ignores canon timeline in terms of a few minor things but canon doesn't matter much in this fic lol, poorly edited most likely ➖⟢ wc : 3.6K summary : sam is someone from your past at stanford university, and the last place you expect to see him again is on a case. that's exactly where you find him. i plan on doing a part two for this one in the future! :))

today is one of those days where the reality of your life feels strange, unwelcome, and somewhat foreign. it’s not as if you’re new to the hunting life; it’s just the opposite, and yet, you often feel removed from it, especially after having lived normally at college for a few years. but you were ripped back into hunting without being able to finish your degree by your father after the death of your closest cousin.

so now you’re cooped up in a crappy motel room searching endlessly through detailed lore websites and the few books you have on you, trying to make sense of the odd patterns of killings in the small california town. that’s part of the pit in your stomach for today; the beach town, cayucos, is only three hours from stanford.

being so close to your former university after almost a whole year brings back a whole lot of mixed feelings. mostly longing for the normalcy that you loved and lost, but also a renewed urgency to find what killed your cousin. she had been studying at a different college just an hour inland from you. when she died, you had wanted to salt and burn her body and move on. but when your father showed up with proof of odd circumstances, he pursuaded you to rejoin him in the hunting life.

the deaths in cayucos are certainly odd, but they lack the defining features that would allow you to identify the creature at fault. so, you’re searching for anything with a grudge against hot men and a killing cycle of seven years since those are about the only patterns so far. your dad is at the coroner’s office, meeting with an old hunter friend to check out the body of the latest victim.

that’s been another reminder of your brief time at a normal school with normal friends and normal hobbies. when your dad first told you he called in a friend to help, he’d asked you, “d’you remember john winchester? you met him once when you were a kid, he’s an old buddy of mine.” you shook your head and he shrugged, saying something about how it makes sense; you were young and only met him once. but the name stuck in your mind as he left, and it had nothing to do with hunting or when you were a kid on the road, stuck in motels, school if you were there long enough, or the town library if you were lucky.

that name, or the last name anyway, comes from the stanford part of your life, the one you keep cherished in the most protected corners of your heart. sam winchester was one of your few friends during your time there, and after hearing his family name spoken aloud, he’s floating through your mind all day.

he disappeared after jess, his girlfriend and one of your other few friends, died, mere weeks before your own cousin died and you left standford as well. you’ve always wondered what happened to him, the best conclusion you could come to being that he couldn’t bear her death. they were absolutely in love with each other, but you know jess would have wanted him to finish at stanford, then head to that law school he was bound to get that full-ride to. sam always had an air of strength about him, so it surprised you when you never saw him again. he wasn’t even at her funeral, and to this day, that’s your singular bone to pick with him.

but, you can’t afford to think about him too much as you search for answers about the case. abandoning the lore websites for the meantime, you look over the police records of all the deaths that you can find, hoping to draw together any more patterns that you can use to narrow down your research. you’re jotting down a few notes, thinking you may have found something regarding accounts of a few of the men being last seen with a woman, when your train of thought is interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.

on instinct, you draw your gun as you cross the room, looking through the peephole and silently cursing when you realize the light out front has gone out. all you can make out is the tall, broad silluete of a man thanks to the dimness of the twighlight sky.

you wait for a moment at the door, hoping he’ll just walk away after he doesn’t get an answer. but you’re unlucky, and he knocks again before calling out, “hello? rick sent me here to … help with the case, he said his kid was here. i’m john winchester’s son, sam.”

if you were in an old-timey cartoon, your jaw would’ve dropped to the floor. sam … sam winchester. it sounds just like him. trying to keep your head, you swap your gun for a nearby canteen of holy water and slip a silver knife into your pocket for accessibility. it’s too much of a coincidence for you to believe it.

you crack the door, just enough for him to hear you a bit better. “sam winchester? like stanford full-ride, lawyboy sam winchester?”

“i– how do you–” there’s a moment of silence, and you know that he’s piecing together the few clues he has; your voice and the last name you must share with your dad, the man he knows as rick. his voice is just as cautious as yours as he says your name like he can’t really believe it.

for a moment, you stop thinking when you hear his voice saying your name after so long, and you throw open the door and let him in. the light from the motel room finally illuminates his face, and it’s him, it’s really him. and the moment you think that is the moment you realize that could absolutely not be the case.

the second he turns to you from closing the door, you’re splashing holy water in his face so fast you barely catch the look he was about to give you; eyes so full of surprise and wonder and confusion and something akin to joy. you react quickly to his lack of reaction besides the normal surprise at getting splashed in the face, slashing at his arm with your silver knife to finish testing him. but he reacts just as fast as you, grabbing both of your wrists, spinning you around and pinning you to the flat surface of the door.

his hold is quite strong, but he doesn’t have the time to bear his full weight into holding you down before you react, so you’re able to manuever out of his hold with practiced ease. you lift one arm up as you yank the other down to make it so you’re able to slip down and to the side, out of his hold. then you’ve got a strong hand to his back, shoving him face-first against the door and your other arm bringing your knife to his throat.

the thought that his profile view with his pulled-taut eyebrows and the grimace on his mouth looks pretty has the audacity to float up to the forefront of your mind before you can squash it down. the whole struggle had taken mere seconds, and he resigns the minute you’ve got him pinned down.

“it’s me,” he pants, “i swear. ‘m not a shapeshifter or ghoul or anything, it was just instinct. sorry,” he explains quickly, “go ahead, test me.”

you debate saying “don’t mind if i do,” but decide that you don’t have to be teasing or snarky about it. instead, you tamp down your hesitance to hurt him, even a little bit because he still sort of feels like innocent, regular, lawboy sam to you, and you draw a thin line of blood at the spot where his neck slopes into his broad shoulder. there’s no burning, just a normal wince from his mouth, so you loosen your hold on him and step back, internally cringing at the small bit of blood beginning to slip down towards his collarbone.

“sorry,” you say, far more sincere than you would be if it’d been anybody else. this is the norm for hunters, but you haven’t quite wrapped your mind around the fact that sam is a hunter. you’d never once would have guessed, though you suppose that was the point. you had done everything you could to hide that part of your life during your time at stanford.

“it’s fine,” he gives you an awkward half-smile, just as sincere as you. “just, y’know, your turn.” you’d been so busy taking in the sight of him standing there, looking almost exactly the same, but not quite, as he had in college, that you forgot about the courtesy of testing yourself too.

“right,” you clear your throat, “of course.” without the hesitance any normal person would have, you take the knife to your forearm and splash a bit of holy water on your skin. “there we go. no demons or shapeshifters or the like. that’s good.” you feel incredibly awkward all of the sudden, still so bewildered and thrown off balance by the collision of your two words. it feels like too much of a coincidence for you to be this close to your old school, be thinking about sam winchester, a symbol of that old life, then for him to show up and flip your whole entire understanding of him. there’s just about a million things running through your mind at just about a million miles per hour and it’s starting to make your head hurt.

the movement of his hand, reaching up to hold the small cut you gave him is what brings you out of your short lived reverie.

“god, i’m sorry. let me get you something for that.” you don’t give him the time to politely tell you, “no, it’s okay,” like you know he would before you’ve turned your back and crossed the room to grab a first aid kit from your bag and some rubbing alcohol from the bathroom. “sit down,” you urge him when you turn back to him, motioning towards the table you’d been seated at when he arrived.

he complies and once again, you’re thinking about the strangeness of sharing this sort of space with him. you’re used to seeing him in libraries so big that they’re almost grand for quiet study sessions or in the dining hall with his nose buried in a book or in the lecture hall where you first met him in a gen-ed class. you’re used to seeing him on one of the grassy quads with jess by his side or him in the big, open, and fancy old university buildings. now he looks right at home in the dingy motel room, so small it feels like his tall, broad frame shouldn’t fit in here, so dim that his sometimes blue or green eyes look sort of muddy. they’re pretty, nonetheless.

you set the first aid kit on the table and pull out a large bandaid and a bit of gauze. you reasses the cut to be sure he doesn’t need any other sort of bandaging and almost sigh in relief when you see how shallow it is. sam doesn’t speak or protest that he’s fine to do it himself as you pull the collar of his t-shirt aside just a bit. you’re sure his mind’s busy with a whole load of questions for you, just like you for him. the brush of your knuckles against his skin suddenly makes his presence feel more real. whatever contact you’d had during the short-lived fight you’d had was completely surreal; you weren’t sure he was really even sam, and if he was, it would feel like a lie anyways, for his hands to be rough or so quick in a fight.

he doesn’t so much as wince when you press alcohol soaked gauze to the cut, and though the wound is small and shallow enough that you’re sure it barely stings, it still feels like a sign of his being a hunter, being used to pain. you don’t like that thought; sweet, sincere, and ever so smart sam being used to pain. as you take care of the cut, he lets his eyes wander around the room, probably taking in how familiar it is, and how weird that it’s your motel room and all of your belongings packed into a single bag and your computer screen displaying hacked into police reports and the very same lore websites he frequents to solve a tricky case.

when you’re done he thanks you with a small smile and you take the seat across from him. as your fingers had brushed over his bare skin and felt a whisper of his strong shoulders, you’d gotten the strong urge to hug him. you missed him even more than you thought. that urge doesn’t leave when you move away from him.

you make a confused face at sam when he reaches for the first aid kit and pulls out another set of bandaids and gauze. he just hands you a gauze now soaked with alcohol and nods at you.

“for your arm,” he explains, because you’ve already forgotten about that as you accept it with a questioning brow.

“right,” you chuckle softly, swiping over the cut with the gauze, then taking and applying the bandaid that sam opened for you. when you’re done you have to drag your eyes up to meet sam’s gaze. there’s tension in the room, and though it’s not bad per se, it’s begging to be addressed and you’re not sure how to even start. it seems like sam’s not sure either.

so, you choose to jump right into the fire.

“it’s so good to see you, sam,” you confess, pushing all your sincerity into your voice, “i mean, this is absolutely insane and i can’t quite wrap my mind around it, but i guess i don’t really care because it’s so good to see you. i worried about you so much after … after jess died, i mean, you just dissappeared and … and i can imagine that has something to do with the fact that you’re a hunter, which is sort of incomprehensible to me, but–,” suddenly you’re hit with a new realization. if sam’s disappearance had to do with the supernatural, you wonder if jess’s death did too. but you don’t want to ask, not right now. “oh, god, and i never got to tell you how sorry i am. i– i mean. i can’t imagine.” there’s where your voice trails off and you look to sam to be the one to say something now.

“thanks,” he answers simply, voice gentle but a little pained, rightfully so. “she was your friend, too. i mean, we were all friends. and i’m sorry i disappeared like that. i, um, well, you’re right. hunting dragged me away. it’s complicated and i’ll explain it to you later. you deserve to know what happened to jess, but– but it’s a lot.” a moment of silence allows that to sink in; so something did happen to her, something more than just faulty electrical wiring in her apartment. sam’s genuine as he goes on, “and it’s great to see you too, really. it’s so strange, i mean all of this, obviously, but it’s even stranger how close we are to stanford. i was already thinking about it, about you all on the way over, and the next thing i know, you’re the suspicious hunter throwing holy water in my face.”

you cringe a little at that, but sam smiles a little wider than he has all night. “that’s a good thing,” he half-laughs, “i don’t care how weird this coincidence is, i’m glad for it.” his hand twitches, almost as if he’d wanted to reach over and grab your hand, but thought better of it before it could happen. “i gotta ask, did you finish your degree?” the way he asks is so hopeful, and you immediately know how much he wants the answer to be yes. he’s thinking, if i couldn’t finish, please tell me at least one of us could. that one of us poor and foolish hunter kids who thought we could escape managed to long enough to finish a degree, prove that we could make something of ourselves in the normal world. it would be so nice to see that, if it couldn’t be me, it could be somebody, it could be you.

his face falls a little when he registers the sad smile on your face. your expression is more than enough of an answer, and the fact that he wanted so badly for you to have made it makes your heart break a little, for both him and you. we deserved better, you think.

“just about the same thing happened to me,” you begin to explain, “you remember my cousin, bex?” sam nods, recalling the way the two of you acted like siblings the few times he met her, how much you liked alike when you smiled, already sad for what he suspects he might hear. “she died a few weeks after jess. she and i both grew up hunting, and we both thought we got out of it, at least for a little while. we almost lasted all four years … i didn’t think there was anything weird with her death, but … my dad showed me proof of just that at her funeral, convinced me to come back to hunting with him. she was– she was hiding something, and, honestly i’m still not sure what happened. progress on her case has been slow. real slow, so we’ve been working on others in the meantime. keeping busy, you know.”

“oh, i know,” sam sighs, and you completely believe him. you wonder for a moment what bigger things he’s digging into before deciding it’s best if the two of you stick to what’s in front of you. if you go too deep, having each other, a new kind of steady presence from better times, might start feeling too unreal again.

you want to preserve this delicate balance, where sam is still stanford sam and you’re still stanford you, but now there’s just a deeper understanding of each other. a knowing of what it’s like to grow up with a hunter for a father, to want to get away from it all, to want a sense of normalcy, and to want to learn and become something more and say “screw you!” to all of the expections. and on top of that, knowing how it feels to get so close to the finish line, only to have it ripped out of your hands like you’re a child who’s parents think they’ve had too much candy. only it’s far worse than a half eaten lollipop in the trash because people that you love died, and it was all so much more than just chasing after a momentary sugar high.

“i’m sorry about bex,” sam says, this time actually reaching out and placing his hand on yours for a moment. his voice is as full of empathy and sincerity as ever. “she was amazing the few times i met her. i could see how close you two were.”

“thanks, sam.” you give him a small smile because those words feel so much better coming from him than just about anyone else. with that, the air seems to settle a little, and it’s far more bearable. you’ve still got a hundred and one questions to ask and a hundred and one more things to say to each other, but to find out you have this near-exact shared experience is like having so much of the weight of loneliness lifted from your chest. and it all feels even better because you know sam. you know him already.

sure, there’s a whole lot you missed before, but you don’t doubt for a second that the sam sitting in front of you is as kind, funny, smart, witty, sincere, adorably awkward, and good as the sam you met and came to know at stanford. in fact, knowing he grew up the way he did just reaffirms his goodness to you. it’s not easy to live like that and continue choosing to be kind and well-meaning and true to yourself. then there’s this feeling of admiration for sam, just blooming in your chest and you hold back a wide grin because the timing’s not quite right. you still can’t shake the urge to hug him.

“well,” you smile casually, if not a little rueful as you say your next words, “i think our dads will go all hunter-dad-crazy on us if we keep playing catch up. i’ll give you a run down of everything i’ve got, then we can do what dropouts from the west coast’s most prestigious school’s do best; research.”

sam’s smile matches your own, and it’s achingly familiar. “well, we can’t have those asses ruin our not-quite-stanford-alumni reuinion. let’s get to work. we can pretend it’s like the good old days, spring freshman year, all of us cramming for the way-er exam at the back of the library and getting shushed by the librarians. we can pretend john and rick are the librarians.”

for the first time in a long time, you let out a loud laugh, surprised and pulled right out of you without warning. he smiles wide at the sound and finally, without restraint, you grin back. god, you missed him.

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angelsdean · 1 year

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thinking abt dean's iconic line in the pilot "dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days" and how this is him trying to covertly signal to sam what he's talking abt without explicitly stating it in front of jess, right, we know this. BUT the thing that's the fabrication, the thing that he's saying to just sound normal is the "he hasn't been home in a few days." because as far as jess knows (and dean knows sam, can tell sam hasn't told her a thing abt the hunting world) she thinks there IS a winchester home somewhere out there, a home for john to be away from and come back to. but there is no home and dean was off working his own case separate from john. dean probably hasn't actually seen john in a while. but the thing that's concerning is john being out of touch and specifically john's last strange phone call to dean. there was never any home to be gone from, it wasn't about john not coming "home" to dean in time. and like it feels obvious but sometimes i'll see things like "oh dean hadn't seen john in a few weeks and that's what got him concerned." when really, dean probably has gone long long stretches without seeing john, maybe even without hearing from him too. none of that is what got him searching for john. and so what he says to sam about john not being home for in a few days, is completely a cover. there's no home, it's not about john actually being gone for so long, he only says that bit for jess' benefit. the thing that actually tipped dean off that something happened is the voicemail dean gets from john. but the part that sam's supposed to get is he's on a hunting trip. and something clearly happened because i'm here now so can we please go talk somewhere else so i can give you the real details.

#spn 1x01 #vics spn rewatch #putting it in the rewatch tag bc it is something i like fully realized on this rewatch #like it's always been a nebulous thought in my mind like 'yea of course it wasn't abt him not coming 'home' to dean in time'#but yea finally articulating it

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lunajay33 · 4 months

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Terror🪦

Summary: Going on a Hunt with Dean and Sam, your older brothers, you come across a case that triggers an old memory of fear, things go wrong and they need John to help bring you back from a horrified state

Pairing: Dean x lil sister, Sam x lil sister, John x daughter

•Masterlist•

As a kid you were always interested in the supernatural, whenever you could you’d beg John to tell you his hunting stories or even informing you on creatures, the werewolves, vampires, spirits, they were all so intriguing until….he told you about pagan gods, for some reason they terrified you especially when one case he was working on the Pagan god took you as leverage sticking the fear of god into you, after John had been able to save you, you went into a kind of catatonic paranoid state, you freaked at every noise, didn’t speak for weeks and stayed locked in the motel rooms refusing to leave, after about a month John was able to help cokes you out of the shell you hide in and you were back to your normal self

Flash forward to Now

You woke up to your cell phone ringing, you shot up in bed answering an unknown number

“Hello?”

“Sweetheart is that you?” Your heart dropped

“Daddy? Are you okay are you hurt?” Your brothers woke from your panicked tone

“I’m fine but you need to listen, you’ve gotta stop following me, now take these names down I’ve got a job for you all”

“But……but I miss you”

“Is that dad give me the phone” Dean groaned from beside you but you waved him off

“I know I miss you kids but I can’t put you all in danger give the phone to Dean”

“Okay……..I love you dad”

“Love you too kid”

Dean got the names and you were off driving to Indiana for a new case, on the way there Sam and Dean got into it again about helping dad, parking in the side of the road

“We don’t have to follow his every rule we need to go to California” Sam groaned getting out of the car, you and Dean quick to follow

“Sammy please don’t do this just get back in the car” you said scared he was going to leave again

“I’ve gotta go help, this demon killed mom and killed Jess”

“Sam I swear I’ll leave your ass here” Dean said slamming the trunk

“Then go”

“No sam please stay, don’t leave again”

He didn’t say anything breaking your heart and Dean could tell, you were heart broken when Sam left the first time and when John went MIA it was even harder on you

“Come on kid, we got people to save” you were hesitant to go desperate for Sam to get back in the car but he was persistent on leaving so you got back in the Impala watching Sam disappear in the rear view mirror, feeling the tears brim wiping them away before they fell

“Don’t worry kid you always got me, I’m never going anywhere”

“Thanks Dean”

Getting into the town you and Dean started asking around about the case, two missing people a guy and a girl but the town folk were dismissive and closed off, definitely hiding something

You got directions to where they last left off too coming to an orchard, it was old and gave you the chills

“Dean I don’t like the look of this place”

“Yeah me either, come on let’s look around” you sighed getting out and following him through the orchard until you came across a scarecrow

“Scariest scarecrow I’ve ever seen”

“You got that right” he says climbing up to inspect the thing

“He’s got the missing guys tattoo, think I know what we’re dealing with” he said looking at you with weary eyes as he climbed back down

“What? What is it?”

“Think it’s a Pagan god, they’re sacrifices” your heart dropped feeling instant chills and a wave of anxiety course through you

“Dean no…..you know I can’t….”

“Woah woah calm down, I know I remember, let’s get you outta here” he leads you out of the orchard back to his car

“We’ve got research to do, so we can get the hell outta here soon” he drove to a near by school that had history on pagan gods

“You stay here I won’t be long” he assured as he left

Pagan? Out of all the cases John could send you on it was the one thing that scared you the most

All of a sudden the door on your side of the car opened and the sheriff was there holding the butt end of a rifle towards you then everything went black

You woke up in a dark place with a throbbing pain in your head, groaning you try to get up when you hear something near you

“Hello?”

“Y/n is that you?”

“Dean oh thank god” you sigh making your way over to him listening to his voice, feeling his arms wrap around you

“What’s gonna happen to us?”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you” the doors above opened revealing the people you questioned in the town, the sheriff pointing a gun

They dragged you both out tying you to trees in the orchard

“I’m sorry but it’s for the greater good” the older lady says before they all left

“Oh god it’s happening all over again Dean, why would dad send us on this case?” You panicked as the sun got lower

“I’ll get us outta this”

“How?”

“Let me think?” It was dark now and there was still no plan

There was footsteps behind you getting closer, you scream and cry trying to escape

“Dean? Y/n?” It was Sam he came back

“Oh thank god, Sammy get us out of here, watch out for the scarecrow too” sam starts to unchain you both

“What scarecrow?” You all turn to where the scarecrow is suppose to be hanging and it was gone, groans were right behind you quick to turn and it was the scarecrow coming your way, Dean took your hand as you all ran almost out of the orchard the the towns people surrounded you

“Just let us go” Sam pleaded

“We can’t he needs a sacrifice” he’s stopped when a scythe is driven through his heart given you and your brothers to run making it out of the orchard in time as screams were heard behind you

You collapsed by the side of the impala the adrenaline wearing off as the fear came crashing down consuming you triggering all the memories that you so desperately tried to forget, you woke in a new motel room obviously gone from that horrid town

“Hey sweetheart how’re you feeling?” Dean asked from your bedside you wanted to answer but that fear was still there, it felt like if you just curled up and locked yourself away they pagan gods couldn’t get to you so that’s exactly what you did

You turned away from Dean and didn’t speak, refusing any food, this went on for weeks, until eventually it was two months and you were wasting away, every day was filled with fear and Sam and Dean didn’t know what to do to help you, they tried everything, even while working on other cases they felt desperate like you were one case they couldn’t fix

“Love you gotta eat or get outside we can’t see you like this anymore it’s not healthy” Sammy said but still no response

“We need to call dad, he got her out of this last time, it’s our last choice here” you missed your dad dearly he was always sweet on you, you were his little girl and reminded him so much of Mary

You could hear them calling over and over again desperate for an answer when finally after the 6th time he must have answered Sam

“Dad I know you told us to not call but it’s bad”

“That case a few months back you sent us on it was a pagan god, they got y/n you know how she is with that stuff”

“Yeah she’s like before, but worse, she needs you dad”

He hung up the phone looking at you with a worried look, you felt embarrassed and like a burden, you tried really hard to get better but every time you closed your eyes you saw them

“He’s coming sweetheart, it’ll be okay” Dean said brushing your hair back soothing you a bit

You were sleeping hearing faint voices around you, you opened your eyes to see Sam Dean and John talking in the entry way of the motel room, they noticed your movement and ceased all talk

John made his way over kneeling down by your bed so he was eye level with you

“Hey sweetie, heard you weren’t doing good” you shake your head side to side

“They can’t hurt you, your brothers would never let that happen”

“But……but I’m scared” your voice raspy from lose of use

“I know but you can’t do this to yourself, you’ve gotta be strong”

“I’m sorry” you say your lip trembling

“Not your fault, now come on let’s get you some fresh air”

After that your brothers were there easing you back into everything, eating, hunting and eventually you were back in business but you swore to never work on a pagan case again

#supernatural imagine #supernatural #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #sam and dean #john winchester x daughter #john winchester fluff #john winchester x reader #john winchester #John Winchester imagine

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pagannatural · 7 months

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1.13

-Route 666

-Sam’s hackles are up the minute Dean says they’re dropping everything to help a woman he knows. Sam is alternately irritated and amused by Dean’s trysts but he draws the line at someone else actually being important to Dean.

Sam acts exactly like a jealous wife. He says “so by old friend you mean…?” And then he crosses his arms and accuses “you never mentioned her” and “you mean you dated someone. For more than one night.”

-Sam is even angrier to find out Dean told Cassie he’s a hunter.

He looks like a scorned wife. He never told Jess, who he wanted to marry, the truth about his life shared with Dean. In the pilot, before she died, Dean challenged Sam by asking, Does she know the truth about you? She didn’t, she couldn’t know this part of Sam that Dean knows. Now Sam finds out that there is someone else in Dean’s life who knows their secrets. He’s threatened.

-Cassie is ridiculously beautiful and likable. Sam is too sweet to hold anything against her.

-Sam is paying very close attention to Cassie and Dean. He’s studying them, which means it’s really important to him to figure out what’s going on between them. He observes to Dean that she’s fearless and wouldn’t take his shit. He notices that they don’t look at each other at the same time, that they have unfinished business.

-Sam and Cassie are a lot alike. She’s educated, she stands up for herself and speaks her mind, and she’s the type to call Dean out. Dean specifically told Sam he admired the fact that Sam stands up for himself and goes after what he wants, and we know Sam challenges Dean all the time. Reporters also tend to do quite a bit of research, which is Sam’s thing. She was even in college at the same time Sam was, when she and Dean dated.

Dean met her and had the most serious relationship of his life during that first year Sam was away at college. John wrote in his journal something about Dean talking to a woman who is a reporter about Sam on Sam’s 20th birthday as they leave Athens, Ohio. Dean probably sought comfort from Cassie about missing Sam and definitely told her about him. Dean tried to fill the Sam-shaped hole in his life with Cassie.

-Dean can either have Sam or he can have a girlfriend (or he can have neither) but he can’t have both.

-Sam won’t let this go. He’s kind of teasing Dean about it but then he gets serious when he says “you loved her.” His vibe changes again when he guesses that she was the one who dumped him. He looks hurt. He probably thought he was the only one who had ever dumped Dean.

It makes him so insecure.

-Did Sam just think that Dean would never fall in love or get into a relationship? Is this the first time he’s considering that possibility?

-Sam reflects that when he was at college his life was so simple. Something about this particular case makes Sam miss when his life was less complicated, and the only thing different about this case is that Dean has feelings for someone. It would fit with Sam running away from his feelings for Dean.

-Sam coughs loudly when Dean and Cassie kiss and tells Dean to admit he’s still in love with her. Dean doesn’t. Imagine Sam’s face if he had.

-Sam watches Cassie and Dean kiss goodbye and then looks away with this expression on his face

-He asks Dean if a girl like Cassie ever makes Dean question if what they’re doing (hunting) is worth it. He also says he likes her, like he’s giving his approval. He’s doing the same thing Dean did in Hook Man, seeing if his brother wants to stay behind for a love interest.

They’re testing each other. They’re pushing to see who will leave first. Sam’s abandonment issues come from not feeling chosen and feeling left out, left on his own constantly while Dean and their dad hunted, the odd one out. It’s part of why he left in the first place. He thinks Dean needs his help, but he doubts that Dean would truly choose him when it came down to it. Before this he thought that Dean was choosing hunting over him, but now the possibility arises that he could choose another person. He thinks now that this is what Dean truly wants.

-Dean doesn’t answer Sam’s question outright. He just looks at Sam with so much love and tenderness and tells him to wake him up when it’s his turn to drive. There was never any contest.

#supernatural #samdean #wincest #spn 1x13

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deancasbigbang · 3 days

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Title: La Frontera

Author: Owco

Artist: rezal

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester Jesse Cuevas/Cesar Cuevas

Length: 24000

Warnings: No archive warnings apply, canon typical violence, internalized homophobia

Tags: canon divergent, case-fic, established relationship

Posting Date: October 28, 2024

Summary: Something is picking off men along the Rio Grande river. Luckily, Cas, Dean, and Sam are on the case. As they hunt the mysterious monster, Dean gets more than he bargained for as he is forced to confront his ongoing ill-defined relationship with Cas.

Excerpt: “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was going to the car to get something and I heard voices.” Dean doesn’t mention that the ‘something’ was whiskey because he’d been laying in bed thinking about how nice it would be if Cas showed up. “I understand. She wished to ask me about God and Heaven, and a series of other questions I’m afraid I couldn’t answer,” Cas says ruefully. He looks tired and worn, Dean has often wondered what it would feel like to never sleep. Cas never catches a break, not even for a night. Not really. Dean steps forward and pulls him into a kiss. Cas melts into it, he always does. It’s like coming home each and every time. He puts his hands on Dean’s hips, then breaks the kiss to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. Perhaps this is as close to rest as Castiel ever really gets, in the dark liminal spaces they carve out together. Cas looks too wrung out to be interested in sex, so instead Dean wraps his arms around him and gathers him into his chest. Cas puts his weight into Dean and lets himself be held. Cas tilts his head out of Dean’s shirt just enough to say, “She knew the name Cassiel, and asked if that was another of my names. I haven’t been called that in some time, not since I was a soldier of Heaven, certainly. It was my name to many, but somehow when she said it I almost told her that wasn’t me. I’m so different now, it felt unfair to tell her I was the same Angel. I am, yet I’m not.” Dean strokes his back. He understands not recognizing yourself. He sometimes has a hard time believing that the hunter living out of his car while his brother was away at Stanford is the same man whose voice is still rough from screaming for forty years in Hell. He doesn’t say it, Cas knows. Cas was the one who had pulled him out. Instead Dean answers his own question from earlier; his touch does ease the tension out of Cas. Dean has only known his touch to hurt and burn, so he marvels at how Cas’s muscles loosen under him as he runs his hand up and down his back. “Thank you, Dean.” Cas’s voice is muffled by Dean’s flannel. “Anytime, buddy.” He should touch Cas more, he doesn’t deserve thanks for a little hug. It shouldn’t be something special.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2024 #fic preview #2024 promo #deancas #destiel

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dulceackles · 3 months

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Ambivalent Part two - The brother

Previous part: (x)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, strong language, sex, violence, enemies to lovers, alcohol, all that. Mention of dead body, a little bit of horror. English is not my first language, so sorry for typos. Also, it is a Y/N, but I've created a background story and a fictional place around it for creative and storytelling reasons. Will not be describing exterior characteristics, tho!

Summary: Dean used to be really important to Y/N but ever since he suddenly left her without telling her why, she's been avoiding even mentioning him. Now, after years, he's back in town, but not because of her. There's a case. The only things she's certain is that she doesn't like him being back.

Word count: 1.8k

There was this playground that Y/N had spent quite a bit of time playing in when she was a kid. It was worn down and kind of abandoned already. She hadn't seen any kids play in it for years. After all, there were new and more modern playgrounds in the town. But sometimes she came to sit on the benches of the park to drink a coffee or read a book. After all, an abandoned playground without a single kid was way more calm environment to drink a morning coffee than a busy café that was buzzing of cranky adults and their illegally excited kids that just wanted to get to their friends already.

Y/N was just about to take another ship of her coffee when she heard a warm voice she still didn't like, "The café house had no available seats, huh?", It said.

She lifted her eyes to meet with Sam's. He took a seat right next to her on the wooden bench. Y/n tuned back to her coffee, ignoring him and hoping he'd just give up with whatever small-talk he was trying to make.

"Well, good morning to you, too." Sam let out a faint laughter and looked down at his hands.

There was a brief silence between them. Sam wasn't fully sure why he had decided to come over her, as he had seen her sitting alone. Maybe he had wanted to set things right between the two of them, if that was even possible. After all, he had done literally nothing and wasn't sure where all this hatred towards him was coming from.

Y/N had never been that close, not even friends if we're honest. He had known Dean had some girl he frequently visited and with who he kept calling even during the hunting trips. Honestly, sometimes Sam had gotten a bit annoyed with Dean. Dean had always been the advocate of how family came first and how mixing relationships into hunting life but innocent people in danger, but then all of a suddenly he was all over some girl living in a small town in the middle of a forest he met while driving through. Dean had told her he and Sam had a family business of building engineering, which caused them to travel a lot because apparently they were the best in the business. As time had gone, he had become glad that Dean had someone caring outside the hunting life. It really balanced him, and Sam knew how it felt. After all he had had Jess and never ever would have he become in a way of Dean having someone special in his life. Sam, Dean and Y/N had even gone on a couple drink together as Sam had insisted that if Dean was going to keep being with her, he also wanted to meet the girl his brother was so keen into. Sam liked Y/N, and he thought that if they were giving a bit more time, they maybe had become friends even, but then, as fast as the relationship had started, it was over. And Sam had no idea what had happened between them and All Dean told him was that it was done, and he didn't want to talk about it.

"You know, I find this town funny. Under 10000 citizens and still, every morning the coffee shop is full of people like it's an only place open in a metropolis. It's like this town is addicted to coffee." Sam observed, he wasn't sure if she was even listening and to be honest he did feel a little bit stupid talking to himself on an abandoned playground.

"Okay, leave then." Y/N hissed, still trying to ignore him. It did make her a bit uncomfortable that he had walked over to her. She barely knew Sam, but there was a time she had thought he and Dean were like the coolest and funniest people she had ever met. She had hoped, fantasized even, that she and Sam would have become good friends. The first time she had met him, she had been extremely nervous. He was Dean's brother after all, and it had meant lot to her that Dean had invited her to meet with his family. She had wished more than anything that Sam would have liked her, even though she would have never openly admitted to such a desperate behavior. It made her feel stupid of how desperately she had wanted to be part of Dean's life and accepted by people close to him just for him to drop her like an old toy. And now she wanted that both of them knew nether of them had any business with her ever again.

"Yeah, well… We will. After... We have a job here, but after that," Sam struggled again a little bit. He was not used to her being this direct and cold. He had always viewed her as a kind and a little bit shy girl, not cold and unapproachable. "I really don't know what happened between you and my brother, but I am sorry," Sam tried to start the peace negotiations.

"Sure. Go be sorry somewhere else, tho," Y/N stood up and started to walk away. She was annoyed she didn't get to enjoy her morning coffee in peace, but her shift was about to start in an hour, and she had to start making her way towards her workplace. It was friday morning and it was usually busy one. She should head to the cafe early.

Sam let out a frustrated sign and went trotting after her, "Look, all I'm trying to say is that I don't enjoy this ongoing trench warfare between you and us."

"And all I'm trying to say is fuck off, you stupid assclown." Y/N rose her voice at him, and she could fell herself getting uncomfortably anxious. She regretted calling him names immediately, tho, and she could tell he was little hurt by her outburst. But before she have time to gather her thoughts and apologize, she heard another voice behind the two of them.

"Sam...SAM?" Dean calls his brother like he was his dog with a bad recall wandering around a public park. His voice rose the little hairs in Y/N's arm while she turned to look at him walking towards them. For a moment she had an urge to start running away, but she fought that urge. Sam lets out yet another frustrated sign.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked from Sam, but before he has time to answer, Dean turned to look at Y/N, "And what are you doing? Don't you ever talk to my brother like that."

"What am I doing?? What are you two liars doing? I know for a fact there's not a single so significant building being build in this old rotting town that'd need an outsider engineers, so what are you doing here after seemingly disappearing for two years? Just came to bother me for leisure activity?" Y/N spat out angrily. Sam stood next to Dean quietly, he could tell his brother was not very happy with anything going on.

"If you think that us being back here has anything to do with you, then you're delusional about your importance." Dean looked down at her with a dull expression on his face. He could see Y/N's soulful eyes starting to tear up and felt like hitting himself in his calves. He needed to come up with something better right now, but before he had time to take back any of his words, she was already going.

"Jackass! Play with your fucking self while on that decomposing playground, you son of a bitch." Y/N screamed behind to him one last time before nearly running off the old playground.

"That went well," Dean glared at his little brother before starting to head towards impala, "What did you say to her?"

"I feel like the problem is not what I said, but what you said." Sam followed behind his headstrong brother.

"I KNOW, but what did you say?" Dean huffed.

"I don't know, I just tried to make up with her, you know. It's bothering how she looks at us like we killed her dog." Sam rose his shoulders to his ears.

"Well, don't you care about how she looks at you. She's like being a bitch to you because you keep poking her. You're like an easy target. Let's just let her be, do our job and leave." Dean gave Sam a brotherly tap to his shoulder.

"Yeah, and she'll like to curse us to hell for the rest of her life." Sam raised his hands, it wasn't his relationship, but he felt like this needed closure for both of them.

"She'll forget." Dean was slightly shocked how into this Sam was. Sam had met her like, what, two times? Four, if we count yesterday and this one right here.

"It's been two years over an under a year long undefined relationship, Dean! Seems like she has a quite good memory. I'm just saying, avoiding problems is not the same as solving them." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Oh, okay lover-boy. Just remember I was on the field when you were still scared of talking to girls." Dean smirked.

"Coaches don't play." Sam opened the car door and hopped in, "Anyway, called Bobby and here's what he got. This town has higher amount of disappearance cases than any other town of the same size. Most of the missing persons are women and the record goes back to 1940s. Yet there's only been 2 bodies found, the woman in 1947 and now Sandra, but I'm just saying, something iffy has been going on for a long time." Sam decided to let the whole Y/N situation go.

"So what, the Schnabel von Rom-lookalike just got sloppy all of a sudden?" Dean turned to face Sam. This whole thing made no sense to him. Why no other hunter had never looked into this?

"Well, we're about to find out. We should talk to Victor, He was there, maybe he saw something he didn't tell to the police."

"You're right, he goes to this bar every Friday. We should meet him there tonight, have a couple beers, etc. I mean, we can't just show up to his door as FBI because he knows who I am." Dean started the car and hit the road.

"Wait, what, you know this guy?" Sam looked at Dean, confused.

"C'moon this is a small town and I used to visit it frequently due to some "under a year long undefined relationship". I don't know him, I just know about him and he knows about me. But he'll talk, I promise, they are awfully trusty in this town." Dean imitated Sam while quoting him.

Y/N had just changed into her work clothes when she heard her phone ring. It was a text message from one of her closest friends.

Joselyn: girl's night tonight?

Y/N: sure! Mic's bar at 11pm?

It was a Friday night, after all. I mean, Y/N didn't go out that much, but it was a nice once in a while.

"One coffee please!" Her thoughts were disrupted by the nasty snarl of a middle-aged woman, clearly in a desperate need of a morning coffee.

Next part: (x)

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x fem!reader

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d-hasselhoff · 1 year

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GIVEN UP

Dean Winchester

Sam says something he didn’t mean to in the midst of an argument.

Sam and Dean were arguing again.

You weren’t sure the exact argument, but it had something to do with Dean not understanding what Sam felt when he lost Jessica. After hearing that, you slinked off to the Deancave, leaving the brothers to settle it out on their own.

Minutes later Dean came down, grunting something about his keys, and left. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. He would be out, driving around, and then he’d come back. You decided maybe you should talk to Sam, see what his side of the story was before Dean made him out to be the villain.

“Sam? Everything alright?” You knocked on the doorframe of his open bedroom. He looked up at you from his desk.

“Y/n? Oh, yeah. Just a little fight.” Sam gave you a small, unsure smile.

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked lightly, sitting down on his bed.

He nodded, turning his chair toward you.

“What happened?”

“We uh, we were talking the mark, and about sacrifices, and he said that I’d never had to give up anything major and then I kind of yelled at him about Jessica and how he’d never really had to sacrifice anything. He wanted to be in this life, he wanted you and he wanted a hunting life. He got everything he wanted. I never wanted anything like this. I wanted to practice law and live in my suburban house with Jess and our kids. And now I can’t. But you two, you’ve got it all! You’ve got all you wanted.”

You licked your lips, listening intently. “D’ya know I was pregnant?”

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. “You were? When?”

“Years ago. ‘Bout when Jess died and your dad went missing. I was five months along when Dean realized your dad was gone too long and decided he wanted to go lookin’ for him.

So, we did. And we went to collect you, and Dean saw how happy you and Jess looked, and that night he told me he was really ready to settle down once he found your dad. He was ready to settle down and live a normal life.” You sniffled slightly, the memory hitting you like a semi. Sam looked up, and Dean stood in the doorway, unnoticed by you. “And then Jess died. Jess died, and you were so determined to find her killer that Dean realized he couldn’t leave you to hunt alone. And so I had a decision to make. I could either have this baby and try to raise it on my own, which I knew wouldn’t work, or I could have it and give it up.”

“So you gave it up?”

“I did. I gave it up. Dean gave it up. Dean gave up the life he was promised, and the life he was so ready to live so that you could find and kill the thing that killed your ticket out of the hunting life.

So, yes, he’s sacrificed a lot. An entire life. And I know it feels as though it’ll never be the same as losing Jess, and I’m sure it’s not exactly the same, but it’s just as hard. It’s just as demanding. And honestly, I’m kind of glad we didn’t give up hunting. I would love to be able to settle down, but I think we’d get so bored. The most fun we’d get is fuckin’ church bingo.” Sam snorted at that, imagining Dean at a church bingo.

Dean laughed, catching your attention. “Hey, baby,” you greeted, patting the spot next to you on the bed.

He wandered over and sat behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso. “Hey, sweetheart. Do we need to attend a church bingo now?”

You laughed, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. “I think we might. You gonna join us, Sammy?”

“Only if I get to keep our winnings,”

#supernatural #jensen ackles #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader

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bella-rose29 · 1 year

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Idiot ~ Anthony Lockwood x f!reader

Requested by anon:

Hii I want to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader, with childhood bestfriends to rivals to lovers with the miscommunication trope, but also a happy ending with both of them being together. So the plot could be like, they were childhood best friends but then when Anthony's family died he later wanted to start the business, but she thought that he was out of his mind because she was scared about him being in danger, but he thought she just didn't think he can handle it so they got into an argument and she left. After that, they started hating each, later she joined Fittes as an agent, so he was even more angry. So they became rivals in the ghost hunting business. Then they got put on a mission later, and idk she gets injured and his like "who did this to you," but they're still enemies, even though the whole time there is sexual tension between them. This request is super chaotic, so just make your own plot with these elements, I guess. I'm not good at describing plots, I will be happy with whatever you write, but please let them have a happy ending and be together. Also, could you try to make this as long as you can because there aren't as many Lockwood fics as there should be.

I might have changed some bits a lil bit and probably spent way too long talking about their childhood, but hopefully this lives up to your expectations anon! (Please let me know if it doesn't though)

Word count: 9.5k exactly (holy shit this is insane i had way too much fun with this)

Warnings: swearing, violence, fighting, descriptions of injury, mentions and descriptions of Lockwood's family dying/being dead, major spoilers for the books (and the show), some stuff probably doesn't make sense (like at all), i might also have misremembered and made up some things but we'll go with it, Lockwood is actually kind of a dick for some of this oops, he gets better i promise, hospitals, mentions of being on morphine (for the pain), references to Lockwood being depressed, they're idiots in love.

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @wordsarelife

As always, let me know here if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list!

It was nearly 3am and Y/n L/n had had enough.

She was exhausted, weary, worn out, and pretty much any other synonym for the word 'tired', and she just wanted to go to bed, but Anthony Lockwood had other ideas.

"Give it here, come on!"

Y/n groaned, then half-heartedly chucked the bits of paper at her best friend from where she was lying on the floor of his living room. Jessica laughed, despite also losing to the 5 year old boy at Monopoly, and shook her head at his greedy smile as he counted the money. How he had ever managed to get the two of them to agree to play with him, Y/n didn't know, especially since she'd not really been paying attention when the rules were explained. But then she saw how happy he was at the idea of playing with the two girls, and Y/n knew she could never make her best friend sad.

She did really want to go to bed though.

Jessica Lockwood appeared to notice Y/n's droopy eyes, and quietly spoke to her brother, stifling a laugh at his pout when she told him they should probably stop.

"But we aren't done yet!"

"I know, Anthony, but you've definitely got the most money, I'm sure of it. You're going to win no matter what, so I think we should let Y/n/n go to sleep, yeah?"

"Oh..." he'd noticed his friend's demeanour now, and felt immediately bad for making her stay awake. "Alright then. Y/n/n?"

"Mmm?"

"You ready to go to bed? 'Cause Jess says I won, so I reckon we can go up now."

"Mkay," she murmured, too sleepy to answer in proper words. Going up to bed was a haze, and she only really woke up when she stubbed her toe at the bottom of the stairs (Anthony hadn't told her that was there, despite saying he'd guide her). She was sure she brushed her teeth, Jessica would have checked, and they were all already in their pyjamas, but the only other thing she remembered before dropping off completely was seeing Anthony's face on the pillow next to her, already snoring lightly.

~~~

Y/n couldn't remember most of Anthony's sixth birthday now, what with all the memories that came in between, but she did remember his joy at receiving her present.

He'd spent the majority of the morning since Y/n and her family went next door gloating about how he was finally six, and now he was old enough to do so much more than Y/n (who was still five). She'd rolled her eyes, laughing when he did victory dances all around the house, and laughing even harder when he fell over while doing one of the previously mentioned dances.

They'd run away and hidden in his room in the attic after collecting plates of cake, and Y/n made sure to pick up her carefully wrapped present on the way up. He'd noticed immediately that she was carrying it, of course, he was far too observant to miss it, and had demanded that she let him open it right then and there. Initially she'd refused, feeling shy and worried that he wouldn't like it, but he'd given her one of his secret smiles, one of the ones reserved specifically for her, and said "Please?" so sweetly she caved.

He placed the cake to the side, then spent a good minute unwrapping the gift, being oh so gentle with the paper in fear of breaking it. When he saw the item inside, his smile burst out, bright and blinding, and Y/n felt her own smile form on her face, pleased at his reaction.

"Do you like it?" Nerves were still coursing through her, but they left her body when he raised his head and met her eyes.

"I love it, Y/n/n," he whispered, lifting the picture frame all the way out of the wrapping. She'd convinced her parents to print the photo off, and then spent hours making a frame that would fit it perfectly, complete with lolly sticks and stickers, trying to make the best gift for the best friend she'd ever had.

The photo was the two of them the previous Christmas, bundled up in ridiculous festive jumpers and sat in front of the Lockwood family tree in the hallway, presents surrounding them. Their parents had insisted on a photo before they ruined the area with rubbish everywhere, and the two of them could barely contain their excitement. There was a slight blur to them, a testament to their energy, but their smiles were so wide and they were hugging so tightly Y/n knew it was the perfect photo to give him.

"Where did you even get this? I thought your mum hid the camera?"

Y/n giggled at his comically wide eyes. "I just asked her, silly. I did have to do some chores but I didn't mind, it was worth it."

She barely had time to move her plate of cake out of the way (she hadn't eaten any in the last few minutes, far too focused on Anthony's reaction) when he surged forward, bringing his arms around her in a crushing hug.

"Thank you," he said, although it was muffled since his head was pressed into her shoulder.

"Anything for you, Ant, anytime."

They stayed there for a while, just hugging on his bed and revelling in each others' presence, both knowing that Y/n had meant her words.

~~~

When Anthony had to fight his parents' ghosts, Y/n had cried.

He was crying too, since he'd seen them die less than a day ago and now he had to keep them dead, but seeing her best friend in so much pain had made Y/n cry harder.

Anthony was trying to push back the tears so that he could see, so that he could fight, and Y/n hated that he was doing this on his own.

She had been kept in her room by her parents, the adults being too scared for their daughter's safety to let her go and help Anthony, and she was watching him through her bedroom window. Despite the tears streaming down her face and the sobs racking her body, she could tell he was crying (or trying not to) because of the way he was hunched into himself, as if by making himself smaller he could make everything stop. His body was shaking too, heaving with silent cries as he fought off the two ghosts in front of him. Why they were in his back garden, Y/n wasn't sure, since they'd died on the road in an explosion a few minutes drive away, but she was only six, and didn't understand much anyway.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, perched on the window seat with her gaze fixed on the boy next door, but she knew that it was far past her bedtime when he finally stopped them, and she woke up with her face stuck to the window, tear stains on her cheeks.

Realising it was light again, Y/n hurried to get dressed, tearing down the stairs and into the house next to them, knocking rapidly on the front door. It swung open a few moments later, revealing Jessica, who smiled sadly at the small girl in front of her and waved Y/n in.

"He's in his room," she said quietly, voice raw from crying.

Y/n nearly tripped countless times climbing the many stairs, and by the time she'd made it to the attic she was out of breath. Pushing his door open, and going up the last few steps (seriously, why were there so many steps?) she froze at the top when she saw him curled up under his bedsheets, shaking with near-silent cries.

"Anthony?"

She heard him sniff, the sound gross and snotty, and then he turned his body around to face her, and Y/n felt her heart break in her chest.

He clearly hadn't slept all night, eyes red from crying and lack of sleep, and he was struggling to keep back the fresh tears that threatened to break through.

"Oh, Ant."

Y/n rushed to the bed, climbing to sit next to him and pulling his head into her lap, brushing her fingers through his hair.

They sat like that for hours, long after Jessica brought up some toast for the two of them, and even when Y/n's back hurt from the headboard and her legs were numb from having his weight on them, she didn't stop stroking his hair, soothing him silently.

When he finally sat up, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose (Y/n made a mental note to put her clothes in the wash as soon as she got back home), she pulled him back in for a hug, both of them sat up this time.

"Thank you, Y/n/n."

She remembered the last time they'd done this, hugged on his bed while he thanked her, but this time it wasn't happy.

"Anything, Ant. Anytime."

~~~

"Ant, don't be stupid!" Y/n giggled, watching him climb the tree.

"I'm gonna get you an apple," he shouted, smiling down at her. "You're gonna love it, I promise!"

He'd just been reaching out for one, bright red and shining, when they'd heard a crash from inside his house, followed by a scream. They'd frozen where they stood, Y/n on the ground and Anthony in the tree, and then suddenly they snapped into action, scrambling to get inside and find Jessica.

They tore up the stairs (somehow Anthony had caught up to her, despite having been up the tree), and he pushed open her bedroom door just in time to see the ghost.

"NO!"

He moved before Y/n did, grabbing a spare rapier from the dresser and moving to fight, hoping to save his sister.

Y/n moved, but backwards, taking a step back out onto the landing, her hand on her mouth.

"Anthony."

He had pushed the ghost back, and was picking up a net.

"Anthony."

He had thrown the net over the broken pot, wrapping it up securely.

"Anthony," she said, eyes fixed on the bed.

"What?" His eyes were wide with terror as he turned to look at her, evidently scared that she was in danger, but when he followed her finger that pointed to the bed, he choked.

"No," he croaked hoarsely, and Y/n felt terrible for making him realise. "Jessica? Jessica please wake up. Jessica. Jessica, this isn't funny. Jessica, please. Jessica."

He kept on like that, repeating her name and asking her to wake up, but Y/n knew that she wouldn't. She moved again then, over to where he stood, rapier hanging limply in his hand. It had only been three years ago he'd lost his parents, why did he have to lose someone else that he loved? Pulling him into her, she let him sob into her shoulder (difficult, given his growth spurt).

Y/n knew at that point that she wouldn't ever leave him.

~~~

"You what?!"

"I'm starting training," Anthony replied, not looking up from where he stood at the kitchen counter, buttering toast.

"But... but why?"

"Because," he shrugged. When he didn't expand on it, Y/n sighed.

She was worried about him.

He'd been vacant, hollow, since Jessica's death, and although he tried to smile and make everybody think that he was doing just fine, Y/n knew her best friend better than that. She saw the bags under his eyes, the lack of joy and mischief that used to reside in his gaze.

"Because what, Anthony?"

"Look, I'll be fine. This guy called Nigel is gonna train me, and then I'll be an agent, and I can keep you safe."

"I can keep myself safe, idiot," Y/n huffed indignantly, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

"I know, I just want to be extra sure that you'll be okay. And everyone else."

"We're nine, Anthony. You went to a funeral a week ago and already you're talking to agents?"

"Yes. I'd like it if you came with me, obviously, but if you don't that's fine too. I'm doing this anyway, with or without you."

That hurt.

They always did everything together, so why was he talking like this?

"Fine. I'll talk to my parents. You need protecting too, dummy."

She'd broached the subject that night at dinner, expecting them to say no.

"Are you sure you want to do this, darling?"

"Yep," she said, stabbing some peas with her fork.

Her parents shared a look.

"Alright. Just promise us you'll be careful, and you'll pay attention in your training, yeah?"

Surprise made Y/n jolt, sending peas skidding across the table. "I can go?"

"Yes, but you have to promise us-"

"I promise!" Her parents chuckled, shaking their heads in a way that reminded Y/n of Monopoly and a late night.

~~~

Training was horrible.

Everybody was mean to her, just because she couldn't run as fast as the others, or move as quickly with a rapier.

"Look at her, she's gonna die within minutes!"

"Nah, she'll never make it that long. On the plus side, if she's in our group we only have to run faster than her!"

"Won't be too difficult!"

Y/n scowled at the whispers, making her way over to Anthony. She huffed, plopping down on the bench next to him and glaring at the girls.

"What's up with you?"

"They're being mean about me. Saying I'll be useless in the field."

"Aw, Y/n/n, they're stupid if they think that. You'll be amazing, I'm sure." He nudged her shoulder with his, smile working its way onto his face. Y/n couldn't help but smile back; his was too infectious. "You'll prove them wrong, I'm sure of it."

After that day, Y/n worked ten times as hard on the practical elements, a new intensity coming into her training with the other agents. She sparred against Anthony when they got home, blunt rapiers clashing in her back garden while her parents cooked dinner.

Within a month, she could beat pretty much everyone she trained with, the only exception being Anthony. He'd shown a skill with the rapier from the very beginning, and his long body made him graceful in a fight. She'd nearly beaten him a few times, but then he'd had a fire light in his eyes and he'd push her back, focus deadly as he forgot everything but the fight. She grew scared in those moments, and had stopped trying to beat him, afraid that he'd forget who she was and hurt her.

~~~

When they were fourteen, Y/n broke her promise and walked out on Anthony Lockwood.

He'd started a business, his own goddamn agency, in his own goddamn house, and he'd wanted her to work with him. She barely recognised the boy that stood in front of her the day he asked her; he was a shell of the best friend she used to have. He was vacant still, and she just wanted Anthony Lockwood back.

"Please? It'll be so much better if we're working together! You can come and live here, and your parents are still next door so you're not too far away, and we'll go on cases together, and it'll be great!"

Y/n had shaken her head, fear creeping up her spine. He'd grown a death wish recently, and although he vehemently denied it, she'd seen how he didn't seem to care about his personal safety when on cases led by the trainers.

"Anthony, you can't do this, please. You're gonna get hurt," she pleaded, hoping he'd come to his senses. If he wasn't so broken, she'd say yes, gladly, and work with him as they had always planned they would. But he was broken, and this job could destroy him.

"What, do you think I can't do it?" His brow furrowed in confusion, and Y/n could practically feel his guard start to go up.

He'd never done that with her before.

"It's not that, I just don't want you getting hurt. You're my best friend, Ant, and I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't lose me," he'd raised his voice slightly, pushing off of the kitchen counter as he got defensive. "You've seen me," he swept an arm out, referencing the training missions. "I'm the best agent they've got, and we both know it. I won't get hurt. I'm too good for that."

Y/n scoffed. "Do you hear yourself, Anthony? Do you realise how arrogant you sound? Because that's gonna get you killed." She'd raised her voice too, to match his, and she jabbed a finger into his chest.

"Arrogant? You think I'm arrogant? I thought we were 'best friends'?"

"Why did you say it like that?"

"What?"

"'Best friends', like we're not. You did little finger quotes like it was sarcastic."

"You always do this! Make something out of nothing!"

"What?" Her eyes narrowed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You tell me! You're the one saying I'm gonna get killed when I'm the most skilled agent we know! Why can't you just trust me?!"

"Because you will, Anthony! You will get yourself killed, and I can't let that happen! You can't start a company, just join Fittes, or Rotwell!"

"Fittes? Rotwell? I'd rather eat my own foot than join one of them! You just think I'm not capable of any of this, don't you? You think, that because my family is dead, I can't do this, because I should be grieving instead. Well I have grieved, and if you don't want to stay, then you can leave. I don't want you here if you're gonna keep being like this. Come back when you've sorted your attitude out." He turned his back, busying himself with making a cup of tea.

Y/n stared at him, mouth open in shock and tears threatening to fall.

"Prick. You're the one that needs to sort your attitude, not me."

She left then, grabbing her bag from the chair and scribbling a 'fuck you, Lockwood' onto the paper cloth on the table.

~~~

A year later, Y/n was working a job, and was actually somewhat happy.

She'd joined Fittes after her argument with Lockwood (she stubbornly refused to call him 'Anthony' until he'd apologised to her), and had been put in Quill Kipps' team. He was nice enough, arrogant and conceited at times, but Y/n put that down to his failing Senses and the stress of being team leader, since he was alright the rest of the time. He was more like an overworked teacher on a school trip with a bunch of primary school kids, and the bags under his eyes really added to the image.

It was a minor threat, Type One ghost that was giving an old lady the creeps, but they'd been waylaid on their way back to Fittes by a group of ghosts in the park, and two figures struggling to fight them all. There had to have been around twenty to thirty ghosts (all Type Ones, but they were angry), and when Kipps wondered aloud who would be so daft as to take them on, Y/n sighed, knowing exactly who would do it.

The Fittes team had jumped in, using the remainder of their flares and energy to help, and Y/n found the source, securing it quickly and efficiently. Mass graves were never fun, and this one wasn't much better. Spreading the silver net over the area, Y/n stood, careful not to jostle it.

"We don't need Fittes coming in, thanks, we were perfectly fine on our own."

"Sure," Kipps snorted. "Because being completely surrounded by ghosts and nearly dying is being perfectly fine. Give it a rest, Tony. Go back to your house and leave the agent work to the professionals, yeah?" Y/n rolled her eyes as she got closer, but she couldn't help but agree with what her leader was saying.

Anthony Lockwood looked terrible.

She had no idea who the other boy was (although he did look vaguely familiar), but he at least didn't look like he was on death's door.

"Y/n?"

She raised her eyebrows (she still couldn't figure out how to raise just the one, despite practicing for hours).

"Lockwood."

He flinched, almost imperceptibly, but she knew him too well to miss it. Nobody else noticed.

"Why are you... Are you working for Fittes?"

"Yes." He wasn't getting more out of her, not until he apologised. Kipps was looking between the two of them, as was the other boy with Lockwood, both clearly confused.

"How do you know each other?" Kipps asked.

"We were-"

"We were neighbours. Didn't talk much outside of that." Her tone was bland, and her face nonchalant, and she turned to leave. "Has somebody called DEPRAC?" Ned nodded, waving the radio in his hand.

"Said they'd be two minutes. Should be here in a minute."

"Perfect. Can we get that tea now, Kipps?"

He hesitated, obviously still unsure about what was going on. "Sure. We'll drop the other Source off first though, yeah?"

They left, and although Y/n could feel Lockwood's stare on her back, she didn't turn around.

~~~

It was a month later that Y/n saw Lockwood again, and it was almost the same situation. Her team had been patrolling the streets, making sure the area was secure, when they'd seen magnesium flares going off. They'd rushed in, and Y/n had scoffed when she caught sight of the long black coat and flashy moves.

"Outta the way, Tony!"

The Fittes team had made quick work of the Type Two, bagging the Source and claiming the reward. Y/n felt a little bad about the money, but at the same time Lockwood needed to learn how to get control over the situations he put himself in if he wanted to keep the reward. He seemed to take on the cases that were ridiculously out of his reach, and if Y/n was speaking to him she'd guess that he was trying to prove a point.

She and her team were warming up in a cafe afterwards, one of the late night ones that opened specifically for agents, when Lockwood and his coworker walked in. The pair breezed past, and when the other boy had smiled apologetically at them and given Y/n a little wave, she remembered who he was.

"George! Wait, it is George, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah," he scratched the back of his head, and adjusted his glasses on his face. "I wasn't sure you remembered me, to be honest."

"I knew I'd seen you before, it just took me a bit to remember where from. Also it was dark the last two times we saw each other, so that won't have helped. Anyway, how are you?"

They chatted for a while, George shifting the piles of paper he had in his arms.

"Do you need to put those down?" she asked after he readjusted them for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I should probably get over to Lockwood, actually. I'm pretty sure he's burning holes in my jumper right now."

"Oh, he's glaring at me, don't worry."

"Why would he be glaring at you? You're lovely," he questioned, confused. "I thought you were just neighbours anyway?"

"Yeah. We had an argument a while back. He was a knob."

"Oh. Yeah, I can see that he would be." George nodded in understanding. "I should definitely go and join him though. We've got all this to get through," he held up the papers slightly, and Y/n smiled up at him.

"Well good luck, George. See you soon?"

"Probably the next time you save us. Lockwood has a death wish apparently. Doesn't let me research for long enough," he complained, shaking his head as he turned and left. Y/n had been right. Lockwood was being reckless, and he'd get himself, and quite possibly George, killed.

She and her team were just finishing up, with Kipps paying the bill and her other teammates standing with him at the till, when Lockwood came over. Y/n had stepped outside, breathing in the cold night air, and when she heard the door she instinctively turned to look, expecting her coworkers.

"Oh. It's you."

"C'mon. Don't be like that, Y/n."

She snorted. "You know you're proving me right, right? You keep throwing yourself into situations you can't win in, and you're going to get yourself killed."

"I'm not proving you right," he started, frown forming on his face. He'd had another growth spurt, she realised. He'd stepped closer to her, out of the way of the cafe door so that other agents could enter, and now he towered over her.

"Yes, you are. Stop being a dick, Lockwood, and realise that you're going to get yourself seriously hurt someday."

"Since when was I Lockwood to you?"

"You know when."

"True. Lovely message, by the way. Great parting gift."

"Yeah, well you were being an asshole, and it felt fitting to write 'fuck you'."

He muttered something under his breath, too quiet for her to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'Yeah, I bet you'd like to'," he repeated, louder this time, meeting her eyes with a smug smile on his face.

"Grow up, Lockwood."

"That's not a denial."

Y/n turned to him, looking him dead in the eyes. "Yes it is." She tried to sound threatening, but that was difficult when he was nearly a whole head taller than her. She was saved by her team coming out of the cafe, and she shoved her hands in her pockets, hunching her shoulders against the chill.

"You alright, Y/n?" Kipps asked, concern for his colleague appearing on his face.

"Yeah, fine. Let's go."

~~~

Those meetings kept happening, and it was beginning to frustrate Y/n.

Lockwood had started being more flirty, as if he actually enjoyed getting on her nerves, and the past year had been exhausting.

It was the same every time.

Y/n's Fittes team would be patrolling, or coming back from a job, or heading to a job, when they'd see two figures, or their flares, or hear their shouts, fighting an incessant number of ghosts. The group would jump in, joining the fight, and somehow Y/n and Lockwood ended up next to each other. She was certain he engineered it that way specifically so that he could irritate her with his comments, and that just irritated her even more. What he said was always the same thing, too.

"Do you come here often?"

"We have to stop meeting like this."

"What are you doing after this?"

When she told him to shut up and focus on the job, he'd ignore her, or answer with something just as bad.

"Make me."

"I'll stop talking if you join me later."

Both of those were said with smug smirks and winks, and Y/n went home to her crappy flat close to the Fittes building (she couldn't stand being near him after the argument) every night wondering what the hell had happened to her old best friend.

The last case had been particularly annoying.

The same routine had occurred, but this time there were three of them.

Y/n was surprised to see the girl, but as soon as she saw her fighting she decided that she liked her. She was feisty, and from what Y/n could tell, didn't take any of Lockwood's shit. She looked like the sort of person Y/n would be friends with, or at least get along with, like with George (they had limited contact outside of saving them).

But then the Fittes team had helped, and Lockwood hadn't come near Y/n.

She was glad in some ways, it meant she didn't have his incessant flirting in her ear, and she was glad, until she looked to see where he'd gone.

He was side by side with the girl, and they fought together like they'd been doing it their whole lives. For some reason it annoyed Y/n, despite the fact she'd sworn to block out any feelings for Lockwood other than annoyance and hate, and she grumbled the rest of the night. Kipps picked up on it, and questioned her.

"What's up with you? Surely you'd be happy that Tony left you alone?"

"Yeah, I am. It's something else, don't worry."

"Alright... well, don't let it get to you too much, yeah? We need you focusing on missions, you're too good at what you do."

Y/n nodded, flushing slightly at the compliment.

They made it to the cafe just as Lockwood and Co did, and Y/n bristled at seeing the three of them laughing together.

Well, at seeing Lockwood and the girl laughing together.

George she was just happy to see, he was always nice to her back when he worked at Fittes, and when they passed each other in the Archives or finished jobs together, and she didn't think she could ever be mad at him.

Lockwood and his new colleague, however, she could justify.

"Oh, hi!"

Ugh, she was nice. That made disliking her even harder.

"Hi," Y/n forced a smile, hoping it didn't look too fake.

"I'm Lucy," she said, coming closer to Y/n as the two of them trailed behind the others.

"Y/n. How long you been working with him then?"

"Uh, about a week? Do you... do you not like Lockwood or something?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You just... said 'him' like you wanted to rip his head off."

"Oh. Well, that's one thing I wanna do to him."

Apparently Lockwood tuned in to their conversation at that specific moment, because he turned around, smirk already in place.

"What are the other things you want to do to me, Y/n? I'd love to find out later. My place or yours?"

Y/n scoffed, pushing past him to join her teammates. Behind her she heard a thump, followed by a small "Ow!" Assuming that Lucy had hit him, Y/n smiled, and started liking the girl again. Maybe she wasn't as bad as she originally thought.

~~~

It had been nearly two years since Y/n had first met Lucy, and her second impression of the girl had stuck.

They'd saved Lockwood and Co far too many times since the girls had first met, but Y/n didn't mind. She enjoyed seeing Lucy and George (and Lockwood, but she wouldn't tell anyone that), and if getting involved and having to suffer Lockwood's chatter meant that the three of them lived another day, Y/n would gladly take that sacrifice.

Y/n and Lucy met up regularly in the down time that they both shared, either at Y/n's flat, or in a cafe or shop somewhere. Sometimes George came along, having snuck out under the pretence that he was researching at the Archives, and the three of them had lengthy chats about pretty much anything. Lockwood came up in conversation a lot, of course, given he was something they all had in common, but Y/n always steered away from the subject.

Tonight, however, she wasn't getting let off the hook.

"Why do you always do that?" Lucy asked, stuffing a chip in her mouth. They were sat on the floor of Y/n's tiny kitchen, take away boxes of food in front of them.

"Do what?"

"Whenever Lockwood gets mentioned you start talking about other things. Why do you do that?"

Y/n shrugged, eating some of her own food. "'Cause he's a knob and I don't want to think about him more than I have to?"

"He's always flirting with you though, and you always flirt back."

"Thanks for the observation, George. And I do not flirt back!"

"Oh you totally do, like earlier, right, he was saying something about how your uniform really compliments your complexion or something, and you look really good in it, and you said, wait, George, you take over, I need a drink," Lucy spoke.

"You said 'thanks, I look better without it', and winked at him. I had to physically push him out of the way of a ghost because he was stood staring at you like an idiot."

"He always looks like an idiot," Y/n mumbled, cheeks going red.

"George is right, he's actually gonna end up hurting himself if you two don't get on with it soon."

"He's at risk of death anyway! And get on with what?"

"Snogging," Lucy said, at the same time George said "Making out."

Y/n stared at her friends, hand pausing halfway to her mouth, chip in between her fingers. "What?!"

"Seriously, there's so much tension I could slice it with my rapier. Just stick your tongue in his mouth already."

"Lucy!"

The girl just shrugged. "We are seventeen, you know that right? I know people who've shagged at seventeen. I'm honestly surprised the two of you haven't yet, which is why you need to get on with it."

"That would be... no, that's too weird."

"Why is it weird? He's your old neighbour, you had an argument about something petty probably, and now he's flirting with you 'cause he's realised how hot you are. If he doesn't kiss you I will, just so I can say I kissed the hottest girl I know."

"Aw, thanks Luce. I'd rather kiss you than him, to be honest."

"The bar is low. He's punching."

"Definitely. You alright George?"

"I don't understand girls," he replied, having been quiet the last few minutes while Y/n and Lucy went back and forth. "What did you argue about, anyway? Because you've held a grudge against him for at least three years now and I have never known why."

"Was it petty?"

"No, Lucy, it wasn't petty." Y/n sighed, taking a break from eating. "He... We were fourteen, just finished all of our training, and he told me he wanted to start his agency."

"That is kinda petty though."

"Lemme finish. I don't know how much he's told you about his family," she paused, looking at the other two.

"Not much, but we know they're all dead."

"Yeah, and he showed us Jessica's room."

Y/n raised her eyebrows. He'd kept that room stubbornly locked since she'd died.

"Right. Well, a week after her funeral, he told me he wanted to start training to be an agent. We were nine, and he was definitely not okay at all. Anyway, we did it, and then like I said, when we'd finished, he told me he wanted to start an agency in his house and he wanted me to join him. He was still not himself, and I was just worried that he was going to end up killing himself. Hell, he'd almost hurt me a few times in training. We were the top two in our academy, so we ended up fighting together a lot. But he'd get... intense. Focused. But not in a good way. It was like... he saw anyone he was up against as a ghost, and he wanted revenge for what had happened with his family. We argued about the agency. I told him something about how if he did it he'd just end up hurt, because I knew him and I knew that he wouldn't think he had anything to live for. He took that to mean that I thought he was incapable, and he told me to leave and that I could come back when I'd fixed my attitude."

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, Y/n staring at her take away box in her lap, George and Lucy absorbing everything she'd told them.

"Fuck," Lucy finally said, breaking the quiet.

"Yeah."

"Wait, so you weren't just neighbours?" George asked. "You must have been closer than that if you knew him so well."

"Best friends. We're the same age, and our parents had lived next to each other since before we were born. Just made sense really that we were friends."

"Does he know? That you were worried about him?" Lucy questioned.

"Probably not. Should have guessed it though, given how close we were. I mean, he's seen me ugly cry at funerals, and they weren't even my relatives, they were his."

"Maybe you should talk to him? I know, I know, he needs to apologise for being a knob, but you were fourteen. I mean, it's three years on and he's still the mental age of a five year old, but talking might help?"

"Anyway, Lockwood's hopeless when it comes to women. Completely clueless," George added.

"How would you know?" Y/n frowned, not liking the way her heart clenched at the idea of Lockwood talking to other girls.

"Because he hasn't done anything about you, and you're probably the most amazing girl that's ever going to get a chance with in his life. Maybe he's intimidated by you."

"He's not getting a chance. Not like that. Don't look at me like that, Luce. If I don't kiss him that means I'm kissing you."

"Oh, alright then. I'm fine if you don't wanna make up with him," she replied, cheeky smile appearing on her face.

They left the topic alone after that, moving on to other subjects, but Y/n couldn't help but think about the boy with a death wish.

~~~

It was only a week after her evening with George and Lucy that Y/n had to help save Lockwood again (it was so ridiculous she was almost entirely convinced he came unprepared just so that he could see her).

"Miss me, darling?"

"In your dreams, Lockwood," she shouted back at him, dodging a Type Two. She gritted her teeth as she hit the ground, jagged rocks digging in and pain shooting through her side. Rolling, she stood again, panicking for a moment when she realised she'd dropped her rapier.

"Here you go, darling," Lockwood said, appearing out of nowhere with her rapier. "Do I get a reward for returning your belongings?"

"Yeah, you do, actually," she replied, getting close enough to him she could feel his breath on her face. "You get to not be stabbed by me. Duck." He did, almost immediately, and Y/n threw a flare at the Spectre behind him. Lockwood popped back up, somehow still smiling despite the utter carnage surrounding them.

"If I got hurt, would you visit me in hospital?"

"Yeah, to finish you off."

He laughed, and Y/n turned away so he couldn't see the blush rising on her face at the sound. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of something that definitely wasn't dead rummaging around where she had thought the Source for the cluster was.

Relic men.

"Lockwood?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Relic men, over by the Source. What are we gonna do about them?" She hadn't taken her eyes off of the two figures that were crouched by the oak tree, afraid that if she moved her gaze they would run off. When Lockwood only cursed, she panicked, wondering what was wrong. Normally by now he would have charged in to the fight, all guns blazing. Why wasn't he doing that now? Had he suddenly realised that she was right? Because this was really terrible timing if he had. "Lockwood?" Her voice had gone up in pitch, fear making it quiver. Relic men were nasty, and a lot harder to deal with than ghosts. Ghosts she'd been trained for.

"We're surrounded by them. They're blocking all reasonable exits."

"Shit. Okay. What about unreasonable exits?"

"What?"

"You said they're blocking all reasonable exits, yeah? So what about the unreasonable ones? Could we get out anywhere else?"

"Uh... there's a gap in the fence over there," he pointed. "But that would mean letting them have the Source. It's too powerful, we can't let that happen."

"Ugh, okay, hang on. Go and tell the others, just in case they haven't noticed."

"What about you?"

"I'm keeping an eye on these two, make sure they don't get away. I'll try and get closer, but there's a lot of Type Ones in the way."

"You'll be okay?"

"If I die you can take me on a date."

"That's... what? That doesn't make sense."

"Take it or leave it, Lockwood. Get a move on."

He left, casting a last look over his shoulder at her before disappearing into the night to find the others. Y/n felt unease creep up her spine, and she gripped her rapier tighter, her other hand hovering over the remaining flares in her belt. The relic men were still digging, and a few of the ghosts had noticed the disturbance now, moving over. Y/n frowned, a thought occurring to her.

Relic men waited until the ghosts were gone.

So what were they doing here, now? Why endanger themselves? Before she could think on it further, she felt the air shift behind her and ducked to the left just as a fist appeared in the space her head was in mere seconds ago.

Shit.

She pulled herself back up, readjusting her grip on the rapier and taking a quick glance over to the tree. Seeing the two relic men still there, Y/n whipped back around, ducking again just in time to miss the next punch. The man pulled out a knife, the edges jagged, and a wicked grin came over his face. Y/n gulped, then parried his attacks. He was relentless, swinging and then swinging again immediately after, never letting up on her. It was all she could do to keep her arm upright and strong enough to block him, and the ache in her side from hitting the ground earlier was turning into a throb that wracked her body with pain. The relic man noticed the weakness, and his grin grew wider, broken teeth showing. He became even more frantic in his attacks, and Y/n felt herself stumbling backwards over the grass. The floor was uneven, and she tripped, crashing onto her back. She got her rapier up in time to hold off the relic man's knife that had carved a path through the air to cut through her head, but he was stronger than her, and his blade was edging closer to her face. He was only using the one hand, and Y/n realised a split-second too late that his other hand was reaching for his belt, where a second knife was strapped. Her eyes widened in recognition briefly right before he plunged the blade into her side, and she let out a scream.

The pain was all-consuming, and it took everything in her to keep her rapier up, the shockwaves coursing through her body. She took a hazy note of the fact that he hadn't pulled it out yet, which was good, but her vision was blurry, which was not so good. At least if the knife was still inside her body then she wasn't losing too much blood. Her grip weakened, and she saw the other knife jolt towards her face before it disappeared, the man being flung backwards into the bushes in a flash of light. Lucy appeared, hair wild and filled with leaves, her own rapier in hand. She crouched down, pressing a hand to Y/n's cheek and checking if she was okay.

"Threw a flare at him, should knock him out for a while. LOCKWOOD! HURRY UP! Sorry, I told him to get his ass over here just now, but he's stuck with some ghosts, and they're-"

"Lucy?"

"Yeah?" Her voice was hopeful, glad that her friend was conscious enough to speak.

"Please stop talking."

"Y/N!"

She winced at the shout, and Lucy moved over to make room for Lockwood. Y/n rolled her eyes at the cuts on his face, and the gash on his arm. "You can't help yourself, can you? Gotta throw yourself into danger headfirst."

"Shut up. Can you sit?"

"Did you just tell me to shut up? Anthony Lockwood, do not tell me to shut up when I could be dying."

"Y/n, please, don't do this. Can you sit?" His voice was insistent, desperation seeping into his expression, and his glare was convincing enough that she tried to sit up. The pain in her side was too much though, and she ended up half-slumped against a tree. "Who did this? Y/n? Who did this to you?" His tone was lower now, with something dangerous in the background.

"Lucy hit him with a flare. He's over there somewhere." She waved in the general direction she'd seen him disappear in. "Anthony, where are you going?" He froze, looking down at her from where he now stood. The full moon was behind him, and he looked otherworldly in the silver light.

"Lucy will stay with you, okay? Just hang on. I'll be back in a minute. Don't die on me now, Y/n/n." He softened a little at the last part, trying to convey a million emotions in a few words.

"Wait, I'm staying here?"

"Yes, Lucy." And with that he left, stalking in the direction Y/n had pointed him in.

"You alright?"

"Brilliant, thanks Luce," Y/n replied, and then she promptly passed out.

~~~

A soft beeping woke Y/n up, and the harsh light above her and the sterile smell in the air immediately told her that she was in a hospital.

That didn't explain the warmth in her left hand though.

Blinking as she adjusted to the bright light, she turned her head to the left, and had she not been drugged up on painkillers she would have reacted much more quickly and jerked away.

But she was drugged up on painkillers, so instead she just stared at the boy asleep in the chair next to her bed.

Anthony looked peaceful when he slept, he always had, but he didn't look particularly comfortable right now. His right hand was holding her left, and he'd managed to pull one of his long legs up onto the chair, bracing his forehead on his knee while his left arm dangled off the side of the armrest. Yeah, he couldn't be comfortable like that. She squeezed his hand lightly, but he didn't wake. A nurse came in, and upon seeing Y/n awake, smiled.

"Your boyfriend must love you a lot. He hasn't left your side since you came in. Rode in the ambulance with you too, which he wasn't meant to. Paramedics said he was very insistent and needed treating anyway, so they let him. He's been really worried about you." Y/n was on too much morphine to fully comprehend what was going on, and her brain had stopped working properly at the word 'boyfriend' anyway.

"Oh," was all she said, and the nurse smiled, going through her checkups. Y/n drifted in and out of consciousness for half an hour before Anthony woke up.

He blinked a few times, just as she had, stretching like a cat, long limbs going everywhere but never removing his hand from hers. His grip only tightened, and when he saw her watching him with a small smile on her face, he returned it.

"You're awake."

"No, I'm dead," she deadpanned. "Obviously I'm awake, idiot. If I died I'd have to go on a date with you."

He frowned. "Would that really be so bad?"

"Yeah. You should be going on a date with me, not the other way around."

He laughed lightly, more an amused exhale than anything else. "You are so drugged up right now."

"Yep," she replied, popping the 'p'. His thumb was stroking across her hand, and Y/n wondered if he knew he was doing it.

~~~

"Ugh, do I have to live at yours? What's wrong with my house?"

"You live on the fifth floor and there aren't any lifts. You were also specifically told not to climb too many stairs."

"Yeah, but your house has almost as many stairs as my apartment building, so what's the difference?"

"The difference is that I can look after you here, because I live here. Don't touch that, it's still healing, and- ow!"

"Oh shit, sorry. It looks healed."

"Yeah, well you're not the only one that got stabbed, alright? Here, let me get the door."

Anthony sprung up the last step, fishing the keys out of his coat pocket and unlocking the door. Y/n followed behind, wincing when the movement up the stairs put pressure on her wound. She'd been in hospital for two weeks once she'd woken up, and had been told to stay at home until she was properly healed. Anthony had taken on the role of carer immediately, and the nurses had all mentioned (multiple times) what a good and loving boyfriend he was, looking after Y/n the way he was, despite his own injuries.

Neither of them had denied it.

Once inside 35 Portland Row, Y/n took a look around, and was surprised to see that it had barely changed in the last three years.

"Right. Tea? I think George has just put the kettle on."

"Anthony?"

"Yeah?" His smile was tentative, clearly not wanting to scare her off when she'd just started calling him by his first name again.

"Please don't make me sleep on the sofa. Because that looks like the same one your parents got when we were four and I remember how uncomfortable that one is." She pointed to the sofa in question, and he shook his head.

"No, you're not sleeping there. What sort of a boyfriend would I be if I let that happen?" he joked, and Y/n felt her heart flutter at the idea. "You can sleep in my bed, alright? It's only one flight of stairs, which will hurt, but it'll be good for you to get the exercise in, make sure you're healing properly."

Y/n frowned. "Where are you sleeping if I'm in your bed?" She half expected him to say that he'd be right next to her, but he smiled softly again.

"Sofa. No, don't look at me like that, I've slept in worse places."

"What worse places? Ant, you've got to look after yourself! God, you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

She started making her way up the stairs, huffing from the effort. She was tired, despite having spent just over two weeks lying down, and it was already late in the evening.

"It doesn't matter, alright? Just... let's just get you to bed, okay?"

"You're sleeping in a bed, and that's that."

"You are so stubborn sometimes."

"So are you!" She made it to the half landing, and hobbled over to the door she remembered being Anthony's. "You still in here?" At his nod, she pushed the door open, going over to the bed and sitting on the edge. "Seriously, this bed is big enough for the both of us. I'm not letting you sleep on the sofa, Ant. It's super uncomfortable."

"Won't that be... I don't know. Won't that be weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"Because we haven't... we're not... you don't like me and I'm scared you're going to murder me in my sleep."

"You... what? Uh... okay. I'm not gonna murder you in your sleep, Ant. One, that's completely dishonourable. I would do it while you were awake so that you could look into the eyes of your killer. Two, I do like you, I just also need you to apologise. For what you said."

"You want me to apologise? I was just defending myself, because I was hurt by what you said. You made out like I wasn't capable and that stung, because you'd always been my biggest supporter."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Anthony. I wasn't saying that at all. I was worried about you because you weren't yourself after Jess died. You were... I don't know. You weren't you, and it freaked me out when you said you were starting an agency, because it's a crazy thing to do! You sort of became a shell of my best friend, and disappeared, and I was worried that you would die and I would lose you because you wouldn't care about living anymore. I know that you are perfectly capable of fighting, and you're one of the best swordsmen I've ever met, but you're an emotional wreck, Ant."

He was quiet for a bit, staring into space as he thought about her words. Y/n sighed, lying down on the covers and closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She felt the bed dip next to her as he sat down. "I'm sorry. I said some horrible things to you and you had every right to leave. I don't have an excuse for what I said, and if you want to leave tomorrow morning then I'll help you move into your flat again. But I just... I'm sorry, Y/n/n."

Y/n sighed again. "I don't want to go. I've missed it here," she admitted. "And yeah, you were an idiot and an arse, but you're my idiot, alright? You have a lot of grovelling to do as well." He nodded rapidly, and a secret smile spread on his face, one of the ones he showed her and nobody else.

"Your idiot?"

"Yes, Anthony. My idiot." They smiled at each other, soft and gentle. A thought occurred to Y/n, and her brow furrowed. "What happened after I passed out in the park? All I remember is you looking murderous and asking who stabbed me."

"Oh, right." Anthony looked away, blush creeping up his neck.

"What happened?"

"He's not coming after you again, if that helps. Or anyone. DEPRAC completely purified the area."

Y/n gaped at him. "You killed him?"

Anthony shrugged. "He hurt you, badly, and you could have been killed. If Lucy had been a second later..." He trailed off, eyes clouding over slightly.

"Ant?" Y/n pushed herself up into a sitting position, wincing at the stab of pain that shot through her in protest.

"Hmm?" he turned to look at her, and his eyes went wide when she slid an arm up around his neck.

"Lucy and George think that we need to make out."

"They, uh... they what?"

"They think that we need to make out."

He swallowed thickly, eyes flickering between hers, trying to figure out what was going on. When he spoke, it was in a hoarse whisper.

"What do you think?"

"I think we should listen to them. They're normally right about things. What about you?"

"Uh... okay?"

Y/n hesitated, suddenly unsure.

"Ant, do you want to? Because if you don't that's totally fine, I just assumed that you felt the same as me, and we were both fine with the hospital thinking that we're dating, and I genuinely really like you, and I probably love you-" she was cut off by his lips on hers, slightly chapped but still soft.

"I do want to, I'm just hopeless around girls, especially the ones I've loved since I was about ten." He'd barely pulled away, his nose brushing the side of hers, breath fanning over her lips.

"George was right about that too, then," she murmured, kissing him again. "He said you were hopeless with women."

"Thank god. I thought he knew I've been in love with you for years."

"Oh you're in love now, are you?"

"Started about seven years ago, but sure." He pushed forward again, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek as he kissed her softly and slowly.

"Is that why you flirted with me?"

Anthony flushed, nodding slightly. "In my defence I am completely hopeless with pretty girls, and I wanted to know if there was any chance of you sharing my feelings."

Y/n kissed him again, short and sweet. "I love you, Anthony Lockwood. Just look after yourself more, yeah?"

"I love you too," he replied. Y/n prodded him in the side.

"And?"

"And I'll look after myself more," he said, smiling. "Anything for you, anytime."

They kissed again, for longer this time, exploring each other and being mindful of their injuries, and Y/n thought she could happily spend eternity wrapped up in his arms

"You're definitely not sleeping on the sofa," she said when they paused for air a while later.

"If you say so," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. She smacked a hand against his chest, face going red at his implication.

"Not like that, idiot."

"Your idiot," he smiled, pure joy on his face as he pecked her lips.

"My idiot," she replied, mirroring his grin.

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #lockwood & co #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x you

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horrorshow · 1 month

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What if sam killed john, dean lost sam in the finale, and john truly refused to work a toaster? In a show full of death, these are the deaths that didn't happen. For @spnficrecfest

DARK IS TOO HARD TO BEAT by mariahlee sam & dean, rated R — He told Dean hours ago that he was trying to do what Dad would want.

COLD by raina sam/dean, 1.7k, rated T — It's always cold these days. No matter where Sam goes, it seems the world has been dipped in some eternal chill that travels with him, never lets go.

THE HARDEST PART by mellaithwen sam & dean, gen, 4.7k, rated M — You can’t save everyone, Dean.

WHOSE WINGS, THOUGH TATTERED… by fleshflutter cas/dean + sam/dean, 2.2k, pg-13 — Dean Winchester's lost his mind and you're wearing his dead brother.

LOOKING IN by gracerene dean/omc, 2.1k, rated E — Dean would be wasting away in a backroom of a bar somewhere.

IF I HAD DIED by fleshflutter sam/jess, 1.4k, rated G — The fire changes everything. It changes everything inside Jess because she knows what she saw that night. She remembers bleeding out while splayed across the ceiling.

(THAT'S HOW YOU SING) AMAZING GRACE (or Ten Things That Never Happened to the Winchesters) by mytimehaspassed sam/dean/john, 7.2k, rated M — After the fire, you teach Sammy that love is like fighting, love is like pain, bruised knees and split lips and blood on the pavement, baked brown in the hot sun.

LIFE IN MONOCHROME by fleshflutter gordon/dean + sam/dean, 4.4k, rated R — John dies while Sam's at Stanford and Sam discovers Dean has a new hunting partner.

AND IF I DIE, I'LL DIE, I'LL DIE ALONE by blindswandive sam & dean, 1.8k, gen rated T — The life we saw for Sam at the end of S15E20 was only what Dean imagined for him. Sam joins him after a much shorter time.

B-SIDE by phoenixflight sam/dean, 4.3k, rated M — Sam Winchester is a senior at Stanford with his whole life in front of him when he dies in a tragic fire. He didn't know what to hope for from an afterlife, exactly, but whatever it was, it wasn't his brother Dean, arrived before him.

THE BLURRINESS OF BEING ALIVE by hathfrozen sam/dean, 3.5k, rated M — There are four promises Sam wanted him to keep.(Assumes everything about canon in the finale, except Sam is the one to die instead of Dean.)

BURNT ON THE EDGES AND FRIED INSIDE by xxamlaxx john & dean & sam, gen — Something as simple as a toaster can undo a father's life forever.

#spnficrecfest #fic #spn fic #it ends bloody or sad #sorry i love death and misery😊

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apocalypseornaw · 9 months

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A Memory or Me (Pt 2/3)

Sam Winchester x Reader

You overhear a conversation between Sam and Dean that hurts

You loved so many things about Sam. His heart, the way he cared so deeply. His brain, the fact that he could retain information about lore he'd read years before. His smile, the way it warmed you just seeing it. You loved the way he held you, his larger frame making you feel tiny. You loved the way he kissed you, the way that no matter how long the two of you had been together he always checked on your comfort level every time he slid into you, touched you, pushed you over that edge time and again.

You hadn't told him you loved him yet. For one you didn't want to push him. You were his first relationship after Jess, yeah he'd had a couple hookups but you were the first to stick around.

Maybe you'd hoped he would say it first, but he never did. The longer you were together the more you wondered if he would ever say it.

Bobby's house was the closest thing to home any of you had ever had, perks of your life. You were in the kitchen, making tea and checking on the cookies Bobby had talked you into making while you were in town.

Dean was outside changing the oil in the impala and in your car as well. Sam was with him so you had music playing and a couple lore books on the table. Things had been going good with you and Sam, even hunting practically full time with the boys was going well enough.

____________

You'd just sat down at the table when you heard Bobby call your name. You walked into the living room where he was sitting at his desk “You rang?”

He shook his head but you could see the smile playing at his lips “Go take those knuckleheads some water if you will. It's eighty today and they grabbed a beer each before going out” You nodded then headed back to the kitchen. The timer for the cookies had just chirped so you pulled them out and sat them on top of the stove to cool before grabbing two bottles of water out of the fridge.

_____________

You knew your way around the junkyard well enough. Dean would hopefully have the cars under the shelter in the back that was also used as a painting booth for times like when the impala was totaled around John's death.

You could hear music blasting and laughed when Dean's voice mingled with the radio on “You shook me all night long”

“Winchesters!” You hollered as you got closer and Sam was the first one to pop his head out, a smirk on his face “So I'm back down to just being one of the Winchester?” You shrugged “Well I mean I did wake up alone this morning. Could make a girl feel some type of way”

He raised an eyebrow when you walked beside him into the paint booth and held a bottle of water out to Dean “Like it or not Bobby didn't want you two dehydrating out here and when he says to drink water over alcohol you know it's bad” Dean took the water with a wink “Any other person I'd say but I mean at least the water delivery girl is cute”

You rolled your eyes and felt Sam's arms slip around your waist “Easy Dean. She's taken” you laughed and passed a bottle of water into Sam's hand “You two are adorable really but I gotta finish helping Bobby with some chores inside while I'm here” Sam leaned down and gripped your chin with one of his hands to turn your head and give him access to your lips.

The kiss was gentle and you smiled against his lips “Well talk about adorably nauseating” Dean teased so you pulled away from Sam to glare at him “Bite me Dean” “Ain't that Sammy's job?” He replied with a grin. You felt your face warm but shook your head “With that I'm going inside”

________________

A while later Bobby sent you out to retrieve the boys because he needed them to make a run into town. You were walking up to the open side door of the paint booth when you heard Dean say “So you and Y/N are coming up on a year and I don't know if I missed it but have you told her you love her man?”

You froze on the spot. You shouldn't be hearing this, it was a violation of not only Sam's privacy but the privacy between brothers as well. Yet you remained rooted on the spot “I haven't” Sam's voice came and you felt your stomach drop. Would you hear him say he loved you or admit he didn't?

“Why not?” Dean pushed and you could practically see his stance, arms crossed over his chest and green eyes boring into his younger brother. You heard Sam exhale and his stance hit your mind too, probably leaned against a wall staring at anything but Dean. “I don't know it's just, she's so different than Jess”

“And that's a bad thing?” Dean asked and you felt a sense of gratitude for him defending you even to Sam. “I'm not saying it's a bad thing but I had this idea of love, my future. With Jess it was getting married after college, a house and kids. Y/N is a hunter through and through, she's comfortable covered in blood and fighting anything that crawls its way out of hell. Jess was soft and gentle and easy going. Y/N is a hurricane, she'll knock you off your feet without even trying”

You felt tears burn your eyes, your mother's voice from years ago hitting your ears. Telling you that you held too much weight in your thighs and stomach, that you were too loud, too weird. That no one would ever love you. The woman had been dead for over a decade and still tormented you. “So you're saying you haven't told Y/N you love her because she's not a little housewife material?” Dean asked and from the edge in his voice you knew you were reading the situation right. Sam didn't love you because you weren't Jess.

“I don't know” Sam admitted and you turned to walk away but remembered Bobby needed them.

_____________

You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes before schooling your face. You could lie to cops daily,you could make them believe you hadn't heard anything.

You made sure your footsteps were loud and started humming your favorite song under your breath before opening the door. Both men turned to look at you and sure enough, Dean stood next to baby with his arms crossed looking every inch the disappointed dad while Sam was leaning against the wall looking like the teenager who'd been expelled.

You raised your eyebrows “You two good?” Dean nodded slowly then turned his eyes to you “Yeah sweetheart we're good. You need something?” You nodded “Bobby needs a supply run” “We'll be there in a minute” you smiled slightly “Ok”

You tried not to let Sam's words get to you. After all God rest the dead, Jess was gone. You were alive. If he couldn't appreciate what was in front of him that wasn't your shortcoming was it?

Still you found yourself not being quite yourself. You wouldn't sing along with the radio, if you got bloody on a hunt you'd always go straight to the shower and not even let Dean check your injuries first. You tried to be less of a hurricane but knew that was just who you were. You'd always be too much.

@lacilou @fullbelieverheart @prettydeaneyes

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #a memory or me mini series

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angelsdean · 1 year

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sam's "do i have to?" as his first line is so funny to me because some people will cite this as some kind of symbolism for the theme of autonomy issues and being forced to do things against his will (it's a halloween party, dude) but all this line really does reveal to us is that sam is a boring nerd who never goes to parties (he confirms this himself in 1x07) and is also whiney (younger siblingism) and a stubborn taurus (doesn't wanna go to the party! is trying to get his way by dragging his feet abt it) and kinda being a lame partner bc jess clearly wants to go, is all dressed up and excited, and sam can't even put in any effort? or even just, share in her enthusiasm? and his excuse is "not being a big fan" of halloween and that jess "knows" how he feels about it, except she really doesn't. because sam has not told her the truth about anything ever. so he just looks like a stick in the mud for no good reason. boo sammy. could've done the most low effort costume that i've done many years in a row, just get some cat ears, wear all black and draw a nose and whiskers with some eyeliner. done! and it's not even a monster or ghost or ghoul or anything to remind you of your hunting past

#vics spn rewatch #sorry we're being a little harsh tonight.

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lilyofthesword-writes · 9 days

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What Should Be - Part 4 (Batman)

Summary: You have a loving family, a cozy home, a great job - What more could a person ask for? But what do you do when an injured man dressed as a bat shows up in your home in the middle of the night?

Pairing: Batman x Reader (Platonic or Romantic)

Word Count: 1,036

Warnings/Disclaimers: Blood, injuries

Counterpart: Alchemy (Please read first)

Masterlist

You didn’t sleep again, but you weren’t about to let Jesse find out. After you had found the will to stand, you went to bed and laid on your back staring up at the ceiling until dawn broke. You waited for your partner to get up, vaguely wondering why the alarm hadn’t gone off yet.

What day is it?

A cell phone rang on Jesse’s side of the bed. They groaned and answered it. You shut your eyes and pretended to sleep. They kept their voice low to not wake you, but you knew what was being said. It was a Saturday and they were being called into work on some emergency. Well, at least it was less of a chance for them to find you out.

They hung up, rolling over to nudge you. “Hey, babe. Wake up.”

“Mmmm,” you feigned drowsiness.

They huffed amusedly. “I have to go into the office today. Are you okay taking Torri to his friend’s party today?”

You frowned internally. You didn’t remember any party today.

Peeling your eyes open, you breathed, “Yeah… What time, again?”

“One. At Amusement Mile.”

“Heh?” You shot up. “Why there? That’s where—”

Jesse leaned in and pulled you to them into an awkward embrace. “Where, what? That’s where kids have parties and fun? You act like its a criminal hangout.” They laughed when you scrunched your nose. “You’ve got to be joking. Babe, it’s just an amusement park. It’s been around for years. It’ll be great!”

You just nodded. They kissed your temple and left to get ready for work.

Later that day, you got Torrence ready to go and in the car. The drive was fairly quiet, only hearing the road noise and your son playing with a toy in the back seat. He was the one to break the silence.

“Do you think Adrian will like the gift we picked?”

“Of course, she will,” you smiled, glancing into the rear view mirror. “Why wouldn’t she?”

He bounced his heels on the back seat. His bottom lip puckered out in thought. “I mean… She likes Batman… A lot. But she has a lot already.”

“Bat…man?”

Torrence gasped, “You don’t remember Batman?”

He immediately went into describe him, hands going up to show the pointed ears on the cowl, but you couldn’t hear him. Your ears deafened with a loud ringing. You looked up in the rear view mirror and saw him. Batman, still battered, was sitting in the back seat. And he was staring right at you. You turned your body to face him. Nothing was there. Just your son who froze, hands in the air, with a look of terror on his face.

A horn honked angrily. Twisting back, a car going the opposite lane was in your lane. Or rather, you were in theirs. You wrenched the steering wheel to the side, veering away from the car and off the road.

You slinked through the shadows of the warehouses along the wharf. Graffiti littered the building exteriors.You could not afford to be caught by one of the gangs who called this home or what you were hunting.

Maybe you should have told one of the vigilantes you were going to be here or tried to get one to come with you. No. That wouldn’t have worked. They would have never let you leave your apartment if you said anything. They were definitely products of the Bat. You shook your head as you rounded the corner.

There it was. You saw an old ship repair building up ahead. It was the one you had found on one of Gotham’s older maps. Newer ones didn’t include it. The gangs didn’t go near the shabby former business. It was the only one not covered with grotesque spray-painted words and symbols. You made your way inside through a window void of glass.

Much to your dismay, you had to use a flashlight to see anything. The smog was too heavy a filter to let any natural light the moon may have provided. You hoped this didn’t alert your prey. Unsheathing your silver blade in your unoccupied hand, you used it to steady the flashlight beam.

Everything seemed untouched, layers of dirt and sand on the equipment and a constellation of dust in the air. That is… Until you reached the highest floor.

Abandoned boxes of office furniture had been shuffled about. They had left a clear trail across the wooden flooring so desperately in need of sweeping. Rusted gurneys laid strewn about while chains swayed from the ceiling. Your thigh pulsed in time with the chains. It was here. You needed to get to Batman quick. But where was he?

You stuck to the walls, keeping your back against them. A set of double doors settled just down a nearby hall. Your throat constricted. The hairs on your arms stood on end. This was a terrible idea.

Sucking in a deep breath, you began your power walk down the hall. When you reached the doors, you stopped. No ambush… Yet.

You tried to peer through the glass panels, but the grime and dirt only blockaded your flashlight’s beam. You nudged one of the doors. No squeaks from the hinges. Steeling yourself, you slowly pushed the door open, ready for the old metal to whine. It never happened. You slid past the threshold, gently letting the door fall closed.

There he was.

His gadgets and most of his armor had been strewn about the room. For his sake, his cowl remained on him. Batman was chained, beaten, his suit ripped and torn. A butterfly needle was stuck to his leg, blood slowly drifting through the connected tube and into a sealed container. He was left to dangle from ceiling… In the middle of the room. Cold sweat beaded along your forehead.

Bait.

Yes. You were 100% regretting your decision to come alone.

You pressed yourself against the wall and sidling along in hopes of not being caught off guard. Not that it mattered much. A hand shot out from the shadowy corner you were closing in on, latching onto your throat, touching what little bare skin was available. And you fell into darkness.

#batman x reader #batman x you #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fanfic #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x you #batman #supernatural #batman x supernatural

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mepuppy · 28 days

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Let It Ride - Supernatural rewrite

A.N.: I do not own the characters, nor the storylines. I'm simply adding a twist to the episodes. Please feel free to help me out with constructive criticism on the story or the writing. Sorry for the mistakes, not proofread and english is not my first language.

1x01 1x02 1x03

Word Count: 6.9k

1x04 - Phantom Traveler

Dean and y/n are each sleeping in a bed in a motel room the three hunters stopped to rest. The pull-out couch is set as a bed, but is empty. The door opens quietly, but is enough to awaken Dean. Then on the second click, of the door closing, makes y/n open her eyes but she doesn’t move. She was already facing the door and Dean, who who slips his hand under his pillow to grab a weapon. She can see a shadow of a man turning around, holding something. Her eyes meet with Dean’s and he starts to turn around slowly.

“Morning, sunshines” he says when he notices the other two looking at him.

“What time is it?” y/n asks closing her eyes again and placing an arm covering them.

“Uh, it's about five forty-five.” Sam replies.

“In the morning?” Dean asks incredulously while y/n groans and Sam replies with and ‘yup’ sitting on his ‘bed’/pull-out couch. “Where does the day go?” he sits up and stare at Sam “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours.” the younger brother tells him looking at the coffees.

“Liar. 'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial.” y/n says taking the arm off her eyes and sitting up to.

“Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV.” he replies cheerfully.

“When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?” Dean asks knitting his eyebrows.

“I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal.” he says looking at the older man.

“Yeah, it is.” y/n retorts

“Look, I appreciate your concern…” Sam starts but Dean interrupts.

“Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep our asses alive, so we need you sharp.” he tells Sam, who just shrugs “Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?”

Sam hands a coffee cup to each of the other hunters. “Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you.” he looks down

“You can't let it.” Dean tells him “You can't bring it home like that.”

“So, what? All this it… never keeps you up at night?” he asks, y/n lower the cup as she finished a sip and Dean shakes his head. “Never? You're never afraid?” Sam doubts.

“No, not really.” Dean answers.

Y/n reaches under Dean's pillow to pull out a large hunting knife and holds it up as evidence. “Bullshit.”

Dean takes the knife back “That's not fear. That is precaution.” he explains raising his eyebrows.

“All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue.” Sam says leaning back on the wall. Dean's phone rings and he answers it.

“Hello?”

“Dean, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You, your dad and your sister helped me out a couple years back.” Sam and y/n get closer to hear it through the phone call as a man talks.

“Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing.” Dean says

“ It's not back, is it?” she asks concerned.

“No. No. Thank god, no. But it's something else, and...uh, I think it could be a lot worse.” he sounds anxious.

“What is it?” Dean asks.

“Can we talk in person?” the three hunters look at each other.

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛

Inside the hangar of the airport. The three follow Jerry, the man from the fone call. “Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around.” he says sincerely “These two and your dad really helped me out, you know.” he turns to Sam.

“Yeah, they told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asks the man.

“Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.” Someone passing them says enthusiastically.

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking.” Jerry tells them annoyed “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.” he returns to Sam “Tell you something, if it wasn't for you two and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive.” Jerry looks to y/n and Dean “Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?” he looks back to Sam.

“Yeah, I was. I'm…taking some time off.” he replies with a small smile.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.” Jerry says and Sam looks at him with wide eyes while y/n looks down smiling thinking about her father figure.

“He did?” Sam asks looking at the man.

“Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?” The man ask the three hunters.

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now.” Dean replies

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?” Jerry says playfully, making Dean and y/n laugh.

Sam smiles and replies “No, not by a long shot.”

“I got something I want you guys to hear.” Jerry says as they enter an office and Jerry goes behind the desk grabbing a cd player “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.” he says and presses play.

“Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485… immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message… May be experiencing some mechanical failure…” There is a loud whooshing sound.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.” Jerry explains the whole situation

“You don't think it was?” Sam asks, looking at the man.

“No, I don't.” he replies.

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors.” y/n counts on her fingers as she starts listing.

“All right.” is all the man says nodding.

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean questions, hopeful.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage… fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” he answers apologetically.

Dean frowns before reassuring the man “No problem.”

They say goodbyes and leave the office and the airport, going straight to a Copy Jack. Dean goes inside. After a while he exits while y/n is laying on the back seat of the Impala and Sam is leaning on the door outside. They enter the car and Dean hands her Homeland Security badge. She grabs it looking it over “Wow, we’re on another level. This looks pretty good. Nice job.”

“Thanks.” he smiles at her smugly “All right, so, what do you got?”

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder.” Sam starts

“Yeah?” Dean asks when he pauses.

“Listen.” Sam nods hitting play on the tape recorder, which has been edited to pull out a scratchy voice.

No survivors!

“"No survivors"? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.” Dean interjects.

“Got us.” the woman tells him, sitting up.

“So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?” he asks looking at her.

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers.” Sam tells him and Dean just nods agreeing.

“Or remember flight 401?” y/n asks him about a case from their teenagehood.

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.” Dean’s memory comes quickly.

“Right.” Sam agrees “So maybe we got a similar deal.”

“All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?” Dean looks between the other two.

“Third on the list: Max Jaffey.” y/n shows him a piece of paper with a list of names.

“Why him?” he looks at her frowning.

“Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did.” she explains tilting her head.

“What makes you say that?” he asks.

“Well, we spoke to his mother. And she told me where to find him.” she motions to Sam with her head. Dean nods looking at Sam, then back to the road and starts the car. Since Sam’s the one on the front seat now he’s the one guiding Dean till they arrive at a psychiatric hospital. Dean parks and they head inside.

They enter the building and Sam shows a nurse the fake badge asking to speak to Max. She takes them to the courtyard. When they reach Max they introduce themselves.

They start walking together. “I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security.” Max says looking between them.

“Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple questions…” Y/n starts.

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?” Sam asks looking at the boy.

“Like what?” he questions confused.

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices.” Dean tries to explain to him with some examples.

“No, nothing.” they get to a table.

“Mr. Joffey…” Dean says but max cuts him as they sit down.

“Jaffey.” he corrects, looking at Dean.

“Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?” He asks and Max nods. “Can I ask why?” Sam and y/n sit opposite the two.

“I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash.” he answers.

“Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?” Dean inquiries him.

“I… I don't want to talk about this anymore.” the boy tries to brush them off.

“See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what.” Dean tries pointing at Sam and y/n with his eyes.

“No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things.” Max looks down.

“He was seeing things.” Dean looks at Sam and y/n.

“It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please.” she looks at the boy with understanding eyes.

“There was… this… man. And, uh, he had these… eyes… these, uh… black eyes. And I saw him… or I thought I saw him…” Max tried to explain it but couldn’t form any sentences.

“What?” she asks again

“He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.” Max looks deep in her eyes, she smiles and squeezes his arm trying to reassure him..

“Yeah.” Dean looks at both of them and then to her hand on the boy’s arm.

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asks and Max turns to look at him quickly.

“What are you, nuts?” he asks frowning. Sam tilts his head. “He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

They all nod. “Okay. Thank you for your time and patience. Sorry for any inconvenience.” y/n says getting up.

“Have a nice day.” Sam tells him and they all leave.

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛

Dean’s driving the impala, they are going to the house of one of the victims, to talk to their wife. “Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are.” he stops talking and follow the directions y/n gave him “Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight.”

“Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form.” Sam says.

“So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C.” y/n tells them when they arrive.

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean looks over at Sam. Sam turns to look at the perfectly ordinary house.

They go to the front door and ring the bell. A woman answers the door.

…

Dean, y/n and Sam sit across from Mrs. Phelps. Sam is looking at a framed photograph.

“This is your late husband?” he asks, putting the photograph down.

“Yes, that was my George.” she looks fondly at the portrait.

“And you said he was a...dentist?” Dean asks her.

She nods “He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that…”the woman chokes on a sob.

“How long were you married?” y/n asks the woman.

“Thirteen years.”

“In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?” Sam questions the woman.

“Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.” she looks at Sam, frowning. The hunters look at each other.

After a few more questions and the goodbyes, as they are leaving Sam states “I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense.”

“A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified.” Dean replies annoyed.

“You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage.” y/n says getting to the impala an opening the door.

“Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part.” Sam guides Dean until they reach the main street and they find a suit rental shop. They go inside and each picks up a suit in their size.

Walking out of the store Dean starts complaining “Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.”

Y/n shakes her head, but before she can say anything Sam starts ”No, you don't. You look more like a… seventh-grader at his first dance.”

Dean looks down at himself. “I hate this thing.”

“Nonsense, you look…” she takes a moment to admire him. Looking up and down. “I think you look nice.” She smiles at him “You both do.” she glances at Sam quickly before entering the front seat of the car.

“Hey. You want into that warehouse or not?” Sam asks once he’s already inside the car but Dean’s still on the sidewalk. The older brother goes to his side, starting the impala and heading to the warehouse.

As they enter the warehouse and show their badges to the security guard, who nods and lets them in. They walk among plane wreckage; Dean pulls out a device and puts earbuds in his ears.

“What is that?” Sam asks, looking at the thing in Dean’s hands.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.” y/n answers before Dean can raise his head.

“Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?” Sam keeps frowning looking at y/n who responded.

“'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade.” Dean grins proudly, turning the device to face Sam.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Sam frowns with a disapproving look on his face. Dean's grin disappears and as he turns to run the EMF meter y/n comes from behind Sam and gives him a smack on the back of his head mouthing a ‘don’t be like that’ to him.

When the device on Dean’s hand goes over a piece of the wreckage with yellow dust on it and gets an audible spike. “Check out the emergency door handle.” he scratches at the yellow dust and gets some on his hand “What is this stuff?”

“One way to find out.” Sam replies, scraping some of the yellow dust off into a bag.

They start to go back to the front desk, but when they get close to the door they hear the front desk guard “Homeland Security? What, one team of you guys isn't enough?”

“What are you talking about?” a distinct, confused voice replies. The trio of hunters understand what’s going on and start running in the opposite direction.

They hide and when the guards pass they peer around a corner and walk out casually. An alarm blares, and they run to the gated exit. Pulling off his suit jacket, Dean throws it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence, and they climb over. On the other side Dean stops to grabs the jacket.

“Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.” Dean states quickly, running afterwards. Sam stares at Dean in disbelief for a second and then follows him. Y/n was already running, slower than usual because of the heels she had t put on. And they head back to meet with Jerry in his office.

Once there Sam hands the mand the little bag with the yellow dust. Jerry goes to look at the yellow stuff through a microscope; what the microscope sees is replicated on a screen.

“Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur.” The older man says looking back at the three hunters.

“You're sure?” y/n asks.

“Take a look for yourself.” he says motioning to the microscope when a banging sounds from outside the office followed by someone shouting. “If you fellows will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire.”

As Jerry leaves, Dean goes over and looks into the microscope “Hmm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue.” he says looking up again.

“Demonic possession?” Sam tries.

“It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch.” y/n looks at the screen that is showing the microscopic sulfur.

“If the guy was possessed, it's possible.” Sam looks at her.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean says shocked.

“You ever heard of something like this before?” Sam asks the two older hunters.

“Never.” Dean tells him while y/n shakes her head.

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛

The trio is back at the motel in full research mode, with images and articles taped to the walls and strewn across the beds, and Sam is looking at something on the computer. Dean is reading something y/n is showing him on one bed while sitting on the other.

“So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it.” Sam starts

“Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this.” Dean tells him

“Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease.” he corrects his brother.

“And this one causes plane crashes?” y/n asks getting up and going to Sam

“All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?” Dean follows y/n.

“Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?” Sam asks and Dean snorts, turning away “What?”

“I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.” he says turning back to the other two and raises his hand letting them fall again.

“Yeah. I know. Me too” y/n looks at him when his phone rings and he answers it.

“Hello?”

Dean, it's Jerry.

“Oh, hey, Jerry.” at this Sam and y/n go closer to him to hear the conversation.

My pilot friend...Chuck Lambert is dead.

“Wha… Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?”

He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down.

“Where'd this happen?”

About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth.

“I'll try to ignore the irony in that.” he looks up and meet the other two eyes.

I'm sorry?

“Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.” Dean hangs up. “Alright. Let's go.”

“Where?” Sam and y/n look at him.

“Nazareth.” he simply replies and gathers his stuff.

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛

The hunters are back at Jerry’s office while the older man is again looking through a microscope. Y/n and Sam have their heads together looking at a computer screen and talking quietly while Dean is looking at Jerry.

“Sulfur?” Dean asks and Jerry nods. “Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

“With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news.” Y/n says looking apologetically to Jerry.

“What's the bad news?” Dean frowns.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485.” Sam explains looking at Dean.

“Forty minutes? What does that mean?” Jerry questions.

“It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death.” Dean looks over his shoulder to Jerry.

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in.” Sam tells Dean.

“Any survivors?” Dean inquiries.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP Said?” Y/n tells Dean.

"No survivors." He recalls. The oldest hunter pauses for a second “It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

“Read our minds. So I guess now is trying to figure out which of the survivors are planning on flying any time soon.” She says as they start recollecting themselves to leave. They say goodbye to Jerry and head outside. It’s night out. They go to the impala and get in.

Dean starts driving. Sam and y/n are making phone calls to all the survivors.

“Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” Sam hangs up the last phone call they needed to do.

“All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.” Y/n looks at him.

“So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker.” Dean states taking a quick glance at the paper in y/n’s lap with the names crossed.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job.” Y/n tells him

“That sounds like just our luck.” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel…” Sam starts but Dean interrupts.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass.”

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.” Sam tells him looking discouraged “God, we're never gonna make it.”

“We'll make it.” Dean and y/n say at the same time and look at each other.

The three rush into the airport and check the Departure board. “Right there. They're boarding in thirty minutes.” Sam points at the board.

“Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone.” Dean says and goes to a courtesy phone when he spots one picking it up.

Airport Services.

“Hi. Gate thirteen.”

Who are you calling, sir?

“I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um...flight 4-2-4.” Dean says after trying to see the board again and y/n whispers the number to him

Please hold

“Come on.” After a clicking noise another voice talks through the phone

This is Amanda Walker.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here.”

Karen?

“Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so…”

Wa—wait, that's impossible. I just got off the phone with her.

Dean pauses. “You what?”

Five minutes ago. She's at her house, cramming for a final. Who is this?

“Uh, well...there must be some mistake.”

And how would you even know I was here?

Sam goes around Dean to try to hear what's going on.

Is this one of Vince's friends?

“Guilty as charged.” Y/n gets closer too, the three are basically hugging at this point.

Wow. This is unbelievable.

“He's really sorry.”

Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?

“Yes, but… he really needs to see you tonight, so…”

No, I'm sorry. It's too late.

“Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic.” Y/n rolls her eyes at Dean but stops when Amanda answers.

Really?

“Oh, yeah.” He smirks at her.

Look, I've got to go. Um… tell him to call me when I land.

Amanda hangs up. “No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!” Dean tries one last time. “Damn it! So close.”

“All right, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane.” Sam turns around and heads to the counters.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” Dean says quickly, wide-eyed.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash.” Sam says looking at him.

“I know.” Dean says exasperated.

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You guys get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through the security. Meet me back here in five minutes.” Dean just looks at him anxiously.

“Look Dean, me and Sam can go, you can drive to Minneapolis and meet us there, it’s no big deal.” Y/n says, knowing what this is about.

“What? What do you mean? What's wrong?” Sam looks at the woman by his side.

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh…” Dean tries but don’t finish the sentence.

“He doesn’t like flying” she tells Sam.

“You're joking, right?” He looks at his older brother.

“Do I look like I'm joking? It just never came up before. Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?” He tells Sam looking annoyed and anxious.

“Alright, it’s no big deal.” Y/n takes a step forward and grabs Dean’s b the wrists forcing him to look at her “We’ll go. You meet us there at the arrival, okay?”

But Dean gets even more nervous “What? Are you nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.”

“I know it’s weird and scary but we can do it together, or me and Sam can do this one by ourselves. I'm not seeing a third option here.” She is worried about her best friend and doesn’t want to force him into anything, but they need to save those people. Innocent people.

“Come on! Really?” he tries looking past her head at Sam, but he just shrugs his shoulders “Man…”

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛

Dean, in the middle seat, is anxiously reading the safety card, with Sam in the aisle and y/n in the window seat looking at his brother.

“Just try to relax.” Sam tells him.

“Just try to shut up.” He answers folding the card again “And quit looking at me, both of you!” The plane takes off and Dean goes to grab the arm rests but grabs y/n hands on one side. He jumps at every rumble and sound making Sam smirk.

When the plane stabilizes Dean leans back, humming to himself. Y/n looks over, he let go of her hand after a while, even though she hadn’t complained. “You're humming Metallica?” She asks incredulously

“Calms me down.” He opens one eye and answers her.

“Look, cherry pie, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused.” She tells him. “I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism.” She whispers the ending

“Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy.” Dean scoffs.

“ Let’s just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?” Sam looks at both of them for theories.

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress.” Dean remembers what he already read about the subject.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up.” Sam says tilting his head a little.

When a flight attendant pass past them Sam stops her “Excuse me. Are you Amanda?”

“No, I'm not.” The woman smiles

“Oh, my mistake.” He excuses himself and she nods leaving.

Dean looks to the back of the plane to Amanda. “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she's already possessed?” Y/n questions him

“There's ways to test that.” He gives her a small smile and goes into his bag and comes out with a Virgin Mary-shaped bottle of water. “I brought holy water.”

“No.” Sam snatches the bottle and tucks it inside his hoodie. “I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God.”

“Oh. Nice.” He tells Sam and gets up passing Sam.

“Hey.” Y/n calls him

“What?”

“Say it in Latin.” She remembers him

“I know.” He tells her and turns around.

“Hey!” It’s Sam that calls him this time

“What?!” He comes back annoyed

“Uh, in Latin, it's "Christo".”

“Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot!” He makes his way to the back of the plane. When the plane shakes abruptly, he thumps a seat. Y/n grabs John’s journal from her bag and hands it to Sam, who start flipping through.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sam looks at y/n after a while reading.

“What sort of question is that? Of course you can.” She chuckles at him.

“How come you knew Dean was scared of flying?” He frowns a little.

She lets a small sigh escape “We’ll, I came along when you were five, Dean was nine. He was already taking care of you for so long. I think at some point he started to protect you the way a parent protects a child. Which is more than understandable and what was necessary at the time. But doing that, kind of made him hide some parts of himself, to be brave for you and to make your life…” she tries to find the word “I don’t know, less difficult!?” She chuckles lightly looking at her hands “Anyway, when John brought me to the motel he told Dean you guys needed to protect me, but I didn’t want that… burden on anyone else, I guess. So I did everything in my power to be on the same ‘level’ Dean was. Helping him with the same chores and proving that I could take care of the same things he did.”

She looks back at Sam “And it worked. We were confidants to each other. I would tell him everything that was going through my mind and vice versa. And these weird fears would just come up in the conversation every now and then, I guess.”

“Wow. I never thought about that.” Sam answers after a couple of seconds.

But before she could reply Dean came back and sat back down. “All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet.” He says raising his eyebrows.

“You said ‘Christo’?” Y/n asks.

“Yeah.”

“And?” Sam questions this time.

“There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.”

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere.” Sam leans back on his seat.

The plane shakes, again. “Come on! That can't be normal!” Dean complains loudly.

“Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence.” The woman says holding his arm.

“Chip, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four.” He knits his eyebrows at her whispering at her.

“You need to calm down.” She replies looking at Sam, looking for back up.

“Well, I'm sorry I can't.” He contorts

“Yes, you can.” Sam tries helping

“Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping.” He’s getting more and more anxious.

“Alright listen, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down. Right now.” She holds his face between her palms forcing his eyes on hers and talking more sternly. He takes a long, slow breath.

“Okay. Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum.” Sam gives him the journal already opened on the page.

“What do we have to do?” He asks after a quick glance.

“It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.” He starts explaining.

“More powerful?” Y/n raises her eyebrows worried.

“Yeah.”

“And why is that a good thing?” Dean asks him

“Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to hell once and for all.” Sam points at the page on Dean’s lap.

“First things first, we got to find it.” Y/n says looking at the brothers.

Dean walks slowly up the aisle with his EMF meter, getting odd looks but no readings. Y/n suddenly claps him on the shoulder, and he jumps.

“Ah! Don't do that.” He tells her and she smiles a little.

“Anything?”

“No, nothing. How much time we got?” He asks taking one earphone out.

“Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed somebody.” Sam appears behind her.

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane.” Dean raises his eyebrows.

“You believe that?” She asks him.

“Well, I will if you will.” He tries to pretend to be done with the whole thing. Dean looks down as the EMF meter spikes. The copilot exits the bathroom and heads towards the cockpit.

“What? What is it?” Sam asks over y/n’s shoulder.

Dean whispers “Christo.” The copilot turns slowly to face them, his eyes are black, and then heads into the cockpit. They all look at each other.

The trio heads to the back of the plane towards Amanda.

“She's not gonna believe this.” Y/n says

“Twelve minutes, dude.” Sam tells her.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope.” Amanda smiles looking at Dean.

“Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.” She frowns at him. Sam closes the curtain.

“Um, okay. What can I do for you?” She sounds suspicious.

“All right, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now.” Dean starts “We know you were on flight 2485.” Her smile disappears.

“Who are you guys?” She asks.

“Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.” Sam tells her trying to sound as honest as possible.

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now.” Y/n raises her eyebrows at her.

“I'm sorry, I… I'm very busy. I have to go back…” she tries to brush past Dean and y/n, but they stop her.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me, uh… The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead.” Dean tells her.

“Wait. What? What, Chuck is dead?”

“He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?” Y/n continues Dean’s trail of thought

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.” Dean keeps going.

“Amanda, you have to believe us.” Sam begs

“On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes.” She tries to put it into words.

“Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about.” Y/n exclaims relieved

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?” She looks between all the three hunters.

“Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.” Dean tells her.

“Why? What does he have to do with anything?” She looks exasperated.

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?” Dean tries again:

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot…”

“Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.” Sam interrupts her.

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you…” she tries again but y/n cuts her off this time.

“Okay, well you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out.”

The flight attendant hesitates. “Okay.” She leaves and goes to the cockpit. Knocking on the door and saying something inaudible to the copilot, who follows her back. Sam pulls out the holy water and the journal handing the latter to y/n, who opens it.

“Yeah, what's the problem?” The copilot asks as soon as he passes the curtain and Dean punches him in the face, knocking him down. He pins him down and puts duct tape over his mouth.

“Wait. What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.” The flight attendant asks panicked.

“We are gonna talk to him.” Dean says as Sam splashes holy water on his skin, which sizzles.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” Amanda starts to freak out.

“Look. We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.” Y/n tells her while the other two try to contain the copilot.

“Well, I don't underst… I don't know…” she tries but can’t organize a sentence.

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?” She asks and Amanda nods leaving.

“Hurry up, y/n. I don't know how much longer I can hold him.” Dean speaks quickly

“Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino…” she starts reading the exorcism.

The demon breaks free briefly and hits them both until Dean manages to subdue him again. Y/n keeps going. The demon knocks Dean off again and pulls the tape off his mouth. He grabs Sam by the collar and he hits the Journal, making it fly through the air.

“I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!” He tells looking Adam in the eye.

Dean recovers and hits the demon as y/n recovers the journal and tries to find the page and Sam sits there, stunned.

“Sam!” Dean calls him. Sam recovers and begins restraining again.

“I got him.” Sam says and the demon exits the copilot’s body and disappears into a vent.

“Where did it go?” Y/n looks up and asks.

“It's in the plane. Hurry up. We got to finish it.” Dean yells. The plane suddenly dips and heaves violently. Y/n struggles to retrieve the book that fell again as Dean splays himself against the exit door, screaming, Sam holds himself down. She manages to grab the book and reads the rest of the exorcism. A bright electrical charge runs through the entire plane, which then levels out. Dean comes out from behind the curtain with Sam and y/n.

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛

The passengers from the flight are disembarking to an area milling with uniformed agents (PARAMEDIC, FBI, FAA, etc). The copilot is seated in a wheelchair with a blanket wrapped around him, being questioned by an FAA agent and Amnda is being questioned by another agent when she spots the hunters mouthing a’ thank you’ at them. They nod smiling.

“Let's get out of here.” Dean says and they head for the exit.

“You two okay?” Y/n asks them. Dean nods but Sam stops and turns.

“Dean, it knew about Jessica.” He says.

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. All right? That's all it was.” Dean tries to calm his brother.

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” Dean calls them.

When they encounter Jerry again he’s shaking their hands “Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed.” He smiles “Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

“We'll see you around, Jerry.” Y/n tells the man and they head out, but Dean stops and turn around.

“You know, Jerry.” He looks at the man “I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me.” Jerry explains and the three jaws facing him drop.

“What?” Sam inquires

“When did you talk to him?” Dean’s turn.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call. Thanks again, guys.” He explains himself and leaves.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service.” Sam tells the other two Dean dials a number. As the voice message begins, he turns it so they can hear too.

This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.

Sam fumes and gets in the car. Dean and y/n follow, wondering.

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