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doctorbitchcrxft · 8 months ago

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Provenance | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y

Word Count: 6703

A/N: Taglist will be closing at the start of season 2! if you aren't currently tagged, and you'd like to join, please please let me know within the next two posts!!

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You gripped your beer tightly watching Dean getting a girl’s number across the bar from you.

“(Y/N), if you hold that thing any tighter, you’re gonna break it,” Sam snorted. “What’s your deal?”

You looked back at Sam but were unable to pull your eyes from Dean and his new “friend” for longer than a few seconds. “Nothing.” You took a swig of your drink.

“Are you sure you don’t know how you feel about Dean?” the brunet taunted.

You shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He snickered in response and returned to looking over the papers in front of him.

You waved Dean over, who held a hand up behind the woman’s back to get you to wait. You gestured again and his smile dropped. He said something to her quickly before making his way back over to you.

“I think we got something,” Sam told his brother.

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave; just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one.”

You rolled your eyes. “So, what are we today, Dean? Rock stars, army rangers?”

“Reality TV scouts,” he grinned at you, ignoring the bite in your voice. “Looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?”

“If by ‘not far off’ you mean ‘completely off the mark,’ then you’re spot on,” you deadpanned.

Dean shot you a look while he turned to his brother. “By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam responded to his question.

“Yeah, you can, but you don't.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. What you got?”

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all—” He trailed off as his brother looked back at the women at the bar.

“Dean!” you snapped your fingers at him.

He turned back. “Huh, what?”

“No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside,” Sam continued.

“Could just be a garden variety murder, you know, not our department,” Dean answered.

“No. Dad says different.”

“What do you mean?” Dean’s interest was piqued at the mention of his dad.

You pointed at the map. “John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second, right here in 1945, and the third in 1970. Same M.O. as the Telescas. Throats slit, doors locked from the inside; the whole nine. Now, so much time passed that nobody checked the pattern. Except for your dad. It’s frustrating how much better he is at this than me sometimes,” you muttered at the end of your sentence.

“Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up ‘til first thing though right?” Dean asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“Good.” Before you could stop him, Dean was off to the two women again.

You were fuming; staring daggers at him and downing the rest of your drink.

Sam snickered at you. “Let’s get you out of here before you end up killing one of those girls.”

“Nah, I’d kill your brother. They didn’t do anything wrong,” you responded, helping Sam pick up the papers scattered about the table. “How ‘bout the Telescas’ house?” you asked.

***

You and Sam headed back to the motel you were staying in to research the history of the Telescas’ home. You sprawled out across Dean’s bed with your laptop, and Sam sat on his bed with his laptop.

“Finding anything?” you asked him.

“Nope. You?”

You shook your head. “Nada.”

He shut his laptop. “So? You wanna talk about it?”

You shut yours, too. “About what?”

“Dean?”

“Oh, hell no,” you snorted.

“You two are made for each other,” he deadpanned at your boxed-up emotions.

“Fuck off, Sam,” you retorted. “What about you? Still not ready to jump back into the dating pool?” You snuggled into the blankets on Dean’s bed, reveling in his scent emanating off them.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What was she like?” you asked after a moment.

“Who?”

“Jessica. You never told me much about her.”

He sighed. “She was just… the best, man. You two would’ve gotten along great, honestly. She was—” he grinned sadly at the thought of her, “—so smart. So beautiful. Quick, witty, and…” he shook his head. “I was looking for wedding rings. Few weeks before she...”

You smiled sadly at him. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was,” he responded. A quiet settled over the room.

“Don’t you think she would’ve wanted you to be… I don’t know, happy? Do you think she’d want you to move on? It’s been almost a year,” you said. “Jesus, I’ve known you guys for almost a year now," you realized.

He chuckled before going quiet again momentarily. “I think she would. But Jess… I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully over her. She was my best friend, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get it. I’m glad you had that with her, though. Sounds like you really loved each other.”

“We did.”

You and Sam went silent once more, and you succumbed to the tiredness of your limbs and mind. You were so comforted by the scent of worn leather, Dean’s cologne, and whiskey, that you slept better than you had in years.

***

When you woke up the next morning, Sam was standing over you, shaking you gently. You popped up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and putting a hand to his throat. “Hey, hey,” he tried to calm you down, “Dean’s back.”

You released him immediately. “Sorry, dude. Uh… reflexes,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay. Dean does that, too.”

The man in question stumbled into the room tiredly. “Move your asses. Let’s go.”

***

You and Sam had just swept the Telescas’ house for EMF while Dean slept in the car trying to get over his hangover. When you returned to the car, you beeped the horn. Dean shot up a foot in the air and groaned.

“Man, that is so not cool.” He adjusted his sunglasses and leaned back against the car door. You and Sam climbed into your seats and began to explain what you had been up to.

“We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were, well, out—” Sam trailed off.

Dean’s smirk made your stomach drop. “Good times.”

“—we checked the history of the house.”

“Nothing strange about the Telescas, either,” you said, swallowing your feelings.

“Alright,” Dean’s gravelly voice came, “so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something.”

“The house is clean,” you said.

“Yeah I know, you said that.”

“No, no, it’s empty. No furniture, nothing,” you explained.

Dean turned back to you. “Where's all their stuff?”

***

You felt so out of place in the swanky auction house the Telescas’ belongings had been brought to. Even the Impala looked like an outcast in the parking lot full of McLarens and Corvettes.

You and the brothers wandered around the auction house, and you wrapped your jacket tightly around yourself.

“Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me,” Dean commented. He took some food from a tray table as a man came up behind you.

“Can I help you?” the man questioned.

You wheeled around to face him.

“I'd like some champagne please,” Dean said in a mock posh voice.

You could’ve killed him. “He’s not a waiter.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at you, and you held out your hand to the man. “I’m (Y/N) Dewitt. This is Sam and Dean Connors. We’re with Connors Limited. We’re art dealers.”

The man didn’t give you the courtesy of a handshake. You fought the urge to make an inappropriate comment.

“You. Are… art dealers,” the man said, clearly having difficulty grasping that concept. “I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look.” Dean, of course, talked through a mouth full of food.

You shot a sharp look at Dean as he took a glass of champagne off the tray. He turned and walked off, and you followed him.

“Can you chill out?” you asked him.

“What?” he asked through a mouthful of champagne.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. I don’t like this crowd either, but relax.” You noticed a painting just beyond where you and Dean were talking. It was of a family in an American Gothic style; presumably from the early 1900s. The family contained three young girls in frilly dresses, a man with a gaunt and creepy face, and a woman you assumed was the mother seated in a chair.

“A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?” a woman’s voice called from behind you.

You turned to the place the voice came from to find an extremely good looking woman in a sleek black dress with glossed lips descending the staircase. You noticed Dean beginning to ogle her as Sam answered her. “Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did.”

The woman smiled as she approached you. “Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.”

“I’m Sam,” he said. “This is my… brother, Dean.” Dean was still stuffing his face with food from passing trays. “And our friend, (Y/N).”

“Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?” Sarah questioned.

You snorted. You liked her.

“I'm good, thanks,” he smiled through a full mouth.

“So, can I help you with something?” she asked Sam. You knew she liked him; she was giving him the same look you often gave Dean.

“Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?” Sam asked her.

She grimaced. “The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” Sam asked.

The man from earlier came up behind you. “I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your polite disposition. “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Apparently, I do,” he said.

“C’mon, Dean,” you said, dragging his arm out.

***

You and the brothers found a decently priced motel and approached the rooms you had been assigned.

“Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?” Dean scoffed at his brother.

“Art history course. It's good for meeting girls,” Sam replied simply.

Dean unlocked the door to his room and chuckled. “It's like I don't even know you.”

You walked a little further down to the room next to theirs and unlocked it only to find a gaudily outfitted room full of obnoxious disco decor. The "do not disturb" hanger was even of John Travolta’s silhouette from Saturday Night Fever.

“Huh.” You dropped your bag off and headed back to the boys’ room.

“What was… providence?” Dean was asking as you entered the room.

“Provenance,” you corrected. “It’s like a biography for a painting. You use ‘em to check the history of the pieces; in this case, to see if they have a freaky past.”

“Alright, professor,” Dean taunted you. “Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but Sarah…” he smirked at his brother.

“Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin,” Sam smirked back.

“Not me,” Dean laughed.

You shot a look at Sam, too.

He seemed only mildly horrified. “No, no, no, pickups are your thing, Dean.”

“It wasn't my butt she was checking out,” Dean snorted.

You giggled despite yourself.

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information,” Sam deadpanned.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her,” Dean instructed his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, but took out his phone. You weren’t sure when he had gotten her number, but he left about an hour later to take her out to dinner.

You and Dean sat in awkward silence for a bit.

“So…”

You went silent again.

“What’s goin’ on with us, (Y/N)? You’ve barely spoken a word to me this whole trip.”

You huffed. “Nothing.”

“Obviously, it’s not nothing.” Dean held your challenging stare.

“Seriously, drop it, please,” you said.

“Fine. You wanna go get some food?”

You smiled despite yourself. “You know I do.”

You and Dean found a crappy diner with deliciously greasy burgers to stuff your faces with.

“So, how ‘bout you, sweetheart? Why don’t you ever go out?” Dean asked.

“On dates, you mean?”

He nodded.

You nibbled on a fry. “I’m just not one for hookups. I can’t take ‘em,” you admitted. “You, though, are king of the unattached drifters.”

He chuckled. “What’s wrong with hookups?

“I get too attached, which kind of defeats the whole purpose,” you replied. “The idea of being intimate with somebody I don’t even know makes me want to throw up.”

“Why? You’re gorgeous. Anybody would kill to get with you," he said casually.

You ignored the way your heart swelled in your chest. “It’s not that, it’s just…” you sighed. “I’m, like, allergic to vulnerability.”

“I get it,” Dean chuckled. “You know by now I’m not exactly the best with it, either.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re worse than me,” you quipped. “You look like you’re gonna throw up any time you have to tell me you’re sorry or something like that.”

“Maybe it’s just your face,” he retorted.

“Hey!” you giggled. “You can’t call me gorgeous one minute then tell me looking at me makes you sick the next.”

He chuckled. “I just did, so…”

“Whatever, Winchester. What is it about hookups you enjoy so much, anyway?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “Sex is just fun, I guess. Always helps me blow off steam.”

You scoffed. “I’m sure it does.”

“I’m serious! Helps me take a break from… all this.” He gestured around him.

“That’s why you have hobbies, Dean. Sex is not a hobby.”

“It can be! You draw, Sam reads, I fuck."

“Well, get a better one,” you scoffed.

“What would you suggest I do? Knitting?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, just… something a little more wholesome, maybe. You said it yourself, it doesn’t always make you feel great.”

“Never should’ve told you that,” he responded.

“Well, ya did, so.”

He snorted at you. “It’s frustrating how well you know me sometimes.”

“Oh, look at that, another crumb of vulnerability from Mr. Closed Book.”

“That’s the best diss you could come up with?”

“Hey, it’s not easy being effortlessly funny all the time,” you retorted. “It’s a lot of pressure.”

***

When you and Dean returned to the motel room, you pulled out your whetstone to sharpen your knives.

“Who you plannin’ on carvin’ up, sweetheart?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you answered.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he remarked.

“You do literally all the time,” you quipped. “You’re lucky you’re still in one piece. If you give me yours, I’ll sharpen ‘em, too.”

“Thanks,” he said. He handed his knives over to you.

Sam burst through the door at that moment holding a stack of papers. “Got ‘em.”

“So she just handed the providences over to you?” Dean questioned.

“Provenances,” you corrected.

“We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers—”

Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And?”

“And nothing. That's it. I left.”

“You didn't have to con her or do any… special favors or anything like that?” Dean questioned.

“Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?” the younger brother scoffed.

“You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that.”

Sam ignored his brother. “Hey, I think I've got something here.”

You headed over to Sam’s seated position at the desk and looked over his shoulder at the papers. “ ‘Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910’,” you read off.

“Now, compare the names of the owners with my dad's journal,” Sam said.

Dean pulled it out. “First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970.”

“Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it,” Sam continued.

“So what do you think? It's haunted? Or cursed?” you asked.

“Either way, it's toast,” said Dean, getting up from his bed.

***

Under the cover of night, you and the brothers broke into the auction house. You were consistently impressed with and sexually frustrated by how easy scaling tall fences and gates were for Dean.

“Come on!” Dean urged you.

You disarmed the security alarm, wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. “Go ahead,” you whispered.

Dean picked the lock at your cue. You shone your flashlight ahead of you searching for the painting. When you found it, you and the boys were in and out within minutes. You and the boys had clearly been breaking and entering for years. You found it comical almost how good you were. You brought the painting out to a field behind the arthouse and set it alight.

Dean dusted off his hands. “Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.”

***

Dean banged on your door the next morning. “We got a problem. I can't find my wallet.”

You opened it. “How the hell do you lose your wallet?”

“I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.”

“Fuck, dude, that’s bad.” You started pulling on your boots as he paced around the room.

“Yeah, I know. It's got my prints, my ID— well, my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on.”

You and the brothers hurried around the auction house searching for the wallet. Sam was clearly frustrated with his brother until he caught sight of Sarah.

“Hey guys!” she smiled.

You wheeled around at the sound of her voice and attempted to act cool.

“Sarah! Hey,” Sam breathed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ahh, we.... we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye,” Sam responded.

“What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two,” Dean grinned as he strolled up to the two. He took his wallet out of his pocket and shot a look at Sam. “By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you.” He turned to Sarah. “I always forget, you know.” Dean chuckled and you grinned as he held out the cash to his brother. Sam took it and glared at him. “Well, we’ll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta go do something… somewhere.”

“Smooth, Dean,” you told him as you walked away from Sarah and Sam. The two of you headed back out to the Impala and sat in it waiting for Sam. When he returned, he was frantically saying the painting was back in the auction house.

“I don't understand. We burned the damn thing,” Sam rushed out.

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Dean remarked.

“Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?” you chimed in.

“Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em,” Sam began.

“Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?”

“Merchant,” you answered. “I say we find us a bookstore.”

***

And so, that was where you headed. You found a proprietor whose personality was interesting, to say the least. You found his quirk had a bit of charm to it.

“You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?” he asked you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam said.

You and Dean were flicking through a book with pictures of guns in it. The proprietor laid a book of newspaper clippings on the table in front of you. “I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, are you folks crime buffs?”

“Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?” you responded.

He held up the newspaper article before him. It talked about the sinking of the Titanic, and just next to it, read “Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.”

“Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean replied.

“The whole family was killed?” You tilted your head.

“It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor,” the proprietor explained.

“Why'd he do it?” Sam questioned.

“Let's look. Ahh... ‘People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter…’ “ he skimmed on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… ‘There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.’ Which of course you know in that day and age, um, so instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave.” He drew his hand across his throat and made a noise to go along with it. You and Dean joined in laughing with the proprietor.

“Does it say what happened to the bodies?” asked Dean.

The proprietor shook his head. “Just that they were all cremated.”

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here. Somewhere. Right— here it is.”

It was a picture of the painting, but something seemed off to you.

“Hey, could we get a copy of this please?” Sam asked the man.

He nodded, and returned a few minutes later with it.

***

You and the boys sat at a table in the motel room and looked over the copy of the picture.

“I’m telling you,” you started, “The picture at the auction house, Dad’s looking down. Here, dad’s looking out. The painting changed.”

“Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?” Dean questioned.

“Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?” Sam asked.

“Maybe other things changed in the painting, too. Maybe it could give us some clues,” you answered.

“What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Dean looked down at you, confused. “I’m lost. Still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.” He walked over to his bed and laid back, crossing his arms. “Which is a good thing ‘cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend.”

Sam huffed. “Dude, enough already.”

“What?” he responded.

“What? Ever since we got here, you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?” he said defensively.

“Sam, relax,” you told him.

“Well, you like her don't you?” Dean pushed.

Sam threw his arms up and looked to the ceiling.

“Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consenting adults…” Dean trailed off with a smile.

“What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave,” came Sam’s frustrated response.

“Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam.”

Sam snarled angrily. “You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?”

“ ‘Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time,” Dean answered calmly.

Sam stared at him and huffed before looking away.

“Look, I’m not crazy about hookups either, but maybe it would be helpful,” you suggested.

“And this isn't about just hooking up, okay?” Dean continued. “I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you. And... I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy.” Sam’s eyes welled with tears as his brother continued to talk. “God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?”

“Yeah, I know she would,” Sam responded softly. “Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about?” you asked.

He wouldn’t answer you.

“Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…” Dean trailed off.

Sam picked up his phone and cleared his throat. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, settling back on his bed.

“Sarah, hey, it's Sam… Hey, hi… Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?... Yeah good, good, really good.”

Dean opened one eye and looked at his brother. “Smooth.”

You suppressed a laugh.

“So, ah, so listen,” Sam continued. “Me and my brother were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I- I think maybe we are interested in buying it… What?!”

At Sam’s tone, you and Dean snapped to attention.

“Who'd you sell it to?” Sam stood up.

Dean rose and came to stand next to you.

“Sarah, I need an address right now,” Sam urged her.

Once she’d given it to you, you and the boys sped away in the Impala to an upscale neighborhood. You and the boys were surprised to see another car parked right outside the building: Sarah’s.

“Sam, what's happening?” she asked as you and the boys ran up the front steps of the house.

“I told you, you shouldn't have come,” he responded.

“Hello, anyone home?” Dean banged on the heavy front door.

“You said Evelyn might be in danger; what sort of danger?” Sarah asked Sam frantically.

“I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.” Dean crouched down in front of you and you moved over to the windows, banging on them with all your might.

“What are you guys, burglars?” Sarah yelped.

“I wish it was that simple. Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good,” Sam told her.

Dean got the door open and you followed him inside quickly.

“The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend,” she said, trailing behind you and the boys. “Evelyn?” She moved over to the elderly woman sitting half-turned away from you. Something was wrong and you knew it; the woman’s gaze seemed completely empty. “Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake. Are you alright?” She touched her shoulder gently.

“Sarah, don't. Sarah!” Sam told her.

Evelyn’s head tipped back, exposing her slashed throat.

Sarah jumped back in horror and screamed. Sam put his arm around her and led her out of the room. You and Dean stared up at the painting before following the younger brother out of the house.

***

Back in the motel room, you and Dean clacked away at the keys on your laptops while Sam paced in front of you. A knock on the door stirred all of you from your thoughts. Sarah stormed into the room and brushed past Sam.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked her.

“No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's— alone— and found her like that,” she answered, wheeling around.

“Thank you,” Sam nodded.

“Don't thank me. I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?”

Sam looked back at you and Dean, and you shrugged.

“What,” he told her.

“What?”

“It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people,” he explained.

Sarah was still looking at Sam like he was insane.

“Sarah, you saw that painting move,” he sighed.

The woman began to pace. “No, no. I was— I was seeing things. It's impossible.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to our world,” Dean grinned.

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted.”

Sarah laughed humorlessly but had tears in her eyes. “You’re joking.” She looked between you and the Winchesters. “You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with.”

“Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth,” the brunet told her.

“Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and… and I don't want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

“Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well, me and my Dad sold that painting that might have gotten these people killed. Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell, but I'm not going to run and hide either.” Sarah strutted over to the door. “So are we going or what?” She walked out.

“Sam?” Dean said. “Marry that girl.”

***

You and the boys returned to Evelyn’s house to scope out the crime scene a little further. Sam picked the lock to let you, his brother, and Sarah inside.

“Uh, isn’t this a crime scene?” Sarah protested.

Dean smirked. “You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?”

Once inside, you and Sam got the painting down from off the wall to examine it.

“Aren't you worried that it's gonna kill us?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're alright in the daylight.”

You took the copy of the painting out of your pocket. “Sam, check it out. The razor: it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one.”

“What are you guys looking for?” she asked.

“Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, then it's doing so for a reason,” Dean explained.

“And look, the painting in the painting,” you pointed out. “Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something.”

Dean grabbed a thick glass ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass. You ignored how your body came alight as he wound his arm around you to reach the painting. “Merchant,” he read out.

***

Your next stop was a graveyard. Several, in fact. You stepped over gravestones carefully to avoid disrespecting the dead even further.

“What, are you superstitious?” Dean asked.

“A little, actually. I think I’m in such deep shit with the spirits already; I don’t wanna make it worse,” you laughed.

“You are somethin’ else, woman,” he smirked. “This is the third boneyard we've checked,” Dean addressed your group. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.”

Sam and Sarah talked amongst themselves behind you and you and Dean walked a bit ahead.

“Over there,” you said, pointing to a mausoleum. The group followed you into the mausoleum where you found four urns in front of little glass-fronted boxes on one wall. On the opposite, there were five brass nameplates.

Sarah looked at one of the boxes containing a little porcelain doll with brown hair. “Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.”

“It was a sort of tradition at the time,” Sam told her. “Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case; put it next to the headstone or crypt.”

Wind blew in the mausoleum, sending a chill down your spine.

“Notice anything strange here?” Dean asked.

“Ah, where do I start?” remarked Sarah.

Sam snickered.

“No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns,” said Dean.

“Yeah. There’s only four. Where’s the dad?” you questioned.

***

You and Dean discovered that Isaiah’s body had been buried in that same cemetery away from the rest of his family. You returned there that night with Sarah in tow.

You stood watch with Sarah while the boys dug the hole down to Isaiah’s corpse.

“You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” she said.

Sam climbed out of the hole laboriously. “Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?”

You giggled when Dean’s shovel tapped something hard. “Think I've got something.” He cracked the coffin open to reveal Isaiah’s rotten bones. You helped him out of the ground and began pouring salt and kerosene over the body.

“You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance.” Dean tossed the match he’d struck down on top of the body.

“God, I will never get used to that smell,” you commented.

“What? Burning flesh?” the older Winchester turned his head to you.

You made a face and scrunched up your nose to which Dean just smirked at you and chuckled.

***

You returned to Evelyn’s house soon after to make sure the job was complete and bury the painting. You and Dean remained outside and told Sam to go in with Sarah. You and Dean smiled at each other before turning the radio up. A love ballad played loudly through the speakers, and Sam turned to the two of you. You both snickered at the “what the fuck” gesture he was giving you. Sam motioned for the two of you to cut the music. You sighed and turned it off.

Before you and Dean could say a word to each other, the door slammed shut behind Sam and Sarah. You and Dean jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn, trying your best to unlock it.

“Guys! Hey! Is that you?” Sam called from inside.

“Sammy, you alright?” the older brother asked. Moments later, you got a call from Sam.

“Tell me you slammed the front door,” you said after you answered.

“Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl,” he told you.

“The little girl? What girl?”

“What’s he saying?” Dean interjected, leaning close to your ear and the phone.

“Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along,” Sam said.

You snorted humorlessly. “The dad was trying to warn us all along. He was looking down at her the whole time.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here," the younger brother rushed out.

“Well, Dean’s trying to pick the lock, but the door won’t budge.”

“Well, knock it down!”

“Okay, smartass, just let me get my battering ram,” you remarked.

“(Y/N), the damn thing is coming!”

“I know, I know, just hold it off til we figure something out. Get some salt or iron or something,” you responded. “Stay on the phone with me!”

Moments later, you heard Sam say to himself, “What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks.” Another minute or so went by before he spoke back into the phone. “Uh, (Y/N), give me a sec, don't go anywhere.”

You and Dean began to walk around the outside looking for an alternative entrance. A bit of yelling and crashing was heard on the other end of the phone. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah, for now,” he responded.

“How’re we gonna waste her?” you asked.

“I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn.”

Dean got close to the phone again.

“Then how's she still around?” you challenged.

“There must be something else!” Sam went silent on the other end, but you could faintly hear Sarah’s voice.

“(Y/N), Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains; same as bones.”

“The mausoleum,” you and Dean said in unison.

“Hang tight, Sam,” you said, snapping your phone shut. You and Dean sprinted back to the car, and Dean drove as fast and as wildly as he possibly could.

“One of these days, your driving’s gonna fucking kill us all,” you said, gripping the leather of the seat next to you and the door.

“Not now, (Y/N),” he responded evenly, driving even faster. He plowed straight through the fence of the cemetery and drove right up to the mausoleum. You and Dean jumped out of the car and hurried into the building.

Dean pounded the door of the glass box containing the doll with the butt of his gun, and then went to walk out of the mausoleum. “Come on, Dean,” he grimaced. “Cover your eyes!” He told you. He shot at the box, and you shielded your face as he did so. You leapt back into action and knocked away more of the glass with your hands, cutting them as you did so. You ignored the burning in your palms and took the doll out of its case.

You held the doll’s hair over the lighter, which Dean was having trouble lighting. “Come on, come on!” he said. Thankfully, the lighter caught the hairs of the doll and sent it up in flames. You dropped it on the floor between you and Dean and watched the rest of the doll burn.

Dean pulled out his phone moments later to call his brother. “Sam, you good?” He breathed a sigh of relief and hung up the phone.

You looked down at your bloodied hands. Dean followed your gaze. “(Y/N), you maniac, what were you doin’ pawin' at that glass with your bare hands, huh?”

“It seemed like a good idea in the moment,” you mumbled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” He guided you back to the car. He held your wrists and sat you down in the front seat of his car. He went to his trunk and returned a few moments later. He sat next to you and gingerly began wiping down your hands. You hissed and grabbed his hand at the pain. He looked back up to you and paused momentarily.

“Sorry,” you said.

“All good,” he responded and went back to work. He gently cleaned your wounds with an alcohol-soaked rag and began to wrap up your left hand. You watched as he worked, heart swelling at the kind gesture.

“Thank you,” you said.

“You’d do the same for me,” he muttered.

“I would,” you affirmed, smiling.

He picked a piece of glass out of your right hand. You hissed again.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s probably gonna need stitches.” He handed you his flask. “Drink this.”

You did as told and took a sip, swallowing sharply as you felt the first prick of the needle in your palm. “I’m not trying to be a little bitch. I’m really not when it comes to pain,” you said. “I can finish stitchin’ me up on my own if you wanna get back to Sam—”

“No. Let me,” he responded authoritatively. He looked up through his eyelashes at you before returning his attention to your fingers. He ran his along yours and gingerly cleaned the cuts, giving special attention to the deeper ones before bandaging the exterior of your hands. You flexed them painfully.

“Thank you. Seriously,” you said softly.

“Any time,” he responded.

***

“This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds," Dean explained to you. “Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Huh,” you said. “Psycho bitch.”

He scoffed. “You know you’re talking about a kid, right?”

“Yeah. Psycho bitch all the same.”

You and Dean were waiting outside of the auction house for Sam to finish talking to Sarah. You and he leaned against the car, watching Sarah and Sam talking at the door. Sam turned away from her before turning back moments later. He grabbed Sarah’s waist and pulled him to her, kissing her deeply.

“That's my boy,” Dean smiled.

“Alright, perv,” you remarked. You shoved him down into the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h

quite a few tags are broken; so sorry, my loves!! make sure you have my blog notifs on so you don't miss a chapter, and please let me know if ive misspelled your blog name!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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dianawinchester03 · 3 months ago

Text

Season 2, Episode 19 - Folsom Prison Blues

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Hi loves! Quick disclaimer, this chapter is a bit longer than I intended, it’s currently just a little over 17k words and I know a lot of people would love that lol🥰

But I feel compelled to let you know that it’s a long one and to remind you to take breaks in between, drink water and eat something because as a reader myself, I get lost in reading stories that I forget to eat and I end up getting yelled at😭

So get a snack and enjoy besties!!😘😘😘

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

After the successful hunt and seeing Dean hook up with her favorite actress, Y/N made it her duty not to sulk over this, refusing to let a guy get to her, even if it was Dean. So the second they entered that dive bar, she started her engine. Sam and Dean were at one end of the bar in a dingy old booth while Y/N sat at the bar, chatting up the bartender.

"What can I get you, beautiful?" The bartender asked, leaning across the bar, eyeing her like a snack. "I think I need something strong," Y/N said suggestively, giving him a smirk, swirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

The bartender chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver up her spine. "Strong, huh? Trying to drown your troubles, I'm guessing?"

“Something like that” She snorted, shaking her head as she tried to swallow that sick feeling down her stomach.

Sam and Dean were well into their fourth or fifth beers when they spotted Y/N chatting up a chick at the bar; a very pretty brunette chick. She was buying her drinks, smiling and laughing.

“Did heaven lose an angel?” Y/N joked, flashing the woman a coy smile. The woman laughed, leaning against the bar, resting her hand on Y/N's forearm. "You're not exactly bad-looking yourself, sweetheart," she said back, giving her a wink.

“I didn’t take you for the type to laugh at a cheap pick up line. Here I was expecting a drink tossed in my face” Y/N chuckled, leaning into the woman’s touch. The brunette chuckled, her fingers gently tracing Y/N's arm. "I guess I have a soft spot for pretty (h/c) gals," she said, her eyes darting down to Y/N's lips for a moment before meeting her gaze again.

Y/N bit her lip, extending her hand to shake the woman’s. “Y/N. And you are, sweetie?” She introduced herself. "Jenna," the brunette replied, giving her a dazzling smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Y/N." Jenna’s fingers were still wrapped a bit around Y/N's hand, lightly rubbing the inner part of her wrist with her thumb, sending shivers up her spine.

“The pleasures all mine, beautiful” Y/N shot back with a sly wink, “Can I buy you a drink?” Jenna chuckled, tilting her head to the side, eyeing Y/N with a smile. "A pretty thing like you buying me a drink? You know I can't say no to that" she leaned into Y/N a bit more, her leg brushing against Y/N's.

From across the room, Dean noticed Y/N was sitting at the bar with a woman who was, by his standards, incredibly hot. The sight made his chest a bit tight. It was a feeling he didn't often like to acknowledge or confront whenever it crept up on him.

Seeing her sitting so close to another woman, talking and flirting with her so openly, it was grinding his gears and not in a way he liked...yep, he’s a hypocritical asshole.

Dean's jaw tightened as he watched Jenna lean in and whisper something in Y/N's ear; she'd thrown her head back with a laugh, shaking her head. He felt himself clenching his jaw as he took another mouthful of his beer while Sam sat beside him on his laptop, practically giggling into his beer because of Dean’s growing jealous of seeing y/n and Jenna, as if he didn’t just hook up with her favorite actress.

After a few more rounds and a copious amount of flirting from Jenna, Y/N suddenly jumped down off her stool. She then wrapped an arm around Jenna’s waist and pulled her away from the bar. The brunette woman let out a playful gasp, a smile on her face as she intertwined her fingers with Y/N’s. “Where are we going, gorgeous?” she asked, shooting Y/N a sultry smile.

Y/N chuckled, turning her head to give Jenna a wink. "Somewhere more…private" she said, giving Jenna's hip a squeeze. Her eyes flicked over her shoulder to where Sam and Dean sat, and she noticed how Dean looked rather brooding. She felt a little smug satisfaction from that.

____________________________________________

Y/N was pushing Jenna against the closed door of her motel room, their bodies pressed together as they frantically kissed. Y/N’s hands were on Jenna’s hips, fingers sliding under her shirt to brush against her skin, while Jenna’s hands were tangled in Y/N's hair, pulling it loose from the bun she kept it in. All while Y/N ignored the pangs of guilt and the voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Dean.

They stumbled into the room, their lips still connected as they stumbled back towards the bed. Y/N’s hands roamed, pushing Jenna’s shirt up her stomach, pressing kisses to her throat and collarbone. She was trying to drown out the thoughts of a certain Winchester brother in her head, replacing them with the feeling and scent of Jenna.

Jenna’s hands went to the hem of Y/N's shirt, pulling it up and over her head, before they both fell onto the bed. Jenna was now nipping and sucking at her neck, her hands sliding down Y/N's body, making her gasp.

Y/N moaned lightly at the feeling of Jenna’s mouth against her neck, and before she could even think about what she was doing, she suddenly flipped them so she was on top, pinning Jenna’s hands above her head.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sun spilling through the motel room curtain. Her eyes fluttered open. She was met with the sight of Jenna sleeping peacefully beside her, her hair messy from all the fun last night, but she had a peaceful expression on her face. Her head was pressed into Y/N’s naked chest, the hunter’s arm draped protectively around the petite brunette. Y/N smiled as it soon faded when the memory of the previous night finally caught up to her.

The sound of her phone ringing pushed her out of her thoughts. With a groan, she fumbled around her jacket on the floor until her hand wrapped around her cellphone. She answered the phone, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

"Hello?" Y/N said wearily into the phone. She could faintly hear the sounds of Sam and Dean arguing in the background. "Oh good you're awake" Dean grumbled, his voice gravelly and filled with annoyance. "We found a case"

“Dean, it’s-“ She checked the time on the wall clock, “6am!” She lowly exclaimed. “Couldn’t this have waited?” Y/N spat, pulling Jenna into her chest closer. “No it couldn’t have ‘waited’.” Dean snarked, “We got bodies piling in a prison and we’re wasting time waiting for your beauty rest” he huffed, making rude gagging noises.

“Oh for fucks sake- fine. Give me 10 minutes” Y/N cursed, groaned from her pounding hangover. “See ya soon,” Dean grumbled before the call went dead. Y/N dropped her phone next to her on the bed before looking down at Jenna, who was still asleep.

Y/N didn’t want to wake up the woman, but she knew she had to leave. With a soft sigh, she placed soft kisses along Jenna’s shoulder as she began to stir. "Jenna, I have to go,” she whispered, continuing to place gentle kisses along her bare shoulder.

Jenna let out a soft grumble, burying her face further into Y/N’s chest. Y/N chuckled softly, her hand brushing through Jenna’s hair. She would’ve loved to stay in bed with the woman, but duty called.

After a few minutes of convincing and more kisses, Jenna finally peeled her face away from Y/N's chest, groggily blinking her eyes open. She looked so damn adorable with her hair messy, her eyes half-lidded, and her lips in a pout.

“You have to go?” she mumbled out, her voice filled with annoyance. “Yeah, I’m sorry” Y/N apologized, pressing a kiss to her lips before forcefully peeling herself from the bed.

Jenna whined as Y/N untangled herself from her, and the hunter chuckled. She was now sitting up in bed, the comforter pooled around her hips.

After a quick (yet steamy) shower together and a change of clothes, Y/N was getting ready to leave. Jenna sat on the motel bed, her back propped up against the headboard, watching Y/N finish buttoning up her overshirt.

“You sure you can’t stay a few more hours?” Jenna joked, giving Y/N a small pout. Her eyes were locked on Y/N's neck, which was littered with various hickeys, mirroring Jenna’s neck.

“Duty calls, sweetie” Y/N chuckled, lacing up her combat boots. A knock at the door startled them, “Come on, Princess. We don’t got all day!” Dean's voice boomed from behind the door, along with Sam’s, “Chill out dude, give the girl a break” this made Y/N roll her eyes in annoyance.

“Hold on a second, asshat!” Y/N called back, placing on her leather jacket before slinging her bag over her shoulder. A small smirk appeared on her face, and she turned to face Jenna, who looked rather disheartened at Y/N leaving. But Jenna swallowed it down and slung her own bag over her shoulder.

Y/N pulled open the motel door, revealing Sam and Dean on the other side. Dean’s jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on the hickeys decorating Y/N’s neck. It took every inch of self-control he had to keep his mouth shut.

Sam, meanwhile, was giving Y/N a proud knowing smile, but he also noticed how pissed off and brooding his older brother was.

Jenna then appeared behind Y/N, giving her a small smile and wrapping her arms around her waist. "I guess this is where we part ways," she said, placing a gentle kiss on Y/N's cheek. Y/N returned the smile, wrapping her arms around Jenna in return, and leaned her back into her chest.

This made Dean's eye twitch, even more, "I really did have a great night, darlin',” Y/N said, placing a hand on Jenna's hip, giving it a squeeze. Jenna looked down at the floor, fiddling with the edge of her shirt.

“Just wish you could’ve, y’know, stayed a bit longer,” she mumbled with a pout. Y/N grinned, pressing a final kiss to her lips. “Oh, trust me I would’ve loved to keep you all to myself a bit longer,” Y/N replied in a hushed tone, her hand going up to caress Jenna's cheek. Their little bubble was interrupted by Dean clearing his throat, an obvious impatient look on his face.

"Can we get a move on? We got a case to solve" he spat out. Sam shot Y/N an apologetic glance, but Y/N just shook her head, her own eye twitching in annoyance as they darkened. “Watch your tone with me, Winchester” She warned harshly, narrowing her eyes at him before turning back to Jenna with a soft smile. “I’ll see you around, hun. And I’ll call you”

Jenna smiled, “Hopefully sooner rather than later” she said, giving Y/N a final squeeze before pulling away. Y/N returned the smile, placing a chaste kiss to her cheek before walking out of the motel room, not even bothering to look at Dean as she headed towards the impala.

“Don’t judge me, charming” She spat with a smug smirk, opening the back door as she and Sam shared a quick high-five. Dean scoffed as he made his way to the driver’s door. “Whatever you say, Princess” he muttered as he got in the car, starting the engine. Sam chuckled from the passenger seat as Y/N got in, a knowing smile on his face.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, closing the door of the impala with a slam. Dean glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his left eye twitching at the sight of some faint hickeys still visible on her skin.

Needless to say, Y/N definitely enjoyed herself last night. And she was intending on calling Jenna.

____________________________________________

•One Week Later

Little Rock, Arkansas

Arkansas Museum of Anthropology

Sam and Dean Winchester shone their lights in the dimly lit halls of the museum, “This way” Dean whispered to his brother, ushering him down the hall. “I hate this plan, Dean,” Sam whispered back, following behind his brother. “Yeah, I got that the first 10 times I heard it” Dean muttered back sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

The two continued down the hall, purposefully setting off security alarms as they walked down. They made it to a case, picking the lock and opening it. Retrieving some old antique weapons. The unlocking of a door down the hall caught their attention, the two shared an alarmed look before stuffing the items into their bags and rushing down the hall, right into the arms of police officers.

“Freeze!” Two officers yelled at them, pointing their guns and flashlights, they spun around to be met with another pair of officers. “Don’t move!” The other pair ordered. They attempted to make a break for it but they were bombarded by another pair of police officers.

“I said freeze!”

“Hold it right there!”

“Get down on your knees now!”

Both Winchesters did immediately as told, Dean wore a smirk as he got down on his knees with his hands pressed to the back of his head while Sam looked terrified. The cops handcuffed their hands behind their heads as Sam shot his brother a deadly glare. Dean just shrugged in return.

____________________________________________

“Front. To the right” The photographer instructed Sam as he took his mugshot. The younger Winchester looked stoic as he took his picture.

While Dean, “I call this one the Blue Steel” Dean snarked before pursing his lips and furrowing his brows in an exasperated attempt to joke the situation away. “Yeah, that’s great. To the right. Okay. Back to the lineup” The photographer deadpanned.

“Wait. Who looks better? Me or Nick Nolte?” Dean smirked, “Shut up!” The photographer groaned in annoyance.

As they were shoved into adjoining interview rooms, Dean began drumming on the table, whistling and even kicking the chair to try and annoy a certain brother sitting in the interrogation room next to his own. Dean smirked as he heard a muffled “Cut it out!” from the room next to his, he did it again and in reply. “Knock it off!” Came the reply.

The door finally opened revealing Victor Henriksen in his formal FBI attire and a familiar face. Dean instantly recognized the man to be Alexander Thompson, Y/N’s ex boyfriend from high school. He clenched his jaw, his eyes darkening as they connected with Thompson’s. “Well, it’s about time. I’ll have a cheeseburger” Dean sassed.

Victor tilted his head at Dean as Alexander shut the door behind him, a grim look etched on the cop-turn-FBI Agent’s face. “Extra onions” He shot at Xander with distaste. “You think you’re funny,” Victor scoffed. Dean pursed his lips, “I think I’m adorable” Dean shot back with sass, flashing Victor a cheeky smile.

“They letting anyone into the FBI now? Last I saw you, you were working a shitty beat” Dean snarked at Alexander, the envy and hatred clear in his tone. Xander clenched his jaw, standing across from Dean, his hands on his hips, while Victor stood beside him, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Last I saw you, I was picking your ass up on that shitty beat” Thompson rebutted with equal sass.

“What are you, here to measure my dick?” Dean snapped, shooting the ex-boyfriend a venomous glare. “I don’t have my ruler on me” Xander replied back, just as venomously, the smug smirk on his face made a fire grow in Dean’s chest.

Victor chuckled in amusement at the two men with clear vendettas against each other, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Dean.” Victor chimed in, glaring at Dean, who’s eyes were piercing Alexander’s. Dean finally broke his gaze on the agent and turned to Victor. “I’m Special Agent Victor Henricksen. This is my partner, whom you seem to know, Special Agent Alexander Thompson.”

“Henricksen. Not the Milwaukee Agent Hendricksen” Dean said in recognition, the smug look returning to his face. “Live and in person” Victor confirmed, rolling his eyes. Dean chuckled as Victor took out a picture of Dean and Y/N at the bank robbery. “Nice shot” Victor said sarcastically, Dean noticed Alexander gulp when Victor tossed the photo on the table.

Assuming that y/n still had some weight on his heart, Dean rolled his eyes. “Thanks. You should see us from the back” Dean stated nonchalantly as he looked at the picture before leaning back in his chair. Xander’s glare darkened when Dean made the comment, wanting nothing more than to smack the smirk off the hunter’s face.

Victor didn’t miss the jealous look on Xander’s face nor did he miss the venomous glare that he sent back at Dean. Victor could sense the built-up hatred the two men had for each other.

“You can hang that up in your cell at Supermax. Right after you tell us where Y/N is” Dean kept the smug look on his face, knowing that he wasn't gonna give up his girl even if it meant torturing it out of him. “Alright, maybe we can just forget the cheeseburgers, huh?” Dean chuckled.

“Oh, yeah. Keep that game face on. Try and cover up how cornered you are” Victor shot back as Dean pursed his lips. “Read him the charges” He instructed Alexander. The agent rested his hands on his hips as he began, “We got mail fraud, credit card fraud, grave desecration-” Xander began.

“Skip to the good ones” Victor cut him off. “Armed robbery, kidnapping and, oh, three counts of first degree murder” Xander smirked. “And after Milwaukee, your brother and your girlfriend are now suspects in murder cases themselves.” Victor chimed in, Alexander had to stop himself from flinching when he referred to y/n as Dean’s girlfriend while the elder Winchester smirked.

Trying to mask his clear irritation. “I’d say for you three, ‘screwed to hell’ is a major understatement” Victor snarked, a smug look on his face. “Well, where there’s life, there’s hope, huh?” Dean snarked. “See, that’s what I kept thinking when I was searching for your asses all over hell and gone.” Victor shot back.

Xander clenched his jaw, his face turning a slight shade of red in anger as the elder Winchester chuckled in amusement. He continued his smirk as he leaned forward with his hands clasped together. “You searched for me on your own time?” Dean asked, his voice dripping with sass.

He leaned down on the table, pressing his hands to it. “Your dads taught you well. The way you cover your tracks. And after Milwaukee, the way you-” Victor whistled, “-vanished. Near went nuts trying to find you. But two outta three, I’d say I did great myself” This line from Victor made Dean snort. “Ask him,” Victor pointed to Xander

“He damn near went nuts” Xander deadpanned as Dean craned his head back over to him, wearing a cocky grin on his face while Dean glared at him. “And after all that, you get tripped up on a motion detector” Victor said in a low tone. “Pretty rookie move” He snorted. “Gotta say, I was…surprised”

“Yeah, you and me both” Dean’s grin widened as he leaned back in his seat. Xander clenched his jaw, his hands clenching in a fist as he tried to hold himself back from punching the smirk off his face. “We got into a tight spot,” Dean added.

“Henricksen. Can you give me a minute with him?” Alexander chimed in. Victor turned to the agent, an amused look on his face. “Sure” He said before eyeing Dean and walking out of the room. Dean’s cocky smile dropped slightly when he realized he was alone with Xander.

“I'm gonna keep it real with you, Dean” Alexander snapped, leaning down to face Dean. His hands pressed into the table. “I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here to do my job. Now, where the fuck is Y/N?!” He demanded, his voice filled with authority.

Dean raised his eyebrow, his lips curling up in a cocky smirk once again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Dean replied in a sarcastic tone. Alexander’s jaw clenched tightly, his lips twisted into a grimace as he tried to control his anger.

“Look, smart ass,” Xander began, his jaw grinding in frustration. He grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward so that they were face to face. “She was a good person. And this crap you’ve gotten her and Sam into, it’s on you!” Xander growled in disgust, shoving the elder Winchester back forcefully, causing him to stumble back into his chair with an annoyed glare etched on his features.

Dean’s hands clenched into fists tightly in his cuffs. His glare darkened significantly. “Don’t you dare pin this on me. Y/N is her own grown woman, she can make her own decisions” He warned, his voice low and menacing. His muscles tensed as the anger boiled inside him, he wanted nothing to smack the agent across the face.

“Where.Is.She?” Xander asked again. Dean gritted his teeth, he felt his irritation growing by the second. “Somewhere where you won’t touch her. I swear to god, if you lay one finger on her, I will kill you” Dean threatened, the anger was now clear in his voice.

Xander scoffed, shaking his head at the fact that Dean threatened to kill an officer of the law, “After all these years, you’re still pining after her like a lovesick puppy” The agent chuckled dryly. The fire inside Dean's chest burned with every word that came out of Xander's mouth.

His jaw ached from how tightly he clenched his teeth and his knuckles turned white from how hard he clenched his hands into fists. “You have no idea what you’re talking about” He snarled back through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I think I do,” Xander shot back, a smug look plastered on his face which only made the anger inside of Dean grow more as he picked up the picture of them on the table. “You have fun in Supermax, dick. And when we do find Y/N, I’m gonna make sure she doesn’t see your sorry ass again” Xander spat, fixing his suit and with that, he left the interrogation room.

Dean slammed his fists against the table, cursing as the door slammed shut. The anger inside him was at its boiling point. He growled lowly, the veins on his forehead popping and a muscle in his jaw twitching.

____________________________________________

Green River County Detention Center

The boys’ lawyer explained to them that they would be staying in the county jail for a week until their sentencing. Which meant they had a week to catch this spirit and bust out.

The prison bus pulled up to the county jail, unloading all the prisoners, the Winchesters included. “Alright, let’s go! Watch your step!” The prison guard ordered the men as they piled off in a single file line.

The prisoners jeered at the boys as they walked, still cuffed and detained. “You’re mine baby!” A prisoner threw a lustful kiss in Sam’s direction, making the Hunter grimace in disgust, wishing he had Jo by his side right at this moment. “Don’t worry, Sam. I promise I won’t trade you for smokes” Dean said to him from in front.

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean snickered.

They finally got suited up in the classic Orange jumpsuits, now hauling their stuff, which consisted of a pillow, an extra pair of clothes and toilet paper. Dean entered his cell he shared with a fellow prisoner, “I call top bunk” Dean smiled but the man scoffed, taking the top bunk. “Okay” He muttered, turning to see his brother Sam come face to face with a man who was actually larger than him.

Sam’s face dropped as the guards locked their door simultaneously, turning to face his brother who was behind held across the hall from him.

Now in a line outside to get strip searched, Sam stood behind his brother. “My roommate doesn’t say much, has yours?” Dean asked Sam in a low tone. “He just keeps staring at me, in a way that makes me…really uneasy” Sam admitted, making Dean smirk and chuckle. “It sounds like you’re making new friends,” Dean snickered.

“Dean. This is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we’ve ever done. And that’s in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy” Sam whispered in a harsh tone. “Calm down, it’s all part of the plan” Dean whispered back. “Oh, really? So Henricksen and fucking Alex showing up to as part of the plan?” Sam shot back.

Dean could feel the pressure build up in his chest at the mention of Alexander, “Yeah, well they move a little faster than I thought” Dean covered up his distaste with humor. “I mean, can you believe it? That jock is FBI now” Dean scoffed, shaking his head.

“A lot can change in six years, I guess” Sam retorted as the man behind him grabbed his arm. Sam instantly tensed, looking over his shoulder towards the man who was leering creepily at him. The man just smirked and winked at him, causing Sam to shiver and look away again quickly.

Dean snickered before changing the subject, “Look, all we gotta do is find this ghost, put the sucker down and then grab ourselves a couple of teardrop tattoos” Dean said as if it were simple, “That’s not funny” Sam grumbled, looking at the back of his brothers head disapprovingly. “Dean, what about this escape plan? It-?” Sam stammered.

“It's a 100-percent sure thing. I wouldn’t have gone in if it wasn’t.” Dean assured him. “I mean, come on man. This place has all the signs of a haunting” He whispered back. “And innocent people are dead. Four so far” He added. “Yeah, innocent” Sam scoffed ironically, rolling his eyes. Dean picked up on his tone, looking back at his brother.

“What? You from Texas all of the sudden? Just because these people are in jail, doesn’t mean they deserve to die. If we don’t stop this thing, people are gonna continue to die. We do the job wherever it takes us” Dean said firmly, turning to face the front again. “Look, Dean. Just be straight with me, alright? You’re doing this for Deacon?” Sam asked him for reassurance.

“Damn right” Dean assured him. “Well, you barely even know the guy,” Sam pointed out. “We know he was in a corps with dad. We know he saved Dads life. We know we owe him” Dean insisted. “Yeah, but don’t you think he’s asking a little much?” Sam stated. “It doesn’t matter” Dean shot back, keeping his eyes to the front where men were getting scanned with metal detectors.

“We may not be saints, but we’re loyal and we pay out debts. Now, that means something to me, it means something to y/n and it ought to you too” Dean said in a firm tone, an underlying principle in his tone. “Look, I’m not thrilled about this either” He admitted, his heart on his chest aching at the fact that he has to spend a week away from the woman he loves.

“But Deacon asked us to hunt this thing down, and that’s exactly what we’re gonna do”

____________________________________________

Sam Winchester’s face contorted in disgust as he sniffed the unappetizing looking noodles on his fork, now in the cafeteria with Dean scruffing down his own food next to him. “You know, this chicken isn’t half bad” Dean commented, clapping his tongue. “Great. Finish mine” Sam groaned, plopping his fork down on his tray before shoving it aside.

Dean raised his brows before shrugging and taking up the chicken from Sam’s tray with his fork, “Alright, so let’s go back over this, Dean. Spirit suspect number one is Mark Moody, right?” Sam began. “Yeah. Psycho-Killer extraordinaire. Satanism. Ritual murder. Died in jail” Dean listed off, stuffing a piece of chicken in his mouth. “Are you sure it’s him?” Sam asked.

“Pretty sure. Y/N looked into his file, seemed legit” Dean nodded, chewing on the chicken. “Dean, considering our circumstances, I’m gonna need a little bit better than pretty sure or seemed legit” Sam exaggerated. “Really pretty sure” Dean rolled his eyes. Sam sighed deeply as Dean continued.

“Moody died of a heart attack, which is exactly what all the victims in here are dying of. Okay? He died in the old cell block which they closed right after he croaked 30 years ago. They just opened that back up, that’s when the killings started” Dean explained, filling his mouth with noodles. “So, you think his spirit was released somehow?” Sam asked.

“Mm-hm.” Dean shrugged. “What if he was already cremated?” Sam suggested. “Y/N assumed there’s something in the old block that belongs to him that’s keeping him around. She’s got a point” Dean replied. “Now, whatever it is, we gotta find it, and you know the rest” He finished. “I’m done,” Dean muttered, placing his fork down before dusting his hands off.

Sam sighed, nodding as Dean got up before getting up to follow behind his brother. As Sam was walking, he accidentally bumped into another inmate, grunting harshly as the man stumbled back a bit. The older inmate turned to Sam with wide wild eyes, “Sorry, I-” Sam instantly went to apologize, his heart rate increasing.

“Watch where you’re going” The inmate growled. “Yeah, sure. I just-” Sam nodded frantically, but Dean instantly went into protective mode. “He said he was sorry” The elder Winchester stepped in, his tone standoffish as he got in the face of the other inmate. “Dean-” Sam tried to warn his older hotheaded brother.

“You talking to me?” The inmate scoffed, Dean didn’t answer, instead, he kept a brooding look on his face. “Are you talking to me?!” The inmate repeated. Dean rolled his eyes before muttering. “Great, another guy who’s seen Taxi Driver one too many times” he snorted, “Yeah, I’m talking to you” Dean spat.

“Trust me. Let it go” He said firmly, the prisoner clenched his jaw before walking away. “Dean, come on,” Sam pleaded. “See, that’s how you gotta talk to these guys. Instant respect” Dean grinned and winked at his brother. Sam’s eyes stayed trapped on the prisoner who made his way over to another yet large inmate.

The two whispered indistinctly to each other, “You were saying” Sam whispered to Dean with wide eyes as the two approached Dean. “Great” He groaned before the prisoner swung at him, knocking him straight in his jaw. “We can end this right now. No harm, no foul” Dean growled as he snatched the inmate by his hair. The inmate didn’t let up so Dean retaliated.

Sending him face first into the wall as he held his hands behind his back, the inmate then stepped on Dean’s foot harshly, making the Hunter hiss in pain. Dean retaliated with a kick straight to his groin, making him double over in agony. The prisoner groaned in pain as Dean sent a kick right to his face, causing him to fall on his back, clutching his face.

“That’s enough!!” A guard bellowed, breaking up the fight. He approached Dean with a stern expression, “On your feet, Lucas!” The guard barked at the prisoner who was previously attacking Dean. “Yes, sir, boss” Lucas grunted before pushing himself up from the ground, clutching his bleeding mouth.

The guard kept his gaze on Dean before retracting his baton at his waist, he approached Dean, pressing the baton under his chin. “What’s your name?” He gritted his teeth at Dean. “Winchester” Dean glared at the man, “Well, Winchester, not a good start” He snapped before retracting the baton from Dean’s chin.

“Solitary. You too, Lucas!” The guard ordered, pushed his way through the crowd as another guard grabbed Dean, “Yes sir” Lucas said obediently. “Are we having fun yet, huh?” Dean grinned at Sam as he was being escorted. Meanwhile another prisoner, Lucas’s friend, Tiny, pressed his thumb to his neck, dragging it across while looking at Sam.

The younger Winchester internally rolled his eyes and groaned at the threat.

____________________________________________

Now in solitary, Dean leaned his back against the wall, bored out of his mind, “I wish I had a baseball” He said out loud, “What? What’d you say?” Lucas said from the other cell. “I said I wish I had a baseball,” Dean repeated. “You know, like Steve McQueen,” he said through the single open slot. “Yeah? Well I wish I had a bat, so I could bash your fucking head in” Lucas growled.

“Okay. Well, so much for the bonding-in-solitary moment.” Dean muttered, pushing himself back against the wall before dusting his hands off. His mind wandered to y/n, within the past few days being here, Dean had grown a sense of loneliness. Sure, Sam was here but he missed his girl.

Thankfully, he got Deacon to sneak them a few phones, claiming that “Sam missed his girl”, referring to Jo. When in reality, Sam wasn’t the only one missing ‘his girl’. He had hidden it in his boxers so he quietly fished it out from his pants.

Dean switched his phone on and instantly looked in his contact list, clicking on her number and holding the phone to his ear. Soon enough, he heard Y/N’s voice after about three rings. “Hello?” Her sweet voice filtered through the phone. “Y/N,” Dean said instantly after hearing his love’s voice, a smile growing on his face at the sound of her.

“Dean?!” Y/N exclaimed in a low tone, she crushed her cigarette bud in the ashtray before gently peeling back the curtain to the motel room window she was hiding out in. “Hey, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled as he heard her reaction as she heard his voice. It was a voice he was craving to hear for days.

Call it toxic codependency, but after not hearing her voice for those few days, he thought he was gonna go insane.

He stayed quiet for a moment, taking in her voice before sighing, “God, it’s good to hear your voice” He admitted, resting the back of his head against the wall, “Are you okay, sweetie? How are you holding up?” Y/N asked him gently, she could hear the tension in his voice. This skyrocketed her concern.

“I’m holding up fine. This place is shitty” Dean assured her while clenching his jaw, “But don’t worry about me” He added instantly, “I’m more worried about you” He admitted while closing his eyes, imagining the look on her face right now.

“Charming, you’re the one in prison and you’re worried about me?” Y/N chuckled dryly, shaking her head. “I hate this plan” She muttered, running her hands over her face as she sank into her bed. The corner of his mouth curled up a bit, “Of course, I am, princess” He chuckled softly, imagining the pout on her face.

He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her right now and assure her he was okay. He shifted in his spot, now laying on his back as he spoke to her. “It’s a risk, yeah, but it’s what we do, baby” He replied gently, he understood her worry.

Y/N’s heart fluttered when Dean called her ‘baby’. But she quickly swallowed it back down, reminding herself that it’s just how he talks and it doesn’t mean anything, “How’s Sammy holding up?” She asked him, concerned wavering in her tone.

“He’s alright. A little freaked out, though” Dean admitted, closing his eyes as he exhaled deeply. As per usual, his main concern was his little brother’s well-being. He always was a protective older brother. He clenched his jaw remembering his previous interaction with the other inmates.

“Just a minor scuffle so far,” He added quietly. “Of course you’re getting into fights” Y/N scoffed disapprovingly, shaking her head as she placed her hand on her forehead. “Let me guess. Someone tried to steal Sam’s lunch money?” She mused with a roll of her eyes.

Dean cracked a smirk as he stayed quiet for a moment, a little surprised and proud she immediately guessed right. “Ahh, you know me too well” He chuckled as he rolled his eyes, a smile on his face. “Can’t let some assholes push Sammy around” He replied, closing his eyes.

After a few seconds of silence, he then added, “I miss you…” He confessed, opening his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling. He was never one to express his emotions, especially not on the phone, but he couldn’t help it anymore. He missed her so damn much.

Y/N felt her heart practically shift in her chest, she hated the thought of those fellas behind bars, she knew they could handle themselves. But she had been worried sick, “I miss you too” She whispered back, biting her lip slightly as she took a deep breath.

Dean’s heart ached at hearing her words, his features softened as he pressed the phone against his ear, hearing her voice. “Y/N/N, it’s okay. We’re gonna be okay” He said gently, attempting to soothe her anxieties. He didn’t like being a source of worry, and he knew she wouldn’t stop worrying about them as long as they’re in here.

“You better be. Because I’ll kick your ass” She mockingly threatened with a weak chuckle, “If you need help with anything on the case, you call me. Don’t hesitate, I’ll always be here for you” Y/N said firmly.

A soft smile tugged at his lips, he would expect nothing less from her. She was protective when it came to the people she cared about, especially him and Sam. “Don’t worry, we’ll call ya if there’s any development” Dean replied with a soft chuckle.

Inside his cell, Sam leaned the back of his head against the wall, his eyes closed. As he sat there in silence, the only sound in the room was the sound of the guards patrolling outside the door. He held the phone in his hand, thumb hesitantly hovering over Jo’s contact on the screen.

After a few seconds, Sam caved, pressing on her name. He held the phone to his ear just as it began to ring, mentally preparing himself to hear her voice, it was almost like it would be too much to hear her yet it wouldn’t be enough at the same time. Sam waited for her to answer, his breathing slowed and his heartbeat quickened.

Finally, after what felt like both a long and short time, Sam heard the familiar and oh so sweet sound of Jo’s voice come through the receiver. “Sammy?!” She exclaimed in a low tone, sounding a little surprised. “Hey angel” Sam responded with a low chuckle, looking up on the bunk to make sure his cellmate was asleep.

“How are you? Are you okay?” Jo instantly asked, concern clear in her voice. Despite the low tone and the low volume, Sam could tell she was worried. He smiled at the fact, his heart fluttering at being greeted with her sweet voice.

“I’m fine,” Sam assured her, “Deans in solitary confinement. Got into a fight” He sighed, resting his head against the bricked wall. Jo rolled her eyes at the news that Dean was sent to solitary for getting into a fight, “Of course he is. Idiot” She muttered into the phone, a part of her was annoyed, but a part of her was secretly amused.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head gently. “He’s Dean” He laughed softly, he could never blame his brother for being the way he is, he would never change him. As stubborn, and infuriating, and idiotic as he could be, Sam loves his brother.

“I miss you” Sam confessed, his heart heavy at not seeing Jo for weeks on end. He was feeling it worse now being locked up. Jo’s heart fluttered at hearing his words. She missed him just as much. “I miss you too. I hate not seeing you” She whispered into the phone, she wanted to see him, hell, she wanted to at least give him a hug to reassure him.

“We’ll be outta here soon enough” Sam said gently, mentally reassuring himself at the same time. It’s so hard sometimes, being apart from the people you love. As they were both caught up in their conversation, Sam’s cellmate let out a loud snore, jolting Sam’s attention for a moment.

Well into their conversation, Jo let out a soft breath, “Hey, Sammy? Just…” She trailed off, she didn’t know what to say, “Just be careful, okay? Please” She said quietly, she would be devastated if something happened to either Sam or Dean while in prison.

Sam’s heart ached at hearing her words, he felt so guilty at how worried she sounded. “I will, I promise” Sam assured her, his features softened at hearing the quiet worry in her voice. No matter what happens, he promised himself he’d always come back to her.

Now back to Dean, he laid down on the dusty uncomfortable ground as he continued to talk to his love, “Everything’s fine. I’m fine, Sam’s fine” He assured her for the millionth time. Just the sound of her voice alone was enough to make him feel better, he needed to hear her voice to keep himself sane in this place.

“Yeah, sure you are” Y/N responded with a scoff, not believing a word coming out of his mouth. She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. Despite her worries, she felt peace hearing his voice, even in the middle of this shitty situation, just hearing his voice was everything.

Dean chuckled deeply, swallowing harshly as the air in the cell grew colder and the lights began flickering. “Oh fuck” He muttered upon seeing his own breath. Y/N’s brows furrowed when she heard his muttered curse. “Dean? What’s going on?” She asked in a serious tone, sitting up in her bed at hearing the change in his tone.

Dean slowly pushed himself up in a sitting position, his eyes shifting around the now chilly and dim cell. “It’s nothing sweetheart-” Just as he was about to dismiss her worries, a rattling sound cut him off, his gaze darted to the cell door. “Fuck, I’m gonna need to call you back” Dean said urgently.

Before Y/N had time to say anything, Dean quickly ended the call. The cold air seemed to grow even cooler as the rattling became louder and more urgent. Something was coming.

“Lucas, listen to me. Stay very still” Dean said through the louvers on the door to his next door cellmate. Lucas looked through the louvers to see nothing, but he felt the air growing colder. His heart nearly stopped when a pair of eyes appeared through the louvers, staring back at him.

Lucas’ body became rigid, beads of sweat already starting to appear on his temple as the chill spread through the room, his breathing hitched, “What the hell is that” He choked out. His eyes were wide and glossy as he stared into the terrifying pair of eyes.

Dean could hear Lucas screaming from his own cell, his heart pounding out of his chest, his eyes wide as the inmate shouted, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” Through his ears.

____________________________________________

Back in the station, Victor Henricksen and Alexander Thompson were working the case of the Winchesters and L/N’s together. “Hey Vic?” Alexander drew his superior’s attention to him. Victor snapped his attention to Alex with a questioning look, he arched a brow at him. “Yeah?” He asked him with a raised brow.

“I’ve been going through the Winchester and L/N charges, and I gotta say…there are some weird inconsistencies” Alexander sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair as he took a seat across from Victor.

Victor rolled his eyes as he listened to Alex. He leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Welcome to my world” Victor scoffed. “I talked to a cop in Baltimore who swears up and down that Sam, Dean and Y/N saved her and helped her catch a killer. And there’s a witness to the bank robbery in Milwaukee, she swears they saved her life” Alexander listed off.

Victor pursed his lips as he listened to him. “Saved her from what?” He let out an annoyed sigh. “She- she was a little unclear” Alexander sighed, leaned back into his chair. “That’s because she’s nuts,” Victor insisted but Alex wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt.

“Look, I was in Milwaukee, I spoke to her, I spoke to all the witnesses.” Victor began. “And?” Alex questioned. “And, all I know is that where they go, people die. It’s that simple” Victor said firmly. Alexander huffed out a sigh. “That simple?” He repeated, his voice filled with skepticism. “No, it can’t be that simple” He argued.

“It’s never that simple. They’re good people” He insisted. “At least- y/n was..” Alex’s voice died in his throat. Victor scoffed at the roomie agent’s stubbornness, he rolled his eyes before sighing softly. After staring at him for a beat, he leaned closer to the table towards Alex. “Look kid, I get it, you had a past with the girl, she’s the one that got away” Victor said the last part a bit sarcastically.

Alex crossed his arms over his chest, furrowing his brows. “But you’ve been here, what? A year? I’ve been on this racket for years, they’re not the people you knew.” Victor said firmly, pressing his hand into the table. Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the mention of Y/N, he hated how right Victor was about her.

It was no secret he had feelings for her still. But he chose to remain stubborn and ignore the feeling he felt in his chest when he thought about her.

After a few moments, he scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever” He muttered. “You let your feelings for her cloud your judgment and it’s going to kick you in the ass one day” Victor warned him, looking stern and serious, trying to knock some sense into his agent.

“They just don’t seem cut-and-dry guilty to me, Vic” Alex said, running his hand through his hair. “I think, there’s more to this”. Victor’s face hardened a bit as he listened to him. He sighed deeply and let go of the table, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “And I think you’re letting your past with Y/N affect the way you’re viewing this” He replied back to him.

Alex remained quiet, a mixture of anger, denial, and frustration building up in his chest. But he knew there was no point in arguing with his superior, once he made up his mind about someone or something, there was no stopping him.

Victor gave him a weary stare, he could tell the agent was pissed off but didn’t care much for it. He sighed and dropped the subject before looking down at his watch and checking the time.

After a few more minutes of silence and Alex not responding back, Victor let out a sigh. “You’ve been working all day, kid. Why don’t you go get some rest and come back tomorrow” He said with a softer tone this time, trying to ease the tension that was in the room.

Alex looked up at him in surprise, his angry expression fell for a moment. He took a breath and let it out shakily, he was tired, exhausted really but he didn’t want to admit it. He was the new guy, and he wanted to prove that he could handle this job. But he had to listen to his superior.

Alex stood up from his chair and nodded, “Yes sir” He responded in a mumbled tone before turning around to head out of the office.

____________________________________________

It was the next day, Sam was mopping up the bathroom with another fellow inmate, Randall. “How you doing?” Sam attempted to make casual conversation. “I’m 54 years old, mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows. How do you think I’m doing?” Randall responded sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Sam in return.

“Alright” Sam muttered, dipping his mop in the bucket. “Bad icebreaker” He sighed as he took the mop out and wiped the floor. “I’m Sam” He introduced himself. “Randall” Randall responded. “Nice to meet y-” Sam said politely before the familiar name dawned on him. “Randall? Hey, weren’t you there the night that guard died?” Sam asked, referring to the last death of a prison guard.

“Yeah” Randall confirmed, “Well, what happened?” Sam asked curiously. “They say the stress of the job got to him” Randall shrugged. “Yeah? What do you say?” Sam smirked, Randall’s head snapped over to the hunter as he cocked his brow. “Why are you inside, kid?” Randall questioned, continuing to mop.

Sam sighed deeply as he returned to mopping, “Cause I got an idiot for a brother” Sam muttered, “That’ll do it” Randall mused, “Yeah” Sam sighed. “Well, this place ain’t so bad. Compared to the old cellblock, this is the fucking Hilton” Randall assured him. Sam’s ears perked up at this. “You spent time in the old block?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, I was a regular customer” Randall responded casually, “Didn’t they have Mark Moody over there for a while?” Sam asked, “He was there,” Randall confirmed, turning to face Sam. “You know, I was there too, the night that lunatic bought it” Randall gossiped. “Yeah? It was a heart attack, right?” Sam carried on the conversation.

“Sure, his heart stopped right after the guards stopped using his head for batting practice” Randall snorted, this made Sam’s jaw drop. “Next morning, I was in his cell mopping up the blood. What a mess” Randall sighed. “Wait- so he was- he was beaten and nobody reported it?” Sam asked in shock.

“You kept your mouth shut unless you wanted to die from the same heart attack, you know?” Randall put it simply. Sam thought for a second before asking. “Randall…exactly how much blood was there?”

____________________________________________

Sam immediately went out into the prison yard after his shift to see Dean playing poker with a fellow inmate for cigarettes. “Call.” Dean said, placing down a card. “Three Aces” The inmate smirked, holding up his cards. Dean feigned a sigh, “That’s a bad beat.” The inmate went to pick up the cigarettes, “That is a bad beat, but see, I’m full. Threes over aces” Dean smirked widely as the inmate huffed in frustration and smacked the table.

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean laughed, “I’m sorry. Hey, it’s a cruel game, my friend” Dean laughed, shrugging as the inmate tossed his cards on the table and left. “Sorry guys” Dean smiled tightly as he gathered the cigarettes laying on the table up and placed them into a little baggy. Sam took the inmate’s seat, sitting across from his brother.

“It’s like picking low hanging fruit” Dean cackled, as he bagged the cigarettes up. “You rarely smoke, Dean” Sam scoffed, pointing out the obvious, “You kidding? This is the currency of the realm” Dean retorted, earning a deadpan look from Sam that said, ‘Yeah, right’. Dean rolled his eyes, “Fine, it’s a little gift for Y/N. Sue me for being an awesome friend” Dean shot back.

Sam rolled his eyes again, Dean was more excited about having cigarettes to give Y/N than he usually was about anything. The younger Winchester cleared his throat, wanting to get Dean’s focus back on to something else. “Dean…” Sam began.

“Yes, Sam?” Dean responded, gathering the cigarettes and bagging them up. “I’ve been doing some talking” Sam began, “I’ve been talking too” Dean retorted, “Yeah?” Sam asked, a little skeptical. “What have you been talking about?” He inquired. “I think I’ve got a good lead on Moody,” Sam said.

“Yeah, me too. His spirit paid a little visit last night” Dean replied, stuffing the bag into his jacket. “What?” Sam gasped, “Clock-stop, flickering lights, cold spot. I mean, he did everything but yell ‘Boo’” Dean scoffed, “Well, what happened?” Sam asked concerned. “He walked right by me,” Dean sighed, looking down at his hands.

“Lucas wasn’t so lucky. I mean, the way he was screaming…The guy was a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to go like that” Dean shook his head, “What'd you find out about Moody?” He asked Sam. “Yeah, so I think I know where we might find his remains. Blood in his old cell” Sam explained. Dean furrowed his brows at this.

“Blood? I thought it was a heart attack” Dean said, “it was, after the guards worked him over” Sam scoffed, “I mean, apparently, there was so much blood in there, they had trouble mopping it out” He further explained, Dean nodded in return, reaching into his jacket to take out a cigarette from the baggy, “How are we gonna get in?” He asked Sam as he placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

“I got a plan” Sam shrugged, earning a smirk from Dean. “That’s the Sammy I know. I mean, come on. You’re like Clint Eastwood from Escape from Alcatraz” Dean chuckled as he let the steam from the cigarette out through his nose. “Look, the problem is, Even if we do find something, how are we gonna salt and burn it? We don’t have any accelerant” Sam signed heavily.

“Good thing I’m like James Garner from The Great Escape” Dean winked at him before taking out the cigarette baggy, ready to bet more and win more to take back home, “Hey fellas?! Who’s ready to deal?” Dean shouted, holding up his lit cigarette and the baggy of cigarettes. Sam rolled his eyes in return as Dean took another drag from his cigarette and more inmates piled around him.

____________________________________________

Y/N was pacing around the motel room, her anxiety was over the top today since that phone call with Dean and the fact that her best friend was running late wasn’t helping. She looked at her watch and groaned loudly, “Where is she?” She muttered under her breath and continued pacing around the room.

Y/N has been on edge since the boys purposefully got themselves caught, she hated the idea and was very vocal about it but she understood where Dean was coming from when he said that they repaid their debts. That didn’t stop her from worrying though.

Because she herself was a fugitive, Y/N was under motel arrest and she had no way to comfort herself other than her pack of Dunhill and wearing one of Dean’s old shirts. It still smelt like his musk and gave her the comfort she needed right now to stop herself from running into a wall repeatedly.

Did she feel stupid because her friend's shirt was bringing her comfort? Yes, she felt insane and as though she was desperate. Was she gonna admit that to him? Fuck no. But was she going to continue wearing it and most likely sleep in it tonight? You bet your last dollar she was.

After waiting impatiently, there was a knock on the door. Y/N’s head snapped up and she quickly went to the door, opening it to reveal her best friend, Jo Harvelle. “Oh thank God ” Y/N sighed, pulling Jo into a tight hug.

“You’re late,” Y/N scolded once she pulled away from the hug, closing the door behind her. Jo raised her hands up in defense, “I know I know. I’m sorry, I had some stuff to take care of” She replied apologetically. Y/N’s harsh facade quickly melted to concern, “Everything okay?” She asked worriedly.

Jo sighed as she sat down on the edge of one of the beds, “Yeah, no, it’s no biggie” She replied, watching Y/N take a seat on the other bed. Y/N didn’t believe that for a second, she knew her best friend too well to believe her. She raised her eyebrows at Jo, “Don’t lie to me, Joanna” She pointed a finger at her.

Jo chuckled a little at the use of her full name, she rolled her eyes and sighed, “Alright, I had a bit of a run in with my mother” She admitted. Y/N sighed, offering her friend a small smile. “She still mad about you hunting?” She said softly as Jo nodded, peeling off her jacket, a small frown on her face.

“She’ll come around, Jo. She loves you” Y/N assured her as she took out two beers from the mini fridge, handing Jo one. Jo took the beer from Y/N’s hand and took off the cap, “Yeah, but I wish she did a better job at showing it” She replied with a hint of frustration, taking a swig of the beer. Y/N sat down next to her on the bed and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“She’s just worried about you,” She said softly. “Besides the point” Jo tried to change the topic, taking a seat next to Y/N. “How are our boys?” Jo asked, sipping her beer. Y/N let out a sigh, “Sam is doing alright. Dean on the other hand…” She trailed off, looking down into her beer. “He hung up on me last night and I’m worried.” She added as she brought the beer to her lips, taking a long sip.

“Now I know they can handle themselves in there but fuck, I’m worried” Y/N murmured. “Did you talk to Sam?” Y/N asked Jo. The younger hunter nodded, “Yeah but you know how vague they can be” Jo shrugged, “All he told me was that they were both fine and not to worry” She added, Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, that’s reassuring” She muttered sarcastically.

They sat in a moment of silence, both sipping on their beers. Y/N’s mind was going at a hundred miles an hour as a hundred different thoughts, worries and scenarios ran through her head. Jo studied Y/N for a few moments before noticing she was beginning to bite her nails which was a sign of anxiety. Jo gently smacked Y/N’s hand, “Stop it, you’re nervous” Jo scolded.

Y/N flinched at the smack and looked over at Jo, “Sorry” She mumbled, pulling her hand down and putting it in her lap, “I’m just worried” She admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong in there” She added, fiddling with one of the rings on her fingers.

“Hey, hey, stop it” Jo interrupted, “They’ll be okay. You know that, our boys can handle themselves” Jo said in an attempt to reassure her, but she didn’t sound too confident and it sounded more so she was trying to convince herself.

Y/N exhaled and nodded, “Yeah, I know they can but there’s something about this case that’s making me worry more” She confessed, fiddling with the ring in her fingers. “This is prison we’re talking about, there’s a lot more stuff that can go wrong” The young psychic said, her voice laced with concern.

Jo sighed softly, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on Y/N’s leg “They’re gonna be fine. You know them, they’ll come back in one piece” She assured her, squeezing her leg in a gentle way. Y/N nodded, attempting to believe her words, “Yeah, okay. You’re probably right” She mumbled.

Jo gave Y/N a small smile, “I know I’m right” She said, gently poking Y/N’s leg, trying to make her laugh. Y/N chuckled, gently swatting her hand away. Jo chuckled lightly in response, “There’s that laugh” She smirked. Y/N shook her head before sighing deeply.

“Well, I’m under motel-arrest until they call me when it’s time to come pick ‘em up when the case is over. You sticking around till then?” Y/N asked hopefully, “You could surprise Sam” She added in a teasing tone, nudging Jo with her foot.

Jo blushed slightly, a grin broke out on her face as she playfully shoved Y/N’s foot away. “Maybe I will” She giggled, trying to hide her smile. Y/N grinned widely at her friend, it was so easy to tease Jo about her crush.

“Ooh! We could order in, watch crappy movies and paint each other’s nails” Jo said, getting excited, she loved girl time, especially with her best friend after being on the road for so long. “You’re talking like we’re a couple of thirteen-year olds having a sleepover” Y/N teased, laughing. “I’m totally down for a movie night, though” Y/N added.

“We’re in our twenties and we’re fucking hunters, we need to have girl nights once in a while. We deserve it” Jo said as she placed her beer bottle on the table beside the bed. “Now, we’re going to order some food, and you are going to chill, because worrying is not going to do anything and those two dumbasses will be fine” She said, fixing Y/N with a look.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as she picked up her phone, “Whatever, but I’m picking the movie, you can pick the food” She shot back, handing Jo the phone. Jo chuckled and took the phone from Y/N, “Only because I don’t wanna listen to you complain” She said as she began ordering the food. Y/N rolled her eyes again, “You suck” She muttered, trying to hold back a smile.

After Jo ordered the food, Y/N sat with her, sipping on her beer, chatting and waiting for the food. Y/N smiled to herself as a wave of unfamiliar happiness took her over. Sure she spent the majority of her time with the boys and she loved the brothers like her own family.

But there was something special about having a girls night, even if it was just in a motel room while waiting for a call from Sam or Dean to haul their asses out of prison and the “girls night” was just movies, room service and girl talk. It made her think of the home she never really had, of how Y/N would wish she had a mother to have girls nights with.

Sure, growing up she would twist Sam or Dean’s arm (mainly Dean) into watching chick flicks with her, but she never had that bond with another girl, as much as she wanted to. It sucked moving from town to town and never being able to grow a strong friendship with someone she could call a ‘sister’. Not that she wasn’t grateful for her brother, she’d die for Sammy in a heartbeat.

Her friendship with Jo had a rough start, but she’ll forever be grateful for Jo’s forgiving nature and allowing her to experience the wonders of sisterhood. But what she didn’t know is, Jo felt the exact same way about her. She was her sister, they were sisters and nothing was going to change that.

____________________________________________

Sam and Dean were currently in the lunch line, “You sure about this?” Dean whispered to his brother as they scooted along the line, “Pretty sure” Sam whispered back, Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, considering the circumstances, I’d like a little better than pretty sure” Dean shot back, using Sam’s words from the day before against him.

Sam scoffed in return, “Okay, really pretty sure” Sam sassed before moving out of the line. Dean shook his head before turning to the cook. “I’d like mine al dente” He mused as the cook just slapped down a pile of noodles on his tray harshly along with some beans. “Perfect” Dean grimaced, smiling tightly as he made his way over to a table.

Sitting by the table was Tiny, Lucas’ friend. He slapped his tray on the table as the heavy tatted and rather large inmate glared at him. “Save room for dessert, Tiny” Dean laughed as he sat across from Tiny. “Hey, I wanted to ask you because I couldn’t help but notice you are two tons of fun” Dean said sarcastically, making Tiny’s eyes darken in his direction.

Dean then leaned in, “Just curious, is that a thyroid problem or is that just some deep-seated self-esteem issues?” Dean smirked, trying to get a rise out of the inmate. Sam gulped from across the room, trying to be subtle about his action. “Because, you know, they’re, uh, just doughnuts. They’re not love” Dean chuckled as Tiny narrowed his eyes at him.

Tiny nodded with a faux smile as Dean continued to laugh, Sam kept an eye on the two, waiting for someone to hit the other. Tiny did exactly as anticipated and balled his fist up, right hooking the elder Winchester in a flash. Dean was tumbling to the ground, grunting as he pushed himself back up to see Tiny standing over him.

He wore a smug grin before punching Tiny across his jaw. The inmate barely reacted, earning a confused and slightly fearful look from Dean. So he left hooked him quickly before punching him in the gut but Tiny was still standing. He snatched Dean by his collar before head butting him, making Dean grow dizzy as a guard attempted to subdue Tiny.

But Tiny quickly grappled the guard and sent him reeling in a table back first. The fight finally caught the attention of a few other guards, “Guys, give me a hand!” One of the guards yelled as they charged at Tiny and Dean, both were still throwing punches at each other.

Meanwhile, Sam took the opportunity of the distracted guards to sneak into the kitchen. The younger Winchester quickly pocketed a jar of salt before making his way to one of the vents, pulling out the covering before crawling into the open space.

Dean was still outside, the guard trying to part him and Tiny. With a couple more heavy grunts, they finally separated the two riled up inmates, three guards were holding back Tiny as a one yanked Dean up from the floor. One of the familiar guards gripped Dean by his face, forcing him to look at him.

“If we waited longer, you’d be dead” The guard said firmly before pushing his face away. “Well, you waited long enough,” Dean said, feeling a bit woozy from the fight. The guard gritted his teeth before kneeing Dean in his gut. The Hunter doubled over in pain, gripping his midsection. “Do yourself a favor. Don’t talk” The guard growled, gripping Dean by his hair.

Dean Winchester winced, blood dripping from an open wound on his cheek, his eye was already looking bruised from the fight the day before and it was just getting worse from the blows he received from Tiny. “Take the both up to the infirmary” The guard ordered his subordinate. He nodded in agreement before escorting a groaning Dean out of the cafeteria.

Meanwhile, Sam finally made his way into the old cell block after crawling his way from the vent in the kitchen. He scanned the area, investing and looking for the old cell of Moody.

Eventually he stumbled on an old cot, grimacing as he turned it to reveal old dried blood. Sam groaned in disgust as he took out the salt from his pocket and Dean’s lighter he used to light his cigarette. He salted the blooded cot before breaking one of the lighters and emptying the lighter fluid onto the cot.

He then struck a match before tossing it onto the cot, burning it fully, hoping that the spirit was now put to rest.

During this time, Dean was in the infirmary. His head pounding, his jaw aching and the only thing that was keeping him sane was the thought that his brother was nearby and the woman he loved was waiting for him on the outside. All he wanted right now was a warm hug and to inhale that coconut shampoo and tobacco he’d never grow tired of smelling on her.

“Hey, Tiny?” Dean called out to Tiny, who was in the cell next to him on his own infirmary bed. “Yeah?” Tiny responded. “Hey, sorry about the things I was saying earlier” Dean apologized sincerely, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned on the cold wall. “I can’t really tell you why, but I had to get you angry,” Dean said vaguely as he sighed.

“So, uh….anyways, sorry” Dean added, looking as his hands. He couldn’t see it, but Tiny smiled a bit at his apology, the large and heavily tatted inmate nodded, “It’s okay. Truth is, I have low self-esteem issues” Ting admitted, tears welling up in his eyes. Dean’s brows cocked up in surprise as Tiny opened up.

“My old man treated me, my brother and my little sister like crap. Right up until the day he died” Tiny told him, standing up to lean against the bars. “How'd he die?” Dean asked curiously, making casual conversation with the inmate. “My brother shot him. And my sister buried the body” Tiny admitted.

Dean's eyes widened at how casually Tiny said it, “Okay…” Dean muttered, pursing his lips when his eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure. What looked like the figure of a very nasty looking woman was staring back at him. The room grew colder and the clock at the corner of the room stopped. “Oh fuck” Dean cursed, pushing himself up from his cot.

“What is it?” Tiny asked upon hearing Dean curse. As Dean stared at the ghost, he couldn’t help but think if Y/N was here, she’d say she was getting ‘that feeling’ and Dean would mock her about her ‘ESP Thing’. He tilted his head as the dirty pale woman dressed like an infirmary nurse made her way towards him.

Instantly, Dean tried to push at the bars but it was no use, the guards had locked him in along with Tiny. “What’s going on?”’ Tiny asked again as Dean rattled at the door and the ghost inched towards them. Dean quickly reached into his tray of food, taking up the salt but the ghost quickly sent him flying into the wall, back first.

Dean grunted in pain as he tumbled into the ground, “Oh, fuck!!” Dean shouted, “What is it?!” Tiny yelled back in concern, hearing the commotion but he couldn’t see from the angle his cell was in. Dean opened his eyes to see the ghost standing above him, she instantly placed his hand over his heart, causing him to groan, feeling as if his heart was slowing down.

The ghost growled at him, the hunter could feel his heart begin to give out but thought quickly and flicked the cap off of the salt in his hand, tossing it on the ghost. Making her disapparate. Dean gasped as the tension of the ghost attempting to kill him left his body, the pain easing. But his eyes widened when he heard Tiny scream in terror, “NOOO!!” The inmate cried out.

“Tiny!!!” Dean shouted, pushing himself up from the ground. “Tiny!!!!” Dean tried to warn him, but Tiny was fading, groaning and screaming in pain. “Guard!!! Guard!!!” Dean rattled at the bars, shouting for the guard, but it was no use.

The sounds of the inmate’s tortured scream echoed through the block, sending a cold shiver down Dean’s spine as he gripped the bars tighter, his knuckles turning white.

However, like in the blink of an eye, silence fell over the two blocks. The sound of Tiny screaming had ceased. The hunter panted heavily, his heart beating hard and fast in his chest. The air was eerily thick as the silence continued.

____________________________________________

The next morning, Dean was giving Sam the rundown of the events in the infirmary. “Wait, so you’re telling me it wasn’t Moody?” Sam asked surprised as they strolled through the prison yard. “Not unless he liked going around dressed like a nurse” Dean shot back, burying his hands in his jacket. “Poor Tiny, man. Poor…giant Tiny” Dean sighed.

“Wait so, this is- this is like the ghost of some nurse who worked here or something?” Sam asked, “I don’t know man, I guess” Dean groaned, “You know what, Dean. At this point, ‘I don’t know, I guess’ isn’t really working for me” Sam sassed, “See, uh…I thought we were done” The younger Winchester retorted, “I called Deacon, it’s happening. We’re getting out tonight” Sam informed him.

“I guess we gotta do some quick research, then” Dean said as if it were simple. Sam looked at his brother as if he were crazy. “How? I mean, maybe you haven’t noticed, we’re in jail!” Sam exclaimed in a whisper tone, gesturing to their surroundings.

“So you wanna know about some nurse? Why do you wanna know” Randall asked the boys as they interrogated him in the prison yard. “We got our reasons” Dean said bluntly, earning a side eye from Sam. “But, uh…we’ll make it worth your while” Dean smirked, holding up one of the packs of cigarettes he won.

Randall smirked in response, accepting the cigarettes from Dean. “So this nurse, she would have had white hair, one screwed-up eye. Is that ringing a bell?” Dean asked, pointing to his eye. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember her” Randall nodded. “You remember her name?” Dean asked, “No, that’s still kinda fuzzy,” Randall smirked.

Dean rolled his eyes as Sam chuckled, “Give it to him” Sam told Dean, indicating to the cigarettes. Dean clenched his jaw, “It’s for Y/N” He whined, “Dean, you’ve got tons remaining. Just give it to him” Sam insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, come on, man!” Dean groaned, handing over the cigarettes to Randall begrudgingly, who took it without hesitation. “Glockner. Nurse Glockner” He told them, stuffing the cigarettes into his pocket. “Nasty old bitch worked here in the 70s” Randall scoffed with distaste.

“You knew her?” Sam asked, “I met her once. I had to get a tetanus shot” Randall told them. “She damn near jammed the needle through the other side of my arm. At least I got outta there alive.” He explained. “What do you mean?” Sam asked curiously.

“Well, there were these stories, you know? I don’t know if they were true. Cons love to talk, but we’re all liars” Randall shrugged. “What kind of stories?” Dean asked. “Well, guys would go up to the infirmary with a cold, next thing you know, they’re in a body bag. A whole rash of heart attacks. Young guys, old guys” Randall further explained.

“Heart attacks?” Sam raised his brow at this. Randall nodded, “Yeah. The story was Glockner had it out for cons and she did the Charles Bronson thing with a hypodermic.” Sam and Dean shared a look as he spoke. “But anyway, that was a rumor. Nobody proved anything” He added. “Whatever happened to Glockner?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. I finished my bit and left. Next time I landed back in here, she was gone” Randall shrugged.

It was now lunchtime and the Winchesters were discussing the case in the cafeteria, “Okay, let’s say those stories on Glockner were true.” Sam began. “It’s a thought. In life, she’s a vigilante. In death, same thing” Dean whispered. “Right, but I mean, how’s she tied in with the old cellblock?” Sam questioned. “And if she’s going after cons, why kill that one guard?” He added.

“Well, I did hear in the yard that that guard wasn’t exactly squeaky clean. So, maybe she’s going after anybody that breaks the law, like me” Dean stated, Sam’s brows furrowed as he narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You heard in the yard?” Sam gave Dean his classic bitchface. “Yeah” Dean shrugged. His normalcy made Sam snort.

“Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?” Sam pointed out, “No, not really” Dean shrugged again. Sam rolled his eyes again in return, “Alright, well, listen. Either way, we need more info on Glockner. If she’s buried. If so, where. And we got…five hours to get it” Sam stated. It was Dean’s turn to give Sam a bitch face.

“No, no. Don’t you dare give me that ‘we-gotta-see-this-thing-through’ look.” Sam warned Dean, pressing his index finger to the table. “We are leaving tonight, no matter what” He said firmly. “I just don’t wanna let Deacon down. We owe him” Dean whispered back. “Yeah. But we don’t owe him our lives, Dean!” Sam lowly exclaimed.

Dean clenched his jaw, thinking deeply. He thought for a few seconds before making up his mind. He then got up from his seat without a word, “Where are you going?” Sam scoffed, “I'm gonna go have a chat with our favorite psychic” Dean smirked.

____________________________________________

Dean was currently sitting in the non-contact visiting area, patiently waiting for Y/N to arrive. Sure he had his phone that he could use to call her, but as selfish as it sounds, he needed to see her. Of course, y/n was skeptical about coming. It was a risk for her to show herself, but being a hunter means you gotta learn to disguise yourself.

She wouldn’t admit it, but she needed to see Dean just as much as he needed to see her. So, she made Jo wait in the Impala while she met with Dean.

It wasn’t too long when the glass doors opened and Y/N walked through, being led inside by a guard. She was wearing a long beige trench coat to cover her entire body, along with a dusty long wig with bangs that looked like she bought it from Party City to hide her natural (h/l) (h/c) hair.

Dean’s heartbeat quickened as he eyed her, it was as if she were an ice cold drink on a burning hot day. His eyes raked her up and down, he hadn’t forgotten just how damn good she looked.

Y/N sat in the seat across from him through the glass and picked up the phone, “Hey charming” She greeted with a smile that had clear relief behind it, putting the phone up to her ear. “Hey, princess” Dean replied, his heart fluttering in his chest as he took in the view before him.

Seeing Y/N’s face had lifted his mood instantly, he missed her more than he’d like to admit. “You have no idea how much I missed you” He added. She chuckled at his words but the sound was only heard through the phone, “Right back at you” She responded. Her eyes roamed his face, his rugged look as well as the look of his orange jumpsuit.

Her eyes landed instantly on the dark red bruise on Dean’s eye, her heart dropping. “They treating you okay in there?” Y/N asked, noticing the bruise. Her question made him smirk, “Nothing I can’t handle, sweetheart” He assured her. Y/N’s brows furrowed in response, not convinced, “Dean, this isn’t funny. Be serious” She said.

“I am being serious” He countered, his smile never leaving his face, even with the bruise. She stared at him with a firm expression, “How did you get that black eye?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. Dean’s smile began to falter, “Um, uh-“ he stuttered, hesitating a moment.

She narrowed her eyes and cocked her eyebrow at him again, “Don’t lie to me, Dean” She warned. Dean knew there was no use in trying to get out of this one, “Okay, I um…I got into a little scuffle” He admitted sheepishly. “Another one?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” She lowly exclaimed through the phone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey now. Calm down, I’m fine” He told her, holding one of his hands. Y/N pursed her lips out, “You promise you’re fine?” She questioned. “I promise” He nodded a little, seeing the pout on her face. Her worry was always endearing to him.

However, Y/N wasn’t convinced. Dean noticed it so he instantly held up his pinky, waving it from the other side of the glass. “I pinky promise” He said with a charming smirk. Her lips finally curled up into a smile at the sight of his pinky. She rolled her eyes fondly at him as she let out a soft sigh, “You can’t break a pinky promise” She teased, holding up her own pinky in return.

“Okay, now onto what I called you here for” Dean’s tone switched to a serious one as they placed their pinkies back down. Y/N’s face dropped to a more serious face as he did, “Yeah” She nodded, ready to listen. “We need you to dig up some intel on a Nurse Glockner. She worked here in the 70’s.” Dean informed her, keeping his voice quiet incase if anyone was listening to their conversation.

“Wait, wait. Glockner? I thought Moody was haunting the prison?” Y/N responded, keeping her voice low. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too but, turns out, he’s just a regular con” Dean explained, the conversation was sounding a bit ridiculous. “Turns out the ghost of Nurse Glockner is our culprit,” He added.

“We think she was doing some vigilante thing. Killing the cons she felt deserved it” He whispered. Y/N leaned her forehead against the glass thoughtfully and chewed the inside of her bottom lip as she listened. “Alright. I’ll get on that right now.” Y/N nodded, “And Dean?” She said quietly, her eyes flickering to meet his.

“Yeah?” He responded, leaning his forehead against his side of the glass, their faces mere inches away from each other, the only thing separating them was the glass. “Please be careful” Y/N pleaded, placing her hand up against the glass.

He smiled softly at her, a look of tenderness appearing in his features. His hand instinctively went up to the glass, mirroring hers. He wished he could touch her, hold her, bring her in his arms. He missed that more than anything, but he couldn’t. His gaze was soft and gentle as he spoke, “I will” He promised.

“Good. I want you to come back in one piece” She told him firmly. “No promises, sweetheart” He joked with a smirk, but deep down he was serious. She narrowed her eyes at him in response, not amused. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding” He put his free hand up in front of him, as if surrendering before leaning his head on the glass again.

She finally chuckled softly but rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously. Be careful, sweetie.” She warned again, more firmly than the previous time. She didn’t let him respond, instead, she placed a kiss on her hand and pressed it against the glass. Offering him a small smile before reattaching the phone to the compartment.

Dean felt his chest flutter at the sight of it, a feeling of warmth spreading through his body. He gave her a smile in return, a real smile. His heart ached for her, he missed her so damned much. His heart almost exploded when she planted the kiss behind the glass.

Dean watched as she walked away, mimicking the action after she left. He pressed a kiss to his hand before placing it in the exact spot she placed her own kiss. Unfortunately, her back was turnt to him as she walked out the door, so she didn’t get to see, but he didn't care. Just seeing her, even if there was a glass separating them, just made his day.

A feeling of emptiness consumed him when her figure disappeared through the door. He sat in the chair, staring at the closed door with a look of disappointment and heartache before placing the phone back into the compartment. He wanted to get out so badly, he felt like a caged animal in a prison cell. He knew he was getting out in five hours, but it felt like an eternity.

He sighed as he ran a hand down his face, “Dammit” He muttered to himself.

Y/N could feel her heart in her ass as she exited the building. Her hands were buried in her pockets of her trench-coat, quickly making her way to the Impala where Jo sat waiting in the passenger seat. Jo had a bored expression on her face, looked back towards her upon her seeing Y/N walking towards the car. “Well?” She asked, wanting to be updated on the visit.

Y/N sighed heavily as she opened the driver's side door, plopping into the seat. “They want us to do some research on a Nurse Glockner who worked there in the 70s. We gotta get this like yesterday because Deacon already called me, they’re breaking out tonight.“ Y/N explained as she peeled off the dusty blonde wig, tossing it in the backseat.

“Glockner? That’s kind of a weird name ” Jo responded, her head tilted as she watched her friend toss the wig into the back. “Wait, they’re getting out tonight?” Jo’s eyes widened at the news. “Yep, you’re getting to see your boy toy, don’t worry” Y/N teased Jo about Sam as she started the ignition to Baby.

“Shut up,” Jo muttered with a roll of her eyes to Y/N’s joke about Sam, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ll get to see your boy toy too, you know” She retorted with a smirk on her face. Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought of seeing Dean soon, “Shut up,” She responded, pulling out of the parking lot.

Two hours later, Sam was waiting in the prison yard for Dean, his eyes scanning the area. It was pretty easy to point out that Sam hated being there, he was just counting down the hours until they could bust out of this hell-hole and he can get back to a dingy old motel and call Jo but he didn��t know she was already in town with Y/N.

Sam let out an impatient sigh as he paced the yard of the prison, his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his orange jumpsuit. He hated it, he’d much rather just hunt monsters down than be stuck behind a set of bars.

He also missed Jo a lot. He had missed seeing her smile, her laugh, her eyes, the way she could make him feel things he didn’t normally feel. Just the thought of her made his heart skip a beat. All he wanted to do was-

His thought process was cut short when Dean came into view, he waved at his brother from across the yard. Quickly making his way over to him, “How’d it go?” He asked Dean about his visit with Y/N. “As good as a visit through a piece of glass can go, I guess” Dean responded, not able to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I could hardly see her,” He added. The disappointment that Sam heard in his voice was obvious. Dean cleared his throat, shook his head and stuffed his hands into his own jacket. “She’s digging up some dirt on the deadly nurse” He filled him in.

“We can’t wait around too long, Dean,” Sam said impatiently. “Sammy, relax. It’s Y/N, the chick can dig up lore half asleep, running on a pack of cigarettes and a cup of Joe. She’s got this” Dean assured his brother. Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stuffed his hands in his pockets again. “Even if she can’t do it, we could give it another day,” Dean added firmly.

Sam clenched his jaw, “No no no, we’re leaving tonight, and that’s it” He said stubbornly, “So we’re not gonna finish the job? We’re just gonna let these people die?” Dean gritted his teeth as Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t give me that, alright? This was your stupid plan. And me and y/n went along with it, much to our demise, so we’re sticking to the plan, Dean” Sam kept his voice low but firm.

Dean’s nostrils flared as he ran his fingers along his bruised eye, “Okay, you leave. I’m gonna stay” Dean spat before turning on his heels to walk away. Sam’s eyes widened. “Hey, don’t turn away from me!” Sam shouted, “Fuck you!” Dean shot back angrily, “What?! Fuck you!!” Sam’s blood boiled as he grabbed his big brother by his shoulder, forcing him to look at him.

Dean instantly retaliated, shoving his little brother harshly by his chest. A herd of guards were instantly on their asses, one holding back Dean and another holding back Sam. “Alright, hard case. I see the usual methods ain’t gonna work with you!” The familiar guard said harshly as he tossed Dean into the other guard's hands.

“You too, sweetheart” He growled at Sam, snatching him by his shoulder. The Winchester brothers glared at each other as they were escorted from the prison yard and to the showers.

One of the guards shoved Sam and Dean into the shower as the familiar guard said, “Take off. I wanna handle this alone.” He instructed him, the subordinate listened, doing exactly as told. As he left the showers, the guard turned to the pair of brothers, approaching them slowly.

A smile broke out on his face as he ruffled Dean’s hair, the three men chuckling. “Deacon, you are beating the holy hell out of me, man” Dean groaned as they turned around, Deacon chuckled in response as he undid their handcuffs. “Sorry, Dean. I thought I was going easy on you” Deacon shot back playfully, undoing Sam’s handcuffs.

Dean laughed in response, “I’m just, uh, trying to make it look real” Deacon assured them as he unhooked the cuffs. “Yeah, well, mission accomplished,” Dean snorted. “Thanks for those phones, by the way, came in real handy” Dean said gratefully before patting his brother on his shoulder. “My brother here was missing his girl” He chuckled, earning a bitchface from Sam.

Deacon chuckled as he watched the Winchester brothers, finding the interaction slightly amusing. Sam was already pissed off for a few reasons, and Dean's words about him missing Jo just pissed him off more as he shoved him by his shoulder.

“Shut up. Speak for yourself” Sam hissed, rolling his eyes at his brother’s comment and shoving Dean back. Deacon chuckled once again at the exchange, “No worries, man. So, is it over?” Deacon asked them as he stuffed the handcuffs into his pockets.

“No, it turns out it wasn’t Moody” Sam sighed, “What?” Deacon's jaw dropped, “Yeah” Sam nodded. “Then who?” He asked, “Uh, we think it’s some nurse who used to work here. But we’re still shy on all the intel we need. Now my sister is working on it but we’re not sure if she’s gonna get the intel in time” Sam explained.

“Which is why we should stick around until we find it” Dean said, receiving a glare from Sam in return. “Oh, hey, guys” Deacon began as he pulled something out of his pocket, Sam started on Dean’s case. “You wanna have this fight for real, Dean?! We gotta go, we gotta go now!” Sam shouted at his brother.

“I’m just saying, Y/N will get it done!” Dean defended. “Guys-” Deacon tried to butt in. “We’re leaving, Dean! Otherwise we’ll be leaving in shackles for Milwaukee with Henricksen as company!” Sam argued, “Oh come on!” Dean scoffed, waving a dismissive hand at Sam. “Guys!!!” Deacon shouted.

“What?!” The Winchesters snapped in unison, turning to Deacon. The prison guard had an amused look on his face as he held up a paper, handing it to Dean. “Your girlfriend left this for you” Deacon chuckled. Dean's heart fluttered for a split second as he snatched the letter from Deacon.

Dean chuckled victoriously before turning to Sam, “I told you y/n would get it done!” Dean exclaimed triumphantly, waving the paper with the information on Nurse Glockner on it. “Man, I am fucking velvety smooth” Dean said smugly as he tore open the letter, “You wanna maybe open it, you know, after you’re done patting yourself on the back, loverboy??” Sam sassed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes Deacon snickered in amusement at the exchange between the brothers as Dean opened up the letter. “Wow,” Dean muttered as he read the information that was neatly written in Y/N’s handwriting. “What? Well, you wanna share with the class, Dean?” Sam asked impatiently.

“Glockner died in the old cell block right after Moody bit it” Dean informed them, Sam’s eyes widened as he and Deacon shared a panicked look. “Seems like they had a little inmate uprising, she got caught in the middle. They dragged her to a solitary cell, gave her a severe cerebral edema” Dean read. “Someone bashed her head in,” Sam gasped.

“Yeah.” Dean muttered, “Say where she’s buried?” Sam asked, “Yep. Seems like y/n already handled it” Dean nodded, a proud smile on his face at the fact that within a couple of hours, she got the information and took care of the spirit. Sam smiled in relief at this, “Alright, let’s get you the hell outta here” Deacon said before moving over to a vent in the showers. .

Sam and Dean nodded in obedience, “Boys, uh…I can’t thank you enough for this. I know it was asking a lot, but you two and your friend still came through.” Deacon said gratefully, “Your daddy and his friend raised you kids right” Deacon complimented them, Dean smiled softly, appreciating the compliment as Sam gulped.

“Well, we owed you” Sam assured him with a timid nod, placing his hand out to shake Deacon. The guard accepted, pulling Sam into a firm bro-hug. “I hope to see you again, huh? Just not in here, okay?” Deacon said to the pair as he hugged Dean. The three chuckled as they nodded.

“Yeah, we’ll do our best” Sam assured him, “Right, yeah” Dean laughed as they moved over to the vent. Dean then suddenly remembered something, turning back to Deacon with his fist up. “Oh. Where do you want it?” He smirked at Deacon. “What?” Deacon asked, confused.

Dean gave him his classic cheeky smile in hopes he’d get to punch him as a cover up of them escaping after Deacon practically beat the hell out of him. Realization dawned on the prison guard’s mind as he snorted, “Yeah, uhem..” He pointed to his cheek. Dean instantly reeled back his fist. “Uh-” Deacon stopped him.

Dean raised his brow at him, “Make it look real, son” Deacon smirked, Dean chuckled in return before nodding and reading his fist back. Sam instantly turned his head away as Dean right hooked Deacon across his jaw.

Deacon groaned in pain as he clutched his jaw in agony. Sam chuckled as Deacon continued grunting and groaning in pain, as Dean watched with a smirk on his face. “Damn, you sure know how to put some force behind those swings,” Deacon grunted, “I’ll be feeling that for days, man” He added, wincing as he spat out some blood from his mouth.

“That’s the idea, big guy,” Dean said gruffly as he patted him on the back. Deacon chuckled as he held his jaw, “That hit was for kneeing me” Dean retorted, patting his midsection.

____________________________________________

Sam and Dean appeared in the parking lot a few minutes later, quickly making their way over to the beloved car. “Hey!” Sam called out as they approached Y/N who was leaning against the Impala, smoking a cigarette. “Woahh, look at those handsome faces. I hope you fellas didn’t drop the soap” Y/N teased as she tossed the cigarette on the ground, crushing it with her boot.

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny” Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff as wrapped his arms around her shoulders into a quick hug, Y/N returned the hug as a smile stretched across Dean’s face, “Oh, baby. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” Dean muttered, eyeing his car. “Are you talking to me or the car?” Y/N teased as Sam stripped out of his jacket, he was yet to see Jo in the passenger side as they were all on the drivers side.

“I’m talking to the most beautiful girl I know who just so happens to be leaning up against my car” Dean smirked, Y/N rolled her eyes, she never failed to blush or get butterflies in her stomach whenever he would compliment her, especially with that mischievous smile that was a hundred times more sexier in the orange glow illuminated from the orange lamp in the parking lot.

“Don’t try to be smooth now, asshat” She chuckled, pulling him in for a hug. Dean wrapped his arms around her frame, pulling her into him. He inhaled her scent which always seemed to soothe him as he buried his nose into the crook of her neck. Y/N smiled and tightened her grip around his waist.

Sam rolled his eyes at the two, crossing his arms over his chest. “I got a gift for you, Sammy” Y/N told him as she and Dean pulled away from the hug. Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion, then a honk from the Impala caused him to jump. His heart stopped when he heard, “You better give me one of those hugs, Winchester” Jo’s voice filled his ears as she climbed out of the passenger side.

His eyes widened as he looked over at the passenger side, his breath hitched in his throat as his heart skipped a beat or twenty when he saw Jo, she closed the car door after hopping out. As quickly as he could, Sam wrapped his arms around her frame, hugging her tightly against his body as Jo chuckled softly, returning the same affection.

Sam buried his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent as Y/N watched in amusement alongside Dean as they leaned against the hood, watching the scene play out in front of them. “I’ve got a gift for you too” Dean smirked at Y/N, reaching into his jacket pocket.

Y/N looked up at him curious as to what ‘gift’ he had for her. Dean’s smirk grew, knowing that she would absolutely love it and probably laugh her ass off. “You do, huh?” She smirked back as she shoved her hands into her leather jacket.

“Mhm,” Dean responded with a small nod, his smirk still firmly in place in his face as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes he saved from when he won playing poker. “Tada” He said in a mockingly theatrical way, waving the pack in her face. Her eyes widened, excitement filling in them as she eagerly took the pack from him,

“Prison cigarettes?” She gasped mockingly, placing a hand over her mouth. “A man after my heart” She teased. “Something like that,” Dean responded, his smirk widening. He noticed the way her eyes lit up when he handed her the cigarettes, and her sarcastic comment made him chuckle. He loved seeing her excited and happy, even if it was over a simple thing like a pack of cigarettes.

“Ahem” Jo cleared her throat dramatically, leaning against the Impala with Sam beside her, a smug smile gracing his features. Dean and Y/N had seemingly forgotten Jo and Sam were right there. Y/N and Dean snapped out of their own little world and turned their attention to the other pair, who were casually leaning against the Impala, watching them with amused expressions on their faces.

Y/N chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, feeling a bit embarrassed for not paying attention while Sam and Jo stood there, grinning at the two. “We don’t mean to break up the love fest, but we gotta go before they haul all our asses in jail” Jo joked as Sam opened the back door for her.

Y/N shot Jo a nasty glare for her comment, “Shut up, skank” She huffed in annoyance as she opened the drivers side door, the keys dangling in her hand. Dean smirked, a little bit of pink playing on his freckled nose. He would never get tired of watching her drive Baby. He climbed into the passenger's seat, while Sam got into the back next to Jo.

“Bite me, slut” Jo retorted, grinning widely as Y/N started the Impala. “Oh, I’ll bite you alright” Y/N threatened with a smirk, “I’m not promising you’ll like it though” She added as she shifted into drive and started pulling out of the parking lot. “Oh, baby I’ll like it” Jo winked playfully at Y/N, this made her roll her eyes as Dean bursted out into laughter.

“Jesus, you guys are gross” Sam muttered from the backseat with a roll of his eyes, Jo giggled as she elbowed him. Y/N heard his comment and flipped him off through the rearview mirror, causing him to scoff out a laugh.

When Dean’s laughter subsided, he narrowed his eyes at Y/N’s chest, and not for the reason you’re thinking of. A wide smirk graced his face, his eyes flickering to the back where Sam and Jo sat, the two seemingly now in their own bubble as they spoke. Dean gently bumped Y/N on her knee.

Y/N looked over at Dean in puzzlement, confused as to why he was smirking at her. “What?” She asked him. Dean nodded down to her chest, that smirk still plastered on his face. “Nice shirt” Dean mused, pointing out the fact that Y/N was wearing his Led Zeppelin shirt.

Y/N chuckled as she looked down at the shirt she was wearing. It was also one of Dean’s favorites, it was very worn-out and well-loved, but she loved wearing it. “Yeah, well I didn’t do laundry. You know I hate it” She responded teasingly, waving it off but he wasn’t dumb and knew that she stole it.

“Uh-huh” Dean hummed in amusement, seeing right through her excuse. “Sure you didn’t” He added sarcastically. Y/N rolled her eyes at him and shoved his shoulder playfully with her free hand, the other on the steering wheel.

“Whatever. It’s comfy, okay? Sue me” Y/N muttered, trying to change the subject. Dean shook his head with a light snort. The gesture went straight to his head, boasting his ego. He thought she looked unbelievably hot in them, but he was gonna only admit that to himself.

As Y/N drove, the car was filled with laughter, playful banter and casual conversation. Sam and Jo continued to tease each other in the backseat while Dean and Y/N engaged in their own conversation, practically in their own little bubble again. The atmosphere was light and carefree, a nice change of pace from the previous intense and dangerous situation from the prison.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Hi beauties!! I hope you guys loved this episode because so far, it was one of my favorite’s to write for this season (Born Under A Bad Sign has a special place in my heart since it was the one I was most excited for🫶)

Now we all know which episode is next *coughs dramatically* I’m so freaking anxious for it gaaahhhhh😩

Can I just say, how I think this was a lot to unpack and how fucking TIRED I am of Dean and Y/N because they’re already acting like a damn couple but won’t ADMIT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER FUCKKKKK. I’M PHYSICALLY ILL BROOOO JESUSSS🥲

Okay, I’m done having my breakdown😭Once again, I hope everyone loved my interpretation of this episode, I’m not gonna lie, I really wanted y/n in prison😔

Tell me what you loved and what you hated about it, don’t be shy! Until the next episode…. *coughs dramatically again*

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr

Xoxo

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biasbuck · 2 months ago

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BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fraturday

Hi everyone, how we holding up? I'm coping (ish) with a Ghost Whisperer watch through and an abundance of wonderful fic. Back with another fortnight of fic that I've read and loved recently, and wow there's been some amazing stories! As always you can find previous rec lists here.

14 December 2024

at this fork in the road (I want the path that leads me to you) by @polkadotk804 was recommended to me by an anon (thank you!), and has firmly cemented polkadot as a must read author! A sliding doors split narrative fic, in which in one strand Eddie asks Buck to come with him to El Paso, and in another strand he stays silent. Moving, emotional, full of small and large steps to reconciliation with Chris, Eddie as a brilliant Dad actually thank you very much, and the Diaz parents interfering, this is such a great read.

love letters written by someone else's hand by @moonsharky is so much fun!! After the 118's cameo on hotshots' midseason finale, buck finds himself hooked on the show and binge watches the entire series, quickly immersing himself in the fandom life. He's deep diving on reddit and stumbles across RPF of him and Eddie (aka Nurse 1 & 2) and curiosity strikes. Joyful, and brilliantly done.

beating the horse by @doitbuckley in which Eddie is moving to Texas, and looking back at his various 1.0 2.0 upgrades, Buck finally figures out what he wants. But of course first he has to spiral hard, whilst trying not to let on that that's just what he's doing. Oh this hurt so much, but was so good. Buck just absolutely ripping himself to shreds whilst Eddie quietly self combusts in the background. So so satisfying, and I loved the open endedness of it all. Wonderful work!

the sweetest possible lie by @wildehacked Chris’s fifteenth birthday falls on a Tuesday, and it couldn’t be more different from last year. Eddie and Buck take him to dinner to celebrate, and an assumption from the waitstaff leads Chris in a bout of teenage grandiosity to ask why Buck still denies being his father figure when people suggest it. This is short but packs a punch, and has such a clever and sympathetic eye on youthful wilfulness, as well as the balancing act that Buck and Eddie are on.

Somethings Said (to turn you inside out) by taegyungie absolutely KILLED ME with the sexual tension, my goodness, I kept having to pause to catch my breath. During the end scene in 8x08, Buck catches Eddie on Grindr, gets confirmation he's started sleeping with men...and now Buck can't stop thinking about it. Absolutely unable to stop his curiosity, he finds himself drawn to Eddie's profile, and soon casual chatting leads to more. Absolutely sizzling hot, and the voice and characterisation of their teasing friendship developing was so gorgeous.

bad luck to talk and the strangers by jaekyu both incredible! In BLTT, we get thee most miscommunicating dummies fic - in which buddie start having casual sex in the midst of season 8 but do not talk about it, just add it to the mix of their friendship. Eddie is convinced this means they are dating, Buck thinks it must be a case of fwb as Eddie can't love him. They both reexamine with the benefit of hindsight. It's hot, compelling, and full of aching romantic tension. In The Strangers, we have them coping with Eddie moving to El Paso by hooking up, and then Eddie running, with Buck later visiting, and the cycle repeating. It's so much connection and hope and pain, and beautiful, with some A+ Eddie thesis statements.

and i fell (like a dead body falls) by fearofgod oh my god this one near broke me 😭 Buck and Eddie are on their first date, when the ground literally drops out from beneath their feet in an explosion at the restaurant. Both badly injured, they rely on each other to help those they're trapped with, whilst life slowly drifts ever further away. I realised as I was reading that I hadn’t checked for a MCD tag and was genuinely like oh god what if they actually die? (Don't worry, there's a hope!) I really adored the characterisation of them both being already all in on their relationship, and the weight of their friendship and working partnership history coming to the fore in the crisis, and yet that they were still figuring things out and on the cusp of feelings actualisation. Literally an edge of your seat, heart in your mouth read and some absolutely stellar hurt/comfort fic.

I have had enough of crime by @lamardeuse will I ever get enough of Josh and Eddie gay yoda worsties? Not likely! The author sums this up brilliantly as 'Josh's view of Eddie's journey in 8A and beyond through the gay Olympic sport of competitive brunching.' Delightfully bitchy but also forging a solid foundation of quiet friendship and support, I loved this so much.

I should be pushing daisies by @exhuastedpigeon ooooh this was so healing. With Eddie leaving for Texas, Buck is still in LA and at the 118, and pining. He leans on the people around him, Bobby, Maddie and long calls with Eddie over facetime. All he needs now is a Christmas miracle. The perfect warm hug of a holiday fic.

That's all for now, see you soon for Christmas recs!

#biasbuck recs #buddie fic #buddie ficrec #buddie fanfic #911 fic #911 ficrec #911 abc #(thank you Rose for screaming about a lot of these in DMs with me <3)

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charls-lamen · 2 months ago

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I saw a tiktok talking about how she didn't like Jayce's and Mels dynamic for season 2 how Mel Jayce was kind of unceremoniously dropped.

And my first thought was I guess they wanted to emphasize Victor Jayce more in season 2. But then I saw the episode where Jayce and Mel hooked up again. So first Jayce and Mel hook up while Victor gets sick and collapses. Then you have this montage of "Enemy" in show Vi goes to fight Sevika, Marcus ponders what to do next getting frustrated breaks a glass and Mel wakes up alone in bed. Scene shifts to Victor in bed with Jayce by his side.

Now I'm not saying it's wrong for Jayce to go see Victor and only natural he'd panic. But pairing the scene with Mel waking up alone with enemy by imagine dragons playing in the background to Jayce with Victor no more music...i mean it's a choice.

And then after that Jayce goes to see Mel. She seems ticked that he left he says sorry and that Victors dying. She's less ticked afterwards. But here the thing.

She asks him why he came to her with this and this scene plays out.

It's a sweet sentiment . But he didn't come to apologize, he didn't come to explain himself. He came for comfort for his pain about Victor dying and looking for empowerment so he can find a way to save him. He came for himself, he came for Victor. He didn't come for Mel.

In response to this statement from Jayce Mel opens up about being a exile because she fell short of Merdada standards. Jayce says he doesnt believe that and asks if she does. She switches the focus back onto Jayce and Victor and says this.

Ignoring how the subtitles call Jayce chase

She literally spelled out the ending of Jayce and Victors story. Jayce couldn't change Victor's fate and made sure he didn't face it alone . She says be with him. They comfort each other and get comfort from each other but she sets this space between them be with Victor she says.

Mel wakes up alone and that scene is followed up by Victor with Jayce and then when Jayce goes to talk to her Mel says choose Victor she says I understand your feelings how much you care for him that's ok.

Mel and Jayce weren't just dropped imo them having a more temporary relationship where they'd drift eventually was always the plan from the start. I just didn't remember their conversations 😅

For the record I'm not suggesting Jayce wasn't attracted to Mel or there's no issues with the writing of their relationship. I just realized this was perhaps always the plan for Jayce and Mel and how I forgot about the details of this scene.

#mel #jayce #victor #arcane #mine #jaymel #jayvik #mel medarda #arcane spoilers #jayce talis

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writeplace-wrongtime · 1 year ago

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The Bet

*cracks knuckles* fine, I'll do it myself.

Okay but seriously, I've only binge watched the first 6 seasons of criminal minds, so I'm probably a bit off with character personalities.

This turned into mostly the team finding out, so if anyone wants a part 2 with more scenes pre-reveal I'd love to write it!

masterlist coming soon

Word Count: 3k

CW// brief mention of kidnapping case, use of y/n (i'm sorry), not beta'd

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘When was the last time you saw Hotch leave before the rest of us?’

The most recent case had been a relatively short one, allowing the team to get back to Quantico reasonably early. A young man caught kidnapping local women, caught easily when he appeared on CCTV taking his latest victim. Three women, three days. All had minor injuries, but all were alive. It had been the ideal end to the case and no loss of life meant the paperwork was minimal.

Emily’s voice caught the attention of Derek, who followed her gaze to the elevator, where the Unit Chief stood waiting. He raised his eyebrows, trying to think back on the last few months of late nights, week-long cases and multiple middle of the night calls.

‘Not since before his divorce,’ Spencer piped up helpfully from behind his desk, packing away the days half-finished reports and case notes before he too looked up. ‘Hey, has anyone seen y/l/n? They mentioned going for food on the jet, and I know this really nice Indian restaurant not far from here, I was going to suggest we all go.’

Now that Emily thought about it, she hadn’t seen you after you’d gone to Hotch’s office to drop off your report. Barely five minutes later, Hotch had made a beeline for the elevator, leaving unusually early compared to normal, and then you too had disappeared.

‘Holy shit.’ The dots were connecting in her head. ‘They’re totally hooking up!’

This gathered the full attention of everyone in the room.

‘Who’s hooking up?’ Penelope had her bag in hand as she peeked in the door, drawn to the gossip like a moth to a flame.

‘Y/l/n and Hotch!’

‘Oh my god!’ Penelope was quick to rush over to the group now huddled around Emily’s desk.

‘No way,’ Derek was shaking his head, arms crossed over his chest. They’d been working as a team for years, there’s no way you and Hotch were in a secret relationship, and no one had noticed. ‘Come on, you really think they could have hidden something like that from us?’

Spencer shrugged, joining the conversation fully. ‘Hotch hid the fact that Emily was alive from all of us for months, so a secret relationship wouldn’t be that hard for him.’ Emily grimaced at the comparison, searching for any hint of bitterness in his tone, though found none. He had been hurt that they hadn’t trusted him to know the secret, but that hurt had faded over the couple years since Emily had returned. He offered her an apologetic smile, as if only realising what he’d said.

‘Want to make this more interesting?’ Quick to bring the conversation back to inane office gossip, Emily reached into her bag to pull out her purse. ‘100 dollars they’re doing it.’

‘Oh, you’re on. 100 they’re not.’ Derek placed two fifties on top of Emily’s two. Another two went down, and they both looked up to see Spencer sheepishly tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

‘I think they’ve been dating for a couple weeks now, I assumed everyone else had noticed.’

Quickly, Penelope had joined, and much to everyone’s surprise, so did Rossi. Penelope thought they’d just started dating, and Rossi thought it had been at least six months. JJ scooped up the cash, promising to be a neutral party to assure the winner got the whole lot. Plus, when this inevitably went wrong, she did not want to be involved in the fallout.

‘Okay, but how do we get them to admit-‘

‘Or not admit,’ Derek cut in.

‘Or not admit, what’s going on?’ Emily mused. Everyone’s eyes instantly went to Penelope.

‘Oh no, no, no-‘

Penelope’s office felt quite cramped with some many people in it, the space only meant to house one technical analyst, not one technical analyst and five nosey special agents. Five nosey agents who were all huddled around Penelope to peer at the screen over her shoulders.

‘Oh it does not feel right tracking their phones like this,’ Penelope’s fingers danced across the keys as she brought up both locations, ‘My powers should only be used for good, not- not snooping on our friends personal lives!’ Still, she let the trace run its course, displaying the address for the others to see.

‘That’s Hotch’s apartment.’ Spencer recognised the address immediately. Two little dots blinked on the screen, Hotch’s address hovering above them.

‘So they’re together, that doesn’t mean they’re hooking up.’ Derek knew his argument was weak, but hell he had 100 dollars riding on it.

‘Oh come on, they sneak out and go to Hotch’s apartment and you think they’re what, making cookies?’

‘Kids, stop fighting,’ Dave put a hand on both Derek and Emily’s shoulders. ‘Why don’t you just phone y/l/n, invite them for food, see what happens.’

‘You think they’d lie to us?’ Spencer asked, as Penelope pulled out her phone and dialled your number.

‘They’ve been lying to us about this for weeks, if you’re bet is right anyway,’ Emily nudged him with her elbow. He nudged her back.

‘Technically it’s an omission not a lie, since none of us directly asked if they’re-‘

‘Shhh its ringing!’ The room fell to silence as Penelope put her phone to her ear.

Even though it had been a short case, you had been looking forward to getting back. And by how quickly Aaron had offered up his apartment for a movie night, he had been too. It was important to keep a clear line between boss and boyfriend while in the field, and it was only professional to stay in separate rooms during cases, so it felt good to have Aaron back in boyfriend mode, with comforting touches and quality time away from the office, away from the titles and roles that accompanied your positions at the BAU.

You had finished your report in record time. It was pure luck that everyone was too caught up in their own work to notice you slipping away. After dropping your report on Aaron’s desk, you had made a quick exit, waiting by Aaron’s car until he joined you in the car park. It had become routine to leave short gaps between your arrivals and exits, allowing the illusion that you had travelled separately, from different apartments, in different cars. It was a short ride back to his apartment.

You had only just settled back against Aaron’s side, a bowl of popcorn perched between your thighs when your phone buzzed.

‘Hey beautiful, where’d you run off to?’ Penelope’s sweet voice rang out from the other end of the line, ‘We’re going for food, you coming with?’

You glanced sideways at Aaron, who kept his eyes on the TV, though you knew he was listening in by the way his arm tensed around you. You gently squeezed the arm closest to you, relaxing further into his hold so he knew you weren’t planning on leaving.

‘Sorry Pen, not tonight, I’m, uh, not feeling great after today’s case…’ You trailed off, hoping she’d accept the excuse and you’d be home free. You should’ve known it wouldn’t be as simple as that. There was pause, and you could’ve sworn you could hear hushed conversation. Must’ve been the rest of the team packing up to leave. You felt almost guilty that they were still at the office, when you’d left as soon as your own report was done.

‘Oh honey!’ Her voice was laced with sympathy, ‘That’s it, we’ll bring the food to you! Nothing like good food and company to cheer up the soul!’ Your head fell back against Aaron’s chest with more force than necessary. Curse her and her kindness.

‘No, no it’s okay, really-‘ You tried to prevent your voice from giving away your panic, ‘No need to go out of your way! Tell the guys I said enjoy!’

‘Its not out of our way at all! See you in twenty, gorgeous.’ The line went dead before you had a chance to respond. You could feel the vibrations of Aaron’s quiet laugh behind you, tilting your head back to look up at him.

‘You think this funny?’ Your words were pointed, but the smile on your lips gave away your hidden amusement. In lieu of an answer, he leaned down to pepper kisses along your shoulder, the side of your neck, anywhere he could reach. You savoured the warmth of his lips against your skin, a soft moan escaping your parted lips as the kisses became more heated. Tilting your head back to give him easier access, you let out a disappointed whine when he instead detached from you, gently pushing you up until you were sitting straight.

‘They’re going to be at your apartment soon,’ He reminded you, giving your arm a squeeze before moving to stand. Your cheeks were flushed red, taking a few steadying breaths as he took the popcorn from your lap, placing it on the coffee table, before holding his hands out to you. Shooting him a mock glare, you resigned yourself to getting off the comfortable couch and getting your shoes on. As much as you loved your co-workers, so much that they were practically family, you really did not want to spend the evening with them, not when you could be curled up on the couch with Aaron, pretending the outside world didn’t exist.

‘Shit,’ You nearly tripped over your untied laces in your hurry to turn, ‘My car’s still at the office, Aaron I don’t have time to get back there, get my car AND-‘ Your words were halted by the soft press of his lips on yours. Clearly, you weren’t the only one wishing you could stay. Melting against him, your hands found purchase on the solid expanse of his shoulders, fingers digging into the soft material of his t-shirt. He pulled back, just far enough so he could press his forehead against yours.

‘I’ll drive,’ His voice was quiet in the minimal space between you, ‘Tell them your car broke down and I offered you a lift home.’ You just hummed your agreement, too caught up in his closeness to really be paying full attention. Overwhelming warmth encompassed you as you breathed in the faint smell of his cologne, trying to catalogue the feeling in your mind as your panic disappeared with the gentlest of touches.

‘Or,’ You offered mildly, blinking up at him through your lashes, ‘We could just turn our phones off, lock the door, and deal with all of this tomorrow?’ Soft open-mouthed kisses were pressed to the column of his throat in between your words, hands climbing to wrap around the back of his neck. Your fingertips teased the baby hairs at the base of his skull. You knew he wouldn’t take you up on the offer, even when his hands gripped at your waist, pulling you flush against him as he once again claimed your lips with his.

It had been a tough decision, keeping the relationship from your team, but you had both ultimately decided that it was for the best, at least while things were still new. Then, six weeks had turned into six months, and six months into nearly a year. It was becoming harder and harder to keep a secret, and you nearly wanted the team to catch on. You’d met Jessica, and had a proper introduction to Jack, even going so far as to have gone to a few of his soccer practices at Jack’s insistence. You had been slowly moving your stuff into his room, small things like toiletries, pyjamas and a few spare work outfits. You spent more time at Aaron’s apartment than your own. You loved it. What you didn’t love, was having to hide it all from your friends.

‘We really should go,’ Aaron murmured against your lips, ‘At least you’ll get free food out of this.’

You laughed softly at that, pressing one last kiss to his lips before pulling back, cheeks dusted pink. ‘I’d rather have you.’ A rare boyish grin was your only response, before he turned to grab his keys and you quickly tied your laces. You were soon on the familiar road home.

They didn’t wait around to see if you were rushing from Hotch’s apartment, instead piling into the back of Derek’s car haphazardly. All but JJ, who had familial responsibilities, and Rossi who just wanted to go home, managed to fit into one SUV. If Rossi had been with them to take some of the blame, Derek might’ve even thrown on the sirens and lights. Instead, he skipped through a few orange lights, and just barely stuck to the speed limits. When they arrived at the Indian restaurant, Spencer was sent to pick up the order, being deemed least likely to do something stupid like flash his badge for quicker service. Emily followed him inside to help carry it all back to the car. Even without the badge, they managed to make it in and out in under ten minutes. Luck was on their side, getting them to your apartment just 25 minutes after Penelope had hung up on you.

When they came to a stop outside your apartment complex, your car wasn’t parked in its normal spot, and they had a moment of celebration before Spencer realised the light was on inside. A light that meant you had beat them.

They all had to hide their disappointment when you greeted them at the door, not showing any sign of having rushed from one apartment to the other. Being one of the closer apartments to the office, yours was often used as a base for nights out, girl’s nights, and team movie-nights. It was the team’s apartment more than it had ever been just yours. Moving seamlessly through your kitchen grabbing plates, cutlery and glasses, Emily and Penelope set to organising the food, while Spencer and Derek moved your coffee table to the centre of the room so everyone could sit around it. It warmed you to know they felt at home here.

‘I’ll have to get someone to look at it tomorrow,’ You sounded morose enough that Emily almost believed your “car trouble” story. She just hummed her commiserations before stealing some chicken from your Jalfrezi. As much as she’d hoped to catch you and Hotch in your lie – or omission as Spencer would remind her – she enjoyed spending time with you, and this had been the perfect excuse for a team night.

‘Hotch didn’t stick around after dropping you off?’ Emily asked casually, scooping up a mouthful of curry with the edge of a poppadom. If you noticed the groups sudden interest in your conversation you didn’t show it. You shook your head, pushing the thought of his hands on your waist and his lips on your skin, out of your mind.

‘He was just being nice, he probably has better things to be doing after a case than hanging out here.’

Derek had to hide his laugh with a cough. You frowned at him, but before you could question it, Emily dragged you back into a conversation about Sergio and how he stole her bagel the other day. She glared at Derek when you weren’t looking. Conversation flowed easily after that, and it wasn’t long before everyone was on their second helping of food and the booze cupboard had been ransacked.

‘Hey babygirl, you seeing what I’m seeing?’ Derek had just sat back down with his second full plate when he spotted it; the start of your downfall. He nudged Penelope, nodding his head toward you. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before rising nearly to her hairline. A sharp “oh my god” left her lips, before she covered her mouth. Just beneath the edge of your oversized t-shirt, a small red mark was blooming on your skin. It looked suspiciously like a hickey. A very, very new one at that. Penelope’s little outburst was quickly noted by Emily, who paused mid-conversation to notice what they had. Her shit-eating grin matched Derek’s perfectly.

‘What?’ You frowned at her, quickly glancing at Spencer opposite you. He shrugged, offering no help.

‘Maybe Hotch stuck around for a little while after all?’ There was a teasing lilt to her tone as she reached out to tug your collar a little lower. You could feel heat rising up your neck into your cheeks, a beautiful shade of crimson. Covering the offending mark with your hand, you tried to come up with an excuse. Nothing came. Opening your mouth and then closing it a few times, you tried to look anywhere but at your friends. You were caught and you knew it. They knew it too.

‘Is there any point in me saying I burnt myself?’ You tried for a smile, but it turned out more like a grimace.

‘Nope.’ Emily said, popping the “p”.

‘Aaron and I, we, uh…’ You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, your blush darkening, as Penelope mouthed “Aaron!” at Emily, who practically giggled. You were going to have to restock your alcohol cupboard before they came round again. You took a breath, glancing around the room. All eyes were on you.

‘We’re dating.’

There was an immediate outburst of “oh my god!”s and “I knew it!”s. You had expected to feel awful when your secret was finally out in the open, but all you could feel was relief. Well, and a tinge of embarrassment. Warmth bubbled in your chest, looking around the room at your team, your family, knowing you didn’t have to hide it from them anymore.

‘What ya thinking about over there?’ Emily nudged your arm, a small tendril of guilt creeping through her. You’d obviously wanted to spend your evening with Hotch, and instead they’d dragged you away in a hurry, all just to invade your privacy. A small grin broke through your façade.

‘I’m thinking, seeing as it’s not a secret anymore, I can leave you losers and go back to spending the night with my boyfriend.’ A chorus of cheers followed your words, and someone (you suspected Emily) shouted “Go get some, girl!”.

Spencer wrinkled his nose at that. ‘Gross, remember that’s Hotch we’re taking about, he’s pretty much our work dad.’ His words caused a laugh to bubble in your chest, and you leaned over Emily to plant a big kiss on his cheek.

‘Guess that makes me your new work-mom!’ He made a big show of wiping your kiss from his cheek, but the small smile that followed gave away his charade.

‘What are you waiting for beautiful? Your man is waiting for you!’ Your wide grin echoed Penelope’s as she ushered you up and out of the living room. Your overnight gear was already at Aaron’s, so all you needed was your shoes and phone. You felt almost giddy as you threw the spare key to Spencer.

‘Don’t stay up too late kiddos!’

‘Hey, hold on a second,’ You glanced at Derek, who had started stacking plates to take to the kitchen, ‘How long has this been going on?’

‘Oh… Y’know, only about 11… months.’ You shot them an abashed smile, before darting for the door as all hell broke loose.

‘You didn’t win the bet either!’ Emily and Derek’s argument floated out the door with you, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Of course they had bet on it. You didn’t have it in you to care, instead shutting the door with a sound click. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you dialled Aaron’s number.

‘Hey handsome,’ You couldn’t help the smile that carried through in your words, ‘You want to finish that movie?’

#aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fandom #fanfiction #secret relationship #x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert

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writeroutoftime · 2 years ago

Note

Can I request a carmy x reader where they’re dating and carmy blows up at her and he immediately feels bad and tries to apologize and she brushes him off and keeps cooking but gives him the hand signal from s2 and after service he’s a big apologizing mess

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

words: 0.7k

a/n: anon, thank you for this request! had a little trouble with this one, so I'm sorry if anything feels weird or ooc, but I hope you enjoy! (and if we're saying when this takes place - probably few weeks after the bear has been open, so after the end of season 2 but no spoilers)

oOoOo

It started with little annoyances throughout the day that kept building and building. A late delivery of ingredients, last minute cancellation of a large party, and a call-in sick from one of the new hires. Each new development sent Carmen spiraling further and further, all culminating during The Bear's dinner service.

"Where the fuck are my entrees for table 33?" Carmen shouted, his voice ringing out in the kitchen.

"Coming right up, chef." you called back, plating the dishes as fast as you possibly could.

Order after order came through, all night, and being one chef down meant those left in the kitchen had to pick up the extra slack. But the synergy was off and the moment you stepped back to pour the sauce, someone slammed into you from behind, and the sauce went everywhere but the dish - including all down the front of your apron.

"Chef, entrees for 33, now!" Carm's voice rang out with a notable edge to his tone.

Huffing, you quickly salvaged what was left of the sauce. "Hold on." you grounded out finally placing the dishes next to Carmen, waiting for a server to deliver them to customers.

"What is this shit?" he demanded before you could skitter back to your station. "This is looks completely fucked."

"Carmen, calm down. It's fine." you placated, rushing back to work on the next set of orders, but Carm wasn't done just yet as he let the rest of his day finally boil over onto you.

"No, it's not fine. We need to be better than this." he yelled, stalking towards you. " Don't pull this kind of shit again. You need to be better than this!" he yelled, then scoffed as he headed back to expo. "God, don't know why I hired you." he muttered, pulling out the next ticket.

Though his words were hushed, he might as well have yelled them because the entire kitchen went silent, all eyes turning to stare at Carmen. Yes, it wasn't unusual for his outburst, but he had been doing better at managing his stress and frustration. Not to mention he never spoke to you that way before.

It took Carmen a moment, but he finally registered his words once his brain processed the silence and the narrowed glances his way. As though he had been shocked, Carm jumped back from his station and hurried over to yours, wiping sweaty palms on his apron.

"Hey, y/n, I-I shouldn't have shouted at you like that." he started, trying his best to look you in the eyes.

The only response Carmen received was a harsh chop of your knife as you diced the vegetables in front of you for the next set of orders you needed to finish up. Your own rage boiled inside, but this wasn't the time or the place to deal with it, so you channeled everything into your cooking.

"Seriously, that was uncalled for. I didn't mean what I said." Carmen continued, his voice growing a little more desperate at your lack of response. But before he could speak again, he caught your hand gesture through the corner of his eye.

Taking a moment, you placed your knife down and rubbed a closed fist against your chest. Of course, Carmen wasn't off the hook, but you knew dinner service had to be finished before you could address the line of your relationship that had been crossed. With a half-defeated sigh, Carmen nodded his head, copying the gesture, and continued to call out tickets - this time noticeably calmer.

oOoOo

A few hours later and the kitchen was just about empty. Most of the other chefs had rushed to clean their stations and leave the moment the last order went out. No one wanted to stew in the tension any longer. Though, Tina did offer you a half smile and a comforting touch on her way out.

When it was just you and Carmen left, you kept your head down, scrubbing away at your already cleaned surface. You could hear his footsteps echo until he stood only a few feet away, but you knew he needed to be the one to initiate this conversation.

"Look, y/n, I shouldn't have done that tonight."

"Done what?" you pushed, but Carmy only shook his head, confused and grasping for a response. "You shouldn't have said those words to me, or you shouldn't have shouted at me like that when the rest of the kitchen was also a fucking mess?"

"Oh, um, both." he stuttered out, clearing his throat. Then after a few moments. "I'm sorry, I really am. I just get so caught up in it all, and I know that's not an excuse. I'm going to do better." he promised, fighting back to tears that began to mist over his eyes.

His words washed over you, and you let out a huge sigh. This wasn't the first blowout you'd had with Carmen, and you knew how difficult it could be for him to allow himself to be vulnerable.

"Look, what you said, really hurt, Carmy, but I know you didn't mean them." you began, and Carmen had his own moment of relief when you used his nickname and held out your arms for him to step into. "The Bear is going to be a success, okay? All of us are going to get it there. But, in the meantime, let's find some ways to help us cool down. We're a team right?"

"Yeah, yeah we are." he mumbled against your skin, thankful to be so close to you once more, and willing to do what it took to keep it that way.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear imagine #rita writes

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donteattheappleshook · 1 month ago

Text

Not Broken at All Chapter 18/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Oh hey! What's up everyone?

I know it's been a while (shocking) but it's Solstice today and the muse decided something needed to be posted for this fic in honour of the fairy orgies XD

This was written super fast and not really re-read because it's already 10pm so I'll probably edit it later but I'm giving it to you all now.

Happy Solstice and I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3

********

Part 18

“Doesn’t look so bad,” Will shrugs when they stand outside the mouth of the cave the next morning. Emma and Wendy roll their eyes at the same time. It does look that bad. For a place called Echo Cave she’d had expected something bigger, something louder. But all she can see as they approach is a narrow tunnel in the rockface, no sound escaping from within. So she jumps when Tiger Lily’s voice suddenly comes from within.

“You’re late.”

“Apologies,” Killian nods. “The forest has changed a fair bit since I last made the journey - it took us longer than anticipated to find the path.”

“You have a habit of doing that,” Tiger Lily scoffs. “Misinterpreting time.”

The reply is so quick, and Killian’s sigh so exhausted, that Emma has to hold back a snort of laughter.

“We came as fast as we could.”

“Come then, let’s not delay any further. The others have gathered.”

“Who are the others?” Emma asks Hook quietly as they follow.

“The eldest of those who were here before Pan. They were barely more than children when it happened, but They have some memory of how things were.”

“I thought you said they’d forgotten all their magic.”

“We did not forget,” Tiger Lily snaps from the entrance. Emma watches as the faint, gold dusting of magic that covers their skin, the only light in the otherwise pitch black cave shimmers and slides over their arm, cascading like water down through their fingers that they trail along the rocky wall, leaving flecks of sparking, gold dust in their wake. “It was taken from us. Through slaughter and cruelty. When the children who were left behind grew enough to become a threat to Pan, we were forced to lock away what little we remembered or meet the same fate.”

Every time she thinks it can’t get worse, it does. The massacre of Tiger Lily’s people and the destruction of their history, the torture and killing of the Lorelei, the horror of the murder of those boys on the beach. There’s no end it seems to Pan’s cruelty, to his thirst for blood.

Emma reaches for the shimmering of light that remains along the wall, glittering and moving with the flow of the rough surface. It glows brighter beneath her touch and something swells from deep within her, rushing to meet it, warm and electrifying, before she yanks her hand back and stumbles the rest of the way though.

The walk is long, this cave buried deep in darkness and stardust. She’s not sure she even hears it at first, a small whisper of a voice from far away, the words too quiet to make out, but repeating. As they continue along and a dim light starts to appear in the distance, they grow louder. It’s a child’s voice, rolling against the walls of the cave - wish I’d never come here… just want to go home. Just want to go home. Just want to go home….

She feels Killian’s hand on the small of her back and realizes she’s stopped walking. “It’s alright, love. It’s just an echo. The last secret that was shared here.” She still hesitates, not wanting to get any closer to the haunting voice. “Whoever they were, they’re not here anymore.”

“His name was Ruffio,” Will says, nearly as quiet as the first echo. “He’s been gone a long time.” He only meets her eye for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing as though he hadn’t said anything. She can’t blame him. She knows by now that nobody in Neverland ever goes home. “Come on - we’ve got secrets to spill.”

The light ahead grows until finally they emerge into a massive cavern. The stone that surrounds them black onyx - gleaming faintly against the dust that covers the ceiling like a galaxy above them. The space feels boundless, endless like the darkness could go on forever and she’s reminded of their flight here, of the endless sea of stars they’d sailed in on.

There are four people standing in the center of the chamber on a platform of the same black onyx, all of them with the same sharp, androgynous features as Tiger Lily, all with the same loose-fitting clothes and cropped hair, and all with that same shimmer of living magic glowing faintly in the dark. Tink stands with them, waiting. None of them are any older in appearance than herself, but she knows better by now than to judge age or power by appearance on this island.

The Constant.��

They follow the rest of the way to the narrow, stone bridge that connects the ledge to the platform on which the others stand. When Emma takes a step to follow Tiger Lily onto the bridge, Killian puts an arm out, halting her in her tracks. Emma watches, heart in her throat as the bridge crumbles after Tiger Lily, stone falling away behind every step until they reach the end and there’s no bridge at all.

“The Constant keep no secrets,” Killian explains. “The cave can’t compel anything from them. We, on the other hand…”

“Of course they don’t.” No wonder they wanted to use this place. Easy to make others share their deepest darkest secrets when you’ve got none of your own to divulge and nothing to risk. “What about Tink?” she asks, nodding at the fifth person standing with the Constant.

“The fey have wings.”

Right. “So how does this work?”

“From what I remember, you step out onto the edge and call out your secret. If it’s truly your darkest, the cave will echo it back to you.”

“And then we get across?”

“Aye, easy as that,” Killian attempts a smile, but it comes out as a wince. “I’ll go,” he offers though he looks like he’s dreading this as much as she is. She’s just thankful she doesn’t have to start. He lets out another sigh, bracing himself and then, “I kissed Emma.”

Fuck. Her heart drops into her stomach. He’s been a pirate for two hundred years - How the hell can his darkest secret have anything to do with her?

Will smirks. “Kissed? Is that what they’re calling it these days? And I think you’re forgetting that we were all there when she jumped you at Solstice.” His smirk deepens. “And when Emma came back all wet.” If Emma could reach him she’d smack him.

“I literally walked in on you,” Wendy deadpans.

“I’m not talking about Solstice,” he sighs, not rising to the bait. “It was…” She knows when it was. We’ll keep each other safe, they’d promised. She doesn’t need everyone else to know though. Not when she’s not even sure what any of it meant or what it means now. “It doesn’t matter,” Killian shakes his head. “It was what the kiss - what all of it - exposed.” Fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. “My secret is… I never believed that I’d be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah.” He breathes her name like a prayer and a wound. “To believe that I could find someone else.” His eyes lift to hers and it’s only by sheer force of will that she’s able to stop herself from taking a step back, from running away from the way he’s looking at her. Because she needs to hear this. They all do. If she wants to get across this fucking bridge, if she wants to talk to the fucking Constant, if she wants to get her son back - she needs to hear this secret as much as he needs to tell it. “That is, until I met you.”

She doesn’t know what to say or if she’s supposed to say something, can’t bring herself to look at Wendy or Will or look away from his eyes still burning into hers. And then before she even can do anything, Killian’s voice echoes through the cave, ‘until I met you’ called back to them like a ghost. A rumble follows as a section of the fallen bridge rises back from the depths below them, rock by rock, rebuilding itself.

Killian lets out a humourless laugh. “So, who’d like to go next?”

“I will.” Wendy stands with her shoulders straight, like she’s ready for a fight rather than a confession. Emma gets a sinking feeling in her stomach from the way she’s making herself look at Killian, with shame and guilt. He doesn’t look surprised - he looks like he expected this to hurt. “Sometimes… Sometimes I wish you’d never found me. Sometimes I wish you had just kept on walking that day when Pan left me to die.” She winces. “I’ll always be grateful to you for saving my life, for taking me in but…”

Killian nods when she hesitates, her eyes damp with unshed tears. “Go on, it’s alright.”

“You trapped me here, Hook. You’re the reason I have to live in this neverending nightmare. Forever. You knew what that water would do to me and I know you couldn’t ask but… you didn’t give me a choice. And I think that if I had one now - if I could have had a say in the next hundred years of my life… I’d rather you’d just let me die because this -” she gestures at herself, at everything around them. “It’s worse than death. And because of you I’ll never leave.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “I can’t even die if I want to. Not unless Pan decides that’s what he wants. You forced this life on me, Killian, you cursed me to live because it made you feel better and I don’t… I’ll never forgive you for that.”

Tears stain her cheeks now, jaw tight as she refuses to let any more follow and Emma can see the heartbreak on Killian’s face. “Wendy…” but she shakes her head and he stops the step he’d taken towards her.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes and he shakes his head this time. Her secret echoes around them like a taunt this time - ‘never forgive you for that’ - and another piece of the bridge rebuilds itself. The silence hangs between them, louder than any echo, until Will steps up.

“I suppose I should go next - while we’re on the topic of never being forgiven.” He takes his own steadying breath. “I’m dying.”

Wendy’s face falls. “... what?” It comes out cracked and small and frightened. “What do you mean you’re dying?”

The look Will gives her - there’s so much guilt there, so much pain and self-loathing and love. Emma may not know much about it but she can recognize it now in his eyes, in the way he looks at Wendy. “I lied when I told you I didn’t know what Pan did to my heart. I’ve seen him do it before.”

“One hundred years…”

Will nods, a self-deprecating smile falling flat. “I really hoped that I could keep it from you for a little longer. Neverland will slow it down but… he squeezed a hundred years from my heart. I’ll start aging faster - a lot faster - and pretty soon…”

“How long?” He hesitates a beat longer than Emma can handle - and Wendy… gods, she can’t imagine. “How long?”

“I’ll be dead in a few months - three, maybe four depending on how long I would have lived if I’d aged like a normal person but - I’m so sorry, Wen. I didn’t want to tell you, I -”

Whatever he was going to say and whatever she might have answered is stolen by the cave calling back to them in Will’s voice, ‘dead in a few months’. Nobody looks as the bridge puts itself back together, all of them too focused on the cruel revelation. He did it for her, Emma realises, for all of them but… he’s dying because of her. Wendy’s losing him because of her. Even Killian looks solemn at the news.

“Your turn, Emma,” Will chokes out with the palest attempt at levity she’s seen him manage since she met him. “Wouldn’t want to be left out of all the fun, would you?”

She looks out towards the chasm between them and the Constant. She doesn’t even know what she expected to confess, or what she’d hear confessed by those with her, and now, with the truth of Will’s fate hanging in the air, nothing feels like it matters in the grand scheme of things.

What even is her deepest secret? That she gave up Henry? That she had her heart broken by a selfish man who used her and then left her? That she spent a year of her life in jail? That she’s spent her whole life searching for the parents who left her behind? That between Neal and her parents she doesn’t think she could ever trust someone again - could ever let herself love someone again, or let them love her… That she might be anyway? None of it feels like enough; none of it even feels like a secret anymore, not since Henry found her and brought her to Storybrooke.

And then, like bile and sick, she feels something being forced up from her throat, words clawing their way to the surface and past her lips of their own volition. She can’t stop them. She doesn’t even know what she’s going to say until they come spilling out.

“I wish Henry had never come to find me. I wish he’d never brought me to Storybrooke.” The confession leaves her gasping, tears in her eyes as though she had been sick. She wants to be, hearing such a horrible truth being spoken out loud. Killian looks at her with sympathy, but she turns away from it. And once it’s started, she can’t stop it. “I never wanted to be a mother. I gave him away because I knew he’d be better off without me - but also because I knew I’d be better off without him. He’s a beautiful, amazing kid and I love him more than anything… but I never asked for this. Every day since he showed up at my door I’ve been terrified - every minute of every day. Those few minutes in the Fae forest when I couldn’t remember him were the most peaceful I’ve felt in months and when it all came flooding back it just reminded me of how much simpler my life was before I had to be anything to anyone. I don’t want to lose him. But I never wanted to find him either.”

The bridge rebuilds itself, completing the path across as the worst thing she’s ever said, ‘never wanted to find him’, is echoed back to her cruelly. She feels drained, numb, and she wonders if the others are feeling this horrible emptiness too. She looks out at where the Constant wait. If this is their idea of having them prove their allegiance, they better be ready to give theirs in return.

“Come on, Swan,” Killian tells her, leading her across the bridge. None of them say a word, Will and Killian both casting glances at Wendy who won’t look up from her feet, and the silence follows them the whole way across.

“That sounded rough,” Tink comments when they reach the platform, the five Constant talking in harsh whispers in a language she doesn’t recognize.

“How lucky of you to have missed it then,” Will snips. He must be feeling worse than Emma realized.

There’s an argument starting, still in that foreign language, but she can tell just the same. Every few words there’s a glimpse of something that feels familiar, a syllable from another language she’s heard, a word that could be French or Spanish, a glimpse of English, not one language but many - like every language spoken at once.

“This meeting has been a topic of some controversy,” Killian whispers. “But I think Tiger Lily might be on our side.”

“You can understand them?”

He shrugs. “One picks up a few things after two centuries.”

There’s a small scoff from Tink. “Yeah, all that pillow talk was really educational.”

Killian ignores the quip. “They’re the keepers of the last of the forgotten history of the old Neverland.” He nods at each as he names them. “That’s Philodendron, Halcyon, Alder, Jacaranda, and you know Tiger Lily.

“Tiger Lily is one of them?”

“Tiger Lily was the oldest Constant to survive the massacre. They were just shy of a century when Pan took over.”

“A century?”

“The Constant are eternal, love. A century is nothing.”

The Constant have gone silent, a tense, begrudging conclusion to their argument that Emma can feel even if she doesn’t know the words.

Finally, Tiger Lily speaks. “Tinkerbell tells us you wish to unearth the secrets of the island - secrets that were buried to keep us safe.”

“Secrets that could return the island to the way it once was if you ally with us against Pan,” Killian counters.

“If our knowledge could have defeated the boy,” Alder interjects, “we would have done so a millenia ago when he first laid waste to this island.”

“Maybe your knowledge alone couldn’t defeat him, but we have the Lorelei on our side, and the fae,” Wendy adds, gesturing at Tink.

Alder scoffs. “You have one fairy. One who’s been without magic for almost five hundred years, who’s magic was corrupted by the very demon you seek to destroy. Our magic was born from the innocence and dreams of children, the purest light magic there is, and even it was snuffed out by Pan’s darkness. What chance have you with a weakened fairy and the duplicitous sirens?”

“We have more than that,” Tink interjects, bitterness and insult obvious in the bite of her words. “We have her.” It takes Emma a moment to realize that she’s the one being gestured at and now every set of eyes is on her.

“Me?”

“Her?” Wendy frowns.

“You can’t honestly tell me you haven’t noticed. She practically reeks of magic. It’s spilling out of every pore. I clocked it as soon as she got here.”

“I don’t have magic.” The Constant continue to stare, questioning, doubting. “I don’t. Don’t you think if I did I’d have used it by now to get Henry back?”

“Not if you weren’t aware of it, love,” Killian offers gently.

“Okay but I’m not some fairytale character; I’m from Boston - the land without magic. I don’t have any power.”

“Oh for…” Tink swears under her breath, crossing the room and grabbing Emma’s wrist. Faster than she can stop her, the fairy pulls a small blade from the complicated twist of pins and leather that keeps her mass of blonde hair piled on top of her head, ivory handle embellished with gold runes, and slashes it across Emma’s palm.

“Ow! What the hell!” Emma shouts, yanking her hand away. That fucking hurt. Tinkerbelle doesn’t resist, the rest of their small crew moving to intervene, but all at once, they freeze. Emma follows their gazes to her hand, clutched tightly in a fist to her chest and her breath catches. There’s light seeping through the cracks in her fingers, golden and swirling like smoke, shimmering like the magic that flows over the Constant’s skin.

Jacaranda reaches a hand out to her, palm upturned in a request and Emma looks to the others before carefully placing her hand in theirs. Carefully, the Constant unfurls her fingers, examining the light that shines from her wound with a careful touch. Their eyes go wide. “This is our magic,” they say, voice soft and tinged with awe. “Ours and… something else.”

“May I?” Philodendron asks, extending their own hand. Emma nods, even as the urge to refuse shouts at her. You don’t have magic. You’re not magic. You’re a goddamn bail bonds person from Boston, not a fairytale character. Philodendron looks at her after taking a moment to examine the wound themselves. “This is light magic,” they confirm. “It’s raw and untapped but powerful, more powerful than anything I’ve seen since before Pan’s time.” They twist her hand a bit, trying to look closer, to read something in whatever they see that Emma can’t. “But this isn’t born of belief and dreams as ours is, it's the product of something else… of -”

“True love,” Emma breathes out, so low she doesn’t mean for anyone to hear it. Henry had said that hadn’t he? That she was supposed to be the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, that she was supposed to be the Saviour.

“Yes, that’s it,” Philodendron nods slowly. “You were right, Tinkerbelle. This is more powerful magic than we anticipated.”

“Can you use it?” Emma asks, still not believing it really, but if it means they’ll help her get her kid back, she doesn’t care what she has to do.

“That depends,” Halcyon takes a step forward. “Can you wield it?”

“No, I…” she doesn’t even know how this is possible.

“I can.” They all turn to Tink, Emma cradling her hand to her chest once more. “If you tell me what we need to do, I can guide her. But you’ll have to let me.” The last bit is directed at her and she hesitates… Tink hasn’t exactly made a secret of the fact that she’s not a fan of hers, and she just slashed her damn hand open… Trust already isn’t her strong suit to begin with. “I’m not going to steal it,” Tink snaps and looks genuinely offended and Emma remembers that she knows what it is to have her power taken from her.

“I know you won’t. I just… what if it doesn’t work?” How powerful could this magic be? She’s not anything special, she never has been. Why would this be any different?

“Then I guess you don’t get your kid back.”

“Tink,” Killian warns but Emma can’t help but appreciate the fairy’s bluntness.

“What do we need to do?”

“This cavern, ” TigerLily starts, taking a knee and placing a hand reverently on the stone, “used to be a sacred place. It held all of the secrets of Neverland, and the dreams of children who visited - the purest and most honest of truths of all - fueled the island as it did our magic. This was its source - the source of everything.

“But then Pan tainted this cave with his twisted version of secrets as power, as something to be wielded, and forced us to sacrifice the last of the light magic that still breathed life into Neverland, the cavern shielded itself from his darkness. Now it echoes truths rather than accept ones taken maliciously. This place… has seen nothing but darkness for centuries. It has not been sleeping, but fighting, the last of the resistance against Pan right under his nose, keeping the darkness at bay and it has hardened. We need to remind it what the light looks like.”

“It can have mine. Whatever this is. If it can help and if this place can defeat Pan it can have all of it.”

Tiger Lily smiles kindly. “Not all of it. It would never snuff out your light. But even the slightest kindling can spark an inferno and with it you can breathe magic back into the island.”

“How?”

They nod to Tink who retrieves her knife again, slashing her own palm this time, the light that glows from her wound a shimmering green, and holds her hand out to Emma. Heat burns across her skin when she takes Tink’s offered hand, the light between them growing, shining and mixing. Tink places her other hand on Tiger Lily’s shoulder and the Constant flattens both their palms against the stone beneath them. After a moment, they look to Emma and she knows she’s doing it wrong. She’s not doing anything but she’s doing it wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

Tiger Lily shakes their head, their smile not malicious, but understanding.

“I have met so many lost boys and girls on this island. So many broken, hardened children lead here by fear and hurt and neglect, so afraid to trust, to love, to admit or even accept what they want, what they desire more than anything - what has been robbed of them. This place is born of dreams and truths and you, dear Swan, strong Swan, brave Swan… frightened Swan, have locked yourself away from both.”

“But I already told this place my darkest secret.” But she doesn’t need Tiger Lily to tell her - this place echoes darkness, resists darkness. That secret was Pan’s magic - not Neverland’s.

“What do you dream of, Emma? What truths do you keep from yourself?” Emma opens her mouth to speak but Tiger Lily holds up a hand. “Do not tell them to me. Tell them to the lost girl. Unburden her.”

What does she dream of? Things she can’t have, things she’s never had, things that were taken away. She wants to find her parents, that’s no secret though, she’s always known that. She wants them to have never given her up in the first place. She wanted a family, the one she could have had with Henry and Neal if he hadn’t turned out to be the vile person he was, the life that she’d had just a glimpse of after one missed period, before everything went to shit. She doesn’t want that anymore. She hasn’t let herself want any of it since then, not love, not family, not hope…

Her skin begins to warm, something flaring beneath the surface. Liar. She doesn’t know if it’s the cave or herself or her magic but it echoes through her like her secret against the walls. Tiger Lily accused her of locking herself away from her dreams, from her truths, but can they even still be truths if they’ve been silenced and stomped down for decades?

She thinks of the lost girl she was, abandoned, a runaway on the street, burning the last of her childhood, of stupid fairytales and stories to keep warm in a world that was only ever cold. What had that girl wanted? Powerless, lost, alone. That girl who felt like nothing, who meant nothing to anyone, who had never mattered and never would, who had only herself to take care of her. She wanted to matter - to someone, to herself, she wanted people to matter to her, to be able to let them. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. Even as she pushed away every foster parent, every friend, every lover as she grew older, she didn’t want - she doesn’t want - to have to do it alone.

That’s what she dreams of, what she refuses to admit that she dreams of. That for all of her rightly earned distrust of everyone, for all of her caution and her fear of abandonment, of love and hope, she wants to be able to let them in, let them matter. She wants to believe that she could have that happily ever after that she’s scorned all her life.

Images flash in her mind as the heat builds, her body tingling, a faint glimmer of light shining against her shut eyelids. Henry smiling in her doorway in Boston, Mary Margaret offering her a home, Killian bringing her to Neverland, Wendy helping her hide from Pan, Will sacrificing himself for her, Killian nearly sacrificing Milah’s name - sacrificing his memories, all of them banding together to help her save her kid, even Tink now, helping her to wield magic she doesn’t understand.

She’s not alone. She’s not in this alone. For the first time in her life she has people she can count on. People she can trust. She thinks of the smile Henry gave her when she let him know she wasn’t going to leave Storybrooke even though she could, of Mary Margaret’s pep talks, of shared hot chocolate and drinks and advice in their apartment, of Killian in that dank brig after one of the worst hours of her life - perhaps I would - of his words whispered in the quiet darkness of his cabin - I’m here. You don’t have to ask - of his confession echoing around them - until I met you. She does matter to people. She’s not nothing. She was never nothing. She matters and she has people who matter to her.

Her whole body alights, the blood in her veins not blood anymore but something else, something powerful and she can feel it surging beneath her skin, pulled by a force as it rushes through her and towards that opening in her palm. The white of her light overtakes the green and Tink’s body jerks like the surge of magic is as jarring to her as it is for Emma. Tiger Lily gasps, the ground beneath them starting to glow, tendrils of golden light snaking towards them across the stone like rivulets. Their body starts to shimmer, the dusting of gold shining brighter until their skin is swallowed by it completely.

Emma can feel sweat beading on her skin, the salt mixing with the tears she hadn’t realized she’d been crying. She doesn’t know how much longer she can keep this up, the power coursing through her overwhelming. Tink’s hand is shaking in hers, both their palms damp and slippery and white knuckled and she can’t imagine how much more effort the fairy is putting in as the one actually channeling all of this.

“There’s so much,” Tiger Lily says in awe. “We’ve forgotten so much.” Their eyes are glowing with the same gold that covers their skin, their mouth pulling into a smile even as tears roll down their cheeks.

“I can’t -” Tink starts, but doesn’t let Emma release her hand when she tries to stop.

There’s another moment, the light engulfing the Constant almost completely, so bright Emma has to look away, before finally, suddenly, it stops. The three of them slump against the ground with a gasp of exhaustion. Emma doesn’t even turn when she feels hands on her shoulders, helping her to sit up, she knows it’s him. Wendy is at Tink’s side helping to support her as well as the Constant circle around Tiger Lily, all of them holding one another in a moment that feels beautiful and private as joy and heartbreak play over their faces.

“Can you. Stop him?” Tink pants out.

“I… I think so. There’s just - there’s so much. I need time to sort through it all.”

“We don’t. Have. Time.”

“All of the secrets of Neverland, millennia’s worth, have just been poured into my mind. It will take me more than a few minutes to understand it all and find what will help us.”

“How much time?” Emma asks. Henry’s already been here too long - too long without knowing that she’s here, that she’s coming for him.

“I don’t… give me a few nights at least. Come back in three days. That should give me time to make sense of what is needed at least.” Their eyes are far away, like they’re not seeing the cavern around them but something far bigger and far more extraordinary.

Emma nods. “Three days?”

“Three days. And then we’ll rid this island of its false king forever.”

***********

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