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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

No Worse Company

gif credit: @holylulusworld

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 2385

The Deal S2 E2: Series Masterlist

Summary: The reader copes with her return while Jody tries to get a hold of the boys. Cas deals with what Lucifer did while possessing him.

Notes: Here’s the next part in Chapter Two of the Deal Anthology! I hope you guys enjoy it. This one feels a little like a filler, but I’m really excited for the next part.

He couldn’t stop looking. After everything that happened- all of the pain and the anguish, all of it his fault- he couldn’t stop looking. He had to find Lucifer and he had to put him back in hell. He owed you that.

Driving down the road in his stolen truck, Cas’ eyes fell on the passenger seat. He frowned. That drive to St. Louis didn’t seem so long ago anymore. Sam and Dean’s cries as they watched the hellhound tear you apart were still fresh in his mind. He had turned away. At the time, he thought it's what you would have wanted. For him to have his final memory of you be one of your smiling face, content with the family you had found. Now he felt like he had turned his back on you. Now he was cursed to see your screaming face forever.

He had to find Lucifer.

Cas glanced down at his cellphone and sighed. Multiple missed calls and unopened messages from Dean filled his screen. He couldn’t face them. Not until he found the Devil.

One Week Ago

The police officer that found you had found some clothes that were two sizes too big but you took them gratefully nonetheless. You were sitting at her desk, staring blankly at a photo beside her computer. Her big happy family smiled over a picnic table on a beautiful sunny day. You wanted to put your fist through it.

“Alright sweetheart, I’ve got someone on their way to pick you up.” The officer gave you a small smile.

“Did you find Dean?”

“Not exactly.” She pulled up a seat across from you. “It’s a good thing I was the one that found you. I don’t know much about those Winchesters, but I know that if any other cop in this joint put them through the system, they’d probably take you in for questioning. Fortunately for you, I have a friend up North that told me to give her a call if I ever heard the names Sam or Dean Winchester.”

“Look, I appreciate your help, but I can’t stay here.” You stood up, but she blocked your path.

“Well you’re certainly not going out there on your own.” Her expression was caring, but stern. “I don’t know what happened to you, honey, but I know that going out alone will only make things worse for you.”

“Believe me, I can handle myself.” Nothing in this woman’s imagination could even remotely describe everything that had happened to you. Still, the officer stood her ground.

“Right now you’ve got two choices. You can either stay here and one of the other officers will take you to a hospital, or you can come with me and we can meet Jody half-way.”

“Wait… Jody?” Your face softened, the idea of seeing a familiar face warming your cool exterior.

“Yeah, Sheriff Jody Mills up in Sioux Falls.” She put her hands on her hips. “Do you know her?”

Jody, even though she wasn’t much older, was like a mother to you. She helped you and boys out when you needed and had saved your life on more than one occasion. You pictured being enveloped in one of her hugs and a small smile crept onto your face.

“I used to.”

“Then let's get moving. We can get you something to eat on the way there.” The officer grabbed her keys and started towards the parking lot. As you followed her, something caught your eye. Your face reflected back at you in the glass of the window and a moment of panic nearly took you off your feet. Your eyes were black.

Now

You could tell that Jody had been walking on eggshells for the past week. After everything that was going on, you couldn’t really blame her. When she saw you the first time, she tried to kill you, thinking you were a shapeshifter or some other kind of monster. When she realized that it was really you, she was speechless for the entire ride back to Sioux Falls.

Jody had been trying to get a hold of Dean for the past couple of days, but to no avail. The longer you waited, the more and more you debated running away in the middle of the night. Could you face him? Jody said that you’d been ‘dead’ for three years. A lot had changed. You knew that you were his Y/N anymore. Maybe he wasn’t your Dean.

“Coffee?” Jody offered, holding a mug in front of you.

“Thanks.” You took the warm ceramic mug and held it between your palms. The heat spread across your skin as the smell wafted up to your nose. Who knew a cup of coffee could hold so many memories. Sitting across from Dean in the kitchen of the bunker or looking over a case with Sam in the middle of the night with only caffeine to keep you going.

“I might be a little later at the station today. Do you think you’ll be okay here?”

“I think I can handle a few more hours of daytime television and boxed mac and cheese, Jody.” You smirked. She shook her head with a light chuckle.

“I have to say, I missed that snark of yours.” She finished her own coffee before putting on her coat. “Now you call if you need anything, okay? I’m going to try and get a hold of the boys again.”

“Jody…” You started, but looking at her hopeful face, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Of course she would think that reuniting everybody would solve everything. She didn’t know what was lurking under your skin. You put on a smile. “Have a great day.” She put a hand on top of yours.

“You too, sweetie.”

She glanced back at you with a flash of concern before the front door closed behind her.

“I thought she’d never leave.” The voice made you jump out of your seat, the coffee mug sent shattering on the floor. A woman walked in from the hallway with a smug smile on her face. You lunged across the table, reaching for a knife from the counter. She grabbed your arm and pinned it to the table. With a single blink, her eyes turned jet black. “Boo.”

“Lavina.” You gasped, trying to yank your arm away.

“Aw, you missed me.” She laughed, raking her nails across the back of your hand just deep enough to break the skin. “So how’s my little protégé doing back up top?”

“How are you here?” She let you go and you examined the scratches.

“What? You think the security in Hell is really the top priority right now?” She wandered around the kitchen, picking up the knife you had been reaching for and twisted it back and forth in the light. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to kill you. That’d be too easy.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I’m just checking in to see how you’re holding up.” Lavina flipped on the radio and laughed at the tune. It was just the last few seconds, but it still sent a chill up your spine.

“You know that you’re the only one to say okay. But you’re motorin’ yeah motorin’.”

“I remember this one.” Lavina smirked. “Didn’t this used to be you and dreamboat Dean’s song?”

“Shut up.”

“What? Aren’t you excited to see your sweetie-pie Winchester again?” She read the fear behind your glowering eyes and chuckled. “Or maybe you don’t want to see him. Maybe you know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about you black-eyed bitch.”

“Maybe you know that whatever soul you’ve got walking around in that meat suit isn’t all you anymore.” The song on the radio ended and you recognized the next song as Bad Company. “Man, this station is on fire this morning! There’s no worse company than yourself when you’ve become what you have.”

You tried to block out her words, but you knew that she was right. So you turned away so she wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing your fear. Your fists clenched at your sides.

“Get out.”

“Sooner or later, you’ll be begging to come back to me. Begging to finally tear all of those souls apart. Begging to embrace what you really are. Let’s just hope you realize it before your precious Dean gets hurt.”

Bad, bad company til the day I die

With an angered scream, you grabbed a plate and hurled at Lavina’s head. She caught it and held it out in front of her. Clicking her tongue, she let it fall to the floor. The sound of the ceramic shattering made you jump.

“Don’t worry. You’ll know how to find me.” The pieces cracked under her boots as she walked across the kitchen and vanished down the hall.

You were shaking- from rage or from terror, you didn’t know. The image of your reflection back at the police station had been haunting your thoughts ever since. You had yet to look into another mirror out of fear of what you’d see. Lavina was right. Whatever Amara had brought back, it wasn’t you.

Sam was surprised when Jody told him to meet her at the station rather than at her house. Maybe Dean was right. Something just felt off about this whole thing. Dean’s whole body was tense, his eyes scanning every part of the room, expecting to see a monster ready to pounce.

“There you boys are.” Jody let out an exasperated sigh and pulled both Winchesters into a hug. Both could tell how freaked she was. Sam pushed back and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Jody, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. There’s just… there’s a different problem back at my house.”

“Is something wrong with Alex? Or Claire?”

“No, no. It isn’t them. Alex has been taking a nursing course in Rapid for the past two weeks and god knows where Claire is.” She ushered them into her office and closed the door. “No, this is… weirder. It’d be best for you guys to just see for yourselves, but I wanted to prep you first.”

“Prep us for what?” Dean asked, that deep feeling in his gut returning. Jody looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“For what you’re going to see.”

“Jody, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t explain it. I don’t know what happened. One minute I’m dealing with a couple of pot-smoking kids and the next I’m getting a call from a friend of mine saying that…” She took a deep breath to keep from rambling. “Like I said, it’s better for you to just go and see her yourselves.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean’s forehead creased with confusion.

“Her?”

Cas stood alone, looking out on the vast lake before him. His search was getting him nowhere and nothing was helping with the visions. Everywhere he looked, he saw hands slick with your blood. Every car horn or singing bird was replaced by your screams. He was supposed to be your friend. Lucifer used that against him.

“Cas, please I know you’re in there somewhere.” You cried, just earning another punch to the gut.

“I’ve got to admit, you’re holding up a lot better than Dean ever did down here. Only took him 30 years to give in. It’s been, what, 300 for you?” He blew out a low whistle. “For a while, I liked having Crowley as my chew toy, but when I found out you were down here, man I just couldn’t resist.” He laughed as he ran his finger down your bloody arm.

“Cas…” You pleaded, screaming when he drew a blade down your face, just missing your eye. Blood dripped from your temple, making it hard to see You were used to pain by now, but this was different. This was looking at the face of your friend and seeing only malice.

“Lavina told you about good old Dean getting ganked by Metatron, right?” Cas’ gave you a fake pout. No, not Cas. Lucifer. “I mean, come on. Metatron? Of all the angels in heaven that’s the one that quote-unquote ‘Michael’s Sword’ bites the bullet for?” He laughed picking something up from the table. “I guess that’s not really the right expression, right? His death went a little more like this.”

He shoved the angel blade deep into your chest and your mouth fell open, but no scream came out. He grabbed you by the hair and lifted you up so his lips were by your ear.

“All of this- the suffering and the torture- was for nothing. You saved Dean only for him to die a few months later. You’re death meant nothing. You mean nothing.” When he let you go, you fell to the floor, held up only by the chains on your wrist. Your blank eyes stared back up at him. Not that it mattered. You’d be awake soon enough for him to start over.

When they got to Jody’s house, Dean had one hand on his pistol and the other clenched at his side. Sam stood up a little too straight, clearly on edge from whatever lay beyond that door. Jody turned the key and the three went inside. When Jody got to the kitchen, however, her face fell.

“Damnit.” She muttered, pulling out her own weapon. The boys joined her, looking down at the shattered plate on the floor. Sam and Dean went to search other rooms in the house while she cautiously opened the back door and peaked out into the yard. With a sigh, she holstered her gun. “Out here, boys!”

Sam was first, but he froze on the spot. He just stared, eyes wide and heart pounding. Dean had to push past him to get out the door. When he did, that feeling in his gut made him sick to his stomach. The last time he saw that face, it was being torn apart.

You dropped the whiskey bottle into the grass and felt tears welling up in your eyes. He was finally here.

“Dean…” You gasped, wanting to reach for him, but you couldn’t move. You were frozen under his glaring eyes. It wasn’t until his pistol was aimed at your head that you snapped out of it.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone; @crist1216

The Deal Series: @writeroutoftime; @ minninugget; @mia-ono; @erule; @ dannyo000

#dean winchester x reader #the deal #bad company #sam winchester #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #jody mills #supernatural #castiel #lucifer #dean winchester #the winchesters #demons #hell #the deal anthology

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anotherbeingsworld · 4 years ago

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Reminscing Hours

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Book: Open Heart

Warning: none, just.. bittersweet fluff. Minor mentions of death.

A/N: I AM BACKKKKK, and with finals is over. I am finally writing once more, I have loads of plans and I am excited. I am so sorry if updates is very slow, I been in up and down lately but... I mange to finish this piece. It is dedicated to a close friend of mine, who had lose someone close to her. @jaxsmutsuo , I hope you loved it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It’s a bittersweet tale, as some of these... just its hard to write. I didn’t cry but, its just.. hit hard in a way. This fic, mostly revolves around Casey but, Bryce plays a part into it too. I hope all of you enjoyed it as much as I do. <3

Tags: Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices @jaxsmutsuo , @mvalentine , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @this-person-is-busy , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @choices-confessions ,@fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom @starrystarrytrouble, @kelseaaa , @rookie-ramsey , @bratzlahela , @choicesficwriterscreations , @soft-for-drake , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @arcticlumineer , @choicesstan1 , @aveeiro , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics

MY MASTERLIST

It was a rare occasion for the Lahela family to take a leave, as both of them are doctors which shows the harsh reality of full schedules either, it begins on midnight or 12 p.m. The family will always be absent in the house. But, everything changes after Louis was born. After that, Alexis and Kailani came to grace into their lives bringing a joy that no one would compare. It was a compromise, but they manage to still continue medicine despite everything. And, today was a different day. Casey decides to finally introduce a huge part of her childhood to the kids.

It was a beautiful Friday morning, as they begin their journey. The trip consists of a few snacks and gas stops, followed by a tradition that Casey and Bryce created which includes a small picnic along the roads of Boston. The Lahela children were enthusiastic on the family trip despite it clashes with their school timetables except for Alexis who is much pleased on skipping a day of school, which hints a bit of Bryce rebellious phase that had maybe inherit inside of her.

‘Let’s get the party started!’ An enthusiastic Bryce shouted in the car, as Casey laughs in delight at her husband’s actions. The kids were jumping along the enthusiasm, as they hit the road. After a few hours, they arrived at the destination. It was a breath of fresh air as it is home.

--------------------------

As the modern architecture was in view, she felt a small lump in her throat. It happens every time she came to visit. It was that wave of nostalgia that is begging for her to be hit. The view in front of her, was different than what she remembers a decade ago, maybe two decades ago.

It was wooden before, as it was modernized once more. Every part of the area was scanned as a memory appear, reminding her how life used to be. Happiness, screams that followed in between and the nastiness of junk food can be seen throughout the area.

She was greeted with a familiar face, her grandmother. Alice Valentine, who has been crushed into a hug by the kids. Bryce steps forward and pulled her into a hug too, as the scent of chocolate chip cookies can be smell from afar making the kids jumping in joy.

‘Who wants the best chocolate chip cookies??’ Grandma Alice says in joy, as the three of them yelled simultaneously with huge grins that made the parents smile too.

After the commotion was over, Bryce noticed the stiffen atmosphere around Casey. She has been seen zoning out as they arrived, and he knows that particular look. The look where she is almost on the edge. Bryce took her hand in his, and said.

‘Hey, it’s gonna be alright okay?’

Casey wipes the tears that had managed to accidentally fall, and nods giving his hand a squeeze. The parents started to unload the stuff, as they started the short getaway together.

The day went well, as Alice and Casey teaches the whole family on how to make chocolate chip cookies from scratch. It ended up with a huge success, as the cookies came out perfectly even from Bryce which earns a surprise look from Casey. Afterwards, they ended up walking together around the small town, for dinner supplies which is a tradition in Casey’s family.

The house was quiet, as Casey and Bryce put the kids to bed. They decided to hang out and enjoyed each other’s company that night where they bumped into Alice, Casey’s grandmother who is fetching her night medication.

‘Casey honey, Bryce. Come, let’s chat. I have been busy with the kids and haven’t gotten the chance to check in with the both of you.’ She gestures on the couch as the couple made their way over there.

As they all were seated, Grandma Alice scoots forward and took their hands into hers giving it a squeeze.

‘How are you both? How is the family doing and everything?’

Casey smiles at the question, as she let both of their hands go.

‘We are doing great, the hospital been quite busy and with the kids too…’

‘It can be a lot, but we enjoyed a challenge!’ Bryce continues her sentences as he place an arm around her.

‘How are you Gran? I am so sorry we haven’t came sooner, our schedules were packed and I literally begged mom to watch the house for us to leave..’ Her reply earned a small laughter from the elder.

‘I have been okay, did some groceries, water the plants and the usuals! When your mom called me about your upcoming visit, I was ecstatic! I missed the kids, and playing with them once more add ten years of my lifespan.’ She said, as her gaze dropped onto the small whispers in the other room where the kids were found whispering among themselves, a smile tugged on their faces.

‘I missed your cooking gran, especially the homemade stew and the cookies, nobody could make em like you did.’ Bryce compliments earning an eye-roll from Casey as Alice laugh in delight.

‘Well, I can packed some for you to bring back home yes?’

Bryce nods enthusiastically earning a shoulder punch from Casey, who smiles at his frown. Alice looked at them and smile, somehow reminiscing an old memory.

‘Grand, you okay?’ Casey scoots forward, and held her hand somehow warm in her touch.

Her eyes were closed, as a smile appears on the corner of her mouth. In a split second, she opened it once more, somehow teary and the happiness were still visible on her face.

‘I am okay, seeing the both of you; reminds me of your grandfather. Fun and bright just like your husband there, and somehow, seeing both of you here. Reminds me of our fondest memories…’ She stood up and came back a few moments later with a medium sized box in her arms. Both of them stood up, and held her, as Bryce took the box from her hands.

They all sat down once more, as curiosity fills their mind especially Casey’s at the sight of the box.

‘What is this grand?’ She gestures onto the box, as Bryce scoots forward aswell.

Alice smiles, as she unlocks it. It was filled with pictures, trinkets, a few visible letters and a plated straw hat that Alice immediately holds in her hands. She traces the lines and texture of the hat, somehow visible tears could be seen.

‘This was his, he would wore it everytime we go out. I thought it was an embarrassing gesture as he would walk on this world with that beautiful smile of his…’ She passed the hat to Casey. She took it and held it, somehow felt like it was a treasure.

‘This was his favorite, I remembered when he would take me on his bike rides. He would wear it with his beach shirts and we would eat at the crack of dawn…’ The tears starts to flow in her eyes, as Bryce scoots on to rub her shoulders.

‘Y’know Bryce, if he was still here… he would loved you. I think he already has.’ Alice said with a smile on her face, as she took out some of the trinkets from the box, bringing back all kind of memories for both Casey and Alice.

‘Based on the stories Casey told me about him, I think the feeling is going to be mutual Mr.s Valentine.’ Bryce smiles as he takes a look at the pictures, and stop at one in particular which is a pic of baby Casey in her grandfather’s arms.

‘You look very cute Cas.’ Bryce presented the photo to her, and a smile appeared on her face despite the tears that kept on flowing.

‘I am a cute baby after all, right grand?’ Alice laughs at the statement, before answering.

‘Between you and Dan, I think both of you are equal. I love my grandkids too much to pick in between them.’ Alice replies, earning a stifled of laughter from Bryce, as Casey pouts from the answer.

They sat there looking at old memories for a while, until the clock finally strucks at midnight earning a look of surprise from the three of them.

‘I can’t believe its already midnight..’ Casey states in disbelief, as she held onto some more memories.

‘Your grandfather would still be awake at this time, screaming and yelling at the television over soccer. Ah, good times.’ Alice states one more, as they started to tidy up the mess.

After a few minutes, they were done. Before she had a chance to stood up, Alice passes her a brown envelope with cursive writing onto it.

‘This is…a letter from your grandfather years ago. We did do the same for your mom too, why not for our favorite grandchild too? We gave Dan, his letter already. But, we kept yours as he wanted to give it to you after you graduated med-school. We planned to surprise you during your first day of residency; but… his life was cut short. But, now… it seems to be a good time for you to have it.’ She gestures at the envelope, as Casey pulls her into a hug.

Bryce stood there smiling upon the scene, before he was pulled too into the hug by Alice herself. The three of them hugged for a while, and let go as the both Casey and Alice’s eyes were watery from all the emotional turmoil of the day. It was a tiring end for a day, but it was worth it.

---------------------------

The walls were cream, as the 5th paper was crumpled once more followed by a groan by a young man who is in his 30s.

‘James, that’s the 5th paper today. What’s wrong?’ Alice asked, as she made her way to the study area of her husband.

‘I wanted to write something good for Casey, dear. I already wrote for Dan, and everytime I start… it seems to get worst.’ He rubs his temple as Alice massages his shoulders slowly as a hint for some rest.

‘You are a story teller dear, just write anything you can think of. It will make sense on paper, I promise.’ She gives him a kiss on the cheek before moving onto the daily tasks leaving him with his thoughts.

A smile appear on his face, as he starts scribbling through the day. It ended with a satisfied look on his face, as he reread it once more; a small practice for him to read it to her dear granddaughter one day.

-------------------------

Casey was awake at 3 a.m. as she couldn’t sleep, somehow the thought of the letter kept her awake. She decides to give in, and took the letter in her hands. She made her way to the balcony of their bedroom, and took a seat on the wooden floors. Western Red Cedar, a small callback to her childhood.

The wind was blowing, as she shivers in the night. She took a deep breath, before tearing the small envelope with delicate movements. Her hands is shaking at the moment, fear overcoming her as the words were written somewhat visible to her vision.

A deep breath was taken once more, before she starts reading it. A vision of himself rereading it can be seen through her subconscious.

My dearest Casey,

I remember the day, your parents told us about your arrival. We were over the moon; we were excited to meet another grandchild of ours and I was surprised that we were announced of a baby girl. Your mother was our lucky shot for a girl, as all of our children were boys. I was ecstatic, and I remember calling your mother every day; asking everything about you. Before you were born, we knew you were going to be an amazing human being, a beautiful daughter indeed.

There was a story I wrote before, about a pair of siblings on an adventure. It somehow reminded me of you and our Daniel. We had watched you both grown into your phases and, I am very lucky to watch you grow from your first step to your first full meal. One day, I would love to show you more of my stories. All the worlds I created in, as you would live in this world with all the joy and happiness.

We never know what the future will hold, but I promise. I am there with you, when you are happy, scared, lonely, sad and even during your lowest point. Life as a story-teller teaches me, somehow the stories we wrote are a reflection of who we are, and when I looked into those emerald eyes of yours. I saw a million of stories in one that is waiting to be written in the future. I am excited to watch you grow into the amazing woman you were meant to be.

Lots of love,

Grandpa James Valentine.

She felt herself tear up as she reached towards the end, as she traces the words on the letter. It felt like it was written a lifetime ago, as it brings back the memories from the past before. She folded the letter, as she found the familiar hat in her position once more. A pair of arms were felt hugged around her, as Bryce held onto her. The Lahela’s stood there into the night, as Casey continues to reminiscing the old times with the love of her life.

There was a time, she wonders how the world will look like, how life would turn up if any of these didn’t happened. She wonders what types of conversations she would have with her late grandfather, as they took a sip of cocoa during winter nights, but… she is grateful for the time and memories she had with him. She knows, she will see him again one day in another life.

THE END.

#playchoices #bryce x mc #bryce x f!mc #bryce lahela #casey valentine #open heart #anotherbeingsworldwrites #fics #tw: death #fluff #open heart second year

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whatatime30 · 6 years ago

Text

Children, bikes, cars sliding.

Heidi Writes Stories

This is short story I wrote. It’s about this kid who gets in a car accident and meets this guy named Jack. They become friends, and from there, it’s history.

The thing about Him was that… well, He was smart. He wasn’t like the nerdy kind of smart. He wasn’t even the rocket scientist kind of smart. He had their education, sure, but He had something else, a different point of view. He saw things simply. Everything was black and white.

He understood what we weren’t made to understand. He breathed with air that we couldn’t reach. He was above us. He knew that. He had all the power, but He couldn’t handle it. All He could do... was laugh.

He laughed to cover up the pain and the heartbreak. He thought that laughing could help Him ignore it all. How it all made no sense. How He had no purpose. How none of us had a purpose. It didn’t work.

***

“A-one… a-two… a-three,” the man shrieked with joy. “Out you come.” The voice had turned serious in seconds. A small figure crawled out of the damp, dirty box. The gray pools of his eyes were piercing. It wasn’t one that hurt though. They were kind, even sympathetic. A glove came in front of him. “It’s me. Jack.”

Trembling, the boy shook it.

“C’mon, Louis.” Louis’s hand was snatched up. It was cold and rough.

He struggled to keep up with the man’s stride. He wondered why he wasn’t screaming or yelling. The men with the bright lights that made Louis’s head hurt are still there.

“You’re,” Jack said, stringing out the syllable as he thought, never finishing.

Jack pushed Louis into a car passenger seat. He sighed as they traversed the busy streets of Roma in the small black car. “Now later red cat boat ship house girl?” Louis asked. He regretted speaking the moment after he asked. It was just that kidnappers were supposed to have white vans. That’s what his nanny always said anyway. And May was never wrong. Until she was, of course, but she’d said that before.

“A van? Why would I have a van?”

“Dog bike cat sat sit down under sleep jump.” The man giggled, tapping the steering wheel like the patters of a hooves. Louis had never heard a giggle originate in a grown man. This man didn’t seem so grown though.

“It’s your Uncle Jack. Don’t you remember me? We’re friends.” That was a doubtful statement. Louis didn’t have any friends. He had twelve in preschool, but then he was pulled out. Maybe having a friend would be nice.

“Jack.”

The man smiled wildly.

Louis gazed out the window. They were going so fast. Most things were a smooth blur. He wondered where they were going. Surely the man had a house or condo. Maybe it would be warmer than the box. He’d only gotten in there to stow away from the lights so that his head would stop hurting.

It was an hour before they got anywhere. Louis inspected the small house of nothing. It was a simple brick similar to the ones surrounding it. The number read 1940. He was still staring when Jack snatched him out.

“I got a present,” the man explained, unlocking the front door and entering the house.

Louis decided against asking what.

The man buzzed around the room as he searched for something. It was quite clean. A bit too clean for Louis’s tastes. “Aha!” he yelled as he took Louis over to the kitchen. He picked the boy up and sat him on the countertop.

He ripped Louis’s shirt off before the boy could struggle. Louis whimpered. He was shushed by the man. “You watch TV?” Jack queried. Louis nodded. “Like Arthur and crap like that?” Louis was pretty sure that was a bad word. He wasn’t supposed to use those. “Yeah, I watch sometimes too. I like Binky the best, don’t you?”

“Buster!” He exclaimed.

“Is he? Why do you think that?”

“Wall speaks windy hot mess.” A cold wetness appeared on Louis’s middle. He frowned. “Ca--”

“You ever heard of Clifford?” Louis nodded. “He’s a bird, right?” He smiled at the man’s silliness while shaking his head. “Are you sure?” Louis thought for a minute.

“Obey space cat deli lanny swear admit strange bit dressing. Picture cake chocolate rail umi solar here fuse dog. On li--” Louis gasped when the needle entered him. He hadn’t even seen it. A deluge of salty sadness rained down. He was shushed some more as the man made the small box beep and clipped it to his pants. His shirt went back on. Louis continued to cry, his arms wrapping around the man’s neck.

Jack picked him up. “Don’t cry, buddy. It’s just to keep you safe.” He let out a shuddery sniffle. “I got another present for you.” Louis panicked and began squirming. Jack’s grip tightened. “It’s a nice one. Promise.” By the time they found themselves in a blue room behind a bookshelf, Louis was down to sniffles. He saw a bed with a tabled lamp next to it along with furry dinosaur rug rested under Jack’s feet. A blue chair was in the corner next to a Louis-sized table. Louis blinked slowly.

He was laid in the bed gently. Louis felt weird. He didn’t like it. The covers went up nonetheless. “Jack.” Louis wondered the man laughed at the comment. A Red Hood stuffie was placed next to him.

“Hoodie’ll keep you company.” He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. “Go to sleep.” Louis didn’t know why, but he obeyed.

***

“Jack, who is this?” A woman with platinum blond hair and sharp blue eyes observed Louis from afar. He sat against the bottom of the sofa with his Red Hood doll and the TV blaring. He could only see her a little bit since he couldn’t keep his eyes all the way open for long. A yawn forced its way out. He left it unstifled.

“Louie,” the man explained before kissing her on the cheek.

“Louie’s--” He cut her off, dragging Hattie towards Louis.

“Louie, see? It’s Aunt Hattie.” She smiled and waved. It didn’t seem like a happy smile though. It was like the chair by the table in the room. “Say hi.” He merely stared at her. Jack brought her down to sit on the sofa with him. They whispered not so quietly.

“He looks drugged.”

“He’s fine.”

“He can barely hold his eyes open. You had to lean him against the sofa.”

“Keeps Louie calm.”

“What? Jack I tho--”

“He’s right here.” She sighed heavily. Then they said words that Louis couldn’t hear. Her eyes dropped. He remembered seeing eyes like that. Eyes like that came from--

“Baby, c’mere.” Louis’s head lolled to the side. Jack swept him up into Hattie’s lap. She was different from Jack, warm. Her fingernails were painted a classic red. She pulled his shirt up, pressing buttons on his present that keeps him safe and doesn’t hurt all that much once it’s in. “Jack, get me a soda, will you?”

The man exited.

“You’re a pretty boy,” she sighed, brushing the bangs out of his eyes. May’d said he was due for a haircut. “Curly brown hair, chocolate eyes… just like Louie.” She half-chortled. “We’re gonna get you back home.”

His eyes dropped closed as Jack came back inside with a cup.

He took the boy from her. “Louie, lemme see those peepers.”

Louis groaned quietly, disliking the pinching of his cheeks. He was no child. He peeked at the man.

Jack giggled and grinned.

The cloud’s weight lessened enough for him to get a clear picture.

“Good boy.” Jack laid him across Hattie’s lap while Jack covered him with a blanket.

“Where'd you find him?”

“I was driving down 54th when there was an accident. Saw him crawl under a box in the alley when the police arrived. Lucky to find him.”

“Jack, you didn’t… tell me you didn’t cause it.”

“I was only out looking for him.”

“They took Louis away for a reason, Jack. His parents are probably looking for him. Let’s take it out and and go the police station, yeah? We can say we found him wandering. He’s only been here for two days.”

“Louie’s place is here.” Jack picked him up and laid him against his chest. It wasn’t cold like his hands. One of those went to his back. Then they said more words Louis still couldn’t understand. He assumed they were adult words. He didn’t know many of those even though May said he was a bright boy.

“Remember what Teresa said about real things and not so real things?”

“He’s real. He’s right here.”

“Not because he wants to be.”

“He came. Didn’t cry or scream or anything.”

“Jack, sweetie, we can’t keep him here.”

“He stays.” The man’s voice had turned scary now. She sighed. Her purse jingled. Louis could feel Jack moving.

“I’m gonna call Harvey to get this sorted out. Then we can call Theresa and make an appoi—” A deafening bang. He opened his eyes and saw poppies blooming out of her. Jack said a bad word before burying the boy’s face in his shoulder and going to Louis’s room behind the bookshelf. He pressed the buttons on the present that kept Louis safe and didn’t hurt so much once it was in. His Red Hood, who he decided to name Jason, was thrown in soon after before the door was closed and locked. He set sail soon after.

***

Louis didn’t know how long it’d been when Jack woke him up and carried him out of his room. He laid tiredly on the man’s shoulder. The sun peeks through the shaded blinds. Maybe he could go outside and play later? Maybe, if he wasn’t too tired, Jack would take him out.

The man set Louis down to walk the rest of the way to the kitchen. A bowl of hot cereal sat on the table next to a cup of apple juice. Louis more cared for cranberry, but he guessed it was okay.

He took a seat at the table on his knees.

Jack sat at the head with his fingers tied together. The boy began eating as soon as he received permission. Jack watched him quietly. He hummed the same song that he’d tapped in the steering wheel.

Louis wanted to learn it.

“Finish up,” Jack reminded. Louis took his last bite before pushing the bowl and his cup forward. The man chuckled before putting them in the sink.

Louis pointed to the blinded door. “Over the hills?”

“I don’t think so. Besides, you haven’t finished the book for me. We need to see what happens to Alvin, don’t we?”

“Over the hills,” Louis pouted.

The man sighed before taking his hand. He led Louis to the play room that was also behind the bookshelf. The toy camera on the shelf caught the boy’s eyes. He detached from Jack to retrieve it. “Dogs sleep! Dogs sleep!”

The man easily showed Louis how it worked. Louis watched the small TV play a show through the camera frame. He was disturbed by the firm shutting of the door. He twisted around to see Jack gone. Sighing, he went back to taking pictures.

After an hour, the camera got boring. He went over to the television. It displayed two dog friends going on adventures. He sat down on the rug. It was soft with circles on it. The dogs could talk. Why was that? Dogs weren’t supposed to talk. Bedrooms weren’t supposed to be behind bookshelves either. Louis wasn’t sure if children were supposed to be behind bookshelves. He lifted his shirt to inspect his present. Was this supposed to be a present? Security was a gift. That’s what May always said. May said a lot of things. She was definitely supposed to know them.

“Don’t mess with it, Louie.”

Louis jumped, startled from the surprise arrival. “Jack.” He watched Jack’s movements carefully.

The man adjusted the action figures. Louis had posed them for the camera. They all faced the TV once again.

The balloon popped, flopping down to the ground. Some of its remnants were still tied to the string. The hot sun melted the destroyed rubber into the pale gray sidewalk. They danced across like birds flew in the sky. Eventually summing themselves up into-- Jack. The pale thin lips moved but didn’t make a sound. Pinch. “Hey, buddy.”

He fell forward, his brain starting to catch up. He felt a different kind of sleepy. His eyes could stay open, but his limbs felt heavy and tingly.

“Jack,” he whispered, trying to make his tongue work properly. It never did, but he always tried. Jack understood though. The man shushed him before sweeping him up. His head laid on the man’s shoulder. As they walked out, he blearily saw a needle on the floor. “Jack.”

“Wanna play in your room?” He nodded. Jack set him on the furry dinosaur rug, leaning him against the bed. He put socks on Louis’s feet, then handed him notebook and crayons. “Uncle J has to leave for a bit, so you need to stay in here with Hoodie, okay?” He sat the doll next to him before putting a book, paper, and crayons on Louis’s lap.

“Red cat?”

“So that you don’t get hurt.”

“Mary tingle?”

“Until I get back.” He kissed Louis on the forehead. “Okay?”

“Jack.” He sniffled when Jack left. Coloring it would be. Maybe he’d write a story.

An old kitty named Ernest, parading around its home as any idler would. Nodding at fellow felines and hissing at dogs. Sit down to be pet by the people. All the little kids came to the garden to see him. They brought him cat food from the girl with the curly brown hair and dark brown eyes’ dad’s pet shop. She gave the best kisses with her plump lips.

Another kitty, young one, comes named Noah. He hid in the big tree’s trunk. Watching as the boy’s and girl’s fed Ernest. He would go out, but they frightened him. The girl with the curly brown hair and dark brown eyes whose dad owns a pet shop catches him in the corner of her eye when Ernest nudges her in the direction. Then Noah has friends too.

His friend, Ernest, takes him to his home. It’s atop the factory where most of the people in the town work. The smoke is an immutable, but not as bothersome as some smoke is. It pities the two kitties darker than it.

Noah is given a special spot in Ernest’s home. The older kitty tells him it’s all his own to do with whatever he wants. Ernest gives Noah a present too: chimerical cat food that keeps him from falling off the roof. It tastes sour at first, but doesn’t after a while. He gets used to it.

Ernest gave Noah a ball too. It’s red. Noah likes red best. He wishes the blue metal surrounding his special spot in Ernest’s home was red instead. He likes blue, but he likes red best. Ernest plays with Noah when he’s not too busy parading around and getting food. Noah takes the ball wherever he goes around the roof.

He would leave the roof, but he’s safer on it. No one can run him over with a car or take him to the pound. He’s safe on the roof. He’s safe on the roof with his ball and special spot.

He used to live with his mom and dad and Mera. Mera was a cat who lived with him and his family. She was what his mother called an honorary member. She was younger than his mom and dad, but older than Noah. she took care of him and kept him safe whenever they left. After she found another cat to mary and have a kitty or two of her own with, it was just Noah and his mom and his dad. His parents were nice. Well, his mom was nice. She would lick his fur clean and make sure he was warm at night. His dad was nice sometimes.

Noah and his ball and Ernest had fun. They would play games and Ernest would tell silly stories about owners he’s had. He’d tell Noah which ones he liked and the ones he hated and the ones that he didn’t love but didn’t harbor a grudge against either. Noah likes Ernest.

***

“...ie, buddy, hey. You’re burning up, my boy.” A whimper escaped Louis’s lips. He rose his hands in the air. The man picked him up. The cold hands were comforting in contrast to the too hot Louis felt. “What happened? Did you leave?”

He shook his head into the man’s shoulder. Louis wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, hiding his face in the cool crook of it. He whined when the man sat him on the toilet seat of the bathroom. Jack shushed him gently, one hand on his front to steady him.

“Does anything hurt?”

Louis sniffled.

“Louie, does anything hurt?”

Louis couldn’t stop the spray of his breakfast onto his lap. Tears formed in his eyes.

Jack stuck a thermometer in his ear.

Louis pulled away.

“Keep it in.”

He obeyed the second time. His breakfast dripped off of his lap onto the floor, causing him to cry harder.

“Don’t cry. We’ll get it cleaned up, then we’ll make your tummy feel better.” Jack started the water before pulling Louis’s shirt over his head. He threw it into the corner. “Let’s get these off,” the man said quietly.

Louis had to stand up to allow him to remove the pants and underwear.

Jack took off Louis’s present that keeps him safe and doesn’t hurt much once it’s in, putting the boy inside the warm bath. The man wiped him off gently and efficiently. He hummed the same song the whole time with his usual smile.

The man had only four as far as Louis could tell: his sad smile, his angry smile, his happy smile, and his smile that the boy had yet to figure out. He was determined to do it using his sun-like qualities.

Two upchucks (as Jack called them) and a second bath later, Louis laid on his back playing with Jason. “Jack.” The man hummed from his purple box that Louis wasn’t allowed to touch because he could hurt himself. “Jack,” he called again.

“Hm?”

“Owl dust money Hattie?”

“Your aunt’s not here right now.”

What had happened to Hattie though? “Owl dust?”

“She’s on vacation, my boy.”

Was she okay? “Hattie ninja balloon clock.”

The man came over and put on Louis’s present that keeps him safe and doesn’t hurt too much once it’s in. A tingle went through him. His tummy felt better since Jack gave him his drama for it. “Jack.”

“You’re welcome.” Jack felt his forehead. A yawn came forth. “Tired, Louie?” Louie's bottom lip peeked out as he shook his head. The man picked him up. Louis didn’t know why Jack did that often. After all, he could walk just fine, but he had come to love the man’s eternally tight grip. His eyes were closed before the got to his bedroom behind the bookshelf. Jack laid him on the bed. The man chuckled before covering him up. “Jack.” He made grabby hands at Jack.

“Stop. It’s time for bed.”

“Jack.” He struggled to sit up, getting dizzy from his present that made him sleepy and kept him safe and didn’t hurt so much when it was in. Louis began crying as he fell back down.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick.” Jack picked him up with a grin. “There there, Louie.” He rubbed up and down the boy’s spine. Louis sniffled. “Good boy. Dry those horrid tears.”

Louis had tired himself out even more at that point. “Jack.”

“I’ll stay until your asleep.” He sat on the bed with Louis in his arms.

“Fall with chalk vroom.”

“Why?”

“Jack,” Louis yawned.

“You’re tired. Don’t you want to go to bed?”

“Jack,” the boy whined. “Fall with chalk vroom.”

“I gotta go to bed too.”

“Furry berry caw.”

The man chuckled. “I don’t think so, buddy.” Jack shifted.

“Jack.” He didn’t want the man to leave. It was cold and his stomach hurt and he didn’t want to be alone in his bedroom behind the bookshelf. His grip tightened.

“I’m not.”

Could they go outside tomorrow? He really wanted to go outside. “Over the hills yesterday?”

“You’re sick.”

“Over the hills?”

“If you’re not too tired, we’ll go outside.”

Louis’s head lifted from Jack’s chest. “Over the hills!”

“Yep. If you’re not too tired, you can go outside.”

“Hoodie ��em salad.”

“And Jason can come.”

“Jack”

“You don’t have to say it so much, kid… Louie,” Jack corrected himself.

Louis pursed his lips, a long thought over question coming to the front of his mind. “Bikes?”

“Calamity Park.”

What was that? He’d been asking about what Jack does all day. “Owl dust?” Jack laughed.

“It’s a graveyard,” Jack elaborated.

Louis knew what that was. Some people he used to know were probably there. “Cars sliding?” Had Jack’s person weren’t there for the same reason?

“Uh-huh.”

“Aura shirt tab?” the boy asked. And the police came.

“What?”

“Bikes deluca,” Louis explained. Where were Jack’s parents then?

“Heh,” he chuckled. Louis didn’t know what was so funny. He never did with Jack. He swallowed. There was a slight burn that didn’t sit well with him. He didn’t tell Jack though. Being a bother was never a good thing. “Tell me, kid, what happened there?”

“Children, bikes, cars sliding.” Louis sighed before laying his head back on the man’s chest. “Bikes calm ‘em?” Louis unconsciously clenched Jack’s shirt.

“Nah, but I wouldn’t want my daddy or mommy visiting me.”

“Jack two.”

A smile crept onto the man’s face.

“Go to sleep, Louie.”

“Over the hills yesterday?” His eyes fell closed.

“If you’re not too tired.”

Louis was already asleep.

***

“Louie,” a feminine voice called.

Louis’s eyes darted around the playroom. Nobody was supposed to go behind the bookshelf except him and Jack. It was ‘Louie’s place’ as Jack called it.

“Louie, it’s Hattie. Come here.”

He stood, grabbing Jason’s plush hand, and walked over to the back of the bookshelf. “Hattie?” he asked cautiously. He wasn’t even sure if people could hear the other way. He was pretty sure they couldn’t. Louis remembers when he screamed because spider scared him and Jack had people over to fix the dishwasher nothing happened.

“Louie, open the bookshelf.” Louis wasn’t sure of how to open it. Besides, he might get in trouble for having had left the room before Jack got back. He pivoted in the direction of the playroom. “Louie, wait. Open the bookshelf.”

“‘Em words palookee.”

“Uh… I don’t-- what you’re… I do-- there’s a button pad.” Louis didn’t see any buttons. “It’s the color black. Put in the code 123.”

He squinted. Oh. There it was. He could almost reach it if he put Jason down. He propped the doll up against the back of the shelf and stretched to press the buttons. The shelf turned out. Jason was pushed down a hole before he could grab it. Louis shrieked.

Hattie walked inside Louie’s place. “What’s wrong?”

“Hoodie.” He pointed. She looked into the small space under the shelf before bending down and retrieving the doll.

“This is Hoodie?” He nodded.

She smiled then stood up and closed the bookshelf. She looked him over.

Louis walked back into the playroom with Jason. They sat to play with cars and race. Jason had only won twice, and it was because Louis had let him. “Where’s Jack?”

“Hoodie smile rocks momo.”

She came and sat by him, placing her purse to the side. “Is he?”

“Jack.” She raised his shirt and pressed a button on his present that kept him safe and didn’t always hurt so much. Louis crawled over to his car bin. “Calvin curt cord Hoodie,” he explained while trading out a blue for a green. He wondered why Hattie was here. She’d made Jack mad last time. He didn’t like scary Jack either. Jack was never scary to him though.

“Sister,” a voice greeted.

Louis startled, dropping his cars. He smiled at the sight of his friend.

“Louie.” The man opened his arms and crouched down for a proper greeting. Louis came into them for a hug.

“Hey, Jackie,” she replied. “Were you at work?” Jack nodded as a grin formed on his face. Louis climbed onto his shoulder with the help of the man’s hands. Jack’s short and curly brown locks were soft. They smelled of vanilla. He buried his nose in them. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“Have you thought anymore about what we talked over?”

“No.”

“I think it’ll help.”

“No.”

“I could take him somewhere.”

“Nah, I got it. We’re going outside today. If he’s not too tired, of course.”

“Jack,” Louis added. Jack brought him down to the floor.

“Go find your shoes.”

“Shelf?”

“In your closet.”

“Shelf,” Louis said under his breath as he went into his bedroom. He heard Jack yelling ‘the closet, Louie’ from behind him. That’s what he had said. “Shelf.” He stopped on the furry dinosaur rug. “Owl dust drill shelf?” He sighed as he looked around. His eyes landed on a doorway. He went to the door painted blue like his room and opened it. Inside was a solitary pair of red sneakers. He smiled, pulling them out. “Hoodie shelf.” Louis plopped to the ground as he attempted putting them on. The laces were becoming an issue. He went back to the playroom. “Jack,” he pouted, gesturing to the untied laces.

The man sat against the wall next to Hattie. She rubbed circles into his wrist with her thumb. Her head laid against his arm. “C’mere,” Jack told him. He came up to the man. Jack easily tied his shoelaces into bunny rabbit ears. The boy dropped into his lap. A yawn was let loose. “You tired?”

“Jack,” the boy blurted. He wasn’t tired. “Jack.”

“You can take a nap, and then we go.”

“Over the hills yesterday.”

“Okay…” Louis yawned again. He stood up to keep awake.

“Yesterday.” The man chuckled and stood. Louis took his hand as they walked out to the bookshelf. Jack put pressed the buttons and it opened.

Louis squinted when the natural light first hit him. The backyard had a swing that swung and a garden with flowers and endless grass leading into the woods. “Golgi?” Louis asked. “Golgi?”

“You may go on the tree.” Louis tugged the man along to a tree.

“Golgi..”

“Tree.”

Louis frowned. He was tired of all the man’s corrections. “Golgi welsh?”

“Quercus robur to be exact.”

“Oak,” Hattie explained as she came beside them.

“Golgi ‘em?”

“Sure,” Jack answered easily with a sigh.

“Nice Hoodie new?” Could Jason have a tree?

“Name it whatever you want.”

“Joe.”

“Good name.” Louis pulled a leaf off his tree.

“Hoodie.”

“It’s fine.”

“Big golgi Hoodie?” Jason wanted a small tree.

“Yep.”

Louis yawned again.

“Let’s go inside.”

“Jack,” he complained.

“We’ll come out again.” Louis laid on the man’s shoulder.

“Jack.” They walked back into the home and behind the bookshelf. “Sin?” The man nodded before laying him down. “Hattie sin?”

“Hattie’s staying.” The bed dipped where they sat.

Louis had almost drifted off when they began talking.

“He needs to go back to his parents, Jackie.”

“Louie belongs here.”

“He’s not yours.” She paused. “We’ll get you back on your medication, okay?”

“I don’t like it.”

“You think better on it. Don’t you want to think better?”

“I think fine.”

“I know, but you can do it better. Even Bruce says so. He and the boys were thinking of coming for a visit.”

Jack was silent.

“He’s so busy with the company. He barely has time. Don’t you want him to come over?”

“Go,” he insisted coldly.

“Jackie, c’mon. He’s our brother. Besides, you know only say these things cause I love you.” Jack picked Louis up, putting the boy to his chest. “Here, I’ll call Harvey.”

“No.”

“Jack--”

“No.” Louis didn’t know what they were talking about at all. Who was Harvey? He shifted in Jack’s lap to get more comfortable. The sailor’s ship went off once again.

***

Louis peeked out the bookshelf. Jack wasn’t home yet, but he had to use the bathroom. Holding it any longer would only lead to ruin. So, he pressed the buttons like he counted the Train Trio in his book and tiptoed out.

He hoped Jack wouldn’t be too angry. He’d never seen the man angry at him before, but based on looks he’d given Hattie, Louis never wanted to. He closed the bathroom door. Louis hummed a song as he pulled down his pants and took care of business.

With his aim not being the best, the boy left a small puddle on the floor. He took a towel off of the side of the bathtub and wiped it up before returning it. “Water buffalo,” he sang quietly, washing his hands while he did it. The boy dried his hands on his shirt before leaving the bathroom. He was almost to the bookshelf when he heard a knock on the door. His eyes widened.

Louis rushed back into his nook and closed the shelf. The door was open. A man yelled through the house. The boy ran into his bedroom and closed the door before hiding under his bed. He tried to think of what he usually did when he heard yelling.

The bookshelf hissed open. He whimpered before scampering into the a small compartment in his closet. He hated yelling. The boy pressed his hands to his ears.

“Margie,” he slurred as he walked into the house. “Margie!” Margie had left a while ago. It’d been a year. He counted. Yet, the man stumbled in calling her name every night. The car keys and coat dropped to the floor. “Margie! Where’re-- what’re ya doin’ up? It’s late, boy.” He nodded, leading the drunkard to the couch.

“Mommy’s not home, Daddy.”

“Oh… yeah.” He collapsed onto the sofa. The boy put a water bottle with a straw in it to the man’s liquored lips. He sipped until half of it was gone. The boy placed it on the end table.

“Side.” No response. “Daddy, go on your side.” The man obeyed. He covered him with a blanket. The kid fell to the floor with a the television remote. He bopped to the show’s tune. Vomit splattered into the blue bucket next to him. His nose scrunched as he wiped the man’s mouth with a baby wipe. He discarded the now brown wetness into the bucket. He’d flush it in the morning when he knew the man was done.

***

“Louie,” Jack called. The man’s shoes scuffed against the wooden floor as he looked around the boy’s living space. Louis stayed firmly planted in the compartment. He bit his lip. “Louie, where are you? The men are gone.” He bent down to tie his shoe. He turned after seeing Louis out of the corner of his eyes. Jack smiled warmly. “Why’re you under there? They scare you?”

Blood dripped down Louis’s chin. He gasped, finally realizing the pain. When had he started biting his lip. It burned. “It’s okay. You can come out.” He shook his head. The boy didn’t know why his heart was pounding. It hurt. Breathing was becoming rather difficult as well.

Jack left the room. He returned a minute later with a bulge in his pocket. “Come on out now, Louie.”

The boy reluctantly crawled out.

“What’s wrong?”

He hugged the man tightly.

Jack lightly rubbed up and down his back. “You’re okay.” After Jack pinched him in the hand, Louie could breathe better, and his heart stopped pounding.

He decided he liked those kinds of pinches. The blood on his lip smeared Jack’s purple shirt. His head was too heavy to lift.

“Hungry?”

He whined as the man attempted to get a look at his face. Jack shushed him as he stood.

Jack hummed the song Louis had yet to figure out the name and origin of. He set him to lean against the bathtub, looking for cotton balls and the clear stuff that burns when you put it on cuts. He watched the lithe man carefully. Jack turned his back to Louis.

“Jack.” Everything was hazy.

“I’m not leaving, Louie. Give me one minute, okay?” The man came back a minute and picked him back up. “We’re gonna go eat a some.” Louis nodded while the man cleaned his lip. Jack seemed flatter than usual. He held onto Jack tightly when the man attempted to put him down. Jack sighed. “Let’s sit down.”

“Jack…”

“We can have ice cream if you’re still hungry.” Jack put him down before he could answer.

The boy laid his head down on the table, unable to keep it up without being dizzy.

Jack sat Louis in his lap a moment later. He put a sandwich to the boy’s lips.

Louis accepted a small bite. He turned into Jack’s chest.

“How about a bit more, Louie?”

“Jack.”

“Okay, bed then?”

“Sin Jack sin.” Louis lost the fight to keep his eyes open.

“Could we try proper words, Louie?” The bitten sandwich appeared at the boy’s lips.

He took another bite, slightly bigger. He chewed to the tune of Jack’s humming.

The man had gotten half the sandwich into the boy before it came back up.

Louis’s eyes watered as the man wiped his mouth.

Jack carted him off to bed. He hadn’t noticed it was dark outside. “Wanna read me a book?” Jack asked.

The boy nodded as Jack retrieved one.

He was placed in Jack’s lap. The man held the book in front of them. Louis cleared his throat. “Wall speaks windy hot mess.” Jack turned the page. “Brightness we…”

“Rug,” Jack helps. “Bo has an owner. He is Joe Ben Ho. Why does he have three names?”

“Typing while sleeping and running while cat.”

“A first, middle, and last?”

Louis nodded.

“Smart boy. And me?”

“Twelve.”

“What are they?”

“Jack points Nape.”

“What about you?”

“Louie.” The boy paused as he thought. He wanted more than one name. “Louie points…”

“You want more than one?” Louis nodded emphatically. The man smiled and chuckled. “If you want, I guess. What’re they going to be?”

“Tom?”

“It’s middle, and why Tom?”

“Tom.”

“Sure then.”

“Hattie points...?”

“Nape.”

“Louie points Tom points Nape?” Surely if Jack would share with Hattie, he would share with Louis. They were friends.

“You may.” Louis smiled as he went back to the book.

“Bo six seven. He likes play-in-g? Over the hills in can.” The words changed for a second. They were back to normal now.

“You do like to play outside. Bo likes to play with Joe outside. Why are they in the pool?”

“Doo cups. ‘Em?”

“Have you ever been swimming?”

He shook his head. What about his question? “Jack.”

“Then probably not.”

“Jack cups?”

“I do swim.”

Would Jack teach him to swim? Maybe if he asked nicely. “Sea ‘em?”

“Another day. So, Bo likes the pool. It’s time to go, said Joe. Bo and his…”

“Rug.”

“Owner, yes. Joe went home. What’s that word say?” Louis pointed to the page.

“They.”

“They ate lunch. Say it just like that.”

“Jack…” Why was the man so difficult? That wasn’t what the words said.

“Here: They.”

“They.”

“Ate,” Jack said.

“Ate?”

“Lunch.”

“Lilies?”

“Lunch.”

Louis humphed as Jack went to the next page.

“Bo likes kibble. Joe likes hu…?”

“Milk.”

“Joe likes humilk food.”

Louis smiled. He was good at this reading thing. Jack didn’t always read words the right way, but that was okay. Louis was nothing if not patient.

“What’s humilk food?”

“‘Em points Jack.”

“What’s in the bowl?”

“Sally.” Louis looked up at him. Jack’s soup was brown, but this was red. “Windows books dogs hands run?”

“There are different types of soups, you know. This one is probably tomato. See? He has grilled cheese with it.”

“Jack.” Louis paused. “‘Em points Jack coast sally?”

“Sure.” Louis yawned. “Let’s finish tomorrow.” The boy didn’t protest Jack’s tucking him into bed.

“Aye, Jack.”

“Bye, Louie.”

“Louie points Tim points Nape.”

“Bye, Louie Tim Nape.”

“Aye.” Louis drifted off soon after.

***

Gone. gone. How could he be gone? He was just here. He was laughing and playing and-- he’s gone. He’s not supposed to be gone. He’s supposed to be in bed sleeping. Why is he gone? Where’d he go? Gone. Gone. He’s not supposed to be gone. This isn’t fair. Kid’s don’t leave.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

He clenches the steering wheel, knuckles white from it. He’s been gone for a while now. She says he’s supposed to be getting used to him being gone. He doesn’t think that’ll happen.

Not fair. Not just. Not right.

He is-- was-- good. He was great. He tucked him in every night. He made sure his boy said prayers to a God who just slighted them.

I hear no voice, I feel no touch,

I see no glory bright;

But yet I know that God is near,

In darkness as in light.

Who spat in the face of all those prayers.

He watches ever by my side,

And hears my whispered prayer:

The Father for His little child

Both night and day doth care.

If he had the means, he’d spit back.

What kind of-- bikes and sliding. It slammed right in. The police were behind them. Lights. Red and blue. Red and blue.

He slows the car. A small, black shadow disappeared into the alley… a child.

Him! It was him! There he was! Right there! How had he lost his boy? He’s been here the whole time! Of course he was here! The blue shirt. Louie loved blue. He was in a blue shirt,

Park the car. Park the car.

Walk out. Walk out.

Go get the boy. Go get my boy.

Go. Go. Go.

Louie

***

Bruce grunted as he sat down in the chair by the hospital bed. Crisp blue eyes opened to stare at him. He smiled awkwardly. The boy didn’t smile back. His eyes drooped from the sedative they’d had to give him. Apparently he had him hooked up to something that dispensed a sedative hourly. Was that even safe? How was he to know though? “Can you identify him?” he asked. The teen blinked once. Twice. He struggled to sit up. The social worker propped a pillow behind him. He reached for Bruce. The man scooted closer. The boy took a piece of Bruce’s jacket in his pale fingers. He studied it, mouthing nothings.

“The sheep languished blue trains suffer?” the teen questioned. The detective sighed before leaving, mumbling something about paperwork. He turned to the social worker.

She shrugged sadly before turning to the boy. “Know where you are, sweetheart?” she queried. He seemed to understand, but he didn’t. It couldn’t really be explained.

“Porch steps run come here,” the boy told her. He was quite unsettling for a scrawny fifteen year old. “The sin lacy peas woke.”

“It’s probably schizophasia, Mr. Nape.” The man sighed. They should’ve watched him more, committed him even. It shouldn't be like this. How could he have let it happen? “We haven’t been able to find him a place yet, but the hospital sa--”

“I can take him,” Bruce blurted.

She turned to the boy then back to him. “Oh.” Back to the boy. “I’ll get the paperwork.”

“I’ve already signed it.”

She sat back down. “Did you want to try some more?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose but nodded. Maybe he could figure it out? “What was his name?” The boy should be answer to that. It wasn’t complicated. He should be able to do it. He wouldn’t take his eyes off the jacket.“Could we have the room?”

She nodded and stood once again. “I’ll be outside.” She left.

Jack shifted. The teen flinched, taking his hand back. “I’m not gonna hurt you, chum. He can’t anymore either. What’s your name?” Sure, he knew it. He wanted to know if the boy did too though. He grinned slightly, nodding. Couldn’t make the boy think he was mad at him too. “Who were you with?”

“Take shirt slam crazy bike tires in afternoon.”

“Okay.” Could what had been shattered be fixed? “How’d he find you?”

“Jack?”

“He’s not here, buddy.”

“Folders pile swimming red clouds?”

“Uh, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Folders pile swimming red clouds?” He obviously knew what he was saying. He repeated it. Jack sighed. “Folders pile swimming red clouds.”

“Are you hungry?” The blue eyes teared up.

“Jack?”

“They have ice cream in the cafeteria. You want some?”

“The sheep languished blue trains suffer?” Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s try one word, yeah? Who’d you live with?” He blinked. “His name is…”

“Jack.”

“And your name is…”

“Louie.”

“Good. How’d Jack find you?”

“Jack.”

“You’re gonna come home with me.”

He received more blinks. Then tears. He wasn’t equipped to deal with those.

“I have three boys. One’s about your age. You’ll like them.”

His jacket had grasped the boy’s attention once again. He came closer to clench it once again.

Jack skillfully took the jacket off without scaring the boy off.

The teen continued to study it.

He finally realized it was his name. Nape. His wife’d had it embroidered last year for their wedding anniversary. It read ‘B. Nape.’ Bruce tapped the boy until he looked up. “How’d you end up with Jack?”

“Children, bikes, cars sliding.”

– The End –

#writing #short story #heidiwritesstories #pls reblog if you like #i hope you like it #it's about 7.000 words

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

The Last Toll

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3865

Part One; Part Two

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

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

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

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

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

Monday 6:00 A.M.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cas, no-”

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

“Fine, but I am picking the music.”

9:34 A.M.

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

Don’t do this.

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

Please baby, answer the phone.

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

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

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

“Now what?” Cas read your expression.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s okay, Dean.”

“Bring her back. Now.”

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

“Where are you headed?”

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

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

“He wouldn’t tell you?”

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

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

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

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

“I know where she’s going.”

2:14 P.M.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” You just shrugged sadly.

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

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

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

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

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

4:36 P.M.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be great.”

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

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

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

10:29 P.M.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe there’s still a way.”

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

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

“Dean, what are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

11:57 P.M.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

12:00 A.M.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she’s buying a stairway to Heaven.

Tuesday 8:33 A.M.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Deal Series: @writeroutoftime

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

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