#nessie the ambulance car

[bhnsby]

Hi starlight fans had a really bad fever and this came to me in a fever dream please let me know if this sucks

This requires you all to just bare with me as a lot has to do with my little visions of these characters

(Also bare with me as I took the concept of control playing with the toys that I’m not sure which production started that)

But okay so control gets a new train toy an old 1920s carriage car, and decides to make her an ambulance car because control is stupid and idk if that exists but whatever it’s starlight who cares. But control kinda like.. forgot. That wrench exists. So instead this new one is with the coaches and to differ her from wrench she is a child. Once again bare with me she’s cool in my head. So she’s an old style 1920s ambulance car (?) and is also a child. The coaches take her in since she’s one of them and buffy and Ashley act like her guardians they’re very Tanya and Rosie from mamma Mia to me. So they sort of guide her they make sure she’s not getting into shit. Now for the actual character I’ve settled on Nessie the ambulance/nursing car since idk man it’s cute. She’s got this old nurse look to her and she constantly wants to take care of people and such. She’s very bold and adventurous and can easily get into mess. Ashley and Buffy do not want any of the freights around her because to them they’ll be too “rough” and fear that she’ll get hurt because she’s too “weak”. The only one they trust around her is Dustin, and so of course the one time he is left in charge of her he accidentally lets the other freights get a hold of her. Of course the coaches are all freaking out because they fear that she’s gonna die but alas she has very strong skin and is able to bounce back from the crap she endured with the freights.

Now for the main event, when the components first found out there was a new coach they weren’t amused, especially since she was a “repair” truck of some kind and was basically ripping off wrench, but when they found out she is only a kid they all become more partial to her. Except Wrench. She is completely unfazed and almost detests this child, but Nessie is absolutely IN LOVE with wrench. She looks up to her like a big sister and will watch her do absolutely anything in awe. This is her starlight express this is her god she wants to be exactly like her. All the other components want wrench to be more kindly to her especially Volta and Krupp but wrench just does not gaf.

I don’t have anything else she’s not important she’s just a bit of fun and I like her dynamics, I think a child coach or freight or anything in starlight (that isn’t control) is immediately an amazing inclusion, and I love the “child character looks up to and admires other characters that does not want to be looked up to by this little nuisance”.

I haven’t got anything for her and the engines that’s up to you to imagine but if you do please lmk because she’s cute and I love her

[noahsinclaxr]

"I thought the same." Noah sighed, rubbing his cheek until he placed both his hands on his hips. He was nearly twelve, he was growing. Wasn't that normal? For them to be hungry and tired during the period that their body was developing? Growing? He felt slightly better when she at least confided in him that she had seen the signs too and hadn't thought it was something bad. But what could it be? "I told the doctors, so they know he's been off this morning, but if it has been going on longer you should let them know." Unless she had already. Maybe those symptoms would make the search easier for the doctors. "Nora did the most." Noah shrugged, not really feeling like taking the credit for it all. But it wasn't like they had a different option? If Nora hadn't been there, he would have called for an ambulance since he would've lost too much time getting Nessie in her carry-on. There was no way he would have decided to wait it out. "It feels like he was, but I think in reality only a minute? Maybe two? He went out cold in the car again, woke up here." He shared. He had put him in the front seat so he could keep an eye on him. Sure he had the mirror for the backseat, which they used for Nessie when she was in the car seat, this just made sense at the time. "Longest hour of my life." and he had spent hours waiting for help in a desert, wounded, which said something.@havenbsinclair

Haven knew that despite the way that Noah was holding himself together that he had to be freaking out being in the position he’d been in. Reaching out and grasping his arm with her hand before giving it a comforting squeeze, she watched as he began explaining what had happened. The story of breakfast seemed to be fairly normal behavior for Lake recently; there had been several mornings where they’d witnessed the same routine. Toast, eggs, sometimes cereal, orange juice or milk; some of which Lake ate a ton of and sometimes he didn’t eat much at all. So to hear that he was doing the same thing with Noah and Nora that morning. She was trying to move past the part where he mentioned Lake collapsing, but she knew it was important to the story. “Yeah, I’d say that’s about normal behavior for him recently.” She nodded as he explained Lake had slept late and she sighed, shaking her head. She was stumped on what was going on, and while she was thankful that Noah and Nora had been there to help him, she wanted nothing more than to have answers for all of this. “Him being tired has been happening a lot too.” She sighed. “I-“ she passed, swallowing. “I thought it was all pre-teen hormones and a growth spurt or something but not I’m thinking something is seriously wrong.” She added. “Thank you.” She smiled, leaning forward and hugging her older brother. “I’m sorry you had to be out in this position but, it means a lot that you reacted so quickly. I know it’s silly to thank you for that, but, I just- I don’t know what I would’ve done if he’d been with anyone else..” she sighed, taking a look at the direction the stretcher had just taken him to. “Was he out for long? Did anything else happen?” @noahsinclaxr

[saltandburnsis]

dead in the water, pt. 2

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam

Age: 20

Warnings: Drowning mention

Word Count: 2,993

Summary: The investigation brings on new connections, revelations and deaths around every corner as you and your brothers get closer to finding the real monster of Lake Manitoc.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent messages while I was away. I appreciate every one of you so, so much. Thankfully (and miraculously) both of my grandparents have made full recoveries. (Still positive for COVID but symptom-free.) As usual, all dialogue taken directly from the episode will be in italics.

~ ~ ~ ~

“So, there’s the three drowning victims from this year,” Sam said, his eyes never leaving the computer screen in front of him. You were going through the clothes with Dean, silently planning a trip to the local laundromat as the “too used to wear again” pile grew larger and larger by the second.

“And before that?” Dean asked, lifting a shirt to his nose before setting it down on the bed beside him—the first of few wearable clothes.

“Uh, yeah. Six more, spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered, either. If there is something out there, it’s picking up its pace,” Sam replied.

“So, what? We got a lake monster on a binge?” Dean threw a pair of jeans to the large pile behind you.

“This whole lake monster theory—it just bugs me,” you cut in, mimicking your eldest brother’s actions. At this rate, you’d spend more time at the laundromat than working on the case.

“Why?” Dean asked. Sam continued to click through the articles on his screen.

“Loch Ness, Lake Champlain—there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, there’s almost nothing. Whatever is out there, no one’s living to talk about it,” you explained. Dean walked over to Sam, standing behind him and reading over his shoulder. He pointed at one of the articles.

“Bar. Christopher Bar. Where have I heard that name before?” he asked.

“Christopher Bar, the victim in May,” Sam mused, clicking around a bit to find the article he was looking for.

“Isn’t that Andrea’s last name?” you asked as he searched, making your way over to the table and leaning over Sam’s right shoulder. He pulled up the article he was looking for, and the three of you were met with a picture of Lucas. He was wrapped in a towel, and you could only assume it was his grandfather standing beside him.

“Huh. Christopher Bar was Andrea’s husband. Lucas’s father. Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued,” Sam summarized. He clicked on the picture so it filled the screen, Lucas’s terrified face staring back at you.

“Maybe we have an eyewitness after all,” you said, moving away from the table and looking anywhere but the picture. Dean did the same, though his eyes were locked on the computer screen.

“No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn’t something you just get over.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Dean pulled up to the playground, and parked. He didn’t shut the car off, however, until he’d surveyed the area and spotted Andrea.

“Let’s go” was all he said before getting out of the car. He waited for you and Sam to get out before starting the walk over to where Andrea sat.

“Can we join you?” Sam asked once the three of you were in close proximity to her. Andrea looked up at the three of you and smiled.

“I’m here with my son,” she replied, glancing over at Lucas before turning back to you.

“Oh. Mind if I say ‘hi’?” Dean asked. Without waiting for a response, he turned away and walked towards Lucas. Andrea scoffed, smiling, and looked back at you and Sam.

“Tell your friend this whole “Jerry McGuire” thing’s not going to work on me,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s what this is about,” you answered, giving her a small, reassuring smile before looking back at Dean. Andrea mimicked your smile before turning her attention to Dean and her son. She rose from her seat and stood beside you on your left, Sam to your right. The three of you watched in an awkward silence for a moment, like parents only congregated to ensure their children’s safety. You decided to break the tense stillness.

“So, has Lucas always been so…reserved?” You asked, watching as Lucas almost refused to acknowledge Dean’s presence. A humorless laugh escaped Andrea’s lips, and she turned to face you.

“No, no. He used to be so talkative when he was younger. He shut down when his dad passed.”

“We’re sorry to hear that,” Sam interjected when Andrea paused. She sighed, crossing her arms. “I’ve taken him to therapists…done everything under the sun that I could, but still, Lucas hasn’t said a word. Not even to me. Not since his dad’s accident.”

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” said Dean as he went to stand beside her.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam asked. Andrea sighed again, a sort of exasperated sigh that usually accompanied information relayed countless times.

“Oh, that it’s a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she replied. Something about her tone led you to believe she didn’t believe that herself.

“That can’t be easy for either of you,” you sympathized.

“We moved in with my dad. That helps a lot. It’s just…when I think about what Lucas went through—what he saw…” Andrea trailed off, focusing her gaze back on her son.

“Kids are strong. You’d be surprised what they can deal with,” Dean assured her.

“You know, he used to have such life. He was so hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth.” Her nostalgic smile was short-lived as her thoughts settled back in the present. “Now, he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” She cut herself off when Lucas approached, bending slightly to greet the boy. “Hey, sweetie.” Lucas kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, but went to Dean’s side and held out a picture.

“Thanks.” Dean took the picture and looked down at it. “Thanks, Lucas.” He turned his head to look back at the younger boy, but he’d already set back toward the bench. Andrea watched him for a moment then looked back at Dean, mouth slightly agape.

~ ~ ~ ~

The door of your motel room swung open and Sam walked in, letting it shut itself.

“So, I think it’s safe to say we can rule out Nessie,” he announced. He looked to Dean, who sat at the end of the bed currently covered in clothes—clean clothes you’d just brought back from the laundromat.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked as Sam sat at the edge of the second bed.

“I just drove by the Carlton’s house,” he explained. “There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”

“He drowned?” Dean asked in disbelief.

“Yep, in the sink.”

“What the hell? So, Y/N is right; this isn’t a creature. We’re dealing with something else,” said Dean.

“Yeah, but what?” you asked, dropping the shirt in your hands. Sam shook his head.

“I don’t know. A water wraith maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water…” Dean trailed off, and the three of you looked at each other, eyes widening with the revelation you seemed to come to simultaneously. “Water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake,” you continued your brother’s thoughts. “Which would explain why it’s upping the body count. The lake is draining. It’ll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it’s running out of time.”

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone almost anywhere,” Sam added.

“This is going to happen again soon.” Dean moved to sit at the table and began putting his shoes back on, ready to go after this thing. You grabbed your boots from their spot beside the bed.

“And we do know one other thing for sure,” Sam continued. “We know that this has got something to do with Bill Carlton.”

“Yeah. It took both his kids,” you said, pointing out the obvious in Sam’s statement as you tied your laces.

“And I’ve been asking around. Lucas’s dad, Chris—Bill Carlton’s godson,” Sam revealed.

“Let’s go pay Mr. Carlton a visit,” Dean decided, rising from his seat.

~ ~ ~ ~

As if he’d never moved from the last time the three of you visited his home, Bill Carlton sat on his dock, looking out at the water. His back was to the house, and he made no move to acknowledge your arrival at any point as the three of you walked over. His grief was obvious in his movements—or lack of, that is—but it was a whole other thing to see the despair on his face, the sorrow in his eyes when you approached the man.

“Mr. Carlton?” Sam asked. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“We’re from the Department of-”

“I don’t care who you’re with,” Bill cut Dean off. “I’ve answered enough questions today.” His voice quivered as he spoke, always on the verge of tears. You stepped forward to speak with him.

“Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?” Your voice was empathetic, but professional—you’d found it was enough to give you an air of authority, but comforting enough to allow you to gain the trust of your witness. Bill, however, remained silent, refusing to meet your gaze. “Mr. Carlton, Sophie’s drowning and Will’s death—we think there might be a connection. To you or your family.”

“My children are gone. It’s…it’s worse than dying.” Bill blinked away tears and finally turned to look up at you. The air fell still for a moment, punctuating his words. He turned away before he spoke again. “Go away…please.” Dean nudged you before nodding his head in the direction of the car. You wouldn’t get anywhere badgering him any further. Sam and Dean left the dock, but you stayed planted in your spot, pursing your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Bill only looked down at the ground and shut his eyes. With that, you finally turned and followed your brothers back to the car.

“What do you think?” Sam asked once you were back at the car and out of Bill’s earshot.

“I think the poor guy’s been through hell. I also think he’s not telling us something.” Dean answered.

“So now what?” Sam asked, resting his arms on the hood of the car. You went to stand beside him, ready to get in, but Dean had stopped and was now looking up at the house.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Huh. Maybe Bill’s not the only one who knows something.” He pulled Lucas’s picture out of his jacket pocket and held it out in front of him. The drawing was identical to the house standing before you.

~ ~ ~ ~

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Andrea said, putting her hands on her hips.

“I just need to talk to him, just for a few minutes,” Dean pleaded.

“He won’t say anything. What good’s it gonna do?” Andrea asked him. Sam was the one to answer her.

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something’s happening out there.”

“My husband, the others—they just drowned. That’s all.” Andrea shook her head, adamant in her beliefs. You sighed.

“If that’s what you really believe, then we’ll go,” you said. “But if you think there’s even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let Dean talk to your son.” Andrea didn’t reply, and she cast her gaze downward. You could practically see the gears turning as she weighed the pros and cons of letting the three of you upstairs. Moments later, she looked back at the three of you and nodded.

“Alright.” She moved past you and walked up the stairs, motioning for the three of you to follow.  You stood against the wall once you’d all reached Lucas’s room, standing close enough to see what was going on, but far enough back to give Dean space to do his thing without an audience. He stepped into the room and knelt down on the floor beside Lucas.

“Hey, Lucas. Remember me?” It was silent for a moment as he looked down at two of Lucas’s pictures. “You know, I, uh…I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.” Dean pulled the picture of the Carlton house out of his pocket and set it down in front of Lucas. “How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me. You’re scared.” Dean nodded. “It’s okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But, see, my mom, I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that everyday. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe your dad wants you to be brave, too.” You quickly wiped a tear from your eye. The three of you had always had a bond, having lost your mothers to demons at such young ages, but Dean was the only one with real, concrete memories of Mary. Having been two when your own mother passed, you had a vague recollection of her, but nothing as real as what Dean had.

Suddenly, Angela’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open again. You looked back into the room to see what you had missed. Lucas was looking up at Dean, meeting his eyes. He grabbed another picture and held it out to your brother. Dean looked down at it then smiled at the boy. “Thanks, Lucas.”

~ ~ ~ ~

You sat in the back of the car, leaning forward and looking over Sam’s shoulder at the picture he held in his hands. Dean sped down the street, headed back towards the motel.

“Andrea said the kid never drew like that ’til his dad died,” Dean said.

“There are cases. Going through a traumatic experience could make certain people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies—” Sam relayed some Supernatural Psychology 101, but was cut off by Dean.

“Whatever’s out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?” He asked. Sam started to respond, but Dean continued his thought. “I mean, it’s only a matter of time before somebody else drowns. So if you got a better lead, please.”

“Alright,” Sam relented. “We got another house to find.”

“The only problem is, there’s about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone,” Dean complained. You reached forward and took the picture from Sam, moving it so Dean could better see it.

“See this church?” You asked, pointing to the building in the foreground. “Bet there’s less than a thousand of those around here.”

“Oh, kid thinks she’s so smart,” Dean mocked. You smirked.

“Only ‘cause I am,” you responded triumphantly, sitting back in your seat and setting the picture down next to you. Sam chuckled at the two of you before looking at Dean, shifting the mood of the car when he began to speak.

“You know, uh, what you said about mom—you never told me that before.” Dean kept his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s no big deal,” he replied, voice monotone. He looked over at Sam when the younger brother refused to look away and grimaced. “Oh, god, we’re not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?” Sam smiled but shook his head, finally turning away from Dean. The two of them remained silent, though, and you decided to break the tension.

“Aw, look at college boy, all in touch with his feelings,” you teased, reaching forward to push on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re turning it into a real chick-flick in here.” You sat back and smiled when your brothers started laughing; your job was done.

~ ~ ~ ~

It had taken a little over half an hour to find the location from Lucas’s drawing, but your assertion had been correct and the three of you had found the white church and, subsequently, the yellow house with relative ease. You had opted to stay in the car this time, letting Sam and Dean go investigate this part of the puzzle. You didn’t have a good feeling about what they were going to find, and after your encounter with Bill, you thought it best to stay back, lest you start getting emotional. Sam and Dean were back in the car within twenty minutes and as always, were quick to fill you in on their discoveries.

“Okay, this little boy, Peter Sweeney, vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow,” you summarized, looking between the two of them.

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean nodded, eyes on the road in front of him as he drove down the street, on his way back to the Carlton house.

“And Bill—the people he loves—they’re all getting punished,” Sam continued.

“So what if Bill did something to Peter?” Dean asked, connecting the dots in front of you.

“What if Bill killed him?” Sam specified.

“Peter’s spirit would be furious,” you said. “It’d want revenge. I mean, it’s possible.”

You were back at Bill’s house minutes later. The three of you got out and looked to the dock, only to find it empty.

“Mr. Carlton!” Sam called, looking around. Dean looked back to the water and spotted Bill in the boat, going out into the water.

“Hey, check it out,” he said, getting you and Sam to follow his gaze. The three of you ran down the beach and onto the dock, calling after Bill.

“Turn the boat around! Come back here!” you yelled, your brothers calling out similarly. Bill only looked back at you before turning his head and speeding up. Seconds later the boat shot out of the water, flying back towards the dock. You jumped back at the sudden explosion of water. The boat landed upside down on top of Bill and, almost instantly, both disappeared under the water.

~ ~ ~ ~

SPN rewrite taglist: @mrsfortune1306 @marvelous-glims @headsup-i-am-very-bad-at-writing

forever taglist: @griff1ndor @gothsatanicrapunzel @choosemyname @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @not-astounding @vicmc624 @idksupernatural

[nessywinchester]

Not Broken - Part 2

Paramedic!Dean Winchester x Reader (AU)

Warnings: mention of medical issues including brief description of wounds and sutures, hint at chronic illness, kind of fluff?, Dean being a cutie.

Word Count: 1,559

A Note from Nessy: Here’s Part 2. Feedback is appreciated!

Part 1

You rolled your eyes as Emma rushed to your side. It had been a week since you had left the hospital, spending four days under close watch due to a serious blood infection. But, you were feeling better now, and you just wanted to be left alone.

“Your appointment is in forty-five minutes. We better get going,” Emma instructed as she handed you your coat. Again, you just roll your eyes, snatching the garment from her. She hadn’t left your apartment since you came home, other than to go to work. You adored her, you really did. But, she was treating you like you were dying.

“Emma, I can drive myself—”

“It’s fine. I want to see who your doctor is. I never got to meet him when I was visiting you. I wanted to thank him for saving my best friend.” Emma, opened the door, letting you out first, then shut it behind her.

“I think the person who needs to be thanked is that paramedic. He apparently stabilized me when I started to crash in that ambulance.” You let out a sigh and stopped before lowering yourself into the passenger side of your car. “Dean.”

“Yeah, he was a hunk. Wait—” Emma snapped her gaze towards you, her eyes wide. “You crashed in the ambulance?! I never knew about that—”

“I didn’t really crash. I passed out, and my blood pressure dropped. I never stopped breathing, or so I was told,” you explained. “It happens to some people when they are septic. They start to go into shock.” Emma nodded, backing the car out of your parking spot.

Emma had always been your ‘mom friend’, for as long as you had known her. She was the same age as you, but had a much more maternal personality. She always asked you if you were okay, just randomly, which would have been much more annoying if it wasn’t coming from her. You knew she meant well.

“Well, next time you get a cut that starts looking questionable, please go see a doctor. You have so many specialists.” Emma side-eyed you, showing she was serious now. “I’m sure one of them can help.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen my internist in a while. I don’t really like her.” You closed your eyes as you remembered the annoying little internist you had gone to when your symptoms started. Dr. McLeod. She was good at what she did, but lacked a softness in her bedside manner. So, you never really saw her.

“Was this doctor nice?” Emma asked. You tried to remember the young, tall man with the calming voice. He was nice, nicer than most doctors you had met. And, you had met a lot of doctors.

“Yeah, he was really nice. I was surprised that he was called in, and not my regular internist. He must have been the doctor on call. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m switching to him from now on.” You stared down at your wrapped finger. It didn’t hurt anymore, and the infection was almost gone by now.

About twenty minutes later, Emma pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office, and your stomach started to flutter. You had never had stitches before, and you were honestly worried that removing them would be painful. You didn’t remember the procedure, since you weren’t conscious for any point before it. But, the doctor explained that he needed to drain the wound in order for it to heal.

And, if all went according to plan, you would be getting those sutures out today.

Emma and you both approached the building. Emma stopped at the door, reading the four names on the glass front door.

Dr. Rowena McLeod

Dr. Castiel Novak

Dr. Sam Winchester

Donna Hanscum, P.A.

“These are some interesting names. Which one is your doctor?” Emma asked, ushering you into the sizable lobby.

“Dr. Winchester—” You froze as your eyes caught a familiar face on the other side of the front desk. Holy shit.

Dean, the paramedic who saved your life, was standing just behind the reception area, facing away from you. He was talking to your doctor, Dr. Winchester. What the heck was he doing there? Was there an emergency with one of the patients there? No, he looked too carefree to be there on business. And, when you studied closer, you realized that he wasn’t even in his work clothes.

The receptionist glanced up at you and smiled. “Ma’am, are you here for an appointment?” You turned to her and nodded.

“Uh, yeah. My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I have an appointment with Dr. Winchester.” The woman nodded and clicked on the computer in front of her.

“I’m sorry, your name one more time?” You frowned. Did they not save your appointment?

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You leaned against the counter and sighed.

“Oh, there you are. Yes, Miss Y/L/N, I’ll get you checked in.” You smiled and nodded, then raised your gaze back to where Dean was standing. As you expected, he was nowhere to be found.

“I thought I recognized that name,” a familiar, gravelly voice greeted you. You turned to your left and saw Dean standing right next to you.

“Hey, Dean!” you gasped. He remembered you, which touched you a little more than you thought it would.

“How are you feeling? You look a heck of a lot better than last time I saw you.” You chuckled.

“I’m so much better. You saved my life. Well, you and my doctor.” Dean beamed and he laughed.

“Well, it’s my job. But, you’re welcome.” He leaned against the counter, studying you. “Here for a recheck?” You nodded.

“Yeah, I’m getting my stitches out if luck is on my side. I’m not going into detail. It’s gross.” You blushed a little as you waved your wrapped finger in front of him.

“That finger looked pretty bad. I’m glad you were able to keep it.” Dean nodded towards your wrapped finger. “And I’m glad you’re looking as good as you are. You clean up very nicely.” He chuckled as you blushed a little harder.

“Thanks. Me too.” You peered around the office. “What are you doing here, anyway?” Dean glanced behind him.

“Just visiting family.” He smiled as you frowned at him in confusion. “Sam—Dr. Winchester is my younger brother. I like to stop by on my days off to say hello. Thought I’d bring him some lunch today.” Your lips curled at his sweetness. How the heck was someone this good looking so nice? There had to be a catch. He was some sort of serial killer or something.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the medical assistant called at the door. Emma stood from her chair and turned towards you.

You glanced up at Dean, who smiled. “Well, that’s me.” Dean nodded, glancing back at the medical assistant.

“Well, I’m glad I was able to see you after that scare,” Dean explained.

“Yeah, me too.” You nodded. You extended your hand to Dean. “Thanks, Dean. For everything.” He took your hand and shook it.

“You’re very welcome,” Dean whispered with a smile. Then, you turned to walk past him and to Emma waiting at the door. You peered over your shoulder just long enough to watch Dean lean over the counter and mutter something to the receptionist, before losing sight of him.

“Thank you, Dr. Winchester. That wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.” You smiled up at the tall, handsome doctor as he stood from his stool.

“No problem, Miss Y/N. Everything looks great, all things considering. Just make sure you keep that wound clean and dry for another week or so. I would keep it covered during the day, and unwrapped at night. That will keep it protected and let it heal.” You nodded.

“Will do, doc. Thanks.” He led you to the door, then sent you off to the front desk. Emma followed you close behind, turning over her shoulder as she drooled over your doctor.

You stopped at the counter to make another recheck appointment a week out, just to make sure everything was good to go. Once you had the date and time, you walked towards the door.

“Miss Y/L/N! I almost forgot! I have something here for you.” You turned back to the receptionist.

“Oh, did I forget my lollipop?” you teased, earning yourself a laugh from the young woman.

“There is a note left here for you. I was instructed to give it to you before you left.” She handed you a small, cardstock card with Dr. Sam Winchester, M.D. written on the front. It looked like an appointment card. But, on the back, there was a small message.

Y/N,

You look stunning today. Glad to see you well. Hope you’re well enough for coffee? Call or text me whenever you want. 650-555-8513.

-Dean

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as you read the note about five more times before looking up. Dean, the hunk of a paramedic that saved your life was asking you out? He was so sweet and smart, and into you?

You slipped the card into your purse, then headed towards Emma who was waiting by the door. This couldn’t be happening. Everything was working out too well.

There had to be a catch.

[princesstreaclefanfic]

Chapter Twenty Seven

Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Bella

I woke up alone in bed. I had a vague memory of Edward leaving in the early hours of the morning. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before he left and told me he loved me - I think I mumbled it back to him and then drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

I headed downstairs and made myself a cup of tea, curling up on the couch in the living room and flicking the television on, not really paying attention to it but enjoying the background noise it provided all the same.

Not long after I had woken up, Rose stumbled through, giving me a quick wave before she prepared herself a cup of tea and came and sat next to me, her eyes barely open.

We both sat in silence until we felt awake enough to talk.

"How did your talk with Jessica go?" I asked, turning my head to watch my cousin.

She smiled and sipped her tea. "She didn't drink from me so I guess pretty well." My lips turned up in a grin. "I told her I wanted to be part of Emmett's life for as long as he'll have me…" she trailed off and I noticed her looking at the floor.

Even if that means changing me… Her words whispered into my mind and I wasn't quite sure how to react.

Do you want to be a vampire? I couldn't bring myself to say the words out loud. Edward and I had had a similar conversation but I couldn't see me becoming immortal for a long while yet.

I don't know, B. Not right now… but maybe in the future. We've not been dating long but I don't want to be without him.

I reached across and took her hand in mine, squeezing it. I can't imagine being without Edward.

You really love him, don't you?

I nodded.

Emmett might not have to change you, I told her.

Rose quirked her eyebrows up and her face scrunched up in confusion.

Edward was telling me that there's a permanent blood bond that can be done. It stops ageing. I replayed the conversation we had had in my head, showing Rose exactly what he had said.

Is it weird that that seems more daunting than being turned into a vampire? I giggled because yes, it did seem slightly weird but I understood where she was coming from. The fact I might be able to hear Edward's thoughts made me nervous. I wasn't sure why but it made my stomach flutter.

Is Emmett asleep in your bedroom?

Rose nodded and we remained silent for a few moments longer.

"Come on," I spoke out loud. "Let's get breakfast done and then we can figure out what to do today."

"And I need to get my bathroom cleaned and do some work on my truck," Rosalie informed me. "It's starting to sound… unhealthy."

I laughed at her description. "Could you check mine too?" We both stood from the couch and went to the kitchen, ready to start breakfast. "A light keeps coming up on the dash."

"Which light?" Rose asked as she placed our now empty mugs into the sink.

"…the orange one…" Rose stared at me with exasperation. "I don't speak car like you and Jake do! Something lights up or it makes a strange noise and I tell one of you then it gets fixed. I don't actually need to know anything."

Rose chuckled. "I love you, B."

"I love you too, Rose."

It was moments like this that I knew I would look back on and appreciate. Here I was making breakfast with my best friend. There was a roof over our heads, we were safe and secure and I had the most wonderful boyfriend anyone could wish for. It made up for all the shit we had been through and would no doubt make up for all the other shit we would go through in the future.

***

I was sat on a stool in the garage as Rose looked at my car. The hood was open and she was cursing me.

"I can't believe you would actually drive home with the brake warning light flashing!"

"I didn't know it was the brake warning light." It was a weak defence but I knew where Rose was going with this.

"Well, you should have pulled over and either checked the manual or called me or Jake." She lifted her head from where it was in the bonnet of the car and shot me a glare. "You do realise that you could have died if the brakes weren't working, right?"

I sighed. "But I didn't. Don't get all dramatic."

"Dramatic? Dramatic!" Rose promptly shut her mouth and let out a deep breath. "I'm not going to argue with you about this." She looked me straight in the eye "But please don't go driving your car around when you have warning lights glaring at you."

"I'll try not to." Rose huffed. That wasn't the answer she wanted.

Rose turned from the car and grabbed a jack from under a workbench, using it to pump my car up so she could get underneath.

"There's a chance that it might just be a sensor fault," Rose told me as I heard metal against metal before she cursed quietly under her breath. "In that case, I'll get Jake to order the part and I can fit it."

Rose slid out from the car and jacked the car back down, returning the open bonnet.

My phone, which was on the side, began to vibrate so I checked the caller ID and picked up when I saw it was Jake.

"Hi Jake," I said cheerfully. "Everything alright?" I quickly realised everything wasn't alright when I heard faint sirens in the background.

"Not really," he sighed. I could just imagine him running a hand through his short black hair before pressing his fingers into his eyes. "Tyler thought he saw Maria, but he was the only one who could see her." Dread filled my stomach and my mouth went dry. "And every customer appears to have contracted a stomach bug or the flu since eating our food." He paused. "I don't know what's going on but Esme is arranging for Carmen to meet us tonight and talk about what's happening." He paused again. "Can you and Rose come over and read his mind?" His voice got quieter. "I'm not saying Tyler didn't see her but I just want to make sure…"

"Of course," I told him. "We'll do anything we can to help." Rose had stopped looking at the engine and was completely focused on me. "Do you want us to come over now?"

"No," Jake breathed. "It's mayhem down here. Ambulances are taking everyone off and Tyler is freaked out. He needs some time to calm down."

"Alright, Jake - I'll see you tonight then?"

"Yeah," Jake responded, sounding weary. "It'll probably be at Edward's after sundown but I'll text you and let you know."

"Ring us if you need us," I reminded him before he ended the call.

I didn't need to tell Rose what had just transpired, she'd heard it all in my head.

"I wonder if it was like when we saw Grandpa?"

"Jake and Esme couldn't see her. Edward and Emmett both saw Grandpa - I don't think this was a friendly visit."

Rose contemplated the situation for a minute. "It's got to be linked. Tyler's a fantastic chef; there's no way he'd poison that many people. Maria's got to have something to do with it."

I had a feeling she was right but for now, neither of us would be able to get answers. It seemed like Maria was going to be a problem not only in life but in death too.

***

Emmett drove Rose's truck up the driveway to Edward's house. We'd informed him of the situation when he awoke and his face had creased and he'd been fairly quiet since. Rose had asked him if everything was alright and he nodded and kissed her forehead.

Emmett helped us both out of the truck, opening the doors for us before we all headed inside.

The guards at the front door had nodded to us in greeting but other than that, they didn't move from their positions.

"Hello?" I called into the house, looking to see where Edward might be.

I didn't have to look long as he emerged from his office, dressing in a grey shirt with short sleeves, dark jeans and a pair of sneakers. As usual, he looked wonderful.

"Hello, love," he greeted. When he got to me, his arms wrapped around my waist and he placed a gentle kiss on may lips.

"Esme's rang and filled me in on the situation. Carlisle and her are on their way with Ethan. Tyler and Austin should be here soon and Carmen has to get home from work and get something before she comes here. Jasper may or may not turn up." He leaned in and kissed me again. "And Jake's running a patrol before he comes over."

"Everyone's sorted then?"

Edward nodded. "The sooner we can get this dealt with, the better."

"What do you think is going on?"

"I'm not sure," Edward's face creased. "It could be anything." I hated the fact that we didn't know.

"Edward?" Carlisle's voice called out as he and Esme entered through the front door. Edward and I turned to greet them. Carlisle had Ethan's diaper bag over his shoulder whilst Esme was holding a tired-looking Ethan in her arms. He was dressed in an adorable green top with a monkey on and jeans and sneaker. Carlisle had one arm around her waist as they approached us.

"Hi," we both greeted, watching as Ethan looked around. It occurred to me that this was probably one of the first times he had been in Edward's home.

"Hi," Ethan chimed back, placing his head on his mother's should and clutching her top with one hand.

"He missed his nap today," Esme informed us, her eyes shining with love when she looked at Ethan. "So he's not in the best of moods. Although it's a positive for me as when he gets tired he gets snuggly." She smiled and hugged Ethan to her.

"Are you a grumpy little boy?" Edward asked teasingly, his hand reaching out to tickle Ethan's side.

Little Ethan did not look impressed though. He seemed to glare at Edward from his mother's arm which provoked another round of laughter.

The five of us headed into the living room where Rose and Emmett were already sat down.

"Hi Ethan," Rose greeted, giving him a little wave. He did give her one back and Edward chuckled.

"Looks like I'm the only one in his bad books then."

Nessie walked into the room then, her face slightly red and her hair damp. "Sorry I didn't realise you were all here, I've just got out the shower."

Not long after, Tyler and Austin arrived followed by Jasper who demanded to know 'what the fuck was going on'.

Esme explained the situation to him and Tyler just sat quietly. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want anything to do with majick. He just wanted to go home.

When there was a lull in the conversation, Tyler spoke up.

"I'm not crazy. I know what I saw." His voice was even and quiet, Maria's face clear in my mind. He was replaying the scene in his head when he turned to me. "Tell them - tell them I'm not crazy." He was staring at me with such intensity I began to feel uncomfortable. "If you really can read minds tell them what I saw."

He was forcing the images now to the front of his mind, assaulting me with them. I could see her pale skin, the rotting flesh, the maggots as they dropped onto the ground, writhing and wriggling.

I opened my mouth to tell him that was enough. I believed him. I didn't need it forced onto me.

"Stop it." It wasn't my voice but Rose's. Tyler switched his attention to her. "Stop it now."

He continued to stare at her.

"We get it, Tyler. You saw Maria and now you're angry but don't force us to see the images."

"Why not?" His arms crossed over his chest and Austin shifted uncomfortably at his side. "I've had to see her twice now."

"That's not our fault."

"I never said it was." There was an undercurrent running through the room. Tyler seemed angry that he had been thrown into this supernatural lifestyle. He was angry that he was suffering whilst the rest of couldn't see her. He was angry that he had ever been introduced to the supernatural world.

I was waiting for an argument to erupt between them, but before one could break out every vampire in the room turned their heads at the same time towards the back garden. It was like it had been timed.

"What?" I immediately asked.

"Blood," Edward responded, his eyes fixed.

Nessie shook her head. "Jacob!" She was out the room like a shot, her hair flaming behind her. Edward and I stood too, Emmett walking to Edward's side. Jasper's fangs clicked down and his body tensed.

"Carlisle!" Nessie cried loudly from outside causing the blonde vampire to stand.

"Stay here," he told Esme, striding past everyone.

Edward's eyes darted from side to side and I knew he was listening to the conversation.

"Jake's been hurt - attacked." I looked at Rose and she stood with me, both of us venturing outside, Emmett and Edward hot on our heels.

There in the middle of the lawn was Jake in human form. Nessie had his head cradled in her lap and was whispering to him. Carlisle was knelt on the floor beside them, eyes scanning over his body.

It was only because of the moon I was able to make out the blood smeared across his body.

"What happened?" I whispered.

"I think he was attacked by wolves," Edward said quietly.

"It's got to be connected," Rose said. "Everything that's been happening. It has to be."

***

I watched as Nessie hovered anxiously by Jake, waiting for him to wake up. Carlisle had assured us nothing was terribly wrong, his body had just been through a lot of trauma and needed time to heal. He mostly had bite wounds from the wolves but they were starting to heal already. His body was covered in bruises and scratches that had yet to heal, even with his supernatural healing.

His foot had been broken but Carlisle had managed to set it in position and then just use thick bandages to secure it. It would do for now until Carlisle could get him a boot.

Edward wrapped his arm around my shoulder and gently stroked my arm through my shirt, sending my comfort without saying anything. I placed my hand on his leg and squeezed. Thank you.

The doorbell rang and Jasper left his position of leaning against the wall to answer it – no surprises, it was Carmen.

She came in and we explained what had happened, Esme recounting in more detail what had occurred at the diner as Jake began to stir.

He groaned and let out a deep breath, pushing himself up from the recliner Nessie and Carlisle had placed him on. Nessie had managed to pull his shorts on when he collapsed in the back garden but she had also put a blanket over his lap.

His eyes opened and he glanced around the room at us blearily, probably wondering what the hell was going on.

"Thank God you're alright," Nessie whimpered, standing next to him and holding her hands to her chest. I had a feeling it was to stop her from touching him.

"I feel like I've been hit by a train and then run over by a lorry."

Everyone watched as Nessie fussed over him and offered to get him a drink, another blanket and something to eat before he finally told he was fine.

Nessie's strange blush covered her cheeks and Jake pulled her to sit on the side of the recliner, wrapping his arm around her waist and squeezing.

"What happened, Jake?" Edward asked.

We all listened intently as Jake recounted his run-in with the wolves. I cringed when the memories entered my mind and from across the room Rose pushed a block into place, sparing me the gruesome images and feelings.

'Thank you' I mouthed. She smiled and we turned our attention back to Jake.

"They've never done that before – they usually keep their distance. But tonight… they were riled up." He moved his arm and winced, something Nessie didn't miss.

"Did you do anything differently?" Edward asked. "Did they have pups?"

Jake shook his head. "No – I didn't go anywhere near their den. This was something else. It was more than territorial."

Carmen bit her lip before voicing her question. "Did you see Maria at all?"

Jake shook his head once more. "No – it was just the wolves."

"When everyone was being sick at the bar, was Maria there then?"

Jake glanced nervously at Tyler who had yet to say anything and was staring ahead, his eyes unseeing.

"We didn't see her but Tyler said he could," Esme inputted. She was rocking slightly with a now sleeping Ethan in her arms.

"I did see her!" Tyler shouted, wincing slightly when Ethan shifted in Esme's arms

Esme glared at Tyler as Ethan turned his face and used his little hands to rub his eyes.

"Shh," Esme soothed him. "Go back to sleep, my sweet boy." Carlisle wrapped one arm around her, much like Edward had done to me, and used the other to stroke Ethan's head.

We were all silent for a moment, watching the little family before Esme spoke up.

"Any ideas, Carmen?"

"I have one, but… I don't know if it's the answer." She rummaged around in the bag she had brought with her and pulled out a small brown paper bag.

"Majick leaves a trail and it can be traced. Anyone who uses majick can be tracked. It's like an aura; it clings to them." She placed her hand into the bag and pulled out a turquoise coloured powder. It was a vibrant shade and reminded me of the coloured sand children sometimes played with.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing to Esme. She nodded. Carmen stood from the seat she had taken and walked over to them. She threw the powder over the three of them and instead of just falling, it became suspended in the air around Ethan and Esme, floating around them like butterflies.

That got Ethan's attention and he sat up, looking around and reaching for the powder that had now formed into balls.

When he couldn't grab it, he furrowed his brow and tried again, the balls passing through his hands as if they didn't even exist. With a pout and a deep sigh, he laid his back on Esme's shoulder and closed his eyes, earning a chuckle out of us all, even Jasper.

"See?" Carmen gestured. "Esme and Ethan have majick and this shows it. Carlisle doesn't so it doesn't hang around him." It was true. There were no turquoise coloured balls around Carlisle, in fact, there was a definitive line between him and Esme and Ethan with the balls siding with the latter two. "Turquoise is the colour it's meant to be. If someone puts a spell on another person or uses any kind of majick against them, it will change colour." She turned to Tyler and Austin. "I'm going to use the powder on you to see if someone might have put a spell on you that made you see Maria."

She walked over to them and did exactly what she had done to Esme, Carlisle and Ethan, throwing the powder over them and waiting to see what happened. Just as before, the turquoise powder formed balls of the same colour and danced around the two of them. It was rather magical to see.

Carmen's brow furrowed.

"Is that not a good thing?" I asked.

"I'm not sure." She walked closer to them and inspected them. "It means that there isn't a spell on Tyler. But then that means he did see Maria… but why only him?" These questions weren't meant to be answered, she was simply talking out loud.

"I told you I saw her!" Tyler shouted.

Nobody bothered to respond to him.

"I have an idea," Emmett's deep voice said from where he was stood. Since we had come back in, he had been leaning against the wall as Rose took a place on the couch. We all turned to look at him. "I think she's a draugr."

Carlisle's eyes shot up to meet Emmett's face. "You can't be serious."

Emmett nodded and Carlisle's next words sent a chill down my spine.

"Then we're in trouble."

Thank you for reading.

Thoughts? What do we think a draugr is?

[mary-magizoologist]

Dean in the Water | Part 2

Characters: Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester

Pairing: eventual Sam x Reader

Words: 1949

Summary: Sam, Dean and you go to a small town called Lake Manitoc to investigate a series of weird murders, and the only leads you have are the ones given by a kid named Lucas. Based on the third episode of the first season of the show.

Warnings: language, show level angst and violence.

A/N: This is a new part of my Series Rewrite. Hope you guys like it! Please press the heart and consider sharing, and leaving some feedback, it’s what keeps me going. This is not beta’d. All mistakes are mine.

Catch up

Dead in the Water - Part 2

You go to the local park and you find Andrea, sitting on a bench and watching Lucas who is a little bit further coloring and playing with toy soldiers.

“Can we join you?” you ask her.

She looks up at you and smiles politely. “I’m here with my son.”

“Oh. Mind if I say hi?” Dean asks walking over to Lucas.

“Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me,” she tells you.

Sam and you take sit next to her.

“I don't think that's what this is about,” Sam explains.

“Will, you, uh…” you look at Dean, “Excuse me.”

You jog until you’re next to Dean and you get to Lucas.

“Hey, Lucas,” you smile at him.

“How's it going?” Dean asks.

Dean kneel down in front of Lucas and you sit on the floor. Lucas doesn’t look up to you.

“Oh, I used to love these things,” Dean tells while picking up one of the little toy soldiers. He imitates guns and explosions, making you smile, then tosses the toy soldier down and chuckles.

Lucas was still not looking at you.

“Are… crayons more your thing?” you ask him.

“That’s cool,” Dean says, “Chicks dig artists. Right Y/N?”

“Uh, sure,” you scrunch up your face,

Lucas has a pile of drawings on the bench. Dean picks up a few and you take a look at them, one is a big swirl and another is the drawing of a red bicycle.

“Hey, these are pretty good,” Dean compliments him. “You mind if we sit and draw with you for a while?”

No answer.

You both pick up a crayon and move to grab a pad of paper.

“I'm not so bad myself,” he continues.

“Well, I actually suck at drawing,” you giggle.

Dean sits on the bench, you sit on the floor, and start drawing.

“You know, I'm thinking you can hear me,” Dean started, “You just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something really bad,” he takes a pause. “I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something.”

He suddenly stops talking, you look at him and he seemed pensive.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture of what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.”

“I believe you, too, Lucas,” you say to him. “When I was little, probably just a year or two older than you, I saw my mom dying. My life wasn’t the same ever since.”

He didn’t answer or look at Dean or you.

“Okay, no problem,” Dean said. “This is for you.”

He holds out to Lucas the picture he drew with stick figures.

“This is my family,” Dean explained, “That’s my dad. And that’s... That’s my mom That’s my geek brother. And that’s me,” he pointed at each person in turn.

Another pause.

“All right, so I'm a sucky artist. I'll see you around, Lucas,” he said leaving the paper down and standing up.

“This is me,” you told him, showing your drawing of a house and your stick figure family. “My mom and my dad. I lost him a few years back, too,” you trailed off.

Dean waited with you but you still got no answer from Lucas, so the two of you headed back to Sam and Andrea.

“Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident,” Andrea told Sam.

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” Dean said and Andrea nodded in response.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam asked.

“That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she answered.

“That can't be easy for either of you,” you tell her.

“We moved in with my dad,” she explains. “He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw…” she makes a pause.

“Kids are strong,” Dean reassures her. “You'd be surprised what they can deal with.”

“You know, he used to have such life,” she tells. “He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” she stops and changes the subject when Lucas walks up to you carrying paper. “Hey, sweetie.”

He doesn’t look at either of you, just stands between you and Dean and hands him a drawing.

“Thanks,” Dean thanks him. “Thanks, Lucas.”

He heads back to the bench and the four of you share a look. You peek at the picture and it’s a drawing of the Carlton House.

Sam and you were driving around town to check on the Carlton’s.

“I refuse to believe there is lake monster out there,” Sam argued with you.

“I’m just saying,” you defended, “I mean, in our experience, if there’s a legend about a mysterious monster, it’s because there has to be something about it.”

“Yeah, but besides a weird picture here and there, there’s no lore.”

“Come on,” Sammy!” you chuckle, “How can you be skeptical? We deal with weird things that aren’t supposed to exist every day.”

“I stick to the lore…” he trailed off and you looked through the window when you saw an ambulance outside of the house.

“We should check what happened,” you told him and he parked outside.

Dean was in the motel room waiting for the two of you. When you got in he was sitting on the bed.

“So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie,” Sam states, walking to sit down next to Dean. You throw yourself on the other bed.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks.

“We just drove past the Carlton house,” you told him. “There was an ambulance, we asked some questions. Will Carlton is dead.”

“He drowned?”

“In the kitchen sink,” you nod.

“What the hell?” Dean asks, you shrug and Sam shakes his head. “So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.”

“Yeah, but what?” Sam inquiries.

“I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon?” Dean wondered, “I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake,” Sam states.

“Yeah.”

“That would explain why it's upping the body count,” you added propping yourself on your elbows. “If the lake is draining, it means it'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is and whatever it wants, it's running out of time.”

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere,” Dean mentions standing up.

“This is gonna happen again soon.”

He sits down on a chair and starts putting on his boots.

“And we do know one other thing for sure,” Sam says, “We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton.”

“Yeah, it took both his kids,” Dean added.

“We’ve also found out that Lucas’ dad, Chris, was Bill Carlton’s godson,” you tell him.

“Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit,” Dean says.

The three of you drove to the Carlton’s House. You walked around the house to the lake and you saw Bill sitting on a bench on the dock.

“Mr. Carlton?” Sam calls.

He looks up, and the Sam, Dean and you approach him.

“We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind,” you tell him.

“We're from the Department—” Dean starts.

“I don't care who you're with,” Bill cuts him off, “I've answered enough questions today.”

“Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you?” Sam started, “You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death—we think there might be a connection to you or your family.”

“My children are gone,” Bill said, “It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please.”

”What do you think?” Same asks while the three of you head back to the car.

”I think that poor man’s been through hell and beyond…” you make a pause, ”I also have a feeling there’s something he’s not telling us.”

Sam leans on the Impala. “So now what?”

You notice Dean going still next to you.

“What is it?” Sam asks him.

“Huh,” he mumbles, looking at the Carlton house. “Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something.”

He pulls out the picture Lucas brought him, which is of the Carlton house. Dean looks at Sam and you.

The three of you go to Andrea’s house to talk to her. Dean thought we should talk to Lucas to learn something more about what was going on.

“I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea,” Andrea says.

“We just need to talk to him,” Dean says.

You get inside the house.

“Just for a few minutes,” Dean asks-

“He won't say anything,” she states. “What good's it gonna do?”

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt,” Sam said. “We think something's happening out there.”

“My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all,” she said.

“If that's what you really believe, then we'll go,” Dean stated. “But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here... please let me talk to your son,” he pleaded.

Andrea lead the three of you to Lucas’ room. Through the doorway you saw him laying on the floor with toy soldiers standing around him, he was coloring. Dean looked at you and you nodded to him and entered the room.

“Hi, Lucas, “ you smiled down at him crouching. Dean mimicked your movement.

“Hey, Lucas,” Dean greeted him, “Remember us?”

You took a look at the drawings and noticed he made two more of a red bicycle. You frowned.

“You know,” continued Dean, “We, uh, we wanted to thank you for the last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.”

Lucas is drawing a person in the water. Dean grabbed the house picture and puts it down in front of Lucas.

“How did you know to draw this?” He asked. “Did you know something bad was gonna happen?”

“Maybe you could nod yes or no for us?” you added, but Lucas didn’t answer and kept coloring. “You’re scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something really bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.”

“I saw my mom dying, too,” you told him, “My dad picked me up from school and we got to our house. When we got in, we saw something really bad happening to her, and we couldn’t do anything to help her. Also, people didn’t believe us. I was really scared, I couldn’t trust many people except my dad. I tried to be brave, too, for him and for my mom.”

Lucas dropped his crayon and looked up at you and Dean. He hands you a picture of a white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap and a red bicycle in front of a wooden fence.

Lucas drops his crayon and looks up at Dean. He hands him a picture of a white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap and red bicycle in front of a wooden fence.

“Thanks, Lucas.”

Sam, Dean and you are in the Impala. Sam is holding the church picture, you are looking through the car window, you felt exhausted already.

“Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died,” Dean pointed out.

“There are cases,” Sam began to mention, “going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies.”

“Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?” Dean stammered, “I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.”

Sam lifted his hands in the air in surrender. “All right,” he exhaled, “We got another house to find.”

“The only problem is there are about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone,” Dean grunted.

You lifted your head from the window and leaned against the front seat, looking at the pictures in Sam’s hand. “See this church?” you added, pointing at the drawing with your finger, “I bet there’s less than a thousand of those around here.”

“Oh, the kid thinks she’s so smart,” Dean teased.

“You bet your ass I am,” you took your tongue out and smirked at him.

There was a small silence between the three of you before Sam started talking. “You know, um…,” he made a pause to think. You looked at him. “What you said about Mom… You never told me that before.”

“It's no big deal,” Dean dismissed it. Sam kept his gaze on Dean pursing his lips, waiting for his brother to say something else. “Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?” Dean asked, faking annoyance.

Sam looked back at the front smiling, and then he turned back to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking at you with his puppy eyes.

“Yeah, I am,” you smiled at him and then frowned. “Why?”

“You haven’t talked about your mom’s incident in ages, I just-” he made a pause, raising his eyebrows, “I just thought you might wanna talk about it.”

“No, no,” you stammered, “I’m fine, really,” you nodded at him.

“‘Kay,” he smiled, nodding back at you and looking back at the road.

You approach a white church which seemed to be the one from Lucas’ drawing. Dean holds up the picture and looks at it, you stand behind him, staring at it and trying to compare it with the scenario in front of you. There’s the church on one side and a yellow house right next to it and a wooden fence near the house. Sam looks at the two of you, then the three of you look up at the church and cross the street, walking to the house.

You knocked on the door and an old lady, Mrs. Sweeney, opened the door letting you in.

“We're sorry to bother you, ma'am,” Dean started. “But does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap,” he motioned with his hand, “Has a red bicycle.”

“No sir,” she answers head falling and shoulders sagging, “Not for a very long time,” she adds with a quivering voice. She looks up at us with watery eyes. “Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now,” she mentions, sighing.

She looks to the something on the side and you turn your head to follow her gaze. There’s a picture of a kid, who you assume is Peter, on the side table.

Mrs. Sweeney sighs before starting to speak again. “The police never… I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.”

You look to the other side when Sam points out a number of toy soldiers on a table.

Sam points out to Dean a number of toy soldiers on a table.

“Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying,” expressed Mrs. Sweeney.

Dean takes a glance at Sam.

“Did Peter disappear from here?” you ask her, ”From this house?” you add.

“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up,” she explained with a broken voice.

Dean picks a picture that was stuck on a mirror frame. There are two boys in the picture, one of them was Peter with a bicycle. He turns it around to check the back.

“Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy,” he read out loud.

Dean, Sam and you are driving to Bill Carlton’s house.

Sam exhales loudly. “Okay,” he started, “This little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.”

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” said Dean.

“And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished,” you mention.

“So what if Bill did something to Peter?” Dean asked.

“What if Bill killed him?” you add.

“Peter's spirit would be furious, it'd want revenge. It's possible,” he states.

Next Part

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[takemetotheriotofthestars]

Toy Soldiers (Dead in the Water S1, Ep3, Pt2)

Supernatural Season 1 Episode 3 Part 2

Warnings: Minor character death. Words: 2,553

Masterlist

The sound of children’s laughter and the sight of them playing brought a smile to your face, at least there was some innocence left in this world. You and the Winchester’s approached Andrea who sat on a bench, watching her son color from a distance. “Can we join you?” Sam asks, Andrea looks at the three of you, shielding her eyes from the sun’s glare. “I'm here with my son.” She says, gesturing to the boy coloring. “May I speak with him?” You ask, she nods and you walk over to him. “Hey buddy, how’s it going?” He doesn’t look up from his paper, you crouch next to him and eye the toy soldiers on the bench. You smiled at the small figures holding weapons. “Oh, I remember these” You laugh a bit, messing around with the toys “My friend’s used to play with these all the time.” You set the toy down and looked at Lucas. “Your drawings are pretty good. Are you going to become an artist when you’re older?” Lucas continues to draw, you look at the construction paper of drawings in a pile. “Can I take a look?” You reach for a couple of the papers and observe the drawings. The first one was of a black swirl and the second one was of a red bicycle, you put them back into the pile and smile at the boy. “These are cool, can I draw with you?” You pick up a crayon and a piece of paper, beginning to draw. “You know what I’m thinking?” You ask, not looking up from your work in progress. “I think that you can hear me and you just don’t want to talk. I don’t know what happened to your dad, but it had to be something really bad. You know, when I was a bit younger than you, I saw something.” You paused as you thought back to the day you walked through the doors to your house and saw your parents, you gently shook your head as you continued to draw. “Well...maybe you don’t think anyone will listen to you or believe you, but, I want you to know..that I will. You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to, just draw me a picture.” You set down the crayon and slide the drawing over to Lucas. “That’s for you, you see this is Sam” You point to a tall stick figure with long brown hair “and that’s Dean” Your finger moves to a slightly shorter stick figure with a trench coat. “And that’s me.” You point to the shortest person. “They’re my best friends, they’re like family to me even though we’re not related. But, we don’t have to be siblings to be family.” You stand up and smile at Lucas even though he wasn’t looking. You turn around and head back to Andrea and the boys. “Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident.” Andrea says, you give her an apologetic smile. “Yeah, we heard. Sorry.” Dean says, he raises an eyebrow at you and you shake your head in return. “What are the doctors saying?” Sam asks, Andrea presses her lips together before sighing. “That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress.” “That can't be easy. For either of you.” Sam says, you nod your head in agreement as you stuff your hands into your pockets. “We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw…” She bites her lip, pausing. “Kids are strong.” You say, smiling towards her “You'd be surprised what they can deal with.” “You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” She cuts herself off and smiles at her son standing behind you. You turn around. “Hey sweetie.” Lucas hands you a drawing before walking back to the bench. “Thank you, lucas.” You say, you look at the paper in your hands, it was of a house. You hand the drawing to Dean, he looks at Sam with a raised eyebrow. *** Dean sat on the motel bed across from the one you were sitting on. Your head was in your hands as you watched Sam walked through the motel door and closes it behind him. “So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie.” Sam says, you scrunch your eyebrows together as you sat up and stared at him. “What do you mean?” You and Dean ask in sync. Sam sat next to Dean on the bed, you stood up and sat on the other side of the younger brother. “I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.” Sam says, you open and close your mouth but come up with nothing for a few moments. “Drowned?” You ask, Sam nods. “Yep. In the sink.” He confirms, you rub your hands together. “What the hell? So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.” Dean says. “Well, yeah.” You say “But what exactly?” “I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source.” Dean drags his hand down his face before letting out a sigh. “The lake.” You and Sam say in sync. “Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time.” You say, biting your lip. “And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean stood up, walking over to a chair and sat down in it. “This is gonna happen again soon.” He says. “And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton.” Sam’s leg bounced up and down. “Yeah, it took both his kids.” Dean agrees. “And I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris—Bill Carlton's godson.” Sam adds, you stood up and grabbed your coat you laid on the bed earlier. “Well, let’s go pay Mr. Carlton a visit boys.” *** The boys and you approached Mr. Carlton who was sitting on a bench on the dock. “Mr. Carlton?” Sam asks, the man looks up, watching as the three of you walked closer. “We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind.” “We're from the, the Department—” dean starts but get’s cut off. “I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today.” Carlton says, turning away to look out at the lake once more. “Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death—we think there might be a connection to you or your family.” You say, stepping forward. “My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please.” He says, voice cracking. You sigh as you turn around, following the boys back to the car. “What do you guy’s think?” Sam asks, as you slid into the back seat and closed the door behind you. Dean looks at the house. Sam and him sat in the front seat. “Probably been through hell, and he’s definitely not telling us something.” You say. “So now what?” Sam asks, you shrug as you and Dean froze, staring at the house in front of you. “What is it?” Dean unfolds the drawing and holds it up. “Huh.” Dean says, your eyes flicker between the drawing and the house. “Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something.” You say, looking at the two men with a small smile spreading across your face from the discovery you and Dean made. *** “I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea.” Andrea says, she stood in the doorway to her house. You gave her a pleading look. “Please, just a few minutes.” You say, she bites the inside of her cheek before opening the door wider, stepping aside to let you and the boys in. You walk through the door with the boys following behind, Andrea shuts the door behind you. “He won't say anything. What good is it gonna do?” She asks. You look around for the house for lucas. “Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there.” Sam says. “My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all.” “If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son.” You said, she looked away and sighed before leading you upstairs to her son. Once you reached his room, you knocked gently on the door. Lucas was quietly coloring with toy soldiers next to him. You walked towards him and crouched next to the boy. “Hey there, remember me?” You smile at him, you looked at the two new drawings of red bicycles. “I wanted to thank you for the drawing you gave me. But, the thing is buddy, I need your help.” You looked at the drawing that he was currently working one. It was of a person drowning in water. You took out the drawing Dean handed you earlier and unfolded it, placing the picture next to Lucas. “How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me.” Lucas doesn’t look up from his work. “You're scared. It's okay. I understand. When I was younger than you by a couple of years, something happened to my parents and I was scared too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you.” You paused and glanced down at the drawing he continued to work on. “But, everyday when I wake up since that day, I can’t help but feel like my parents want me to be brave; and maybe, your dad want’s you to be too.” Lucas dropped his crayon and looked at you as he handed you a drawing of a  white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap with a red bicycle in front of a wooden fence. “Thank you Lucas.” You say, smiling at the boy as he continued to draw. *** “Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died.” Dean comments as he drove, Sam held the church drawing. You stared at the drawing of the boy. “There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies.” Sam replies. “Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.” You say. “All right, we got another house to find.” Sam says. “The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone.” Dean adds, Sam looked at the drawing in his hand. “See this church?” He held it up for you to see better “I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here.” “Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart.” Dean says, you laugh. “Jealous are you?” You comment, Dean doesn’t reply but continues to drive. After a few minutes of silence, Sam breaks it. “You know, um…” He says, catching your attention. “What you said about your parents….You never told me that before.” It was true, over the million phone calls and quick emails you and Sam sent to each other, you have never told him what you thought your parents wanted for you. You haven’t even told Dean or John. “It's no big deal.” You say, shrugging. “It’s okay, it never really came up anyways..” You look at Sam, he gave you a sad look as Dean glanced at you in the rearview mirror. “Quit staring at me like I’m some kicked puppy, Sam. It’s fine.” He looked away. *** You and the boy’s exit the Impala, Sam held up the picture of the church and looked to the left of it. There was a yellow house with a fence. Without any hesitation, you cross the street with the Winchester’s following in tow. After some talking to the old women, you and the boy’s enter the house, Mrs. Sweeny sat across from the three of you, who sat on a couch together. You were squished between the two brothers. “We're sorry to bother you, ma'am, but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle.” Dean says, the lady gives a sad smile to the three of you. “No sir. Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now.” She sighs and glances to a photo next to her of a kid. “The police never—I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” You look down at the toy soldiers on the coffee table in front of you. “Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying.” You give her an apologetic smile as Dean glances at you and his brother. “Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” Dean asks, you wanted to elbow him in the ribs for his question but yet, you needed answers; it was part of the job. “He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up.” She answered, you pick up the picture frame, there were two boys, one of them were her son and the other was someone you didn’t recognize until you turned over the frame and read the words written in cursive. “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy.” You read out loud before setting it back down and smiling at Mrs.Sweeny. *** “Okay” You say, Dean drove towards the Carlton house and Sam sat in the front seat. “ this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.” Sam nods “Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean adds. “And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished.” Sam says, you bit your knuckles. “So what if Bill did something to Peter?” You say. “What if Bill killed him? “Peter's spirit would be furious, I would be too. It'd want revenge. It's possible.” You say, you rubbed your face with your hands and let out a sigh. *** Dean pulls in front of the Carlton house, all of you exit the car and walk towards  the house but stop once you heard an engine roaring behind the house. You make your way around only to see Bill on his boat, driving deeper into the lake.  You and the boys run to the dock, yelling for Mr. Carlton to turn around. “Mr. Carlton! You need to come back! Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!” You yell at the top of your lungs. “Mr. Carlton!” Sam yells, you gasped as you watched the boat get flipped over by some invisible force. Bill never comes out of the water.

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[nessywinchester]

Not Broken - Part 1

Paramedic!Dean Winchester x Reader (AU)

Warnings: medical emergency, continuous mention of chronic illness, mention of bodily functions/fluids, probably some medical discrepancies. 

Word Count: 1,146

A Note from Nessy: Thanks for reading! I want to start off by saying that a lot of these instances (mainly medical) come from personal instances in my own life. Chronic illness is rough. Take care of yourselves. Please let me know what you think! Sorry, but for now, there is no tag list for this series.

Part 2

“911, what’s your emergency?” you heard a muffled voice echo around you. It sounded like it was coming from a speaker, from a cell phone maybe? Who knew? You were just trying to figure out where you were. 

That’s when a familiar, muffled voice answered the question. 

“My friend, she collapsed! She has medical issues and is taking some sort of new medication. She had a bit to drink, and now she’s not answering me when I talk to her!” your best friend rambled. There was desperation in her voice, but you couldn’t seem to follow the direction it was coming from. “She just leaned out of her chair and fell unconscious—” Her words started to warp together as you tried to move, but nothing was responding. Your legs were stiff and your arms throbbed, probably from falling out of your chair. The tile floor beneath you was cold, causing your already weakened joints to ache even more.

Voices drifted in and out of range as you closed your eyes again. Your whole body hurt much more than usual. You were hot, and cold, and sweating, and shaking? It all just seemed so out of control.

“Emma—” you muttered for your friend, but couldn’t see her well. You heard her footsteps approach her, but still couldn’t figure out which side she was coming from. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. Help is on the way. I’m right here.” Something smoothed over your hair, probably her hand in some sort of effort to calm you. But, at this point, everything what just fuzzy, and you were oddly… calm? 

“Emma, I—” Without warning, you threw up everything. Breakfast, lunch, the two beers you had sipped over the past few hours. But, weirdly, the instant it all came up, everything seemed a little but clearer. You could make out the shape of Emma to your left, holding you up a little as you hovered over the massive pile of puke to your right. 

This wasn’t the new medication. You knew that. If it was, this would have happened four months ago when you started it. No, this was something else. You had felt like crap for the last few days, but that wasn’t totally abnormal considering your autoimmune disease. 

Just as another wave of nausea hit you, you heard the sound of sirens in the distance. You squeezed your eyes shut, then threw up again in the same spot. When you were done, Emma reached under your arms and dragged you onto the carpeted living room, closer to the door. Your vision was a little better now, but you were still incredibly dizzy. 

“Y/N, hey, do you know what’s going on?” She questioned as she held you against her on the floor. You nodded slowly.

“I threw up,” was all you were able to get out. You turned you head a little to look at her. She was crying, which made your stomach churn even more. “No,” you muttered, but you just didn’t have the energy to say much more.

The next second, a man entered the unlocked door and rushed to your side. You could see a redheaded woman following them with a gurney.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” a low voice greeted you from your left side. You turned to the men kneeling beside you and blinked hard. “What’s your name?” he asked rather calmly.

“Y/N,” you mumbled. “Y/F/N Y/L/N.” 

“Okay, Y/N. My name in Dean. Do you remember what happened?” He was rummaging in a bag beside you and lifted what looked like a blood pressure cuff. Then, he grabbed a thermometer and rested it on his leg. His eyes flicked up at you every couple of seconds. 

“I was drinking.” You paused and swallowed another wave of nausea. Dean wrapped the blood pressure cuff around your bare arm. “I felt sick, and got worse.” You were pleased that you were able to talk a little more now, and your vision was quite a bit clearer.

“How do you feel now?” Dean asked. He grabbed the thermometer and grazed it over your forehead to your ear. 

“Hot, cold, nauseous.”

“Hmph.” Dean studied the thermometer. “Well, you have a pretty high fever, and your blood pressure is pretty low.” There was a sense of distress in his voice. “Y/N, let’s get you loaded up onto the gurney here and get you down to the hospital. Sound good?”

You just stared as another chill rushed over your skin. You could feel your shirt actually sticking to your chest and shoulders as you leaned in an effort to lift yourself. 

“Hey, hey. Slow down sweetheart,” Dean instructed. “Charlie and I will help you up.” As he said that, you felt a thick, muscular arm curl under your shoulder and latch around your arm. A small arm did the same on your other side a moment later.

“Alright, one, two—” And you were up before you could gain any footing. Your heels dragged back few feet until your butt met the squashy padding of the gurney. “There you go,” the redhead, Charlie, huffed. 

Once you were buckled in and secure, Charlie pushed you into the back of the ambulance. Dean followed shortly after, taking a seat beside you. You watched out the back as Emma jumped into her car and prepared yourself to follow you to the hospital.

“So,” Dean huffed as Charlie started the ambulance’s engine. “How long have you been feeling sick for?”

You leaned your head back and sucked in a breath. “A few days.” You closed your eyes as nausea built up again. “Three or four maybe.” Your vision was getting worse. Shit. You just hoped your weren’t going to puke in the ambulance. 

“Do you have any new injuries?” The questions caught you off guard. As a matter of fact, you did. You had sliced yourself placing paper into the printer at work just over a week before. But, it wasn’t something you put much thought into. You cut yourself at work all the time. And, being someone with an autoimmune disease, your injuries didn’t always heal nicely.

Without opening your eyes, you lifted your right index finger and pointed up. Just below your nail, there was a paper cut, no wider than a pencil eraser. Yeah, it had gotten infected, and you had started taking some antibiotics your doctor gave you to have around just in case. It still hurt like hell, but you thought it was getting better.

“Oh, wow.” Dean’s voice was soft, almost like a breath. “Y/N, that looks really infected.” His voice sounded like it was coming from everywhere, and echoed in your suddenly sensitive ears. You grimaced while your stomach churned and sloshed. The round light on the other side of your eye lid dimmed as Dean’s voice started to fade. And, within seconds, your body slumped everything was black.