#sam copeland | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

layce2015 · 1 year ago

Text

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Fallen Idols

Masterlist pt 1

Masterlist pt 2

*(y/n)'s POV*

"So, what's with this job?" Sam asked Dean as we drive down the long empty road. "Dude suffers a head-on collision in a parked car? I'd say that's worth checking out." Dean said. "Yeah, definitely, uh, but, uh, we got bigger problems, don't you think?" I asked Dean, curiously. "I'm sure the apocalypse'll still be there when we get back." Dean said and I shake my head.

"Right, yeah, but I mean, if—if the Colt is really out there somewhere—" Sam said but Dean shakes his head. "Hey, we've been looking for three weeks, we got bupkis." Dean said. "Okay. But Dean...I mean, if we're gonna—ice the Devil—" Sam said, a bit cautious, but Dean yells. "This is what we're doing! Okay? End of discussion."

Sam looks away and sighs. "It's just that this is our first real case, back at it together. You know, I, I think we oughta ease into it, put the training wheels back on." Dean said. "So you think I need training wheels." Sam said, questioning. "No, 'we'. 'We' need training wheels, you, me and (y/n). As a team. Okay?" Dean said and Sam nods. "Okay." he said.

"Man, I really want this to be a fresh start, you know? For all of us." Dean said and we all look at each other before Sam nods again. "Okay." Sam said.

Canton, Ohio

The boys and I, wearing suits, show our FBI badges to the sheriff once we enter his office. "Agents Bonham, Page and Copeland." Dean said and the sheriff shakes our hands. "Rick Carnegie. Good to know ya. So you're here on account of Cal Hawkins' death?" he asked us. "That's right." Sam said.

"Well, 'fraid you came a long way for nothing. We already booked the guy that did it." Rick said and the boys and I frown at each other. "I'm sorry; who do you think did it?" I asked him.

Rick takes us to the interview room and has us watching a video. "Cal? Is something wrong?" a guy asked as he comes up to Cal, only to see his head smashed into the windshield. "Oh my God, Cal. Cal!" the guy shouts, frantically, and the video cuts to static. Rick shakes his head, then switches off the TV and drops the remote on the table and turns to us.

"Sicko taped his own handiwork." Rick tells us and we give him a look of confusion. "I don't follow." Sam said. "It was Jim Grossman that killed Cal." Rick said. "Wait, what?" Dean asked. "Well, he was the only one on the scene for miles." Rick said. "They were best friends." I pointed out.

"Most violent crimes are committed by someone close to the victim." Rick said. "And how exactly did Jim slam Cal into a windshield with all the force of an eighty-mile-per-hour crash?" Dean asked him and Rick blinks. "Drugs, maybe?" he suggests, weakly, and Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Look, you know this ain't brain surgery! Whatever it looks like, that's what it usually is. It's simple." Rick said. "Simple. Right." I said, a bit of sarcasm in my voice, then I glance over at the boys. "Right. Um, if you don't mind, we'd like to speak to Jim Grossman anyway." Sam asked.

Later, Jim sits at a table, across from Sam, as Dean and I stand behind Sam. "I was in the house when it happened, I didn't even see it." Jim explains. "For argument's sake, say we believe you." Dean said. "Why would you? The cops didn't." Jim grumbles. "Well we're not your typical cops." I said. "Please, just tell us what you saw." Sam pleads and Jim sighs before he speaks again.

"It's not what I saw, it's what I heard. Tires squealing, glass breaking." he said and he sighs again. "It was the car that did it." he said and I raise my eyebrows. "The car?" Sam asked, confused "I mean, I heard about the curse, but, I just thought it was a load of crap." Jim said.

"Curse, what do you—what do you mean, curse?" Dean asked. "The car. Little Bastard." Jim said and my jaw drops. "Li—Little Bastard? As in the Little Bastard?" I asked, astonished. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, uh, what's Little Bastard?" Sam asked as he turns to us. "It's James Dean's car. It's the one he was killed in." Dean said.

"Yeah, that's the one. Cal had been looking for it for years. I mean, hell, we both had. But he found it first." Jim said and Dean leans closer to Sam. "Oh, we are definitely checking this out." he whispers.

Dean walks around and inspects Little Bastard with awe, careful not to touch, and honestly I was admiring the car as well. The windshield was bloodstained and had a piece missing where Cal's head was. "So, what, this is, like, Christine?" Sam asked and Dean and I shake our heads.

"Christine is fiction. This—This is real." Dean said. "Okay. Enlighten me." Sam said and I roll my eyes. "Well after James Dean died, his mechanic bought the wreckage, and he fixed it up. And it repaid him by...Falling on him." I explained. "And Tony McHenry was killed when it locked up on the racetrack. I mean, death follows this car around like exhaust. Nobody touches it and comes away in one piece." Dean added and Sam hums at this.

"Then, in nineteen-seventy, it vanished off the back of a truck. Nobody's ever seen it since." I said and Sam nods as Dean continues to look at the car. "I'm telling you, guys, if this—if this car is Little Bastard, I will bet you dollars to donuts it's what killed the guy." Dean said.

"So how do we find out?" Sam asked. "Cal matched the VIN number, but the only real way to know is the engine number." Dean replied and Sam nods. "I'm guessing the engine number—?" Sam asked, trailing the on the question. "On the engine. Yeah." I said then we take our jackets off and the boys had their sleeves rolled, all of us staring at Little Bastard with trepidation.

"You want me or (y/n) to do it?" Sam asked Dean. "No..No, no, I've—I've got it." Dean said then he starts to address Little Bastard. "Okay, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you, so...don't hurt me." he said and he lies down on a roller board with a pencil in his mouth, then rolls himself under the car.

He was under there for a bit and I could've sworn i heard the car shudder. Sam then kneels down to look at Dean. "Need a flashlight?" Sam asked him. "No. Don't...do anything, just go away." I hear Dean say, which he sounded a bit startled.

"You—uh, okay." Sam asked. "Don't speak. All right? In fact, don't even look at her, she might not like it." Dean said and Sam stands back up. He looks over at me and huffs out a breath while I shrug.

Then Dean slides out from under the car, exhaling deeply, then stands up quickly. He composes himself, then hands Sam the number. "Find out who owned it. Not just the last owner, you gotta take it all the way back to nineteen-fifty-five." Dean tells him. "That's a lot of research." Sam said to him. "Well, (y/n) can help you." Dean said and he walks away.

It took us a few hours, but Sam and I were able to track down the history of the car. Dean hadn't returned so I called him. "Hey, sweetheart." Dean answered. "Hey. Took us a while, but we traced all the car's previous owners." I said then I put him on speaker so Sam could hear.

"Any of 'em die bloody?" Dean asked. "Nope. In fact—" I said but then I heard the sound of someone playing pool. "Dean, are you in a bar?" I asked him. "No, I—I'm—I'm in a restaurant." Dean said then I hear a female voice say. "Here's your beer."

"Thanks." Dean said and Sam and I share a look, which made Sam smile a bit. "That happens to have a bar." Dean adds. "We've been working our asses off here." Sam said. "Hey, world's smallest violin, pal, I spent the afternoon up Christine's skirt. I needed a drink." Dean said. "Actually, you didn't." I said.

"Meaning?" Dean asked. "The car's first owner was a cardiologist in Philadelphia; drove it 'til he died in nineteen-seventy-two." Sam said. "So you're saying?" Dean asked. "That Porsche is not, nor has it ever been, James Dean's car. It's a fake Little Bastard." I said.

"Well then what was it that killed the guy?" Dean asked. "Good question." Sam said as I scratch my head.

The next day, the boys and I enter the home of a Mr Hill as we heard he was murdered. We entered the office area to see Rick and a forensic squad inside and Rick was giving orders. "I want you to use a, a fine-tooth comb. The evidence is here, we just gotta find it." Rick ordered.

"Heard you got another weird one." Dean said and Rick turns to us. "Uh, well, it's a—it's a little strange on the surface, I admit, but, uh...you know, once you—you look at the facts..." he stammers. "William Hill died from a gunshot wound to the head. No gun, no gunpowder, no bullet." Sam said as Rick looks at us, worried.

"Nope. Nothing strange about that." I said, shrugging, with sarcasm. "Well there's gotta be a reasonable explanation. There always is." Rick said. "Well what's your reasonable explanation?" Dean asked him. Rick looks around cautiously for a moment and whispers. "Professional killer."

"Come again?" Sam asked. "Well, CIA, NSA, one o' them trained assassins, like in Michael Clayton." Rick said and the boys and I gape at him. "Right." Dean said then he looks over at me and Sam. "You're welcome to look around, but—but these guys don't leave fingerprints." Rick tells us.

"Mind if we talk with the witness?" Sam asked him. "Be my guest. She's not making any sense! And she's not making any sense in Spanish either." Rick said and I nod, slowly. "Right." I said.

We walk out and see Consuela sitting on a wooden bench, wrapped in a blanket, talking to an officer and sobbing. "No puedo vivir aquí. Necesito mi familia. Me voy ahora. Me voy a la casa. No—me voy a la casa en El Salvador ahora." she cries to the officer as we walk up to her.

"Consuela Alvarez?" Dean asked. "Yes?" she asked as she raises her head to us. "FBI." Dean said as we show her our badges then the officers leave. "Now, uh, you said you saw something in the professor's house. Right? Something in the window?" Dean asked her.

"Estaba sacando la basura. Imiré por la ventana y vi al hombre que mató al Señor Hill!" She explains and Sam kneels in front of her. "Uh, Señora Alvarez. Cálmese, por favor. Uh—" Sam said the he looks at us, thinking. "Uh, díganos lo que vio?" He asked and Dean and I grin. "Nice." said Dean. "Freshman Spanish." Sam said, shrugging, then he turns back to Consuela.

"Era alto. Muy alto. Y llevaba el abrigo negro largo y tenía bigotes." She said and Sam glances between me, Dean and Consuela as he translates. "Okay, uh, a tall man, very tall. With a long black coat and a—" he said then he gestures at his chin. "A beard?" he asked and Consuela nods. "Beard." he said.

"Y un sombrero." Consuela adds. "Dude was wearing a sombrero?" Dean asked. "Uh, a hat, not a—a—" Sam said as he gestures near his head. "No, no, no, un sombrero alto." she said. "A tall hat?" Sam asked. "Oh, like a top hat." I said and Consuela nods. "Un sombrero alto." She said and she gestures above her head. "Muy alto!" she said.

"What, you mean like a—like a stovepipe hat." Dean said as he imitates her gesture. "Sí." she said. "Oh yeah, like Abraham Lincoln." I said and Sam shrugs while Consuela starts sobbing again. "Sí. El Presidente Lincoln." she said and the boys and I trade confused looks.

"Abraham Lincoln kill Mister Hill!" she cries and Dean hums. "S-so I go home now?" she asked us. "Uh, sí. Gracias." Sam said. "Gracias." Dean and I said and Sam turns and frowns at us as Consuela walks away.

The three of us sit at the table of our motel room, Sam on his laptop and Dean on a new laptop while I was flipping through John's journal. "Whoa." Dean said and Sam and I turn to him. "What?" we asked as Dean does something on his laptop then he picks it up and turns it around for me and Sam to see. "It's a freeze-frame from Jim Grossman's video." he said and Sam and I look at it and we see a chrome car wheel were a figure of a person in a red jacket was reflected off of it

"Am I crazy, or does that look like James Dean?" Dean asked. "Well, you're crazy, regardless, but yeah that looks like James Dean." I said and Dean glares at me and I give him a smile. "I love you." I said and he shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah..." he grumbles as he sets the laptop back in front of himself.

"So we got Abraham Lincoln, and James Dean?" Dean asked and Sam frowns. "Famous ghosts?" Dean asked. "Maybe." Sam said. "Well that's just silly." I said. "No, actually, uh, there is a ton of lore on famous ghosts. More than the, you know, not-famous kinds. I'm actually surprised we haven't run into one before." Sam said.

"Yeah, but now we got two of 'em? Two extremely pissed-off ghosts?" I said. "Who are apparently ganking their fans." Sam said. "What do you mean?" Dean asked as Sam reads off the webpage on his laptop "Professor Hill was a Civil War nut. He dug Lincoln." Sam said. "And Cal must've been a James Dean freak. He spent seventeen years of his life tracking down the guy's car." Dean said and Sam raises his eyebrows, knowingly.

"So you're saying we've got two super-famous, super-pissed-off ghosts killing their...super-fans?" I asked and Sam shrugs. "That's what it looks like." Sam said. "Well, that is muchos loco." Dean grumbles and Sam grins. "Muy." Sam said and Dean and I look up. "Not muchos." Sam corrects Dean.

"Yeah, well, the big question is, what the hell are they doing here?" I asked. "Yeah. Ghosts usually haunt the places they live. I mean, I, I get Abraham Lincoln at the White House—" Sam said. "And James Dean at a race track, but...what the hell are they doing in Canton?" Dean asked and I shrug.

Later, Sam was working on his laptop while I brought a couple cans of soda for me and Dean and we were drinking from it when Sam stops typing and frowns. "You gotta be kidding me." Sam said. "What?" Dean and I asked and we walk over and read the screen. "Oh God." I muttered. "You gotta be kidding me." Dean said.

Sometime later, Dean, Sam and I walk through the wax museum, checking out the figures. Sam and I walk past John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon, then I stop at Abraham Lincoln. Dean frowns at Gandhi. "Dude, he's short." Dean said as he gestures at Gandhi.

"Hey. Gandhi was a great man." Sam said. "Yeah, for a Smurf." Dean snarks just as the owner comes down the stairs at a half-jog, slightly out of breath. He is wearing a leather jacket.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, this is our busiest time of the year." he said and Dean looks around at the empty rooms. "This is busy?" he asked. "Well, not right now, but it's early." the owner said. "It's four-thirty." Dean points out and the owner ignores him.

"So, what can I do for you?" he asked. "Uh, well, we are writing a piece for Travel Magazine." Sam said. "Yeah, on how, uh, totally non-sucky wax museums are." Dean adds and I roll my eyes. "That's fantastic. A little press, just what we need." the owner said. "Great. Well we're interested in a few of your exhibits, specifically Abraham Lincoln and, uh, James Dean." I said. "Two of our most popular displays." the owner said.

"Oh yeah? So they bring in a lot of visitors?" Sam asked. "Yeah, we have our regulars." the owner replied. "I don't suppose that, uh, William Hill and Cal Hawkins were regulars, were they?" Dean. Asked and the owner nods. "As a matter of fact, they were. Yeah, I heard what happened to them. It's tragic, just tragic. Oh—you—that's not gonna be in the article, is it?" he asked us.

"No. No, no. 'Course not." Sam assures the owner. "You know, I gotta tell you, that—that Lincoln is so lifelike, I mean, you—I mean, you can just imagine him moving around. You ever see anything like that?" Dean asked and the owner frowns. "Uh...no." he said. "No?" Dean asked.

"Well, um, is there anything you could think of that would make your museum...unusual? You know, for the article?" I asked him. "Well, I'll say. There isn't another place like us, not anywhere." the owner replied. "How so?" Dean asked.

"Well, for one, that's Honest Abe's real hat." the owner said as he points to Lincoln. "It is?" I asked. "Almost like his remains." Dean mutters and looks pointedly at me and Sam. The owner frowns. "Uh...I guess?" he said and Dean grins.

"You wouldn't happen to have any of James Dean's personal effects, would you?" I asked the owner. "Ooh, yeah. Got his keychain. We got a bunch of stuff, uh, Gandhi's bifocals, FDR's iron lung. This." he said and he indicates the leather jacket he's wearing.

"And who did that belong to?" Sam asked him. "The Fonz. Seasons two through four!" he said and he does a double thumbs-up, grinning. "That is pretty cool. You're lucky an old friend of mine isn't here with us. She'd be trying to buy that jacket off of you. Hugh Fonzie fan, she is." I said and the owner smiles.

"This? This is nothing. I've been working on a new collection of figures. Stuff that'll really wow the kids." He said. "The kids?" Dean asked. "Yeah, Gen Y." the owner said and Dean nods. "Computer games, cell phones, sexting." The owner said and I raise my eyebrows.

"They're just fads. I'm gonna make wax museums hip again." He said and he grins and gives his double thumbs-up again. Dean chuckles and Sam and I return the thumbs-up.

Sam opens the trunk of the Impala, and we take out a couple of shotguns and load them with shells of rock salt, then put the loaded shotgun back in and Sam closes the lid. We go back into our room and see Dean talking on his cell phone, facing away from the door.

"Yeah, Abraham Lincoln and James Dean, can you believe that? ...Why so kill-crazy? Ah, maybe the apocalypse has got 'em all hot and bothered. Yeah, well, we all know whose fault that is. ...Well I'm sorry, but it's true." Dean said and I sigh as Sam frowns then pushes the door shut, causing Dean to spin around.

"I'll call you later. Bye." he said into the phone and hangs up and turns to us. "What's going on?" I asked him, folding my arms. "Did you two get the trunk packed up?" he asked. "Yeah, trunk's packed. Who was on the phone?" Sam asked. "Bobby." Dean said. "And?" I asked and Dean shakes his head.

"Nothing." Dean said and I roll my eyes and glare at him. "So we're just gonna pretend I didn't hear what I just heard?" Sam asked and Dean shrugs. "Pretend or don't pretend. Whatever floats your boat." Dean said. "This was supposed to be a fresh start, Dean." Sam said as Dean picks up his jacket.

"Well, this is about as fresh as it gets. Now are we going or not?" Dean said and I look over at Dean as he walks pass me. "Dean..." I said, warningly. He stares at me then goes to the door, opens it and leaves. Sam and I watch him go and Sam sighs.

"I'm sorry, Sam." I said. "No, it's fine..." he mutters and I place a hand on his shoulder. "All I can say is...just give him time...I know it sucks but...that's all I can say..." I said and I go to the door and open it, Sam follows close behind me as we leave.

We walk through the museum, past Gandhi. Dean approaches Lincoln and takes off his hat as Sam fetches a metal trash can and I look around the room. I turn around to find Dean wearing Lincoln's hat. "Check it out." he said then he lowers his voice, imitating Lincoln. "Four score and seven years ago, I had a funny hat." he said

"Dean." Sam said, exasperated, as he turns to him and I shake my head. Sam sighs and puts the trash can down, holding his hand out for the hat. "We can't have any fun with this?" Dean asked and he takes the hat off and tosses it into the trash can.

"Let's just torch the objects, torch the ghosts, get outta here. Okay?" I said and Dean nods. "I'll go grab East of Eden's keychain." he said and he walks into the next room. Sam and I scan the room. I look at Lincoln, then narrow my eyes and lean in closer. Then the double doors Dean went through slam shut, making me and Sam spin around.

"Dean?" Sam and I call out as we go over to the doors, shotgun in hand. "Dean?" we call out again as we try the door handles but the doors won't budge. Then I notice our breathes condensing in front of us and we spin around, shotgun held at the ready.

Sam and I look from Lincoln to Gandhi and back again as we creep forward slowly. Sam and I hear a creak to our left and we turn. The shotguns flies out of our hands. Defenseless, we stand still for a second then I see Gandhi leaping onto Sam's back.

"Sam!" I shouted as Gandhi wraps his arms around Sam's neck but Sam slams him into the wall and Gandhi falls off. "Go grab his glasses!" Sam shouts to me as Gandhi gets up and they circle around each other while I run to Gandhi's wax figure.

I grab the glasses as Gandhi starts to strangle Sam and I run to the trash bin. At that moment, Dean bursts through the double doors. "Dean!" Sam said as I throw the glasses into the trash bin with the other items. "Is that Gandhi?" Dean asked. "Yeah!" Sam said. "Dude, he's squirrelly." Dean said as I squirt lighter fluid on them and finally light them on fire with a match. Gandhi disappears, and Sam gasps for air.

I run over to Sam and kneel down next to him, to check him over. "You okay?" I asked and he nods. "You couldn't have been a fan of someone cool?" Dean asked and Sam and I stare at him. "Really? Gandhi?" Dean asked and I shake my head.

Dean grabs his shirts out of a drawer and shoves them in his bag after we made our way back to the motel. "Ready to blow this joint?" Dean asked us as I pack up my stuff. Sam comes out of the bathroom, zipping up his toiletries bag. "Guys, didn't it strike you as strange the way Gandhi just...vanished?" Sam asked.

"Strange how?" Dean asked. "No screaming, no big flame-out, I mean, that isn't the way ghosts usually go." Sam said and I think this over. He's actually right, it was different. "Still, (y/n) torched, he vanished." Dean said. "Yeah, but I—" Sam sighs. "Also, I feel like he was...trying to take a bite out of me."

"A bite?" I asked, confused. "Yeah, like he was hungry. But the thing is, Gandhi—or, the real Gandhi—he was a—" Sam stops and looks a bit embarrassed. "A what?" Dean and I asked and Sam hesitates. "Spit it out." Dean said, annoyed. "He was a fruitarian." Sam said and we stare at him then Dean laughs.

"Let me get this straight. Your, uh, ultimate hero was not only a short man in diapers, but he was also a fruitarian?" Dean asked. "That's not the point." Sam said, exasperated. "That is good. That is—even for you, that is good." Dean said. "Look, I'm just saying, I'm not so sure this thing is over." Sam said and Dean spreads his arms. "It was a ghost. It was a weirdly super-charged fruitarian ghost, but it was still a ghost. Now let's go." Dean said as he picks up his bag.

"So first you drag me into town, and now you're dragging me back out." Sam said, annoyed. "You ain't steering this boat. Let's go, chop chop." Dean said and he walks towards the door. "You know, this isn't gonna work." Sam said and Dean stops and turns.

"What isn't?" Dean asked. "Us. You, me, (y/n), together, I—I thought it could, but it can't." Sam said and I frown at Sam. "You're the one that wanted back in, chief." Dean said. "And you're the one who called me back in." Sam argued. "I still think we got some trust building to do." said Dean and Sam sighs.

"How long am I gonna be on double-secret probation?" Sam asked and Dean shrugs. "Till I say so." Dean said and I scoff. "Dean..." I said, exasperated, then Sam speaks up again. "Look. I know what I did. What I've done. And I am trying to climb out of that hole, I am, but you're not making it any easier." he tells Dean.

"So what am I supposed to do, just let you off the hook?" Dean asked. "No. You can think whatever you want. I deserve it, and worse. Hell, you'll never punish me as much as I'm punishing myself, but the point is, if we're gonna be a team, you and I—it has to be a two-way street." Sam explains.

"So we just go back to the way we were before?" Dean asked, suspiciously. "No, because we were never that way before. Before didn't work." Sam said and Dean and I frown. "How do you think we got here?" Sam asked and Dean narrows his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. "Dean, one of the reasons I went off with Ruby...was to get away from you." Sam said and this caught me off guard. "What?" Dean said, just as shocked. "It made me feel strong. Like I wasn't your kid brother." Sam said.

"Are you saying this is my fault?" Dean asked. "No, it's my fault. All I'm saying is that, if we're gonna do this, we have to do it different, we can't just fall into the same rut." Sam said and Dean shakes his head. "What do you want me to do?" Dean asked. "You're gonna have to let me grow up, for starters." Sam said as Dean's cellphone rings.

He stares at Sam, then puts his bag down and answers it. "Yeah?" he answered and he looks to Sam then away again. Sam and I share a look and I give him a look of pity and said, quietly. "I'm so sorry." Sam shakes his head. "It's ok. Don't be." He said while Dean continued to talk on the phone.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." He said then he hangs up. "I guess you were right about this not being over." Dean said as he looks at Sam.

The boys and I, in suits, make our way back to the sheriff's office and see Rick sitting at his desk. "Sheriff Carnegie?" Sam said and he looks up at us. "Sheriff, what happened?" Dean asked and Rick looked stunned.

"I, uh, uh..." he stammers as he shrugs and shakes his head. "I don't know!" he said and he leads us to the interview room where two young women are sitting at the table, crying. We walk in. "Excuse us, girls. Hi, we're with the FBI." I said as we walk in. "Can you tell us what happened?" Sam asked them.

"It was horrible!" One girl said. "Way horrible." the other girl said. "What was horrible?" I asked them. "I thought she'd be nice!" the first girl said as her friend looks at her. "I still can't believe it." she said, distressed.

"Believe what?" Dean asked them. "She took Danielle!" the second girl exclaims. "Who?" Dean asked and the girls look at each other. "It's okay, you're safe, just, tell us. Who took your friend?" Sam asked. "It was...Paris Hilton." The first girl said and the boys and I share a confused look.

"Sorry?" I asked them as I turn to them. "She looked really good, though." the second girl said. "Skinny!" the first girl adds. "Skinny and fast." said the second girl. "What—wait—huh?" Dean asked, completely confused.

"Uh, um...where did they go?" Sam asked them and the first girl shakes her head. "We don't know." the first girl said. "They just vanished." the second girl said. "Would you excuse us for just a minute?" Dean said to them and we walk back to the doorway and speak just above a whisper.

"Paris Hilton's not dead as far as we know, right?" Dean asked. "Pretty sure, no." Sam said. "Which means it's not a—" Dean said and I finish his sentence. "Ghost. No." I said.

"So, what? Paris Hilton is a homicidal maniac—" Dean asked. "Or we missed something." Sam said and I sigh. "What do you wanna do?" I asked them.

Now in blue scrubs, I was looking through Cal's file and read through the notes. I frown when I find something pretty odd. Minutes later, I pull out Cal's body from the freezer and use a scalpel to cut open Cal's chest, then push my gloved hand inside. There is a squelch and I close my eyes and breath out. "That's right." I groan, frowning.

I pull my hand out, fingers covered in blood, and hold up two small round things. "What the hell?" I muttered, confused.

Back in my suit, I come out of the building to meet up with the boys, shaking my head and sigh. "I can't believe I missed it." I said as they stand up and walk with me back to the Impala. "Missed what?" Dean asked me. "Went back over the other two vics. There was blood loss. Major." I explained. "Oh, well, being a gory smear will do that to you." Dean said, sarcastically. "No, I—I mean more blood loss than a—a car crash or a head wound should cause, almost like it—" I said. "Something's feeding." Sam said and I nod and point. "Exactly." I said.

"Awesome." Dean mutters. "And then—" i said as I take out a plastic bag. "There were these." I said and the boys look at the bag, which contains these two round seeds. Dean picks up the corner to inspect them closer, Sam leans in to inspect as well.

"What are those, seeds?" Sam asked me. "Yeah. They were in both vics' bellies." I said and Dean takes his hand off the bag quickly. "I hope you washed your hands." Dean said and I give him a seriously? look. Then I raise my hand and wipe my fingers across his face and he recoils at this. "Agh, damn it, (y/n)." Dean said and I laugh at him as Sam takes the bag to look at the seeds.

"They're unlike any seed I've ever seen before, Dean." Sam said as he looks at the bag. "Wow, just when I thought you couldn't get any geekier." Dean said then he pats Sam on the shoulder and gets into the Impala.

Back at the motel, Sam is on his laptop again, the seeds out of their bag and sitting on the table next to him. Dean and I were sitting on the bed using our own laptops. "Yahtzee." Sam said and we look over at him. "What?" Dean and I asked.

"The seeds aren't from around here. In fact, they're not from any tree or plant in the country." Sam said. "Where are they from?" Dean asked. "Eastern Europe. From a forest in the Balkans, which is not even there anymore. It was chopped down, like, thirty years ago." Sam explained.

"So?" Dean and I said. "So, local legend has it that the forest was guarded by a pagan god whose name was Leshi. Um, a mischievous god, could take on infinite forms—" Sam said. "And let me guess. He liked to munch on his fans." I said and Sam chuckles. "Yep. Could be appeased only with the blood from his worshippers. It would drain 'em, then stuff their stomachs with the seeds." he said and we get up and go over to Sam.

"So how's he doing it? What, he touches James Dean's keychain and then morphs into James Dean?" Dean asked. "Hm. It's as good a guess as any." Sam said. "Yeah, well, whatever. How do we kill him?" I asked. "Says here to chop off his head with an iron axe." Sam said and Dean nods. "All right. Let's go gank ourselves a Paris Hilton." I said

That night, we enter the museum, Dean carrying an axe and Sam and I with flashlights. We walk past the now hatless Abraham Lincoln wax model then we split up and search separate rooms. I come across a door with signs on it reading "Sorry for the inconvenience, CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS" and "DANGER DO NOT ENTER".

I whistle and Dean and Sam meet up with me. We break the latch and open the door, pushing through a plastic sheet to find a room decorated like a clearing in the woods, with a path leading up the middle to a white house with a wax figure of a man in a suit standing on the front porch.

I notice a young woman, who must be Danielle, standing next to a tree and tied by her wrists to it. "Hey." I said as I run over and check her pulse. "She alive?" Dean asked me. "Yeah. Barely." I said then the axe flies out of Dean's hand and embeds itself in a tree on the other side of the path.

Dean spins around to find Paris Hilton; this must be the Leshi. She grins and punches Dean multiple times in the face, sending him to the ground, then she punches Sam, knocking him down. She flips her hair as I lunge at her, but she shoves me and sends me flying across the room. I collide with the front wall of the house and fall to the ground, unconscious.

*3rd Person POV*

Dean shakes his head and looks up to see the Leshi standing over him. "Awesome." she said and she raises her stiletto-clad foot and stomps on Dean's face.

Later, the Lezhi sits on a tree stump near the house with another tree stump serving as a table next to her. Laid on it are various knives; she picks one up and begins filing her nails, causing small sparks. Dean, (y/n) and Sam are tied to three trees side-by-side, in the same fashion as Danielle. They wake up one after the other and struggle for a second before they realize where they are.

"Oh. I'm so glad you're awake for this. This is gonna be huge." Leshi said as the trio look at each other. "Super. Yeah, I wouldn't wanna miss it." Dean said, sarcastically, as he pulls at his ropes discreetly. "I mean, I've been stuffing myself with fast food lately. So it's nice to do the ritual right. Prepare a nice, slow meal for a change." Leshi said.

"Just like the good old days, huh?" Sam asked and Leshi chuckles. "You have no idea. People adored me. They used to throw themselves at me, with smiles on their faces." she said. "Yeah, I guess these days nobody gives a flying crap about some backwoods forest god, huh?" (y/n) sneers and Leshi stops filing her nails with a threatening glare.

"No. Not since they cut down my forest and built a Yugo plant." she growls. "March of progress, sister." Dean said and Leshi files her nails a few more times. "For years now, I've been wandering. Hungry. Scared. Scrounging for scraps. So not sexy." she said as Dean makes a face.

"But then, the best thing ever happened." Leshi said then she puts the knife down. "Someone tripped the apocalypse. And I thought, what the hell, I'm tired of watching what I eat. I wanna pig out. So I found this little place. It's awesome. Adoring fans stroll right in the door." she said. "Yeah. But they're not your fans." Sam said.

"So? They worship Lincoln, Gandhi, Hilton...whatever. I'll take what I can get." Leshi said, shrugging. "You know, I gotta tell you, you are not the first god we've met, but you are...the nuttiest." (y/n) said and Leshi scoffs. "No, you, you people, you're the crazy ones. You used to worship gods. But this?" she said as she indicates her Paris Hilton disguise.

"This is what passes for idolatry? Celebrities? What have they got besides small dogs and spray tans?" she asked and Sam frowns while Dean and (y/n) raise their eyebrows, nodding. "You people used to have old-time religion. Now you have Us Weekly." Leshi said. "I don't know, I'm more of a Penthouse Forum man myself." Dean said as he winks then clicks his tongue at Leshi.

She gets up and stalks over to him. "Maybe, but...there's still a lot of yummy meat on those bones, boy." she said. "Well I hate to break it to you, sister, but, uh...you can't eat me. See, I'm not a Paris Hilton BFF. I've never even seen House of Wax." Dean said and Sam looks at Dean, frowning.

cNo. But I can totally read your mind, Dean. I know who your hero is. Your daddy. Am I right?" Leshi asked and Dean doesn't reply. She smirks and walks over to the tree with the axe embedded in it.

When her back is turned, Dean and (y/n) pull at their ropes. "And this belonged to him. Didn't it? Poor little Dean. All you ever wanted was to be loved by your idol. One distant father figure, coming right up." Leshi said and she goes to touch the axe when Dean finally pulls his wrist free of the ropes. He sprints across the clearing and tackles the Leshi to the floor.

Sam pulls desperately at his ropes as the Leshi manages to kneel on top of Dean and punches him repeatedly in the face. (y/n) pulls free then tackles the Leshi and the two fight. Sam finally pulls free and dashes over the clearing. Dean gets up and throws the Leshi off of (y/n) as Sam pulls the axe from the tree.

Dean and (y/n) move away as Sam brings the axe down five times on the Leshi's neck. Her head rolls free of her body and Sam pants in exertion, his face covered in blood. Dean goes over to (y/n) and helps her up on her feet. As she gets on her feet, she starts to laugh at him and he holds up a finger while Sam grins.

"Not a word." Dean warns her. "Dude. You just got whaled on by Paris Hilton!" Sam said and Dean turns to him. "Shut up." he growls and (y/n) warps her arms around his middle. "Aww, my poor, big, strong man, getting beating up by a petite reality star." She said, in a mocking tone. Dean growls under his breath while Sam and (y/n) laughs.

*(y/n)'s POV*

The next morning, the boys and I, carrying our bags, walk to the Impala while Dean is talking on his cell phone. "Uh-huh. All right. Thank you." Dean said and he hangs up. "Sheriff Carnegie. Danielle's gonna be all right. She's sworn off The Simple Life, but other than that—" Dean said. "Glad she's okay." Sam said and I nod. "Me too." I said.

"It gets better. Sheriff's putting out an APB on Paris Hilton." Dean chuckles. "That oughta be good." I giggle as Dean takes out his keys and opens the trunk of the Impala and we put our bags inside. Then Dean turns to Sam.

"Hey, listen, I was thinking about what you said yesterday. About me keeping too tight of a leash on you." He said and Sam looks at him. "Hell, maybe you're right. I mean, look, I'm not exactly Mister Innocent in this whole mess either, you know. I did break the first seal." Dean said. "You didn't know." Sam said, trying to assure him. "Yeah, well, neither did you." Dean said and Sam looks down.

"I'm not saying demon blood was a great way to go, but, you did kill Lilith." Dean said to him. "And start the apocalypse." Sam said. "Which neither of us saw coming, I mean, who'd have thought killing Lilith would've been a bad thing?" I asked and the boys shrug as if to say good point.

"Point is, I was so worried about watching your every move that I didn't see what it was actually doing to you." Dean said as he looks over at Sam. "So, for that I'm sorry." he said and Sam nods. "Thanks." he said and Dean closes the trunk and takes the keys.

"So where do we go from here?" I asked them. "They way I see it, we got one shot at surviving this." Sam said. "What's that?" Dean asked. "Maybe I am on deck for the devil, maybe same with you and Michael, maybe same with (y/n) and Ariel, maybe there's no changing that." Sam said. "Well that's encouraging." Dean said. "But, we can stop wringing our hands over it. We gotta just grab onto whatever's in front of us, kick its ass, and go down fighting." Sam said and Dean considers this, then nods.

"I can get on board with that." he said and I nod. "Same here." I said and Sam nods. "Okay. But we're gonna have to do it on the same level." Sam said and Dean grins slightly. "You got it." he said and Sam nods again.

"I say we get the hell outta here." I said and Sam smiles. "Hell yeah." Sam said and we turn to go to their respective sides of the car, but Dean stops and looks down at the keys.

"Hey." Dean calls out and Sam turns around, then Dean holds out the keys. "You wanna drive?" he asked and Sam looks down at the keys. "You sure?" Sam asked him. "Yeah, I could, uh...I could use a nap." Dean said and Sam smiles a little and Dean hands him the keys.

Sam smiles and we get into the Impala and head out.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

60 notes · View notes