#set the song up as being about dean and sam in the bridge waiting for cas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sams-sass · 4 years ago

Text

Same Song Different Show

Hello!!! So this was written for @spnfanficpond‘s unfic challenge. My prompt was “Africa” by toto. I don’t know what happened. I just started writing and couldn’t stop.

Summary: This is basically changing channels, just with you and Sam instead of Sam and Dean.

Parings: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, language, just word length (she’s a wordy one).

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You moved your shirt back a little to see the cut across your collarbone. Sighing from exhaustion and frustration, you licked your lips and raised the needle and dental floss to your skin.

"Fucking angels." You muttered under your breath as you moved the floss through your skin. There was a soft knock on the bathroom door, and you instantly knew it was Sam on the other side. Your stomach flipped in your abdomen, and your heart rate picked up. Tonight was weird. Really weird. The angels had come for you and Sam, talking about some divine plan that was laid out for the two of you by heaven itself. They refused to provide all the details, but it was something about the two of you being together…as in a couple. There was something they weren't telling you, and it was driving you insane. How could they drop a bomb like that on you so suddenly? You and Sam? I mean, you would be lying to say you never thought about it, dreamed about it, wished for it, but you never took your secret crush seriously. You saw how adamantly he had denied the possibility of you two. You saw the way he looked over at you like he had never even thought about you as anything other than a friend. Of course, things had gotten physical, and you ended up with a nasty cut. You held pressure on it the whole drive back; the silence in the car was deafening with unspoken words. You and Sam had shared awkward glances, and fleeting eye contact the entire time back to the motel. Neither one of you could say what was really on your mind. You couldn’t ask each other about it just yet. Soon though. Soon you would have to talk about it.

“Hey, Y/N, you doing okay in there?” His voice was soft and smooth, putting you at ease. You gulped and opened the door, finding him leaning against the doorframe. His right arm was over his head, holding his weight against the top of the door. While his left hand was placed on his hip, highlighting his trim waist. He was so close you could smell his shampoo. His beauty stopped you in your tracks, and you dropped the needle, leaving the dental floss handing from your torn flesh.

“Hey, Sam.” You said, letting your mouth turn up into a small smile that widened when he smiled back at you in the cramped space.

“Ya know, I could help with that. I don't think you are going to get a good stitch trying to do it yourself." He said, pointing to your cut. You looked down and sighed, feeling your shoulders relax slightly, and nodded at him before stepping out of the bathroom. He followed you to the bed where you sat on the edge. He grabbed a chair and sat down in front of you, taking the needle in between his fingers and beginning his work. You winced, and he stopped his movements, raising his eyes to look into yours deeply.

“You okay?” He asked, a worried expression on his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You said, giving him a small smile for reassurance. It was at that moment that you realized how close your faces were. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you made the mistake of glancing down at his lips for the smallest of seconds. He cleared his throat and licked his lips, tearing his eyes away from you and getting back to work. You didn't know what to do. A part of you didn't want to talk about it, just forget about it and never mention the craziness. Then there was another part of you that desperately wanted to talk about you and Sam together, to pull him towards you and taste his answer on his lips.

"So…tonight was weird." You said softly, casting your eyes towards the floor. His fingers stilled, and he took in a big breath. You licked your bottom lip and let it catch between your teeth, biting it as you nervously waited. He looked back up at you, and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was." He said. You could tell he was trying to keep his voice light.

"What do you think they want from us?" You asked, twisting your fingers together in your lap. Sam tied off the stitches and cut the floss, leaning back in the chair.

"Sounds like they want us to uh…well to be together." His voice was a matter of fact. Emotionless.

“Right, but why would heaven care if we were together or not?” You asked, pulling a leg up to your chest and tilting your head in confusion.

“I don’t know. Why do they want anything from humans?" He sounded tired—his voice heavy with sleep and something else you couldn’t place. You nodded your head and shrugged your shoulders, telling him that you agreed with his assessment.

“Well, I’m going to get cleaned up.” You said, standing up and awkwardly wiping your palms against your jeans. “Thank you for the stitch.” You pointed to your shoulder with a little smile.

“Of course.” He replied with a small smile of his own.

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Sam watched you walk into the bathroom and waited for the door to close to exhale. This day had turned out different than he imagined, and he couldn't stop the feelings building inside him like a tidal wave. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly. What did this mean? Being put together by heaven. For what? Sighing, he opened the door and stepped into the cool air of the night. Pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing Dean's familiar number.

"Yeah?" His brother's scruffy voice greeted him.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, stuffing his unoccupied hand into his pocket nervously.

“How’s it going?” He asked, his mouth clearly full of food.

“Alright, how’s the ghost?” Sam asked.

"Dead," Dean answered quickly. "Did the angels tell you why they were there?" He questioned his brother further.

"Yeah…they uh were here for Y/N and me. Apparently, they set this whole thing up to get us alone." Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“What? Why?” Dean sounded worried now.

"Well, according to them, we are supposed to be together…as in a couple," Sam said, waiting for his brother's disapproval. There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Sam thought his brother lost connection for a second, pulling the phone away from his face to check.

"I mean, Sammy, sometimes you just have to accept divine intervention," Dean said, and Sam thought he had stepped into an alternate reality for a moment. He furrowed his brow and shook his head slightly, his mouth comically agape.

“What? No, Dean, no.” Sam stumbled through his words, unable to come up with a real excuse. Dean sighed on the other end of the phone.

“Sam. I see the way you look at her, the way she looks at you too. Maybe this time, one of us should listen to those winged bastards.” Dean said, and Sam could hear the liquid sloshing in the bottle. His phone buzzed, and he sighed in relief.

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” Sam said hastily. He opened the text on his phone, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Cas: 1276 Millwood Drive

Sam shook his head and stepped back into the motel room, making his way over to the bathroom door.

“Y/N? Hey, I got a text from Cas to meet up.” He said after knocking. He heard an audible groan in frustration before you opened the door, a bloody cloth in your hand from where you were cleaning your cut.

“About what now?” You asked, placing your hands on your hips.

"I don't know; it was just an address." He said as he grabbed his jacket and made his way towards the door. You rolled your eyes dramatically and let your shoulders slump before following after him.

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

The address Cas sent was an abandoned old warehouse. Its rusted and worn metal roof creaked in the soft breeze. You made your way inside with flashlights in hand, looking around cautiously for your angel friend. The damp air was thick with the smell of stale mildew. There was an ominous dripping of water somewhere in the distance, and you felt as if eyes were watching you from afar. A chill ran down your spine, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"Where is he?" You whispered to Sam, who gave you a confused look, shrugging his shoulders and turning the corners of his lips down towards his chin. You stepped through large metal double doors at the same time and were suddenly greeted with a strange sight. You were suddenly in a living room; a beige couch and green rug were on hardwood floors. There was a mirror on the wall over a fireplace. Pictures of people you didn't know lined the sage green walls. You and Sam both looked around with confusion and fear in your expressions.

“What the hell?” Sam said. You looked over at him to give your agreement when you caught sight of him and stopped dead in your tracks. His hair was slicked back with a ridiculous amount of gel, and it looked like he was wearing bronzer. He had on grey dress pants with a flowy cream-colored shirt tucked into them with a black belt highlighting his hips. The shirt was unbuttoned down to his sternum, exposing his chest that you so often dreamt of but rarely got to see.

"Sam?" You asked with wide eyes. "What the hell are you wearing?" He turned to look at you, and his face fell slightly.

"I could ask you the same question." He said, pointing to your body. You tilted your head to the side and looked down at yourself to see what he was talking about. A silky black dress barely covered your body, clinging to your curves, and highlighting your assets. Your feet were decorated with high heels, your legs were bare, and the dress cut off at your upper thigh. You swallowed and ran your hands over yourself.

"What the fuck?" You said simply. You looked around the room again and caught your face in the mirror; your eyes widened at your reflection. Your hair was done into a glamourous updo that framed your face nicely; your makeup looked caked on and thick. Heavy and gaudy earrings sat in your ears, sticking out from your hair and almost touching your shoulders.

A loud bang made both of you jump and instinctively reach for your guns that had disappeared. You threw your arms up in frustration and turned towards the sound. A woman walked through the door that had slammed against the wall, her hips swinging as she strutted into the room. Music started from somewhere. Slow and melodramatic that reminded you of a show your grandma used to watch. You leaned your head back and stared at her. She walked directly up to you, invading your personal space. She smelt like hairspray and cheap perfume.

“You think you are so much better than me, don’t you!” She screamed in your face.

"What?" You asked, looking over at Sam, who was wearing the same look of shock as you.

“He was mine first!” She said with an over the top ugly crying face with no tears. She suddenly reached up and slapped you across the face, making you stumble slightly. You grabbed your cheek and looked at her with an open mouth and angry eyes.

“Oh. You’re in for it now.” You said, squaring up to her and rolling your neck to get the cracks out.

“And you!” She suddenly screamed at Sam. “You leave me for my sister right when I tell you about our baby?” Sam leaned his head forward and narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to talk. She reached forward and slapped him across the face too.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” You asked, taking a step towards Sam.

"Tell me, you don't love me!" She wailed at Sam. "Tell me that you love her more than me, and I'll leave you alone forever." She pointed at you as she spoke, her overlined lips pulling awkwardly over her teeth.

“Uh…yes?” Sam mumbled with a raise of his eyebrow. She threw herself at him, clutching his shirt in her balled fists. He leaned back and tried to get her to let go, pushing at her wrists.

"I will always love you." She whispered, her face coming dangerously close to Sam's, making him lean back even further. Whimpering pathetically, she released him and ran away with her head in her hands. The music changed suddenly, and you recognized the familiar drum beat.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had.

“What just happened?” He asked, his eyes scanning the room again in confusion. You opened your mouth to answer, but only a mumbled string of “um”s fell out while you stared blankly ahead. There was a sound like a record scratching, and then the music started again.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had.

"I don't know. It's like we're in a soap opera or something." You said, putting your weight on one hip and crossing your arms.

“A…a soap opera?” He raised his eyebrows.

"I know it sounds insane, but think about it for a second. The outfits, the crazy woman slapping us, the ridiculous plotline, the music, and the mood lighting. I'm not sure how or why, but it all fits." You spoke with your hands as you put the pieces together.

“Wait! Y/N, that’s it! We are in a soap opera!” He grabbed your biceps and looked deeply into your eyes with a new sense of understanding. “When Dean and I were trying to stop the apocalypse from happening two years ago, Gabriel put us in this endless loop of T.V shows.” He explained. You placed your hands on his forearms and furrowed your brow.

“Okay, so how do we get out?” You asked.

"Well, Dean and I had to find him; the only way we could move on was to 'play our roles.'" Sam said, taking his hands off your arms so he could use finger quotes.

"What does that mean? Play your roles?" You asked him using air quotes as he had. The record scratched. The song started playing annoyingly all over again, its tune filling the otherwise quiet room with the familiar beat. Sam looked nervous suddenly, his left hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"Well, we uh…we would do what the role required. Like we were in a hospital in one show, so we played doctors, and that's how we moved on." Sam explained.

“Okay…” You started as you began to pace back and forth, helping yourself think. “So, this is a soap opera where we just found out you chose me over my pregnant, with your baby, sister.” You paused and looked over at him. “I can’t believe I just said that.” You shook your head, feeling the large earrings swinging against your neck before resuming your pacing. “It sounds to me like this is…oh I see.” You connected the dots and stopped dead in your tracks, looking up at Sam like a deer in headlights.

"The part when we get together," Sam said with a nervous chuckle.

“Fucking angels.” You muttered again, closing your eyes and taking in a big breath. You were stuck in place as if someone had poured concrete around your feet. You wanted this, wanted him so badly. You felt a heat run over your skin as he took one step towards you, his face one of determination. Swallowing down your nerves, you reached out one hand and felt him take it between his fingers.

"May I?" He asked, his voice sounded rough. You didn't trust your voice, so you just nodded your head slowly, not breaking eye contact. He touched your shoulder and leaned forward. You tilted your head up and closed your eyes, rising onto your tippy toes. The song started again, the drums beating as his lips touched yours ever so softly. You kissed him back gently, not allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of him like you so desperately wanted to. He pulled back and smiled down at you, his dimples on full display. You let out a shaky breath and smiled back at him, holding yourself back from throwing your arms around his neck and finally letting yourself show him how you feel.

"Let's try the door." He said. You realized that his hand was still holding yours as you made your way over to the door, and you couldn't stop the small smirk that made its way across your lips at the feeling. You pushed the door open, and suddenly you were on a street. The cobblestone street clicked underneath your heels, your long skirt dragging on the ground behind you soundlessly. Sam was wearing a suit and top hat. His jacket was cut at his waist in the front but falling longer in the back, a pocket watch chain hanging from the front. His bowtie was a solid black, making his green eyes stand out. He turned to look at you, and you didn't miss the way his eyes raked over your body. Making you look down in self-consciousness. You had on a corset that made you stand tall and straight. Its laces were pulling your body into a tight hourglass shape, perking up your breasts and flowing at the sinch of your waist. A frilly and tight maroon dress adorned your body. You swallowed and looked up at Sam, who licked his lips, causing your heart to skip a beat. Suddenly there were people everywhere as if they all appeared at once. The street was busy with the noise of voices and horse-drawn carriages.

“What do you think is going to be our moment in this one?” You asked, looking around at the street.

"I don't know; I think we should move, though," Sam said, walking along the street. He held out his elbow, and you placed your gloved hand into the crook as you strolled across the road. His body was so close to yours, and the feeling of warmth it was giving made you feel calmer in this unfamiliar and uncertain land. A market with tents and booths appeared, you and Sam walking under its shade together.

“A flower for the lady!” A man with a huge mustache and glasses called out to you loudly. His outstretched hand held a rose. You took it between your fingers and smiled at him.

“Thank you.” You said, bringing the flower up to your nose to inhale its scent.

"Doctor!" A voice called from afar. You and Sam both looked to see a man running towards you with papers in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his breath coming in fast and ragged.

"I am sorry to interrupt, I did not see you there, madam. I will leave you while you are courting your betrothed." He said quickly, bowing his head in respect.

“Betrothed?” You and Sam asked in unison.

"I mean, yes, of course." Sam corrected himself and stood a little taller.

“If I may suggest, the park is rather splendid this day. Maybe a spot of lunch.” He placed his hands behind his back and smiled warmly at you.

“A wise suggestion indeed. Thank you.” Sam said, clearly fumbling over his words. You walked away, still arm and arm, and made your way to the park.

“Okay, how do we move on?” You asked quietly, keeping your head low.

"I don't know. We need a door." He said, looking around. "There!" He said, pointing to a building on the corner.

"Let's go." You said. The two of you pushed the door open and were greeted by a sight you could only dream of—towers of books surrounded you on all sides. Shelves of literature were all around you, and you couldn't help but feel the amazement. Emerald, red, navy, and black book spines pointed towards you as you walked through the aisles. You found a door in the back of the library and faced Sam, nervously rubbing your hands together and waiting for the kiss. He took you by the arms and pulled you to him while the orchestra swelled in the background. There were no words this time, but it was the instrumental version of the song playing earlier. His lips touched yours with more authority this time; he left his lips on yours for a beat longer than you expected. Your body melted against him, and you could feel the restraint in his kiss. Did he want more? Did he like what you wanted? He released you, and you instinctively licked your lips, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. He cleared his throat, and you found the closest door, pushing it open.

Your eyes took a second to adjust to the bright light suddenly surrounding you in an overstimulating bedroom. There was color everywhere. The blue curtains clashed with the red and white rug. Green walls were lined with obscure and abstract paintings. Fabric hung from the ceiling fan, curtain rods, and full-length mirror next to a mannequin. You looked down at yourself and saw that you were pinned into a flowing red dress that was surprisingly tasteful given your surroundings.

“You might be my best work yet!” A voice said from behind you, making you jump slightly. You turned to see a cute girl with a measuring tape hanging around her neck and a pincushion on her wrist. She was examining you as if you were art in a museum.

"Where is Sam?" You asked; you frantically looked around the room for him and began to panic when you couldn't find him anywhere.

“He will be at the party! Waiting for you,” She paused, clasping her hands together and looking up into the distance with a blissful look on her face. “his true love.” She whispered.

"Um…what?" You asked with a furrowed brow. What the hell was going on? Who was this person? If you were here, where was Sam? The sound of a door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you leaned forward to see who it was. A girl practically skipped into the room and let out a high pitch squeal. Her curls bounced with her as she and the other girl did an in sync hip movement. You watched on with wide eyes and a confused expression.

“Oh my god! Y/N! You look ravishing!” The second girl shouted excitedly…too excitedly.

“Tha-tha-thank you.” You stuttered through your confusion. She reached up and made a claw with her fingers, roaring in your direction.

"What the fuck?" You mumbled under your breath. You looked around the room and at these women. The realization started to slowly sink in all at once—the over the top dialog, the one-dimensional friends, the bright colors. You were in a romantic comedy. The sound of a bottle of champagne popping confirmed it to you.

"Alright now. Let's get you ready for that party.” The girl who was clearly playing your “artsy” friend moved towards you with an awkward shoulder roll. She took the pins out and pushed you into a chair where your "bubbly" friend played with your hair and placed jewelry across your skin. A happy song played in the background as you all drank champagne and played with makeup. You sat awkwardly silent as they fell into hysterics about…nothing. Not a single thing was even remotely funny. Holy crap. You were in a montage. You placed your glass of champagne down and picked up the bottle, chugging the bubbly liquid down as fast as you could.

As if time didn't matter at all, you were suddenly standing at the top of a descending staircase. Sam stood at the bottom, looking as handsome as ever. His tux was fitted to him perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders and slim waist. You swallowed and made your way down the staircase, eager to get to him as an orchestra started playing on cue. You felt eyes on you from every angle, as if everyone in the building was waiting for you to arrive. Finally making it to Sam, you breathed a sigh of relief when you felt the party resume behind you.

"You look beautiful," Sam said, almost as if he couldn't help himself. You let a shy smile cross your face before playfully nudging him in the chest with your shoulder.

“A romantic comedy. Can you believe it? Dean is going to be pissed he missed out.” You asked him, laughing and looking at all the doors for the best way out.

"I know where were you? I have been waiting here looking for you for like a half-hour." Sam asked.

“Ugh. Sorry. I had to get ready with tweedled dee and tweedled dumb over there.” You flicked your head in their direction. “They laughed about nothing. Absolutely nothing for like ten minutes.” You muttered, shaking your head of the memory. There was a squeak next to you, and your eyes closed in premature annoyance. You knew what was about to happen.

"Hey, guys!" Your bubbly friend said. You both turned and gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“The dance floor looks really nice.” Your artsy friend chimed in, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, you guys should go try it out.” Bubbles said, once again bouncing in place.

“What? Oh no, we are fine here.” You said, shaking your head and waving your hand in their faces.

"No! You have to!" Artsy said, shoving the two of you out onto the dance floor. You and Sam both stumbled onto the wooden floor, holding onto each other for support. A familiar tune started, and you both straightened at the song.

I hear the drums echoing tonight.

But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.

She's coming in, 12:30 flight.

The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation.

I stopped an old man along the way.

Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies

He turned to me as if to say, "Hurry boy, it's waiting there for you."

Suddenly everyone on the dance floor started moving along to the song in a choreographed routine. Swaying bodies and smiling faces were prancing around you in a blur of color and fake smiles.

"Oh, sweet Jesus. It's a dance scene." You said, watching as everyone got more involved with the approaching chorus.

“No, no, no. I am not doing a dance number.” Sam said, stiffening under his jacket.

“Okay, then kiss me.” You replied quickly, turning your face towards his.

“Y/N, are you sure?” He asked, ever the gentlemen.

“Sam.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him towards you and kissing him fully on the mouth as the chorus broke out behind you.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

This kiss felt more emotional than the others had. It felt more passionate, real, and raw. His hand came up to cup your cheek. You wanted to let yourself have the moment. To fall into him and drink him in like water, but you had to get out of here, and you had to do it now. You broke away, letting him still hold you close to him as you took in a heavy breath. You released each other and ran away from the dance floor before your “friends” could find you to have another montage.

Charging through the double doors at the same time, you and Sam found yourselves suddenly in a black and white world. Your body was draped over a couch, a silk robe cloaking your skin. Pearls and jewels hung on your neck, leading to a nightdress that hung to your mid-calf. A glass with a dark liquid was perched in your right hand, balancing on your hip. A knock on the door made you get up and walk across the lavish room, opening the door to a maid. She bowed her head slightly and spoke in a soft voice.

"Excuse me, miss, but he wants to see you now." She said, lifting her head to look into your eyes.

“Very well.” You played along, turning back into your bedroom to find clothing.

“Would you like my help, miss?” The maid asked, already taking a step into the room.

"What shall I wear?" You asked her, sitting back down onto the couch and crossing your legs. She made her way to a closet and began looking through hangers. You followed behind her and let yourself openly gawk at the number of dresses in front of you.

"If I were you, I would wear this, miss." She said, holding up a floor-length beaded gown. You nodded and took it from her hands, smiling at the opportunity to get so dressed up for once.

"I agree." You smiled at her, and she let out a breath, as if she had been holding it for quite some time, and smiled back at you happily. She helped you take off your jewelry and hung up your robe and nightgown for you as you changed into the dress. Her thin fingers zipped up the dress in the back, and she lightly ran her hands over the fabric to make sure it laid flat over your body. Then, as if time wasn't a thing, you were stepping out of a car—a hand coming to help you keep steady on your feet. Your face turned up towards the lively building in front of you, music and lights seeming to flow from it and into your soul. You walked through the doors and found Sam immediately, his tall frame towering over everyone else. He raised a hand and fixed his cufflink, sending a wink in your direction. Your blood ran hotter in your veins as you stepped towards him until you were face to face.

"Champagne, madam?" A waiter asked, holding out a tray with two flutes of the bubbly liquid balancing perfectly on it for the taking. You and Sam each took one, clinking your glasses together in cheers before taking a sip. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes didn't deviate from yours or how he seemed to have a new confidence. You smiled and looked around at the night club. Dim lighting and white table cloths filled your vision. The air was smokey and warm on a summer night. People bustled about, drinks in gloved hands—dresses and suits a blur in the festive atmosphere. The band played on in the back, filling the crowded space with a slow beat.

“This song is for the owner and his lovely date.” The singer spoke into the microphone, pointing directly at you and Sam.

"That's our cue," Sam said, taking the glass from his hand and placing it on a table with his own. He stretched his hand out to you and wrapped his fingers around your hand gently. You made your way onto the dance floor, and a slow rendition of what was quickly becoming a song you shared with Sam started.

I hear the drums echoing tonight.

But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.

She’s coming in, 12:30 flight

The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation.

I stopped an old man along the way.

Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies

He turned to me as if to say, “Hurry boy, it’s waiting there for you."

Sam wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you tightly against him, moving to the beat of the song. His large hand splayed over your back, the pads of his fingers pushing lightly against your ribcage. You tried to calm your heart, swallowing hard and telling yourself it was all for show.

“You seem different.” You said, looking up at him.

“I know. I just figured that maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we played along a little bit.” He said, taking you completely by surprise. You cleared your throat and smiled. You could live with this, with the feeling of him against you tightly. With the way, he was looking at you right now. It was as if time stood still. As if nothing else mattered except you and Sam being together forever. Between the way, his body felt on yours, the champagne, and his hot breath on your face, you decided to be brave.

“Ya know, to get out of here, you have to kiss me.” You said, your voice breathy. He looked down at your lips and bent his neck to capture his lips in yours.

It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

This kiss was what you would consider the first kiss. His lips moved lightly against yours, opening ever so slightly. You kissed back, letting yourself explore the feeling of him no matter how fleeting the moment. He broke the kiss first, placing his forehead against yours gently. You glanced up at him again to smile, and the two of you took off to the nearest door.

The smell of beer was the first thing you noticed.

“Y/N! Sam!” A voice called out over the noisy crowd in the bar. You felt Sam's hand take yours, and you moved through the tables together.

“Took you guys long enough, finally expressing your undying love?” The man who had called your name asked, taking a sip of his beer. A laugh track sounded around you at the stupid joke. Awesome. A sitcom.

“What?” Sam asked him, leaning forward slightly.

"Come on, dude! Lighten up. I just want you to be together so I know I don't have a chance with Y/N, and I can move on." He said, and your face scrunched in confusion and disgust. Who talks like that? You wondered as the laugh track went off again.

"Um. Whatever." Sam said, taking your hand and moving through the bar. A girl ran up to you, squealing in excitement. Her hands were clapping together in front of her.

"Oh my, god! You guys are holding hands. Did it happen? Did it finally happen?! Tell me everything, and don't leave out a single detail!" She said, her voice high pitched and whiney. "Oh! Amber! Y/N and Sam are holding hands!" She yelled to another girl loudly. You opened your mouth to say something, but the other girl appeared out of nowhere.

“Cool.” She said with an emotionless face, cueing the laugh track once again.

“Sam.” You said out of the side of your mouth, leaning into him and making the laugh track go off once again.

"On it." He said, retaking your hand and moving until you found a back room for you to hide.

“We need to get out of here.” You said as soon as the door closed.

"Agreed," Sam said, the audience roaring with laughter.

"Hey, Sam." You said softly.

“Yeah?” He turned to face you.

“I..uh…well, I just can't stop thinking about how all these people want us to get together, it's like I don't know what to think anymore." You said, exposing your true feelings to him.

“I feel the same way.” He agreed, leaning against the wall and hunching his shoulders slightly. “I have been feeling different since we got here, T.V. land, I mean, like somehow this was the right thing. I don’t know what to think anymore.” He said, his fingers twisting together as he spoke. You felt your heart rate quicken in your chest at his words. Could he really want you as you wanted him? You had to know. Had to quiet the racing thoughts in your mind. You licked your lips and let out a puff of air.

"Can I try something?" You asked him, taking a step towards him, making the crowd make one long "ohhh." He nodded and swallowed. You stepped up to him, placing your hands on his chest and looking deeply into his eyes before leaning forward. His hands took your face within them, and he bent down to you, his thumbs moving along your cheeks. Your lips connected, and the crowd went wild, cheering, and hollering. The song started playing, but neither one of you pulled away. This time you opened your mouth to him, letting your tongue run over his lower lip. His fingers twisted into your hair, his tongue caught yours, moving into your mouth and pulling a small moan from you at the feeling. He wrapped his arms around you, arched your back into his chest, pressing yourself even harder against his body. He pulled away and looked at you, running his thumb over your bottom lip. You could see the change in his eyes, could feel it within your own heart. This was right. He was right. You were meant to be. Together, forever.

The rain was warm and hard against your skin. Your eyes took in your surroundings—grass and trees with a heavy moon perched high in a black sky. You were drenched, your hair and clothes sticking to your body. You looked for Sam, finding him walking towards you in the milky light of the moon. His white t-shirt was clinging onto his muscular torso, showing off his abs and biceps. You walked towards him across the field until you were face to face under the night sky. This time there were no words spoken. This time, his large hands wrapped around your thighs, and he lifted you against him, your legs wrapping around his waist. It was your turn to lean down and connect your lips to his without holding anything back, to let your feelings show through the kiss. His hands held you against him as you ran your fingers through his wet hair, feeling the strands slip between your fingers. His teeth took your bottom lip between them, and he bit ever so gently. Your tongue slid against his, tasting him, and the rain at once. He was perfect. This was perfect, everything you ever wanted and more. Your love-drenched brain finally put the dots together, and you broke away, holding his face between your hands.

“We never opened a door.” You said. He looked away for a moment before placing you down on the ground to reach into his back pocket. He pulled out his phone and gun from his waistband. You were back, back to reality.

“We’re back.” He said, echoing your own thoughts.

“We’re back!” You cheered, jumping into his arms once more and latching your lips to his, kissing him through smiles and laughter. The song started playing in the background, and your stomach dropped. Were you wrong? You pulled apart to see Gabe standing there with a boom box above his head. Africa was playing loudly from it.

“Gabriel?” You asked, squinting at him in the rain.

“Glad you guys finally did it! I was going to put you in a musical next.” He said with a sarcastic grin.

"Next time, can you just like talk to us? Or just let us do it on our own?" Sam said, his arms crossing over his chest in annoyance.

"On your own? I wanted you to get there before old age took me." He joked, placing the boom box on the ground. "Alright, alright, I'll take you back to the motel now. Dean has been going crazy for days now."

“Gabe. Why Y/N and I?” Sam asked.

“Oh, right. Some things are just written in the stars. You were each other’s destiny and heaven was tired of waiting.” He reasoned, as if he was talking about the weather. He said, lifting his fingers.

“Wait!” You said quickly. “Why Africa?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“It’s a catchy song, had it stuck in my head for days.” He shrugged and didn’t wait for a reply before he snapped his fingers.

Tags: @spnfanficpond @watermelonlipstick @hot-mess-magee @calaofnoldor @thinkinghardhardlythinking @doctorlilo @shelleyj @enderroyal @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @winchest09

#spnfanficpond #spn fanfic pond #unfic challenge #Sam Winchester #sam imagine #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #SPN #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic

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laf-outloud · 3 years ago

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Jensen's Solo Panel - DenverCon Favorite Bits

My favorite parts of Jensen's Solo panel:

His hair looks so good! I love the longer look.

His story about the military stunt man of unusual size! Loved the yes sirs, no sirs and being able to toss around Jared!

Jensen missing his brother, Jared.

Loved the question about Jensen possibly carrying Dean (the character) into his new roles/auditions. Jensen indicates we may see nuances, but it was difficult not to do the Dean voice and getting a note from Kripke about it. LOL!

His Soldier Boy radio voice!!!

His relaxed posture and comfortability with the panel. He's come a long way from the early conventions.

He hasn't mourned the show or Dean because Dean's not gone.

Wanting to come back and do a reunion!

Character backstory technique - Jensen doesn't typically do that technique, but his new characters have good backstory built in.

Hazing on The Boys, day 1 with Jensen in all his glory. Can't wait to see that!

Couldn't go home during filming The Boys and he didn't go crazy. But "thank God for FaceTime".

LOL! His girls are Daddy's girls! ("Love them some Daddy" Oops, didn't quite come out right.) Arrow is going to be the death of him.

Zeppelin is a momma's boy, but when Jensen came back, he never left his side.

Went home for five days, then back to work for four weeks.

His dancing!!!

The Applebee's song!!! He is in great shape and he can still work it!!!

"No capes, no tights!" (In reference to what he's going to be for Halloween.) I wouldn't object if he wanted to do that.

He'll be back in Austin in a couple of weeks!

90% of the finale script didn't change.

He wishes Jared was there for people to ask him about the finale.

Bridge scene was effective and beautiful, but it would have been fun to have Kansas play and turn it into a wrap party. I still loved what we got and felt it was better to have the focus on Sam and Dean.

Explaining what an aux cord is! LOL!

Old TV static was the battle of the white and black ants. (Never heard it put that way before).

Music plays in Zeppelin's head all the time. Does that happen with other people?

Finale question about things added to it that wasn't in the script. Great question!

Jared probably remembers this stuff better.

Barn scene was only done a couple of times otherwise they'd be an absolute wreck. (I would be too!)

The crew had to turn around or leave the set because it was hard for them to watch it in person.

Doubling up on "I need you tell me it's okay." (Me crying on the floor.)

Tip from Karl Urban: Moments happen naturally, until the director notices and wants to make it intentional, then it's no longer organic.

Jensen fought for Dean to die standing up. "If he's going to die, he's going to die standing." The two of them facing each other was more powerful. (And because of that, we got the forehead touch and the hand-holding!!!)

Jensen can't eat pie anymore without a smirk. Dean changed Jensen's relationship with pie forever.

Paranormal entities aren't targeting someone who played a hunter for 15 years. Jensens "been trained in ghost warfare for 15 years." He has no problems sleeping in a haunted hotel.

All the horses he tried! Cowboy, Texas, then Kevin.

Sees a gorgeous all black horse called Bebe, Jensen's like, it's Baby. That's my horse!

Poor Baby was limping. So a 16 1/2 hand huge quarter horse comes around (biggest horse). The horse named Spanky! "As long as it wasn't Sam, we're good, that would have been too close."

If Jack's character was a girl and not a boy, how would Dean react? "The same? Do we even know what Jack identifies as?" Storyline wouldn't have been affected by gender, "which it shouldn't". Dean might have had extra glances at him, which is Dean's problem.

Would have played Benny if he had to play another character. Due to his really cool storyline and how he developed Dean into seeing the gray area in monsters. He really wanted Ty in his sequence in S15. Besides Sam and Cas, there was a brotherly relationship there. (Love that all these relationships are about brothers!)

Jensen didn't remember 15.19 scene and had to be reminded. He had just lost his best friend, it would have been a huge embrace if it was Cas at the door instead of Lucifer.

The outfit is not the best part of playing a superhero. They're not built for 12-14 hours day of sweating and not good for stunts.

Boots he wore as Soldier Boy were the same boots he wore as Dean. (They're already broken in, why not?)

Misha shows up and Jensen thought it would be Jared (wish it was).

Jensen worked out like crazy during the pandemic so he would have muscles to fill the superhero costume. (Not complaining here).

Jensen was looking forward to leaning into the conventions without stress, but the pandemic happened. (I know he has a quick turn-around to his other show, but I'm glad he was so relaxed here).

Thanks everyone for the restrictions. He doesn't want Jared's show to shut down, or his. (Nor do I!)

Poor Rob and the transition!

I thought it was a great panel and the questions and commentary really covered all of his current projects! I was glad to see less of his Dean character that he's had in previous cons and more just relaxed Jensen.

#jensen ackles #spn denver con 2021 #Jensen's solo panel #long post

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flamencodiva · 4 years ago

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Hunter Encyclopedia: 2 in the Morning

Description: Y/N has traveled the world and faced every kind of monster imaginable which is why the nickname Hunter Encyclopedia, or H.E. for short has stuck. She grew up in the hunting business and knew all about the Winchesters and read the Carver Edlund books before they came to ask her for help. Sam is the researcher and Dean is the action man, or at least that is what she thought, but could she have been wrong?

Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventual), Sam x Reader (Platonic Friendship)

Warnings: Supernatural level Violence.

A/N: written for @spndeanbingo

Square filled: 2 in the Morning

Word Count: 6717

This is also for @supernatural-jackles Bi-weekly Challenge.

Prompts I used: I dare you to kiss me and I don’t owe you an explanation

A/N 2: Border by @talesmaniac89 Beta’d by @emoryhemsworth and a special thanks to @waywardbeanie for the amazing summary!

Dean paced at the foot of the motel beds with his cell phone in his hands. It had been a few weeks since he talked to Y/N “Hunter Encyclopedia” Y/L/N. Even after the conversation they had last time they met, she still seemed to put Dean in a very peculiar box. It annoyed the elder hunter when Sam would get a phone call from her asking about specific research topics she would need, but never seemed to ask about him. Honestly, what made him hesitate to call was how she would react to it, but right now he and Sam were desperate.

Right now they were dealing with some form of Chinese monster that they stumbled upon. Dean got excited because the witness they were talking to had said the word Mogwai. The first thing that popped into Dean’s head was the movie Gremlins, but he had to be careful. He, more than anyone else, knew that sometimes stories changed over time. Naturally, one only had to look at the vampire lore to know that garlic did jack shit to them. Lifting his head from the phone in his hand, he looked at the clock on one of the motel nightstands.

2:00 am

Would she even be awake? If she was a hunter, most likely, but could he really risk calling her and waking her up from the rest she needed? He could feel Sam’s eyes on him before the movement made Dean turn his head.

“Don’t you dare,” he called out, finger pointing at his younger brother. “I’m going to call, I just need to know what to tell her.”

“You mean you need to figure out how you’re going to flirt with her,” Sam sighed as he flipped the page of the book he was reading. “Can you just call her and tell her we have an unknown Chinese monster and so far all we got is the word Mogwai?”

“I was not thinking of a way to flirt with her, I just… shut up,” Dean huffed. “I know what I need to say so I’ll call her,” he declared looking down at his phone once the screen awoke from its slumber.

Sam watched as Dean started the call, placing his phone to his ear. The younger Winchester couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of how his older brother was acting. It was rare to see Dean stumble over a girl, let alone someone who brushed him off easily. Sam chuckled when Dean’s back straightened. He figured that Y/N answered his call.

“Y/N, Dean Winchester,” Dean said as he smiled brightly. “Sorry for calling so late, Sam and I—” Sam watched as he paused and tilted his head in amusement. “Is that the Thundercats theme song?” Dean sounded like a kid being told he was getting ice cream. “Right, sorry, I just—yeah, about my call…Sam is a bit tied up at the moment, we have a very strange case going on.” Sam shook his head as Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to explain, I think it’d be great if you could meet us where we are.”

“Dean, if you could describe what’s going on it would save me the trip,” Y/N’s voice rang in Dean’s ear. He could hear the hesitation in her voice at meeting up with them again.

“Y/N, we really need fresh eyes on this. I mean, all we got is one word out of one of the witnesses, an elderly Asian man,” Dean turned his back on Sam and bit his lip. “I’m not sure what it means or how to even say it, the guy spelled it out in Chinese,” he lied through his teeth.

“I mean, my Chinese isn’t the best,” he heard her sigh. “You know you can send me the picture of the word and I can have an expert look it up for you if you can’t find one.”

God, she was being difficult.

“Y/N,” Dean practically whined, “Sam and I could really use your help here. You helped us out with Ladon, you were quick on your feet,” Dean pleaded. “We could really use you. I mean, what better team could you have to hunt an unknown Chinese monster than the Winchesters and the Human Encyclopedia, Y/N Y/L/N, huh?”

“Dean,” he heard her all but whimper. “Fine,” she gave in, “give me your location, but so help me, if this is information you could have just given me over the phone I will kick you in your balls.”

“Come on,” Dean chuckled, “you know you’re dying to get to know the real me, I can tell. Besides, who says we can’t have a fun little adventure figuring this thing out? You can write about it in your journal for future generations to find.”

“I’d prefer it if this ended up as artifacts of things we never have to do anymore,” she grumbled. “Hunting is not something I would wish on even my worst enemy.”

Dean let out a low whistle. “You have a heart of gold, sweetheart,” he licked his lips. “Sam and I are in LA. Seems this thing decided to hit up Chinatown,” Dean let out a soft chuckle. “You know they have great food here, not to mention all the iconic places.”

“Are you asking me to be there for a hunt or to treat me like a tourist?” she asked.

Dean heard when she stopped packing her things to go join them.

“The hunt, of course!” Dean scoffed in mock offense, “After we take this thing down we can just kick back a bit and enjoy the scenery, you, Sam, and me,” he croaked out pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh,” she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay, I guess hanging out with friends once this hunt is successful sounds fun.”

Dean could hear the hesitation in her voice but stifled the groan at the fact that he had to include Sam in their outing. He turned to glance at Sam and waved his arms while his brother mouthed what? at him and shook his head. Dean put his finger to his lips, signaling Sam to stay quiet as he continued his conversation with Y/N. He gave her their current location with the hope that they would see her tomorrow since it was already past 2 am. Knowing that Y/N was coming made Dean a bit more relaxed.

“Come on,” he sighed before shedding his jacket, button-up shirt, and t-shirt to get ready for bed. “We should get some shut-eye before Y/N gets here tomorrow. Maybe we can talk to some more people and see if we can figure some things out on our own.”

“Dean,” Sam sighed, “why did you ask her to come? We could have—”

“You saw how she helped us with the Greek monster case,” Dean reminded him. “She’s a valuable asset and she can help us in a tight pinch! She helped your ass when the nymphs got a hold of you.”

“True,” Sam smiled, “but then that would mean they liked me more than you. Night, jerk.”

Dean scoffed. “They didn’t like you more than me, they saw me and knew they couldn’t entrap me,” Dean muttered. “Night, bitch.”

Later that same day, after Dean and Sam got at least four hours of good rest, the brothers continued with their investigation. So far, Sam had been able to acquire a book on Mogwai, and unfortunately for Sam, it was all in Chinese.

“Good thing Y/N’s on her way, right?” Dean smiled at Sam, who seemed to have a scowl on his face. “What?”

“Dean,” Sam turned to face his brother. “What are we going to do once she gets here? I mean, we know the name of the damn thing. I can find a professor and you can call Y/N and tell her not to come.”

“Not to come? Sam, we need her,” Dean said as he raised an eyebrow. “She could be an extra set of eyes.”

“Why do you want her here so bad?” Sam asked, crossing his arms.

“She’s a good hunter, and she helped us out the last time we went up against something we didn’t know about. I mean, do you know what a Mogwai is?”

“No,” Sam ran his fingers through his hair, “but it’s not that hard to figure out. I mean, I can research!”

“Awwwww,” Dean mocked, “are you jealous that I’m calling H.E. for help?”

“H.E.?” Sam asked.

“Short for ‘“Hunter Encyclopedia,” Dean shrugged. “I mean, you’re still going to do the thing you love, but she’s coming in as a fresh pair of eyes. Besides, we know she travels all over the world, so why not have her help us out?”

Sam sighed and looked over at Dean. “You’re right, she can help us out.”

“Knew you’d see it my way,” Dean leaned over and gave his brother a playful punch on the shoulder. “Let’s head back to the motel with the book and grab some food. I’m starving.”

Sam stayed silent as they made their way back, but as they got closer, he noticed the familiar car. With a smirk, he slapped Dean on his chest and pointed to the compact 2005 Honda Civic. Dean rolled his eyes at the car. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, not in the slightest, it was just something he never thought a hunter would ever drive, let alone someone like Y/N. He would have pegged her for a convertible girl, a nice Mustang in her favorite color. Dean reached under his seat and pulled out a small package, ignoring Sam’s call as he made his way towards the grey Civic.

Dean adjusted his jacket and knocked on the window watching as Y/N rolled it down. “Gotta say, H.E., I never pegged you as one to drive a Japanese sardine can,” he chuckled softly. “How about I take you out to a car lot after we gank whatever this is and get you a real car?”

“Compared to your very sexy car,” Y/N smiled, “I don’t have to stop every few miles to gas up. Are you going to let me get out or keep leaning on my door all day?”

Dean jumped back slightly and blushed in embarrassment, the package he had for her behind his back. “Sorry,” he waited for her to close the window and climb out of the car. “Gotta say, I didn’t really expect you to get here until tomorrow. You okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighed as she turned around to flip her chair forward to reach for her bag, missing the way Dean tilted his head as he checked out her ass. “I sorta drove as fast as I could to get here, kinda stayed up all night.”

“Shit, Y/N,” Dean cursed as he reached for her bag. “You can stay with us in our room. You should take a nap.”

Y/N shook her head stifling a soft yawn. “This is nothing. I’ve done all-nighters before, and you said it was urgent.”

Dean kicked himself mentally for doing this. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he should have just told her what they had found and sent her pictures of the text.

“Were you on a hunt?” Dean asked curiously.

“More like hunting for more artifacts,” Y/N sighed. “Got a tip on some more resources and books on some ancient things. I do have a trip to Turkey planned in the next couple of months. I have a contact who says he got some information on a different kind of Djinn, a real-life Genie. They’re not the ones we encounter here, but they seem more like a dying breed than anything else.”

“So they actually grant wishes?” Dean asked as he led her to their room. “Because I can say I was captured by𑁋”

“Djinn, yeah, I heard. How was that? I mean, I know they put you in an induced dream state that reflects your innermost desires,” she started to ramble, “but I know other Djinns induce fear and panic or just give you a recurring nightmare.”

“You could say that,” Dean sighed as he placed her bag on his bed. “You can use my bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“What? No, I can take the couch. I don’t want to take your bed away𑁋”

“You’re not, I promise.” Dean held up his hand and walked over to the small table, placing the package on top of it. “You go ahead and nap, Sam and I will order food and show you what we found.”

Y/N nodded reluctantly and let Dean help her into his bed. Something about the way the huntress curled up onto the pillow had Dean yearning to caress her cheek, but he thought better of it. They were just starting to become friends, he didn’t want her to think that she was a conquest. Then again, he wouldn’t mind if he was able to steal a few kisses from her, or more. Dean was amazed at how fast she fell asleep.

Dean and Sam ordered Chinese food from a local place close by, making sure to save some for Y/N for when she woke up. It didn’t take long for the aroma of food to rouse the sleeping huntress.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean joked. “Sleep okay?”

Y/N simply nodded as she let out a small groan and stretched. Dean couldn’t help but bite his lower lip at how adorable she looked, her hair a mess, and her shirt slightly askew. With one last stretch and a roll of her neck and shoulders, Y/N got up from the bed and made her way towards the table where Dean helped her to her seat. He offered her a container of food, which she happily accepted while grabbing a pair of chopsticks to use.

Sam and Dean seemed to have a silent conversation as she ate. She could feel the tension building between the brothers. She had read countless times how the brothers seemed to be able to have a telepathic conversation. She could tell it was from years of having to take care of each other. Y/N, on the other hand, never had siblings. She’d always been alone, having to fend for herself. Her father didn’t get into hunting later as John Winchester did, he was bred for it. Her mother was killed by a shifter pretending to be him, which led him on a crusade to end all the shifters he could.

Her father every now and then remembered he had a daughter who needed him. Not to say he didn’t have his moments, but Y/N learned to be compliant and become a good soldier. The way he spoke of her mother and the heartbreak he endured caused her to turn to books and lore for solace. It also helped keep her father alive when she found information that he could use to his advantage.

After swallowing a few mouthfuls of food, Y/N put down the container and took a sip of the beer Dean had placed in front of her. “So, what have you got so far in terms of information?” she asked, breaking the silence. “I mean, you guys are having trouble identifying the thing right? Are there any characteristics that you can tell me? Things that this thing might do that seem like a habit?”

“Oh, it’s called a Mogwai,” Sam said before his smile fell and he looked over at Dean who was ready to murder him.

“Really?” Y/N turned to look at Dean and raised her eyebrow at him. “How did you figure it out?”

“Well, H.E., you see,” Dean let out a small nervous chuckle, “we were coming back from talking to more people and found someone who could translate the word we got,” he let out beautifully, mentally patting himself in the back for being so smooth. “I mean, I was going to call you when we got back but then, well𑁋” he broke off and motioned to the bed and smiled.

“Right,” Y/N gave him a suspicious glare and nodded while clicking her tongue, “ you know it’s a thing called a Mogwai, so what does it do?”

“We don’t know,” Sam spoke up. “So far we’ve come across a shit ton of mischievous encounters and accidents that don’t seem normal.”

“Okay,” Y/N turned to Sam and smiled, “did you guys find anything useful on your second go-around with witnesses?”

“We found a book,” Sam answered, getting up from his chair and walking over to the bag on his bed and procuring the book. “We can’t really read it because it’s all in Chinese.”

“You know,” Y/N said as she turned to Dean, “you owe me big time for getting me out here. You know you guys are more than capable of handling this thing on your own.”

“Y/N, come on!” Dean whined. “You know as well as I do that if it wasn’t for your sharp senses Sam would be under the influence of nymphs and Ladon would have made me his dinner if I went to attack him head-on.”

“Dean𑁋”

“Y/N, what’s so wrong with you giving us a bit of extra hunter power, huh?” Dean asked, giving her a slightly pleading look.

Y/N tilted her head at Dean before shifting her attention to Sam and giving him a silent look. When Sam shrugged she sighed, closed her eyes, and rubbed at her temples. When she opened her eyes she gave a nod and stood from her seat, grabbing the container and chopsticks. Dean watched as she paced at the foot of the two beds, shoveling the food into her mouth. Her face was pensive, different from when they had to hunt Ladon.

“Fine,” she let out, “I will help you out.” She pointed to Dean before speaking again. “The only reason why I am helping you is that for some reason, some of these monsters from outside the States seem to be coming here, and since I have been traveling quite a bit recently, I can be useful in getting things straightened out.”

Dean happily slapped the table and let out a small cheer. “Yes! Thank you! See, you hunting with us, we are going to make an awesome team!”

“Winchester,” Y/N shook her head and placed her now empty container in the trash before turning to the green-eyed hunter. “You are not to call me for Shifters, Vamps, Rugarus, Werewolves, Djinns, Vetala, Leviathan, or any other supernatural creature that I know you know how to gank.”

By the end of her list, Y/N had walked over to him, poking his chest with every creature she named. Dean couldn’t help but swallow thickly as he gazed into her eyes. There was something there, he could see it, but he wasn’t sure what it was. When she backed away, Dean let out a sigh of relief. He continued to observe her as she went to her bag and began ruffling through it. Y/N had taken out her scanner, a portable printer, her laptop, and her battered up, almost full journal.

“Okay, do you have anything that I may need to scan to try to run it through my translator app on my laptop?” She asked looking at Sam. “I can’t guarantee success, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam snapped out of his trance having watched her handle his brother. “A guy gave us this book; he said it would tell us what we needed to know about the Mogwai.”

“You know,” Dean let out trying to join the conversation, “that damn name sounds familiar to me.”

“What? Mogwai?” Y/N let out a scoff. “I can’t believe you don’t recognize it. It’s what the fluffy gremlin was named in the movie Gremlins.”

“Holy shit! That’s it!” Dean clapped his hands. “So is it anything like the movie? I mean, what, uh𑁋no getting it wet or feeding it after midnight right?”

“Not everything is like the movie genius,” Y/N almost sneered before taking a deep breath. “Look, it might be the same thing, there could be some truth to it, but who knows.”

Dean was taken a bit aback at her tone and licked his lips, bowing his head. “So what do you need?”

“Why?” Y/N asked him as she looked up from her laptop. “From you? Nothing, Sam and I’ve got it.”

“Don’t do this again, Y/N,” Dean groaned. “I can help.”

“Can you read Cantonese?” She asked, leaning back in her chair and raising an eyebrow at him.

“No, but Sam can’t either,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but Sam knows his way around a good computer program,” Y/N shot back trying to get back to setting up her program.

“Hey,” Dean slammed his hand on the table making her jump, “I’ll have you know I was shown how to hack and how to look through back doors by one of the best hackers I knew. His name was Frank, and he helped us stay low when the Leviathans were after us.”

“I heard about that,” Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at his attempt to be helpful, “but this isn’t hacking. If you want to help, do you think once the pages are printed and translated you can start reading?”

“I𑁋yeah, I can do that! I mean, I can read,” Dean let out before groaning in embarrassment.

Y/N reached over and patted his cheek. “I know you can, big guy, you must be so proud.”

Dean frowned and shot Sam an angry glare when he let out a laugh before coughing to try and hide it. Dean watched as Y/N put Sam to work scanning the pages of the book and waiting for the translated pages to pop up.

“Okay, I’m not going to waste what little paper I have. Once I see the word, I’ll start printing,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes.

It took an hour before Dean heard the printer come to life and start printing. Once the page was done, Y/N reached over and held it out to Dean.

“It won’t bite,” she let out, “just don’t expect me to keep handing you the pages. I need to do my own reading to make sure I’m giving you the right pages.”

Dean nodded as he took the page and began reading. For the most part, it gave a history of the different Chinese legends. He smiled when he read the next paragraph.

“Looks like there was some truth to how the movie went,” he said. “Listen to this: ‘The Mogwai is a demon that reproduces during the rainy season but is careful not to reproduce when it rains as to not bring good fortune. It likes to cause mischief and self-destruction upon any unsuspecting humans they find as their prey.’”

“Okay, so the whole thing about getting wet is because they don’t want to bring good luck while they screw?” Y/N said as she nodded. “Okay, anything on where they might hang out?”

“Sounds like it’s in every monster’s favorite place to hide,” Dean said with a smile, “any place dark and dank.”

“We’re in LA,” Y/N scoffed, “might as well say the whole city is its playground.”

“Well, let’s not waste time,” Dean said grabbing his jacket. “Let’s go and find it in Chinatown,” he suggested. “I mean, it’s where everything has been going wrong.”

The trio had left the motel room heading right back to Chinatown for their search. It took another few hours before they found the demon: a woman with red eyes and sharp teeth, her ears pointy and her fingers long. Y/N and Dean both used the idea that fire could kill it, much like the gremlins in the movie. Once it was over, Dean pulled Sam aside and cleared his throat.

“Okay, you are going to go back to the motel room and Y/N and I are going to stay out and hang out,” Dean said to Sam, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“What? Why?” Sam asked, tilting his head in confusion, “I want to hang out with Y/N too!”

“You two will have plenty of time to talk later,” Dean insisted, “so just tell her you’re not feeling too hot after I suggest we go out and explore the city.”

“You want me to lie to her?” Sam said in disbelief. “You know she could have helped us over the phone and you dragged her here for what? Because you want her to not have this ‘man whore’ image of you?”

“Tell ‘er you’ve got a tummy ache,” Dean suggested giving his brother a pleading look.

“A tummy ache, Dean? I’m not saying that.” Sam gave his brother his best bitchface.

Dean ran a hand across his face before putting both hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Then tell her you’ve got intestinal distress, something, man! Tell her you can’t go!” He gave Sam a pleading look. “Please? Sam come on, let me just have alone time with her. If I’m going to have a chance to show her that I’m more than just a ruggedly handsome face, I need to spend time with her, please.”

Sam looked at Dean’s face and sighed. His brother clearly had a thing for the huntress that had been given the title Encyclopedia. It was one of the few times Sam had seen Dean desperate to impress a girl.

“Fine,” he conceded, “but you fucking owe me, big time.”

“Absolutely!” Dean agreed, “But for now, you need to vamoose!”

Sam gave Dean a smile shaking his head before turning to Y/N and saying his goodbyes. Dean wasn’t sure what Sammy had said, but he could see Y/N’s face grow with concern.

“So, since Sammy is going back to rest,” Dean offered her a smile, “want to find a good place to hang out, eat some good food and drink?”

“I appreciate it, but I should head back and pack,” she turned to walk away from him. “Thanks for this, it was fun.”

Dean ran after her. “Whoa, wait there H.E.,” he said, cutting off her path and putting his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong with one drink, an arcade game, or a midnight snack?”

“I𑁋” Y/N looked into his eyes and could see he really wanted her to stay. “I guess it could give me a chance to know the real you. I mean,” she offered him a small smile, “you did recognize the theme song to Thundercats, so I’m sure we can talk about a few things.”

“See,” Dean pointed out, “this is the perfect opportunity for us to talk and you can know the real me.”

The two of them walked down around Chinatown before finding a Korean barbecue spot that was open. The conversation flowed and they talked about their favorite books to read, To Y/N’s surprise, aside from Vonnegut and Tolstoy, Dean actually had an extensive collection of books.

“So how come no one knows this side of you?” She asked as she grabbed her chopsticks to pick up a piece of meat that was grilling between them.

Dean gave a shrug before downing the soju Y/N had served him. “I mean, I never really thought about it. I always tried to make sure Sam was the smart one. School for me was just a placeholder until I could hunt,” he said, grabbing a piece of meat from the grill. “I tried, don’t get me wrong, but then we’d move again and I’d have to start over and it just wasn’t my thing. I like being the cool guy, you know?”

“I get that,” she nodded, “but who said you can’t be the cool guy and smart?”

“You got a point there,” Dean said. “At the same time, I don’t really see myself doing anything else but hunting.”

“Yeah, I hear you there,” she knocked back her own shot of soju and hissed as the liquid was warm going down her throat. “I mean, I dove into my books because it was all I thought I was good for, that and my dad didn’t want me to end up like my mom. I𑁋” she paused and offered him a smile, “you’re lucky to have Sam, and he’s lucky to have you.”

“No siblings?” Dean asked and frowned when she shook her head.

“It sucks I know, but Dad really did try his best. I mean, he wasn’t perfect, but he tried.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she stared at the hot burning coals through the metal grate.

Dean rushed over to her side and pulled her in for a hug. “I know better than anyone about dads and their revenge kicks,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” she echoed and pulled away, “thanks.”

“So,” Dean decided to change the subject, “play any video games?”

That threw them into a conversation about arcades and about trying to get as many prizes from the crane machine and learning all the different tricks to win. Y/N was letting go a little more around him, the handsome hunter who she never thought she could ever talk to, yet here she was swapping stories and having a good time. The conversation turned to hunting and Y/N was laughing at a few of Dean’s stories.

“So your brother is closing up the grave and he𑁋” she stopped to giggle.

“He split his pants open, yup,” Dean chuckled. “Needless to say, I took a nice picture of it. I had to, it’s blackmail material.”

“Of course it is,” Y/N laughed.

Dean turned to look at her and his heart pounded in his chest. The way she put her whole body into it as she laughed really had him feeling something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about Y/N that had him wanting to spend more time with her.

“I dare you to kiss me,” he said with a cocky smirk and a wink. “See if any of the stories gave you the right info about how I kiss.”

Y/N let out a snort, turning her face to hide the blush that rose in her cheeks. She blamed the soju for that. When she turned to face Dean, his face was slightly closer to her. Lifting her hand, she playfully pushed it away with a giggle. “You’re such a dork,” she let out shaking her head. “I’m not going to kiss you. Besides, you don’t want to kiss me.”

“Who says I don’t?” Dean asked as he smirked at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes before pointing to Dean and saying, “Fred Jones,” then pointed to herself, “Velma Dinkley.” She poured herself another small shot of soju. “We had this discussion before, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Dean chuckled, “but I think you’re wrong.” Dean poured himself some more soju and smiled. “You really know how to kill a guy who’s trying.”

“Trying to what?” Y/N snorted, grabbing another piece of meat from the hot grill before placing some more on it.

“Trying to have a chance of getting a date?” Dean said casually and quickly moved to pat her back when she started coughing. “You okay?”

Y/N nodded, swatting him away. She must have heard wrong; there was no way that Dean Winchester wanted to go out on a date with her. Her, the nerd of all nerds. The nerd whose head was filled with nothing but brainy information that would turn any guy away. She looked over at Dean, whose green eyes seemed to be awaiting an answer. It was a joke, right? So Y/N did the only thing she could, laugh.

Dean raised his eyebrow in confusion. She was laughing? What was so funny about what he said?

“Sorry,” she let out after her laughter subsided, “it just sounded like you were trying to ask me out?”

“I, um,” Dean gave her an awkward smile, “I was. I mean, is the idea that funny?”

His words sobered her up really quickly. “Oh, oh gosh,” she covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry.” Putting her hands down, she seemed to be focusing on a spot on the table. “That’s a bad idea.”

“To go out with me? Why?” Dean asked, “I mean, we’re out right now.”

“Yeah, as hunting partners, celebrating a hunt that was successful,” she pointed out. “Look, I agreed to get to know you so that I could shed the misconceptions I had about you, but right now, you seem to be trying to prove me right.”

“What?” Dean tilted his head in confusion. “Me asking you out on a date is proving the misconceptions right? How?”

“Look, you’re a flirt by nature and I can’t fault you for that,” she grabbed a glass full of water and took a huge gulp, “but right now, you flirting with me is,” she took a small pause, “let’s just say that we are not each other’s type.”

Dean let out a small scoff, shoulder slumping forward. “You’re still thinking that I’m just a playboy, huh?”

Y/N swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, “I don’t owe you an explanation, that’s how it is sometimes Dean,” she grabbed her wallet from her bag and pulled a few bills from it.

“Put it away, it’s on me,” Dean said as he placed his hand on hers forcing her to put away her wallet. “Look, I will tone the flirting down if I need to but, I do want to be your friend Y/N,” he looked up at her.

“Dean,” she found herself staring into his eyes. She couldn’t help but get lost in them. She could swear there was a small glint in his eyes, but she was imagining things. “Friends is all I can do. I’ve been burned before.”

“You tell me who he is and I can guarantee I can kick his ass,” Dean offered with a smile.

“That’s sweet, Fred,” she smiled back at him. “All I can say is that he used me for nothing more than my brains and said that my looks were nothing compared to the other huntresses he’s been with.”

“Yeah, he’s a douche,” Dean huffed. “I can promise you, H.E.𑁋” he paused and snapped his fingers shaking his head, “nope, you called me Fred, only fair I call you Velma,” he declared. “Velma, I can promise you that, and I am totally saying this as a friend, you are beautiful, and if you let me I could be your wingman!”

“My wingman?” she raised her eyebrow at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? I can filter out the assholes from the good guys,” Dean said. “I mean, you’ve read Chuck’s account of me. Tell me, has he ever written me as some of the douches you know?”

Y/N thought for a moment, and he was right: every story she read, every account she had heard all pointed to Dean being a playboy, but never in any of the stories did she ever hear of Dean treating a woman with disrespect. In fact, in some of her travels, she had encountered girls who had Dean for one night and they all said the same thing: he was a gentleman the whole night and a god in the sheets.

“I’ll think about it,” she conceded. “I’m not really looking for anything. I mean, you know this life, it’s not very conducive for having a healthy relationship.”

Dean couldn’t help but nod at that. “Yeah, I know, but doesn’t mean we have to hide and hole ourselves away from having some fun, right?”

Y/N had to laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess we should head back to the motel. I hope Sam is doing okay. Kind of sad he missed out.”

“Yeah, he’s got a very weak constitution,” Dean sighed. “Poor guy eats healthy just to keep his body from falling apart, unlike me,” he gave her his best Dean Winchester smoulder. “I’m just stronger and fitter. It’s why the ladies love me.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Y/N muttered.

“Why, Velma,” Dean acted in mock surprise, “are you saying you find me attractive?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and bumped her hip with his. “Shut up, Fred.”

When they got to the motel, Dean let Y/N change in the bathroom while he changed out in the room. Sam was laying in bed and awoke when they arrived.

“So, what happened?” Sam asked as he sat up.

“We talked,” Dean shrugged, “got to understand one another. We’re friends. Oh, and I hope you can still feel that tummy ache in the morning because you do have a weak constitution, Mr. Health Nut,” Dean said as he gave his brother a pat on the shoulder before grabbing an extra blanket and a pillow from Sam’s bed and made his way to the couch.

“What? Dean, you𑁋” Sam stopped mid-sentence when the door to the bathroom opened and Y/N walked out.

“Hey Sam, are you still feeling sick?” She asked softly, giving him a warm smile.

“Had some ginger tea, so I’m feeling slightly better,” he forced out with a thin-lipped smile.

“We should get some sleep, I have a long drive back home and I’m sure you guys have somewhere to be,” she climbed into the bed and laid down to sleep.

The next morning as they packed their things, Dean couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N. There was just something about her that Dean just couldn’t put his finger on. Sure she was easy on the eyes, but there was something else, something that kept nagging him about the way she talked badly about herself. Shaking off his thoughts, he finished packing the last of his things and zipped up his bag.

“So I guess you head to Turkey in a few days, huh?” He asked, walking over towards her once she zipped up her bag.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “but I’m sure I’ll be able to grab some good information and artifacts to bring back,” she smiled brightly, her voice giving off a hint of excitement.

“If I wasn’t afraid of flying I’d definitely love to join you,” Dean said. “I mean, it’s the Mediterranean, so I’d love to see if you know how to belly dance,” he chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows, earning a smack on his chest from her.

“Can you turn off the charm for two seconds?” She let out a soft giggle.

“Nah,” Dean shook his head, “I wouldn’t be me if I did.”

“Touché,” she muttered. “I’ll see you guys around,” Y/N said as she was about to turn to climb into her car when she stopped and turned back to poke a finger to Dean’s chest. “Remember our deal, only monsters that you have never hunted before mister.”

“I’ll try,” Dean shrugged. “I make no guarantees. I might just want to hang out with you again.”

Y/N rolled her eyes leaving Dean to chuckle by himself as he watched her climb into her car. Once she had started to pull away from the parking lot, he turned to the Impala and Sam who was leaning against the car waving at Y/N who waved back.

“So, are you finally going to call her just to talk or will you only call her when you need her help again?” Sam asked, earning him a punch.

“Baby steps, Sammy,” he sighed, “baby steps.”

Watching the Honda Civic turn away from the motel, Dean found himself itching to call her again. He already missed the sound of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she was excited about a hunt. He swore to himself that he would call her the next day, even if it was just to check in. After all, the way to build a friendship was to take baby steps.

HE: Impala

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mittensmorgul · 4 years ago

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Re: signs that 15x20 is unreal, how about the monkey statue? It's a feature of the Roadhouse in 2x02, so it seems fair enough it would appear in Heaven's Roadhouse. However, it also features in Dean's dream bar in 14x10 and in Lebanon, 14x13. You could say then that it represents Dean's desires ... but actually, both of these episodes featured dangerous fantasies that Dean had to choose to end in order to get what he really wanted. In Nihilism, Dean has to snap out of the supposed ideal reality in order to obtain freedom from Michael's control. In Lebanon, Dean undoes the pearl's granting of his "heart's desire" because although he could get Michael out of his head and also get his father back, it would mean losing Mary, Cas, and Jack, and becoming estranged from Sam. So, I really think that the monkey statue is a massive red flag. (Especially as it seems so prominent in an otherwise sparse set, sitting outside the Roadhouse, between Bobby and Dean - like a third character, or a barrier. Are there other theories about it?)

Also, the saturated colours, vintage vehicles and general retro Americana feel of both the street at the end of 15x19 and the pie festival in 15x20 bear an uncanny resemblance to Charming Acres from 14x19 - which of course turned out to be a false reality created, controlled and violently enforced by the mayor (one of those 'little men in positions of power'), a father who proclaims himself God. So, to me, everything from the end of 15x19 to 15x20 screams false, dangerous dream, which claims to be what you want, but isn't really.

It's the moment that Jack becomes God that everything stops making sense, really. Dean asked God to bring Cas back, but he doesn't ask Jack? Dean's worst nightmare is to be on his own, and yet when he gets to Heaven and finds out he doesn't have to be alone, that everyone is together, he ... drives off on his own???

Sorry, forgot to add: I love the way you said that either 15x20 obliterates canon or canon obliterates 15x20. That sums it up perfectly!

___

HELLO THERE! Before we begin, I have to say I LOVE THE HEN OF LETTERS. She’s ADORABLE!

Okay, now that we have that out of the way, for reference purposes this is regarding this post I made yesterday (linked with an addition I threw on a few hours later, for the sake of keeping it as current as possible):

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/640259612227059712/so-signs-that-15x20-isnt-real-el-sol-beer

Thank you for contributing so much, and potentially saving me having to rewatch to try and catch all the details for sciencing purposes. :’D I’ll take your observations one by one, for the sake of orderliness. :)

1. The Roadhouse Monkey. Sort of an in-joke on the Supernatural set since s2 (Origin story here). It also appeared in the Black Spur Bar in 13.02 where Asmodeus killed the bartender and disguised himself as her in order to get information about Jack out of Dean. Which, if nothing else, serves as a sort of red flag for “this is not what it appears to be.” So what did Asmodeus chat with Dean about with the monkey as a backdrop? Deadbeat dads, running away from home, but still wanting the approval of their fathers more than anything. Imagine that.

Because of how to came to be part of the roadhouse set, with Jerry basically HATING the thing yet directors LOVING it and thinking it made for a great establishing shot of the Roadhouse interior, it also serves as a sort of “cry for help” from the production designers. Like... a “we had no other choice” warning. It was literally the establishing shot of the original Roadhouse’s rubble after it burned.

And also what you said about it above, too. It’s a very meta monkey.

My tag for the monkey

2. YES. THE COLORS. Beginning with 15.19′s final scene and that incredibly weird montage with Sam and Dean’s drive into the fakey-fakey sunset. Like... one out-of-nowhere shot they’d been using in the promo for the finale was the final scene from 2.18 Hollywood Babylon where Sam and Dean walk off the movie set into the “sunset,” which turns out to be a fake sunset painted on a giant screen that rolls aside to reveal the cold grey gloom of reality behind it. Same exact feeling there with the extra-orangey light pervading the finale.

As to the “nostalgia for the past” aura of the episode, that started for me during the bunker montage at the beginning of the episode (and that SONG CHOICE had me cringing too, because heck... that was a depressing way to open the ep... little did I know it would only get more depressing from there). Dean’s precious Dead Guy Robe just gets unceremoniously tossed aside like so much dirty laundry in the room Dean once cared so much for... the old-fashioned alarm clock on his nightstand... Sam doing laundry in a literal machine from the 50′s while he just stands there waiting for it like he has nothing better to do... Dean cleaning all his guns for apparently lack of anything better to do... not being able to find a case and yet not being even remotely interested in exploring the brand new potential of the future and remaining trapped by now-nonexistent duty and the literal actual past... It’s... so wrong in every way.

3. And yeah, the emptiness of Heaven is partly attributable to Covid, but it didn’t have to FEEL completely empty like it did. Like, even devoid of the SIGNS of humanity, with Dean driving completely alone down deserted highways through the wilderness. The Roadhouse was the only tangible sign that anyone else even existed in this heaven, aside from the roads and the bridge in the final scene. Like... where are all these people Dean supposedly cared about LIVING? or... whatever you’d call existing in Heaven as a soul if not living?

And why would Dean’s first desire, when he’d been doing it his whole life and had been most recently doing it within minutes of having died, be to go on a drive? It’s beyond absurd to me. That was not the Dean that Castiel knew and loved. That was not the Dean who literally did everything out of love for the world and the people in his life. That was not the Dean that Cas sacrificed himself for. Sorry, it’s just not.

It’s almost as if all of Chuck’s storytelling power simply transferred over to Jack. It’s almost as if the storyteller interfering was irrelevant and only hindering his story actually playing out. Like the storyteller only needed for Sam and Dean to let their guard down, to believe their free will had won, for them to lose all their agency and become nothing more than irrelevant characters to be disposed of.

You can’t have both things. Either you believe the first 326 episodes of Supernatural, or you believe the 327th. They are mutually exclusive.

#spn 15.20 #the roadhouse monkey #color and temperature #chuck's process #hen of letters

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spn-headcanons-daily · 3 years ago

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Stupid post alert !!

guys, it was 5am and I was bored, and I think I finally (7 months later, hah) figured out what would be the absolutely perfect ending of supernatural for me personally. It's not smart or original and most probably was already invented like three dozen times by different people, but I haven't seen it exactly like that on here, so I decided to write a post about it anyway. So, episode 15×20 "Carry on": logical, interesting enough to watch (for me), with meta narrative and with ambiguous ending for the characters:

We start with the plot of "carry on" as it is. But a lot shorter; it's all a big montage of scenes, but sort of more plot relevant than the original version, faster moving. It takes fifteen minutes, maybe?.. We reach the end on the bridge (except without The song this time) and it feels as strange as it was in the original... but now here's another scene. With Dean clearly on earth. And at first it seems strange, like a cut scene from some other episode added at the end for some reason, until we realize that it actually is! We are being shown different stories. Different endings. The second one, for example, is Dean and Cas escaping from the Empty with the whole army of demons and angels released after them - we hear their voices and then this one cuts short so we don't see what's next (I saw multiple people suggesting this idea for an ending and I really like it, hah. To resolve the "you made it loud" thing). The next one is a big gathering of hunters in the bunker solving some problem or something like that... there are five stories, maybe more, all different plots, some better than others - insert any of wonderful ideas that we all saw in the fandom here. Not every story is complete, these is a narrative, clearly, but we aren't sure what exactly is happening except the main theme of it, like we see only fragments of an episode. Each story feels real at the beginning but then it doesn't. It all feels interesting but quite confusing. Each ending is shorter than the previous one, until the last one is just a good montage set by "carry on my wayward son" - exactly like those recaps of random seemingly important moments in the beginning of the usual final episodes, but all the scenes are new (and probably are just random moments of characters' lives, not fights like in most recaps).

"Wait, that seems completely wrong" - we hear someone's voice over the footage of some strange scene. And now it suddenly ends on a freeze-frame, then the screen changes and we see what it all actually was: it's Becky Rosen, narrating the story for a big conference zoom call with a bunch of supernatural fans. (Some of the faces on the screen are random people, but some of them are actual writers and other people who worked on the show).

"So, which of these versions is actually canon? What happened? I really want to know how the story ends!" asks someone. And Becky answers "Don't you get it?! That's the whole point! They defeated the author, and now his story is over. Sam and Dean write their own story now, and I can write mine, and you can write yours" - she pauses and laughs - "well, I mean, I could call Sam and ask him what's they up to these days, but I really don't want to bother him without a serious reason". People laugh in response, not knowing that she's only half-joking here.

Then people chat for a couple of minutes, giving suggestions and guesses about what might or should happen in the story, or even arguing, and it's mostly short phrases or ideas like "I think they should finally go to the beach", "Are we sure that Jack could be God?", "I'm definitely adding a kiss to my version of the story!" and so on. Someone points out a few plotholes in the endings that we saw before. Someone asks Becky: why aren't there minor characters in her multiple endings - Eileen, other friends and family of the main characters like Garth or Jody, even Jack? And Becky answers that she loves them all, of course, but she is just more used to write for Sam and Dean, so that's better left for someone more competent.

In the very end, Becky looks at something behind her, or someone calls her from behind the screen, and she says something like "Guys, sorry, it's been fun, but I really have to go now. I'm sure you'll manage to find a perfect ending even without me! Carry on!"

And that's the last words we hear when the screen cuts to black

______

I know that's not original at all but I think it would be good. Because it would be still a story about Sam and Dean (and Cas, a little) but it also would be about us, fans of the show. The show brought Becky back in s15 as a good fan, and then defeated the author, so why not use her to end it all? And the life of the main characters goes on, we have a confirmation of it, but we don't see it anymore, we aren't allowed to see it, because Chuck's show is over.

#sp #supernatural #spn finale #spn fix it #spn 15×20 #becky rosen #supernatural ending #spn ending

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

Text

Happily Ever After

Dean x Cas

Word Count: ~1090

Warnings: Fluffy as heeeeeelll.

A/N: This is part of the Rockstar AU, but the only piece of that that’s really relevant to this “plot” is A New Song. It’s straight up rom-com fluff y’all. Plus cameos from the BAU and Harry Styles.

This scene was 100% @stunudo‘s idea, I just typed it out real quick. @fookinghelljensensthighs is also partly to blame, as usual, because... idk, handcuffs and fruit.

More fun shenanigans in this ‘verse coming soon!

(New header in the works, don’t mind me.)

“I dunno, Sammy, I think this was a fuckin’ awful idea,” Dean mutters under his breath, barely audible under the cheers of the audience as they start chanting for an encore. “Jesus fuck, what if -”

“Dean,” Sam says firmly. “We’ve gone over this a million times.”

“What if they…” He gestures around at some of the members of Business As Usual, who have been watching the whole show from sidestage.

“If Bobby trusts their manager, so do I. This way at least we know before we invite them on a real tour,” Sam points out.

“Sammy, I don’t think I can do this.” Dean looks shaky and anxious, now, and his eyes keep darting over to where Cas is checking on the guitar he usually uses for their encore. Charlie is next to him, looking furtively back at Dean every few seconds.

“Bobby pulled every string he’s got to make this show happen on short notice. If you don’t follow through, he’s gonna be pissed.”

“Yeah, but -”

“What did I say?”

Dean takes a deep breath. “Cas is worth being brave for.”

“Yes.” Sam gestures to Charlie, who starts to tug a confused Cas in their direction. “Go on. I gotta get Harry on Facetime.”

“Right,” Dean says, with one last deep breath, and then he turns and marches back out onto the stage, alone. Sam pulls out his phone and FaceTimes Harry, who picks up right away, even though it’s some ungodly hour of the morning where he is. His hair is a wild snarl of bedhead and he’s trying to peel an orange while also holding his phone steady.

“What is Dean doing?” Cas hisses, alarmed, and Charlie has to keep a tight grip on his arm to stop him from following Dean onto the stage. “I’m not ready, I need -”

“Just listen,” Sam tells him. Cas looks dubious.

He gives Harry a quick smile and then turns the camera around, pointing it so that he can see Dean, who has gotten himself set up with a stool and an acoustic. Sam keeps the phone close to his chest, making sure that nobody will catch a glimpse of Harry’s (regrettably recognizable) face.

“So,” Dean says into the mic, and the crowd quiets. “Um… I’m doing something a little special tonight. I want to play you a new song I’ve been workin’ on.” He clears his throat anxiously. “It’s for someone… someone I’m crazy about. These are some things I should’ve said a long time ago, but I’m not great at talking about my feelings, so I wrote about ‘em instead. Here goes.”

Dean sneaks a quick glance over to where Cas, Sam, and Charlie are watching from the side of the stage, and Sam can see him take another deep breath before he starts to play the soft, wistful melody.

Cas’s profile is illuminated by the harsh blue stage lights, and Sam can see the moment it all clicks; Cas’s mouth drops open, and he sways slightly on the spot. As Dean starts to sing about waiting and missed opportunities, a smile spreads over Cas’s face, bright and dazed, until he’s completely lit up with it. He looks happier than Sam has ever seen him before.

The crowd is so silent you could hear a pin drop. Everybody’s completely transfixed by Dean’s voice, his usual growl gone shaky and raw with emotion.

Charlie moves in closer, wrapping an arm around Cas’s waist, so that she and Sam are flanking Cas: her on his left, Sam on the right. Sam drapes his free arm over Cas’s shoulders and squeezes him tight.

He glances back to where Spencer, Penelope, and JJ are watching, a little bit behind him, and wonders how they’ll react. Penelope’s dabbing away tears and Spencer’s watching with rapt attention, but JJ is looking right back at him, or rather, at Cas… so one of them, at least, has already figured out who Dean is singing about. There’s this sharp, knowing expression on her face that makes Sam nervous, for a second, until she flashes him a warm smile and a discreet thumbs up. He feels a little bubble of relief swell and pop in his chest.

He’s feeling a little misty-eyed, but he doesn’t want to let go of Cas to wipe his eyes; Cas doesn’t seem totally steady on his feet, and Sam thinks he might need the support.

On stage, Dean is strumming the bridge, and just before he launches into the last verse his gaze darts back to Cas, taking in the way he’s beaming. Dean grins helplessly too, when he sees it, and the last of the anxious shake disappears from his voice as he belts out the final chorus.

Sam’s so fucking proud of his brother it feels like his ribcage might burst.

When Dean finishes, the applause is deafening.

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, with a little wave, as he gets to his feet unsteadily. “We’ll see you again real soon.” He looks wide-eyed and scared as he starts to walk offstage, eyes locked with Cas’s the entire way.

Sam takes a couple steps back, giving them space, and Charlie does the same, after checking to make sure that Cas is still well out of sight of the audience.

Dean stops, face to face with Cas. They both look stunned. Dean’s hands twitch up like he wants to grab Cas’s, but he can’t quite make himself reach out, and for a moment neither of them move. Sam’s holding his breath. It feels like everybody backstage is holding their breath, even the near-strangers in B.A.U.; they’re all watching, hope and anticipation written all over their faces.

“Please just kiss him already,” Penelope blurts out, and that finally breaks the spell.

Dean doesn’t hesitate any more. He steps in, pulling Cas close, and smiles into the kiss with his hands fisted tight in the back of Cas’s t-shirt like he never wants to let go.

“Fucking finally,” Sam says, exhaling, and Charlie’s practically bouncing next to him, letting out a little cheer.

“It’s like a fucking rom-com. Who does that shit in real life?” Emily is saying, but she’s grinning. Everyone is.

On Sam’s phone screen, Harry is drying his eyes with the edge of a massive white hotel comforter, and Sam misses him fiercely for a moment. He turns the camera back around to mouth a silent “talk tomorrow.” Harry says something that Sam can’t quite make out.

“What?” Sam asks, and holds the phone close.

Harry repeats, “And then they lived happily ever after.”

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fic #deancas #destiel #au #rockstar au #fluff

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skycruise · 4 years ago

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Jared virtual panel Sunday 22 Nov 2020

As with Misha, tried to type as he talked as much as possible. I did get interrupted by a couple of brief phone calls & I’m sure someone will post a video later today, but for now--

--Just got out of the shower. Didn’t do his hair lol. It is SHORT Y’ALL.

--Been a hell of a week, we all know why. Series finale. Shed some tears, watched it at his house, everything came flooding back, was really emotional. Wishes he could see our faces. He feels the love.

--Top 3 episodes and why? Series finale is his favorite, he is a fan of storytelling & looking at SPN as a whole the finale wrapped up things in a way that were meaningful and poignant and “wonderfully frustrating”. #2, Sacrifice. Another moment of seeing deeply inside the boys but they were flipped Sam thinking he was dying vs Dean dying. #3 French Mistake, doesn’t know if any other TV show could have done that.

--Was pie in Dean’s face scripted? Yes and he got to do it a few times! When Sam throws the pie in Dean’s face there is a passerby looking on, that is Bob Singer. It being scripted didn’t make it any less fun.

--How were the first days on the set of Walker? Thank you for asking, it’s been awesome. Strange but incredible. Feels lucky and fortunate to be able to see his kids in the morning and and at night, proud of what SPN was and hoping to recreate some of that with Walker. Learned so much from Sam and wants to do that with another character.

--Bad hair days? Puts on a beanie. Never learned how to do anything with his hair.

--Crossover between SPN and Walker, would Cordell and Sam be friends? Absolutely. Both trying to do their best in a weird world to make it a better place and hopefully ease other people’s pain. Sam and Dean found themselves in situations where there’s no perfect answer and Cordell deals with the same type of things.

--Fave Harry Potter book & movie & spell? Book--Deathly Hallows, Sorry, missed the rest! Oh Expecto Patronus lol

--Craziest/funniest bts moment? 2 moments, one where he was awaiting birth of first son Tom, scene where Sam is chasing Kevin around. Same situation where Jensen was waiting for twins--Jensen getting that call. Just a weird situation where something huge is going on personally while trying to act. Talks about Jensen not having his passport and it had to be all hands on deck to find Jensen’s passport and get him back in the states for the birth.

--If SPN all over again as a different character, who & why? Biggest part of him says he has to be Sam. He would be Sam again. But if he HAD to change he would be Lucifer. Mark made it seem like such a fun character to play. Also possibly Chuck, Rob was phenomenal.

--Would love to do/have reaction videos for cast reaction to reaction videos. (Me too, Jared)

--Had a hard time thinking about who he was going to be without SPN

--How did you start your acting career? Acted in middle/high school. Won a contest to be trophy presenter (pulls out surfboard award thing) at Teen Choice awards, met an agent & auditioned over tape. Was supposed to be premed in school but got Gilmore Girls.

--What is always on your Thanksgiving table? Turkey, as much as possible. Stuffing, pumpkin pie. Big Dallas Cowboys fan so would always watch Cowboys game and make awful turkey nachos (tortilla chips with Thanksgiving leftovers) that night

--How would Sam spend his time in quarantine? Giant library at bunker doing a lot of reading. Would probably use a pedometer to make sure he got his steps in for the day. Sam is an introvert.

--What country would Sam and Dean like to visit on vacation? Puerto Rico. Wishes Sam and Dean got their beach vacation that they had talked about. Not sure if the car could have gotten there. Maybe they could have found some floaties for it lol.

--Were any lines adlibbed or added by him and Jensen (finale)? Yes. In the barn scene when Dean tells Sam to keep going, it was written Sam said he couldn’t do it without you (Dean), Sam thought he should say it more similar to the pilot, which is what they did. First thing Dean said to Say was Heya Sammy and Sam was Dean? Sam thought those should also be their last words on the bridge. J2 tried to convey how they thought the characters felt in that barn scene especially. When Sam says It’s okay, you can go now, Jared thought Sam’s son should say the same to him at his death.

--Sam wearing Dean’s watch in the finale? Jared happy fan caught that. Jared thought it was something Sam would have kept and worn.

--Jared doesn’t catch the reference SamLicker81 lol.

--Jared had a lot of time to think about Sam’s ending, at first he thought it was jarring but how do you feel about anyone’s ending? Would you ever be ok with your own ending? There was a finality to it that no matter what happened it would be difficult to wrap his head around. Once he digested it, he felt it was the best way to tell Sam’s story. Sam tried to live his life the way Dean would have wanted him to life his life. He tried to do what Dean would have wanted. If Dean had come back 20 years later and saw Sam hunting he wouldn’t have liked that, he wanted Sam to live his life. That’s what they all fought for, for whoever was left to live as normal a life as possible.

--Any other props end up at Jared’s house? Yeah he has some stuff. His stand-in Jason had got 2 picture frames for Jared and Jensen, got copies of the last call sheet along with their marks (red tape for Jared, blue for Jensen), and framed them.

--Super excited about producing and acting on Walker, felt like he and Jensen were pseudo-producers on SPN but will be different on Walker, hopefully he can help guide the story in a way that’s best for the show

--Acting advice? Everybody is different. Acting is trying to be somebody you’re not...but don’t try to be somebody you’re not. Don’t try to be like another actor. Just be you and figure out what story you want to tell, remember you’re there to tell a story, commit to who you are and who you have been. There are things you’ve been through no one else has, so don’t discredit that.

--Fave song that reminds you of Sam? Carry on Wayward Son, especially having just watched the finale, it’s such a powerful song.

--Pre and post COVID scripts? They can’t fire me now! Biggest deal with post COVID script was the mandatory 2 week quarantine. There were going to be a lot of beloved characters in Heaven with us but it was just a scene or 2 so they couldn’t really ask Rob, Richard, Samantha Smith, Jeffrey Dean to come sit in a hotel room for 2 weeks for one scene. The Heaven Dean deserved was filled with people but because COVID it ended up being just Sam and Dean.

--One thing he will miss the most? The crew/family. Life long friends made over 15 years. He grew up a lot on SPN, been through so much and so much history with those people. It’s so different shooting Walker right now because with COVID there’s less human contact. Misses human contact (with fans too).

--How did you prepare to shoot Dean’s death? How could you possible prepare to shoot Dean’s death? We shot it in September, I had known about since June or July 2019, had been reading the script since February. Lot of time spent on set was trying not to cry. Massive massive fight scene, shot for 3 days but 30 seconds on screen. One day for after Dean’s been impaled so they wouldn’t have to fight all day then get emotional. Was emotional about that scene, didn’t want Jared to get in the way of Sam’s story.

--Did Sam tell his kid about all the hunting stuff? Yeah of course, told him all about uncle Dean, why he was named after him, and the importance of taking care of himself and not spending his life saying goodbye to friends and family and then his son just wanted to get a tattoo.

--There are tons of shows Jared wishes SPN could have crossed over with. Would have been funny to cross over with Walking Dead, for them to see John and he doesn’t know who they are.

--First people Sam would want to see in Heaven? Obviously Dean. Bobby. Mom. Sully. Sam’s Heaven is mostly Dean. He wanted Sam’s wardrobe from the pilot because that was Sam’s happiest moment, going on the road with his brother.

--If he had the chance to work with Jensen again (and he WILL he says, hopefully sooner than later)...Jensen has a standing invitation to come to Walker, but they will find something somewhere and it will be great.

--What weird or gross food do you enjoy? Jared eats everything and a lot of it. Except olives. Doesn’t really like chocolate despite his sweet tooth. Doesn’t like black licorice. Will try anything once. Loves spicy food.

--Advice for people with anxiety? One thing that’s worked for him is just accepting that it’s not going anywhere. If you’re trying to get rid of anxiety you’ll frustrate yourself. Talks about Eddie Vedder saying he sees his demons as somebody who’s riding in the car with him. Take care of yourself. You got this.

--Grateful for you guys, hope to see you soon.

#jared padalecki #virtual panel #StageIt #creation 2020 #jared panel

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pinknerdpanda · 5 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas, Asshole

Word Count: 1,172 Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam and Cas mentioned Warnings: Dean being a pain in the ass, the fuck word, fluff Requested by: @feelmyroarrrr Beta’d by: @shy-violet-soul - thank you my love! xoxo

A/N: This was written for my Merry Manda’s Christmas Drabbles.

Gif credit x

Merry Christmas, Asshole

“Too bendy.”

Of all the absurd objections he’s made over the last 30 minutes, this one takes the cake.

“What does that mean, Dean? Too bendy?” You sigh, exasperated.

Dean shrugs before flapping his hands around the tree in some semblance of a gesture.

“I don’t know. Will it even hold any ornaments?” He flicks a branch and frowns.

You groan, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to suppress a snarky retort.

“Ok, too big, too fluffy, too skinny, too tall, too pointy, too sad, too bendy,” you place your hands on your hips and kick at the dirt at your feet. “This is getting a little ridiculous.”

Dean simply shrugs again, the nonchalance of the gesture grating on your nerves. You roll your eyes and stomp off, in search of a tree that’s not too whatever. The trudge of Dean’s boots behind you is soft but steady. He knows better than to crowd you when you’re upset, but he doesn’t want to leave you by yourself, either. It’s irritatingly endearing.

Looking through the rows and rows of pine trees you finally spot it. It's absolutely perfect. Not too tall or fluffy, but not skinny or bendy either. It made all the other trees you’d thought perfect before look like garish cartoons. This is the tree.

You turn to Dean triumphantly, only to have your joyous bubble burst when you find him scowling at the conifer. As hard as you’d tried to grit your teeth and endure his piss poor attitude toward your little outing, you’ve had it. That little crease between his brows and frown pulling down the corners of his lips - that’s the proverbial straw that breaks your proverbial back.

“What?!” You roar at him. He jerks his gaze to you, clearly startled.

“Y/n,” he coos, confused.

“No, Dean! What the hell is wrong with this one?” You shout. A young family down the row shuffles along, clearly wanting to avoid the tense scene. “What are you going to say next - it’s too green?!”

Dean’s gaze flicks to the tree before he meets your eyes again.

“Well now that you mention it…”

You’re stomping off before he can even finish his thought. The anger is radiating off you in pulsating waves so strong it feels like crowds of people yards away from you are already beginning to part as you approach.

“Y/n! Wait!”

Dean grabs your arm and you stop, jerking yourself free and whirling on him.

“All I wanted was a Christmas tree, Dean. I didn’t ask for presents or a fuckin’ sleigh ride or a single glass of eggnog. All I wanted was a tree with some lights and a few little ornaments. And you,” you jam a finger in his chest, “have been such a pain in the ass today, now I don’t even want that. Thank you, Dean. Thank you for ruining Christmas for me this year. I hope you’re fuckin’ happy, you asshole.”

You’re halfway across the parking lot before remembering that asshole or not, he’s still your ride back to the bunker. Finding the Impala, you pace back and forth, stewing in your aggravation as you wait for him to catch up.

On your third lap of pacing, Dean appears, his head down and his shoulders slumped. Without saying a word, he unlocks the car and starts it before leaning over to unlock the passenger side door. You slide in the seat and slam the door closed, angling your body away from him as he backs out of the parking lot and steers you both home.

The ride to the bunker is silent, except for the sound of tires on pavement and the steady hum of the heater keeping the cold air at bay. You’ve got the door open and slammed shut behind you before he’s even turned the engine off.

A small part of you knows you’re overreacting. That, in the grand scheme of things, this is really not that big of a deal. But it doesn’t seem to quell the frustration and disappointment running rampant throughout your mind.

The familiar scent of old books and coffee hits your nose as you step inside the bunker and begin to descend the metal stairs. The whirring of 50 year old machines you’ve grown accustomed to is accompanied by the faint sound of music. You’re too focused on marching straight to your room to take note of the song.

Just as you pass by the library, however, the soft twinkle of lights stops you in your tracks. Stepping inside, you find the room has been transformed as if by magic. Strings of white Christmas lights line the walls, casting a warm glow on the rich wood tables and floor. Four woven stockings are hung on the far wall, each painted with a name. Sam. Cas. Dean. Y/n.

Just to the right of the stockings is the most beautiful fir tree you’ve ever seen. Its lush, green needles are wrapped carefully, branch by branch, with white lights, making it seem to glow from the inside out. Red, green and white ornaments hang in meticulously spaced intervals and a lovely golden star crowns the very top of the tree. The music you’d heard earlier, you now recognize as The Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. Your favorite.

It looked like something from a magazine and the sight steals the breath from your lungs.

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”

Dean’s breath against your ear startles you, but when you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, you melt into him. He hums, holding you a little tighter as the tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

He loosens his grip as you turn in his arms, facing him. He lifts a hand to your cheek, brushing away the tears, first from one side and then the other.

“When did...how..” you stutter, drawing in a shaky breath, trying to calm the overwhelming emotions inside you.

“I had Sam and Cas set this up while we went out and then had them make themselves scarce for the evening,” he smiles. “I was trying to surprise you, but I think I might’ve gone about it the wrong way.”

You sniffle, pressing your forehead against his.

“Thank you so much. I’m sorry I yelled at you, Dean. You didn't ruin Christmas. This is...this is perfect.”

He pulls back. “No. You’re perfect.”

“I called you an asshole,” You snort, sniffing again. “Scratch that, I screamed that you were an asshole in public.”

Dean grins. “I know. That’s why I love you.”

He kisses you slow, his lips soft and firm against yours and you hum approvingly when he parts them. You can taste the salt of your tears on his tongue as he kisses you breathless.

Dean pulls away, but presses two more quick kisses to your lips before smiling down at you again.

“Merry Christmas, y/n.”

You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again, chastely.

“Merry Christmas. Asshole.”

---

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags - Stay weird. I love y’all:

@wheresthekillswitch @pretty-fortune @arryn-nyxx @emlostinwonderland @becs-bunker @cookie-dough-lova @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @fandomismyspirit @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @charliebradbury1104 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67 @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @canadianjelly @kathaswings @feelmyroarrrr @lorilane33 @bethbabybaby @myfanficlibrarium @akshi8278 @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @atc74 @anticipate1003 @super100012 @lovesj2m @masksandtruths @ellen-reincarnated1967 @growningupgeek @there-must-be-a-lock @mrswhozeewhatsis @amanda-teaches @cassieraider @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @its-my-perky-nipples @squirrel-moose-winchester @sandlee44 @paintrider13-blog @arses21434 @petra-arkanian-1497 @sasbb23 @princessmisery666

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfic #dean fluff #spn fanfiction #merry manda's christmas drabbles #merry manda 2019 #panda writes #i lost my queue

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spn-safeandsound · 5 years ago

Text

02. Saving the Day

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x02; Wendigo

Word Count: 8,436

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy! Reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

"Dean, please."

"Nope."

"I'll do anything."

"No fucking way, Junior."

"Oh, Dean, come on!" Julia whined, falling back against her seat. "Just one song. You'll like it, I swear."

"I'm not listening to Mariah Carey or Carrie Underwear," Dean scowled at her in the rearview mirror.

"Well, I don't even like country, so..." she shook her head. "And I think you would like Fall Out Boy."

"I think I wouldn't," Dean retorted.

"What about Elton John?" Julia raised her eyebrows at him. "He has older music. My mom loved him."

Dean's face visibly softened when she spoke about her mother. He knew she missed her, especially since the fourth anniversary of her death was coming up. He didn't blame her. Naomi Petersen was a great lady and had treated him and Sam as her own, even though she already had four children to take care of. He could still remember the taste of her famous peach cobbler. He wasn't usually a cobbler man, either, but he couldn't turn down Naomi's food.

"Fine," he gave in reluctantly; Elton John wasn't that bad anyway. "but only one."

The smile that Julia gave him was worth more than one song but he kept quiet, not wanting to give away complete control of his music. If Julia knew that flashing a smile would get her whatever she wanted from him—like it did for the rest of the world—he was done for.

Julia dug her cassette jack that she bought at the last gas station out of her bag and practically climbed over the front seat. She was careful not to hit a sleeping Sam because he really needed the rest; he hadn't been sleeping much since Jess and she spent most of the nights they shared motel rooms making sure he was okay.

She set up the jack and plugged in her iPod, turning it to her mom's favorite song.

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band...

Julia let out a relaxed sigh as she practically melted back into her seat. She smiled softly as she listened to the lyrics, remembering all the times her mom sang this song to her while she was growing up.

Her mom had been a dancer for years in her childhood and well into her adulthood. That was how her parents met, actually. When she was in college, her mom was in a recital that her dad coincidentally went to during one of his earlier hunts. He used to tell Julia that he was mesmerized by her mother and that she really was his tiny dancer.

Hold me closer, tiny dancer...

Dean appreciated the silence that fell over Julia because it seemed like she was always talking. And she was actually staying still, a stark contrast to her chronic fidgeting that drove Sam nuts. What he appreciated more than that was the small and contented smile on her face. It seemed like it was the first time he saw that smile in days; she had been grieving Jess, too, and trying to take care of Sam at the same time.

Despite being two years younger than his little brother, she had always been one of his caretakers.

You had a busy day today...

Dean let her bask in the last few notes of the song and then unplugged the jack, passing it back to her without a word. Julia was just as silent as she took it from him, her lips turning up at the corners when he popped in one of his cassettes.

Sam awoke with a start as the drum beat kicked in. Dean gave him a hesitant look as Julia leaned forward worriedly.

"You okay?" she asked him, trying not to hover as much as she had been the last few days.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam answered groggily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Another nightmare?" it was Dean who asked this time.

Sam cleared his throat loudly, refusing to answer.

"You wanna drive for a while?" Dean offered.

Sam laughed in amazement. "Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that."

"Just thought you might want to," Dean shrugged casually. "Never mind."

Sam looked between Dean and Julia; he could easily read the worried look on Julia's face but Dean's was a little bit harder to decipher. "Look, guys, you're worried about me," he acknowledged. "I get and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

Dean hummed doubtfully. Sam looked back at Julia for her reaction but she just smiled sweetly and looked over to Dean, changing the subject as a distraction for Sam.

"You know, I can drive—"

"I don't think so, Julia," Dean cut her off, causing her to pout at him.

"All right," Sam chuckled and looked back at her. "where are we?"

"Um..." she looked at the handheld GPS that she was in charge of while Sam slept and found where they were. "we are just outside of Grand Junction."

Sam sighed and grabbed the GPS so he could look at the location of the coordinates John gave them. "You know what, maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon."

Dean blinked slowly; Sam always got so depressed when he brought up what happened to Jessica and it was starting to worry him. "Sam, we dug around there for a week and we came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—"

"We gotta find Dad first," Sam finished, having already heard this speech before.

"Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence," Dean theorized. "Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do."

Sam shook his head and focused on the device in his hands. "It's weird, man," he changed the subject and studied the map. "these coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge..."

"What about it?" Julia spoke up, leaning her chin on the front seat.

"There's nothing there," he informed her and Dean. "It's just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

Dean didn't answer as they drove into the town of Lost Creek. They headed straight to the ranger's station so they could look at a 3-D model of the area around Blackwater Ridge.

"So, Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote," Sam sighed as he pointed at the location on the model. "It's cut off by these canyons here. Rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place."

Though Julia was listening curiously, Dean wasn't paying an ounce of attention. His focus was on the huge taxidermized grizzly bear on display.

"Dude, check out the size of this fucking bear!"

Julia smiled at his childlike amazement and added, "And I'm guessing a couple of grizzlies?"

"A dozen or so," Sam confirmed with a grin as they walked over to stand by Dean. "It's no nature hike, that's for sure."

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" a ranger walked up to them, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, no, sir," Sam assured him politely. "we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder. We're just working on a paper."

"Recycle, man," Dean held up a supportive fist.

"Bull," the ranger called them out, his eyes flitting to each one of them. "you're friends with that Haley girl, right?"

"Actually, we are," Julia played along, sending him a sweet smile. "Ranger Wilkinson."

The older man looked charmed by her, though not in a way that she considered sexual. Maybe he was just fond of a kind soul now or then.

"Well," Ranger Wilkinson's voice was considerably nicer, causing Sam and Dean to exchange impressed looks. "I will tell you exactly what I told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying her wouldn't be back from Blackwater Ridge until the twenty-fourth."

Julia nodded understandingly.

"It's not exactly a missing-persons, is it?" Ranger Wilkinson asked rhetorically. "You tell that girl to quit worrying. I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"We will," Dean promised with a smirk. "Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

The ranger nodded in agreement, grabbing his coffee mug off the large front desk. "That is putting it mildly."

"Actually, you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit," Dean said casually. "You know, so she could see her brother's return date."

"I'm sure that will calm her down," Julia added.

Dean had to admit it was nice having a pretty girl around to convince people to cooperate with them. Ranger Wilkinson melted at the pleading look Julia sent him and quickly copied the backcountry permit so they could take it to Haley. He gave it to her with a smile and a fond goodbye as they left the station.

"What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam asked Dean as they walked to the Impala.

Dean gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge," Sam pointed out. "so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

"I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?" Dean said obviously. He gave his brother that had Sam stiffening in irritation.

"What?"

"Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?"

"Since now," Sam's voice went flat.

Dean gave Sam an unimpressed look as he got into the car but before he open his mouth to speak again, Julia cut him off. Sam was delicate right now, no matter how tough he acted, and his emotions were all over the place. She didn't need the brothers to have a big blowout right now.

Dean sighed and got into the car. An hour later—after Dean stopped to make a fake ranger ID—they were knocking on the door of the address they got from Tommy Collins' backcountry permit.

The door opened and a pretty brunette a couple inches taller than Julia greeted them.

"You must be Haley Collins," Dean grinned at her. "I'm Dean and this is Sam and Julia. We're, uh, rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. We wanted to ask a few questions about your brother, Tommy."

Haley pressed her lips together as she looked them over. "Let me see some ID."

Dean pulled the fresh ID out of his wallet and presented it to her with a smile. Haley quickly looked it over and opened the screen door to let them into the house.

"Come on in," her eyes swept past Dean and locked on the Impala. "That yours?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Nice car," she said, impressed. She walked away from the door, leading them through the front room to the dining room. Julia and Sam exchanged eye rolls as Dean gave them a salacious grin, his eyes trailing to Haley's back.

There was a younger kid sitting at the table when they entered the dining room, frowning down at his placemat as he waited for his dinner to be served. He looked up when he heard their arrival and Julia smiled at him in greeting but his eyes quickly avoided her.

"So, if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked Haley as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a hot serving bowl.

"He checks in everyday by cell," Haley brought the bowl to the table. "He emails photos and stupid little videos. We haven't heard anything in over three days now."

"Maybe he can't get cell reception?" Julia suggested.

Haley shook her head. "He's got a satellite phone, too."

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?"

The kid, Ben, looked up in offense at Dean's comment. "He wouldn't do that!"

Ben, who sounded much older than he looked, looked down, ashamed at his outburst. Julia gave him a reassuring smile, hoping that he wasn't feeling uncomfortable in his own home because of them.

"Our parents are gone," Haley informed the three of them. "It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other."

Julia knew a little of what that was like. Despite her dad being alive, he didn't check in with his children much. So, Julia, her brother, and her sisters all made sure they were okay in the meantime. Levi, the oldest twin and only son, always made sure they were all safe. Bethany, the oldest sister, mothered over Julia and Abby like it was her job. Abby, the middle child and previously the only hunter of the siblings, checked in to make sure everyone was keeping up on their self-defense and protective charms. And Julia did all of the above, just making sure that her siblings knew that she loved them more than anything. They didn't always get along but they were family—who didn't argue with their siblings?

From the look in Dean's eye, Julia knew that he could relate to Haley, too.

Sam nodded understandingly. "Can I see the pictures he sent you?"

"Yeah," Haley pulled out her laptop and pulled up the most recent video that her brother sent. A man a few years older than Haley with the same dark hair as his younger siblings flashed onto the screen. "That's Tommy."

"Hey, Haley," the video played. "Day six. We're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow."

Julia caught Sam making an intrigued face and wondered what he saw on the video that she or the others hadn't.

"Well, we'll find your brother," Dean assured Haley. "We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there," Haley replied; she saw the look of confusion Dean gave her. "Look, I can't sit around here anymore, so, I hired a guide. I'm heading out in the morning and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

"I think I know how you feel," Dean stated seriously.

"Hey," Sam interrupted the intense eye staring going on between Dean and Haley, gesturing toward the laptop. "do you mind forwarding these to me?"

"Sure," Haley agreed easily.

The bar they sat in for a late dinner was loud and filled with local college kids on Thanksgiving break. Julia was used to the loud scenery of college bars, though, being a college kid herself, and she had to admit the burgers she and Dean ordered were good. She was just paranoid that someone would catch on to the fact that she was underage—her fake was great but she was always worried every time she walked into a bar.

She didn't drink anything alcoholic just in case. She spent most of her time learning how to research the meticulous way that Sam likes it to be done, both of them searching for any local history of mysterious disappearances having to do with Blackwater Ridge.

"So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic," Sam told Dean as he sat down with a fresh beer. "Local campers, mostly. Still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found."

"Any before that?" Dean asked as Sam opened John's journal.

Julia cleared her throat, looking down at the local newspapers they had collected. "Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. The rangers said it was a grizzly attack."

She slid a newspaper over to Dean, the headline reading, UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA. HIKER'S DISAPPEARANCE BAFFLE AUTHORITIES.

"And again in 1959 and again, before that in 1936," she finished. "Every twenty-three years this happens."

"Like clockwork," Sam commented, opening his laptop now. He moved it so Dean and Julia could see. "Okay, watch this. Here's the clincher. I downloaded that guy, Tommy's, video to the laptop. Check this out."

There was a video on the screen. Sam pressed play, showing a slowed-down version of Tommy's video. Julia's eyes widened in surprise when she saw a shadow move behind the missing man.

Dean blinked. "Do it again."

Sam played the frames again. "That's three frames," he told them. "That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move."

Dean excitedly hit Sam in the shoulder, a know-it-all expression on his face. "I told you something weird was going on."

Sam nodded in agreement, only looking a little annoyed by Dean's smugness.

"One more thing," Julia spoke up. "In fifty-nine, one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. It was a kid and he barely made it out alive."

Dean raised one eyebrow. "Is there a name?"

Julia smirked and passed him the newspaper.

The next morning, Julia, Dean, and Sam set out to find Haley and Ben before they could go up to Blackwater Ridge on their own. They carried multiple weapons because they weren't exactly sure what they were going up against.

The night before, after leaving the bar, they questioned the witness that Julia discovered. He was an old man now but his memory of the night his parents were killed by whatever was out there was still fresh in his mind. The bear—or what the rangers were calling a bear, anyway—had unlocked the cabin the man was staying at, slaughtering his parents while he was asleep. Dean thought that the creature might be a skinwalker or a black dog but he and Sam both agreed that whatever it was, it was corporeal.

Sam wasn't happy about their babysitting job but Dean wouldn't hear about leaving Haley and Ben to fend for themselves. He was adamant that they continue like any other case while Sam was just gunning to find his dad. Julia, on the other hand, went with the flow, not wanting to get in the middle of one of their notorious arguments.

Dean pulled the Impala up to the trail entrance where Haley, Ben, and an older man were talking. They got out of the car, Julia being the only one actually prepared for a long hike.

"You guys got room for three more?" Dean asked Haley as he locked his car.

"Wait, you want to come with us?" Haley said skeptically.

"Who are these guys?" the older man looked the three of them over with disdain—especially the duffle bag that Sam was carrying over his shoulder.

"Apparently, this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," Haley informed him.

The man raised his eyebrows. "You're rangers?"

"That's right," Dean said confidently.

"And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?"

Julia smirked, having had the same argument with Sam and Dean before they left their motel room, and passed by her to stand with Sam. "I told him the same thing."

"I don't do shorts!" Dean called after her.

The man didn't look impressed with Dean's cocky tone. "Oh, you think this is funny? It's dangerous backcountry out there. Her brother might be hurt."

Julia turned back to Dean, begging him with her eyes not to lose his temper on the naïve man.

"Believe me, I know how dangerous this could get," Dean stated firmly. "We just wanna help her find her brother, that's all."

The group of them started up the trail, all six of them walking in a single-file line. Roy—the older man—led them with Haley and Dean in front, Julia and Ben in the middle, and Sam bringing up the rear.

As they hiked, Julia shared some of her trail mix with Ben, who was turning out to be a sweet kid. He didn't talk much—he was clearly very worried about his older brother—but he spoke with her a little about how his freshman year of high school was going.

"Roy," Dean spoke up about two hours into the hike. "you said you did a little hunting."

"Yeah," Roy answered reluctantly, clearly not wanting to talk to the younger man. "more than a little."

"Uh-huh," Dean wasn't bothered by the man's grumpiness. "What kind of furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly buck, sometimes bear."

Dean sped up, passing Roy in line. "Tell me, did Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?"

Roy didn't answer as he reached forward, grabbing the back of Dean's jacket to stop him from continuing. Julia and Sam stiffened, ready to intervene in case the men got a little violent.

"Whatcha doing, Roy?" Dean asked warningly.

Roy let go of his jacket and bent down, picking a stick up off the forest floor. He held it down to the ground, where there was a freaking bear trap, and pressed the stick into it. It popped up, chopping the stick in half.

Julia's eyes widened; Dean was about to step in that!

"You should watch where you're stepping, Ranger," Roy advised Dean with a knowing smirk.

Dean pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw as Roy walked past him, looking back at the others. "It's a bear trap," he informed them needlessly.

"Yeah," Julia rolled her eyes to hide her worry. "We noticed."

As they hiked on, Haley confronted Dean, severely annoyed, "You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffle bag," she pointed out, grabbing Dean's arm to stop him. "So, who the hell are you?"

Julia didn't envy Dean, who now had to explain to Haley what they were actually doing out here. She smirked at him as she and Ben passed him and Haley. Sam paused a little but when Dean nodded at him to go on, he continued and caught up to Julia and Ben.

"You don't eat the M&Ms first?" Ben asked Julia curiously as she continued munching on her trail mix. "That's what I do."

"Well," Julia handed him a couple of M&Ms, which he threw in his mouth. "They're my favorite part of trail mix and I probably wouldn't eat the stuff if there weren't any in there. I save them for last to make sure I eat the healthy stuff first."

Ben nodded. "That makes sense."

"My best friend here is a health nut," she gestured to Sam, who rolled his eyes. "He likes to keep an eye on me."

"You have an insufferable sweet tooth," Sam interjected.

"Bite me," Julia playfully snapped back at him.

Ben gave them a small smile; Julia was happy that she could help get his mind off of his missing brother.

Only an hour later, they arrived at their destination.

"This is it," Roy declared, looking at his GPS. "Blackwater Ridge."

Sam stepped around him and stopped, looking around at the trees. "What coordinates are we at?"

"Thirty-five and minus one-eleven."

Dean wandered over to Julia and Sam. "You hear that?"

Julia stopped, listened, and nodded; the thing was, there wasn't anything to hear. That was the whole problem. There should be some noise considering the fact that they were in the middle of the woods.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "Not even crickets."

"I'm gonna go take a quick look around," Roy told Haley and Ben, causing Julia and the brothers to turn around cautiously.

"You shouldn't go off by yourself," Sam advised, knowing that it was too dangerous for a regular hunter in the woods around here.

"That's sweet," Roy scoffed mockingly and raised the shotgun he had been carrying around. "Don't worry about me."

"Just let him go," Julia grabbed Sam's arm to stop him from following Roy out of the area. "He's an asshole anyway."

Dean made a noise of agreement as Haley and Ben joined them. "All right, everybody stays together. Let's go."

Despite the fact that they all wanted to leave Roy—besides Haley and Ben—they followed the older man anyway. It didn't take long for Roy to find something and when he did, he called for Haley.

She took off at the sound of her name and the rest of them followed her. They came across a campsite that was absolutely ravaged apart. The tents were shredded with some blood on the bigger parts, there was clothing everywhere, and food packages flattened into the muddy ground.

"Oh, my God," Haley breathed.

"Looks like a grizzly," Roy examined the mess.

"Tommy?" Haley called her brother's name, unclipping her backpack. "Tommy!"

"Shh!" Sam hissed at her, jogging over to her side to calm her down.

"Tommy!"

Sam shushed her again and Haley whipped around to face him with an angry stare.

"Why?"

"Something might still be out there," Sam answered.

As Sam and Haley spoke, Dean gently took Julia's arm and pulled her away from Ben. He led her a couple of feet away from the tent, looking at the ground intently. Once he saw what he was looking for, he called his brother's name to get his attention.

"The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here," Dean explained to Julia as Sam made his way over, pointing to where the tracks stopped. "the tracks just vanish."

"That's weird," Julia wrinkled her nose.

Dean nodded at her. "I'll tell you what, it's no skinwalker or black dog."

Sam nodded in agreement and the three of them wandered back over to Haley, Ben, and Roy. Haley was perched on the ground, holding onto a broken cell phone and crying lightly. Julia guessed that it had been Tommy's.

Dean crouched next to her to offer some comfort. "Hey, he could still be alive."

Haley gave him a look, clearly not believing him.

And then, there was a scream from somewhere in the woods.

"HELP! HELP!"

Dean pulled his gun from his jacket as he, Roy, and Sam took off running toward the voice. Julia, Haley, and Ben followed them at a slightly slower speed, all of them hoping that it was Tommy that was alive and screaming for help.

However, when they came upon a clearing, there was no one there.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley asked, slightly out of breath.

Sam looked around cautiously. "Everybody back to camp."

They ran back to the messy campsite where Sam's duffle bag and Ben, Roy, and Haley's packs were missing.

"Our packs!" Haley groaned.

"So much for my GPS and satellite phone," Roy grumbled.

"What the hell is going on?" Haley turned to Sam and Dean for answers.

"It's smart," Sam said bitterly. "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."

"You're saying someone—some nutjob out there just stole all our gear?" Roy's voice was flat as his eyes darted around the trees.

Sam rolled his eyes at the older man and walked over to Dean and Julia, who were each searching the outer rims of the campsite to see if the creature left anything behind.

"I need to speak with you in private," Sam told them quietly, leading them a couple of feet away from the others so they couldn't overhear. "Okay, let me see Dad's journal."

Dean immediately looked to Julia, who pulled off her backpack and unzipped it. She reached in and grabbed the journal from atop the water bottles she packed, handing it to Sam without a word.

Sam flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "All right, check that out," he showed Dean and Julia, pointing out a sketch which looked like a weird stick-figure drawing that reminded Julia of the First Nations.

"Oh, come on," Dean scoffed. "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or Northern Michigan. I've never heard of one this far west."

"Dad hunted one in North Dakota once," Julia recalled unhelpfully. Her dad hadn't been expecting the creature since they normally didn't pop up west of Minnesota and he had come home from his hunt badly injured. Julia's mom didn't let him out of the house for a whole week.

"Think about it, Dean," Sam tried to convince his brother. "The claws, the way it can mimic a human voice."

"Great," Dean muttered sarcastically, pulling his gun from his jacket. "Well, then this is useless."

"What kills wendigos?" Julia asked them.

"Fire," Dean told her. "Flare gun, flamethrower, torch, Molotov cocktail. Anything that can blow the fucker up."

Julia winced; that sounded like hard work especially since wendigos were apparently lighting speed fast.

"We gotta get these people to safety," Sam declared as he started heading back to the campsite. When they arrived, he got the others' attention. "All right listen up. It's time to go. Things have gotten more complicated."

"What?" Haley looked at him in shock.

Julia put John's journal back in her bag as Roy gave Sam an annoyed look.

"Kid, don't worry," he stated. "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Sam replied. "If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave, now."

"One, you're talking nonsense," Roy faced Sam head-on. "Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

"Relax!" Dean warned him, not liking his tone.

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right?" Sam continued, trying to get them to leave. "I'm trying to protect you."

Roy stepped forward, getting in Sam's face. "You protect me?" he laughed mockingly. "I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you goodnight."

"Hey," Julia snapped at him, bristling at the man's verbal attack. "Back off."

Sam glowered at Roy, losing his temper. "It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid, sorry ass out of here."

"You know you're crazy, right?"

"Yeah?" Sam retorted back. "You ever hunt a wen—"

Dean pushed him away from Roy before he could finish his sentence; Julia grabbed Sam's arm, holding him in place just in case he wanted to beat the shit out of Roy.

"Roy!"

"Chill out!"

"Stop it," Haley protested, stepping in the middle of Sam, Julia, Dean, and Roy. "Everybody just stop. Look, Tommy might still be alive and I'm not leaving here without him."

Dean looked at Julia and Sam before sighing. "It's getting late," he pointed out. "This thing is a good hunter in the day but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves."

"How?"

Dean held out his hand toward Julia at Haley's question. She gave him a look, annoyed that he just expected her to have his dad's journal out and ready, and pulled the backpack off her shoulders once again. She handed him the journal and pulled out her water bottles, handing three of them to Ben, Haley, and Roy so they could keep hydrated.

Dean flipped through the journal until he got to the pages about the wendigo. He found what he was looking for, a row of protective symbols that would keep the wendigo away from them, and he and Sam got to work on etching them into the dirt around the campsite.

As it got dark, Roy and Ben started a fire so they could keep warm and be able to see who—or what—was around them.

"Okay, so what exactly are these?" Julia asked Dean, hovering behind him as he drew in the dirt with a large stick.

"Anasazi symbols," Dean spoke loud enough so everyone could hear, Julia having told Haley, Ben, and Roy what exactly they were up against. "It's for protection. The wendigo can't cross over them."

Roy laughed in disbelief, slinging his gun over his shoulder.

Dean gave him an annoyed look. "Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy."

Dean stood up and walked over to where Sam was sitting on a log, a melancholy look on his face. Julia let them have their privacy and went back to join Ben and Haley at the fire.

"So, how do you know about all of this?" Haley asked her quietly.

"Honestly, I'm still training," Julia admitted. "but my family has always been involved and Sam and Dean grew up in this. It's like a family business for all of us."

"Your families do this?"

"My dad and one of my older sisters, yeah," Julia confirmed. "Sam and Dean's dad hunts, too."

"Does it scare you?"

"Yeah, of course," Julia said honestly. "It scares the crap out of me but it's better that I know and help out than other people dying, right?"

Haley nodded and Ben looked thoughtful. Suddenly, a voice—the same voice that called for help earlier—started shouting in the distance. Everyone perked up at the noise, getting to their feet in shock and fear.

Dean pulled his gun out of his jacket while Sam flooded the area in light with his large flashlight.

"He's trying to draw us out," Dean stated, cocking his gun. "Just stay cool and stay put."

"Inside the magic circle?" Roy scoffed, raising his own gun for protection.

Everyone ignored his skepticism as the voice shouted again.

"Okay," Roy admitted. "that's no grizzly."

Ben hurriedly grabbed Haley's hand and burrowed into her, frightened beyond belief. Haley had an equally afraid look on her face and held her little brother tightly so she could protect him.

"It's okay," Julia assured them with a calming smile. "You'll be all right, I promise."

Something rushed past the campsite, too fast for anyone to see. Haley shrieked in fear and Ben squeaked; ignoring her own fear, Julia took a protective step toward them.

"It's here," Sam muttered darkly.

As the wendigo sped past them again, Roy shot his gun. Nothing happened but when he took another shot, it sounded like something took a hit. Whether or not it was the actual wendigo and not a tree, Julia didn't know.

"I hit it!" Roy crowed before rushing out of the protective circle to see just what he shot.

"Roy, no!" Dean called after him. He looked back at Julia, Haley, and Ben and warned them not to move before running in the direction where Roy took off. Sam rushed after him and Julia kept a sharp lookout, flashing her light around every couple of seconds.

They couldn't see what was happening to Roy, Dean, and Sam but they could hear shouting. Dean was calling for Roy and Roy was shouting back but his voice abruptly got cut off, putting them in an uneasy silence.

"Roy?" Dean shouted into the quiet.

Within minutes, the brothers came back without Roy in tow.

The night passed slowly with Dean and Sam taking shifts to watch out for the wendigo. Julia mostly sat with Sam—who didn't seem to sleep even when he wasn't on watch—restless from the lack of bed and intense paranoia she was having.

They didn't talk as they sat side-by-side, Julia's head resting on his shoulder. They often had silences like this, it was comfortable and it was sometimes relaxing just to stop talking and get lost in your thoughts—that was Julia's point of view, anyway.

"I don't," Haley spoke up a half-hour after sunrise. Julia and Sam were in the same spot, against a tree trunk, and Sam was playing with his dad's rosary. "I mean, these types of things—they aren't supposed to be real."

"I wish I could tell you differently," Dean sighed.

"How do we know it's not out there watching us?"

"We don't but we're safe for now."

"Julia said that you grew up knowing this stuff," Haley said hesitantly; Julia perked up at the mention of her name but laid her head back down on Sam's shoulder once she realized that it was just a passing mention.

"It runs in the family," Dean confirmed.

Sam patted Julia's knee, warning her that he was getting up, and stood up when Julia leaned away from him. Julia hopped to her feet right away, picking up her water bottle to take a sip. They walked over to Dean, Haley, and Ben, who were all in the middle of the protective circle.

"Hey," Sam greeted them; Haley stood up to face him. "So, we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I, for one, want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

"Well, hell, you know I'm in," Dean grinned at his brother. "Give them the rundown, Sammy."

Sam opened up John's journal where he used the rosary as a bookmark and started to explain to Haley and Ben about wendigos. "Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means evil that devours."

"They're hundreds of years old," Dean added. "Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian or other times a frontiersman or a miner or a hunter."

"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Haley asked curiously.

"Well, it's always the same," he answered. "During some harsh winter, a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. He becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner party," Ben supplied.

"Exactly," Julia confirmed.

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities," Sam continued on with the lesson. "Speed, strength, immortality."

"If you eat enough of it, over the years you become this less-than-human thing," Dean stated. "You're always hungry."

"If that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?"

"You're not gonna like it," Dean sighed, exchanging a hesitant look with Sam before continuing, "More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time. When it's awake, it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, stores them so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there."

"And then how do we stop it?"

"Well, guns are useless and so are knives," Dean sighed and picked up a bottle of lighter fluid, a discarded but still intact beer bottle, a white cloth; a homemade Molotov cocktail. "we gotta torch the sucker."

After making a couple of Molotov cocktails, one of which Julia was allowed to hang onto after a stern lecture from an overprotective Dean, they started off in search of the wendigo and whatever cave it was hiding in.

They walked around for a half-hour before Sam spotted some claw marks in the trees, all off them high up and covered in blood. There were a lot of marks, making a circle in the trunks high above their heads.

Julia scrunched her nose; why wouldn't the wendigo cover its tracks? It was like it wanted them to find it.

"Sam, aren't these a little too distinct?" she quietly asked her best friend.

"I was thinking the same thing," he agreed with her. "they're too easy to follow."

A vicious growl came behind their group, causing all of them to whip around. Once they were facing the opposite direction, another screech came from behind them again, moving so fast that the trees rustled like they were in a major storm.

Suddenly, Haley screamed and fell to the ground, looking terrified. Roy's dead body fell right in the spot where she was standing, his neck broken so drastically that his head was almost turned around.

"You okay?" Sam asked her as he helped her to her feet. "You got it?"

"His neck's broken," Dean said needlessly; he stood up and urged them back toward the campsite. "Okay, run, run, run! Go, go, go!"

The five of them took off running, trying to get away from the wendigo as fast as humanly possible. Julia and Ben were at the back and when Ben tripped over an overgrown root in the ground, she accidently dropped her cocktail as she went to help him up.

Sam doubled back to help her and they started running again. They were almost back to the campsite when they heard Haley let out a loud scream. They raced toward the sound, stopping when they didn't see Haley or Dean.

"Shit," Julia sighed anxiously, spotting the Molotov cocktail that Dean had been carrying; it was on the ground, smashed to pieces and very useless. "It took them."

Ben didn't look as panicked as Julia thought he would be since his sister was now missing, as well as his brother. He pulled himself together and clenched his jaw, pushing back his anxiety so he could help find Haley, Dean, and Tommy.

"If it keeps its victims alive why would it kill Roy?" he asked Sam as they continued walking back to the campsite.

"Honestly, I think it's because Roy shot at it and pissed it off," Sam replied; Ben nodded, seeming to accept that answer.

Julia kept her eyes on the ground as she walked, making sure that they wouldn't step in any random bear traps that may be lying around. She gasped excitedly when she saw a large M&M in the mud, more of them following a few inches from each other.

"Look," she pointed them out to Sam and Ben. "Dean's peanut M&Ms."

Sam scoffed in surprise and picked one up. "It's better than breadcrumbs."

They followed the trail of M&Ms to one of the old mines that Sam told her and Dean about the day they got into town. There were signs warning them of intense danger but it was dark and hidden in there; a perfect spot for a wendigo to hide.

Julia, Sam, and Ben stepped through the broken door and made their way further into the mine. Julia pulled out her flashlight the darker it got, illuminating a clear path for them. They heard a growl and hid as the wendigo sped past them, leaving the mine; it was probably searching for them.

Once the wendigo was out of sight, they kept going. Eventually they came upon a larger cave. It was full of old human bones that made Ben flinch in disgust. They also spotted Haley and Ben's hiking gear and in the corner Dean and Haley were hanging up by their arms, both of them unconscious.

Julia sighed in immense relief and sped toward Dean, Sam right on her heels. To be honest, she had been so worried about him and was afraid she might never see him again. If they all got out of this alive, she was going to tease him about being a damsel in distress just to see that annoyed look in his green eyes that she secretly liked.

"Dean!" she exclaimed, reaching for his torso to shake him awake. While she did this, Sam reached up and started cutting at the rope that detained him with one of his knives. "Hey, Dean, wake up. Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

Dean grunted as he slowly blinked. "Shut up."

Julia beamed at him and laughed softly, bracing him against her as his rope finally broke. Sam went to help Ben get Haley down and Julia slowly helped Dean sit down on the stone floor.

"Are you all right?" Julia asked softly as he groaned in pain.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean assured her quickly. "Where is it?"

"It's gone for now," she told him.

Haley stood up when she was freed from her ropes, way better off than Dean was. She gasped when she saw her older brother hung up in another corner. She, Ben, and Sam went over to him, waking him up and freeing him from his bindings.

Dean huffed and looked over at the bags Julia had set him down by, spotting a few flare guns that would really be helpful. He grabbed three of them, giving one to Julia, and slowly and painfully got to his feet.

"Check it out," he walked over to Sam with a slight limp.

"Flare guns," Sam grinned while Dean twirled two of them dramatically. "Those'll work."

They started out of the cave, Julia and Dean in front of the group—helping a man that was almost a foot taller than her walk was actually hard work—with Ben, Haley, and Tommy supporting each other in the middle, and Sam in the back to protect them.

The wendigo growled threateningly as it came back into the mine and Julia figured that it was upset she, Sam, and Ben weren't back at the campsite for it to bring home to dinner.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean spoke quietly.

"We'll never outrun it," Haley said worriedly.

Dean looked back at them, his eyes flitting over everyone in the group. Finally, he pointedly looked at Sam last. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"All right," Dean caught the attention of the Collins siblings. "listen to me. Stay with Julia, she's gonna get you out of here."

"What are you guys going to do?" Julia gave him a concerned look.

Dean gave her a dramatic—and only slightly attractive—wink and pulled away from her. He started running back down the mine with Sam on his heels, both of them screaming for the attention of the wendigo.

"Chow time, you fuckin' bastard!" Dean shouted over Sam's voice. "Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby! I taste good!"

Any other time, Julia would have laughed her ass off at Dean's nonsense. Now, though, she had work to do and innocent people to save—she was kind of like a superhero now, she guessed.

She held up her flare gun in front of her as she continued out of the mine, the Collins siblings right behind her. She checked to see if the coast was clear before urging them to hurry up out of the mine's entrance.

"All right, come on," she said quickly. "Hurry!"

"Hey! You want some white meat, bitch? I'm right here!" they heard Dean shout.

He's having way too much fun with this, she thought.

Just as the siblings started climbing out of the entrance they heard the wendigo growling a little too close for comfort.

"Get out of here," Julia urged them, coming to a quick decision.

"Julia, no!"

"Go, now!"

"Come on, Haley!" Ben begged his older sister, reaching for her and Tommy through the entrance.

Once Haley gave in and she and Tommy left the mine, Julia turned around to head back toward wendigo's growls. When she heard quick footsteps, she hid behind the way and held her flare gun up, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

A low snarl from her left caught her attention; she slowly turned to look and screamed when she came face-to-face with the wendigo. She heard Dean and Sam calling her name as she shot the flare at the ugly bastard but it quickly ran off.

Julia didn't waste any time; she sped toward the entrance, hoping that the wendigo wasn't going after Haley, Ben, and Tommy.

"Julia?"

Julia jumped out of the entrance where the siblings were waiting and quickly slipped Tommy's free arm over her shoulder to help bare his weight. "Come on, go, go, go," she urged them. "Hurry, hurry."

There was another loud snarl and the four of them turned around in horror. Although still in the mine, the wendigo had spotted them. It looked absolutely furious in what little expression it had and it was definitely not going to mess around and keep them for the winter.

"Get behind me," Julia ducked from under Tommy's arm, Haley taking her place, and stepped in front of them.

She stared down the wendigo, fearful for her life. The wendigo snarled angrily as it got closer and closer to the entrance, out for blood. It was only a foot or so away from the broken planks when something caught its attention.

"Hey!" Sam and Dean called from behind it.

When the wendigo turned around, both of them shot their flare guns. Their shots rang true and the wendigo burst into flames. Its body burnt into a crisp as it slowly lowered to the ground, finally dead.

"Holy shit," Julia sighed in relief.

"Not bad, huh?" Dean called over to her with a smirk; Julia let out a breathless laugh as he walked over to her, surprisingly cupping her chin and lifting her head to look for any injuries on her face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured him with a tired smile. "How about you? Did it get some white meat off of ya?"

Dean chuckled. "Oh, it fucking wished, shortcake."

Hours later, they had buried the wendigo's corpse so no one could find it, used Tommy's satellite phone to call for medical assistance, and hiked back to the trail entrance. Paramedics, police officers, and park rangers were surrounding the area, offering their assistance immediately.

Tommy went straight into one of the ambulances while Haley and Dean were tended to at the other. Ben and Sam were questioned by a deputy—Sam there in support so Ben would give the officer the correct, but fake, details of what happened—and Julia was questioned by another.

Her questioning was over quickly since she was the only witness the deputy had to talk to, so she quickly took a bottle of water from a helpful park ranger and walked over to the Impala, leaning against the trunk.

She watched as Dean and Haley conversed, likely saying their goodbyes, and smiled when he sent the girl a flirty look and got a kiss on the cheek in return. Same old Dean. Sam and Ben joined them and they quickly said their gracious goodbyes. As the siblings walked toward the ambulance that was bussing their older brother to the hospital, they waved enthusiastically at Julia, who waved back happily.

She was so glad that they had each other and they were all safe. Honestly, she felt great. Despite the fear she had while facing the wendigo, she was pretty proud of herself. She helped save people and it felt damn good.

Sam and Dean walked over to the Impala, their hands in their pockets. Dean leaned against the trunk next to her, sighing heavily.

"Man, I hate camping."

"Me too," Sam agreed.

"Glamping is way better," Julia stated honestly.

Dean gave her a weird look. "What the fuck is glamping?"

"Glamorous camping," she ignored the weird looks the brothers gave her.

Sam's face quickly fell into sadness and Dean gave him a sympathetic look. "Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Sam said sullenly before perking up. "But, in the meantime, I'm driving."

Dean wordlessly tossed him the keys.

"Ooh," Julia squeaked excitedly. "Shotgun."

"I don't think so."

"Fine," she shrugged, unbothered as Dean gently pushed her away from the passenger seat. "At least the driver gets to pick the music."

"Ah, hell, I'm regretting this already."

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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1000roughdrafts · 5 years ago

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Family Secrets: Chapter Fourteen

Town That Never Stops Smiling

Summary: Being transported to Teraw leaves you tired and confused, but the path to the truth is a long and needy road.

Warnings: slight angst, slightly OOC Dean

W/C: 3.2k

Masterlist/schedule

The four of you walk in silence through the field and onto a dirt road. Walking towards the bridge, you peer over at the glistening water underneath it. Dean squints at her, shaking his head, "all right. So where we headin'? Motel? Get some grub?"

Allanah giggles, "no. Here, there are no hotels, as they have no need for them. No one is allowed to travel between the regions without a request from the Head of the Region. From there, the Head provides them with a place to stay, whether that be in his or her own quarters, or at a volunteers. On the topic, we need to be careful about how we interact with the people and places here. It's big enough that we won't be noticed right away, but if we stay in one place too long there are going to be issues," Allanah says while you make your way to the start of the bridge.

"Uh, so what happens if we do get caught?" Sam asks in a whisper, looking around at the decaying bridge and trees that surround it.

As sweet as can be, Allanah smiles, "think American TSA meets intense CIA interrogations," she smirks. "In other words, let's just not get caught." Dean frowns which puts her attention onto him, "you're going to struggle with this the most, Dean, I can already feel it. But Y/N, you've felt it deep down, haven't you? A mother's love is not to be taken lightly, even beyond death."

You keep quiet, peaking over at Dean. He holds contempt in his face, trapped behind that stoic expression but easy to see the swirl of emotion in his eyes. He wants to scream out and ask questions, but what could he say? He has children, or at least a past version of him did and he knows nothing of it, but Y/N does?

Luna - June 26, 2068

Teraw - Region 3

Complete darkness goes so well with shattering silence. I have known nothing other than the darkness and cherish the quiet. The only thing I hate about the silence is that it traps me in a world of uncertainty. With nothing to grip onto, I succumb to the thoughts raging in my mind like an ocean under a full moon; but it is a beautiful thing.

Just as I am trapped in my mind I am trapped in my body. No movement in my arms, torso, hands, legs, feet or face. I can not open my eyes, nor can I move my lips. Absolutely nothing works anymore. Well, almost nothing. Miraculously my ears can hear anything from a train passing by to a mouse three stories down.

I am surrounded by so much noise in the day that I look forward to the treacherous words my mind whispers to me as I lay to sleep. I rely on my ears so much these days, as it's the only sense I've got left. There's this single sound I hear more than anything. It has a set pace, just as a metronome would tick along to keep the beat of a song. Beep. Beep. Beep. I don't live like many others, they say I'm lucky to be alive at all.

I hear my family as they trickle in, their footsteps are quick and loud. It breaks my concentration on the ticking. The stepping stops, I hear sniffling, deep breaths and then suddenly, "Luna, it's your mama. Can you hear me?" Yes, I hear you. I want to say it.

"I should start at the beginning," Allanah sighs, slowing her walk to a gentle stroll. "The two of you, Shirley and Bill you used to be called," she laughs lightly. "You enlisted me as a," she motions her hand around, scrunching her face, "guardian of sorts for your five children, quintuplets," she laughs again. "Wren, Ana, Tullie, Aidan and Luna."

You and Dean lock eyes, "Luna?" he says, pointing at you, "the girl that's-"

"Indeed," Allanah lets out a long breath, watching the ground somberly. "It's very sad what has happened to her," she says. "There's evil in this realm that neither of you could predict. It's what sent me back to Earth, locked me out. It wasn't until after I'd ended things with Crowley and found Y/N that I remembered who I truly was and what you created me to be. I needed to do something, anything, to bring the two of you back to this realm to fix what had been broken."

Coming to a stop at the start of the bridge, Allanah looks into her hands, "your children, they," looking back up between you and Dean. "They are very powerful, yet they don't know it. Not anymore, at least."

"What do you mean?" Sam tilts his head.

"Each of them possess qualities and powers of an element specific to Earth. When Bill and Shirley created this realm, you split the children up into regions. This was done to protect them, or so you said. Teraw was specific to Luna, but with you two gone and evil sneaking in, the regions had grown a mind of their own," she lowers her voice, "it's gotten out of control. Ana was born in Inequescent, but with the latest reincarnation, the family Ana was brought into grew tired and she was adopted by a family here in Teraw. What I know to be happening soon is that because of Luna's sickness, Tullie will be requested to come help her. Horrible things are in store for the regions, unless we can stop it.”

"Like what?" Dean asks.

"This evil... it wishes to gain control of the other regions. After that, other dimensions... like Earth."

Tullie - June 6, 2068 Hemort - Region 4

A day off is a luxury when one has specialized skills in the medical profession, at least for those in Hemort. I usually try to wind down and relax on those two short days, or tune into my favorite channel to watch some gushy movies about how everything always works out in the end, and everyone is just so nice. They make me sick, and yet I can't bring myself to watch anything else. In my day to day life, I don't always get to see the happy endings. Moreso, with my line of work, I see death more than any sane person should. And that begs the question; am I really as sane as I believe myself to be?

I admire the house on the screen and the characters who live in it, wondering what it would be like to have a big house with a yard and a cute dog who gets to enjoy it. There's not much of that here, only the Elite live on large plots of land. Instead, I rent this quaint apartment with the ceiling to wall windows I'd dreamt of having since I was young. When the new owner bought the complex, she planted the most beautiful garden and elegant, tall trees on either side of the building, which is better than the concrete nothingness that resided there before.

Pausing the movie, I unravel myself from underneath the blankets to make some tea, although I'd never be able to make it as calming and tasty as my mother had. The storm doesn't help to calm me either, with the trees rattling against the windows and begging to come inside. While waiting for the kettle to boil, I close the blinds and play the movie. I could stand to miss a little of it if it means I don't have to listen to that screaming sound the wind makes.

While adding honey to the mug in preparation, my phone rings. I'm not expecting a call, so I don't scatter to answer it. I pull the kettle and turn down the dial on the stove before going back to the couch to rummage through knitted blankets for my cell.

"Hello," I say, putting the phone between my ear and shoulder as I make my way back to my tea.

"Hi, Tullie," the voice says, calmly and sweetly. I spill boiling water onto my hands at the surprise, and curse myself for not checking the caller ID. How dare he call me at this hour.

"What do you want, Dan?"

After a heartbreaking pause, he speaks out, "this is not a personal call, okay? I don't care how you're doing. I don't want to know what you're doing. I don't even care if you're hiding from the storm in a cup of tea right now, or watching those stupid puke inducing movies, I-" I hear him sigh, "this is about the hospital," he says swiftly.

"Mine or yours?"

"Why would I be calling about yours? Listen, I have my hands tied on a case over here. I could really use your help. No one has a clue on what to do. They put me on this, but," he pauses and his voice shifts down a tone, "I'm really in over my head."

"How does no one there know what to do? Your hospital is the best out of all five districts."

"This case is really strange, Tu-"

"Don't," I sharply cut him off and take the phone in my hand before he can finish my name. "Please, don't call me that. It's Doctor Marion."

There is a silence between us as I make my way back to the couch, gripping my mug with both hands and the phone resting back on my shoulder.

"You know I wouldn't be calling you if I wasn't out of options, but this girl," he sighs. "She's been out for three weeks. There is nothing in her medical history that would help to explain her state. Her parents have no idea what happened, they said they just found her like this."

"Okay, so assuming it's a coma," I say, mostly thinking out loud. Then back to him, I condescend, "are you sure it's not locked-in state? Er, what about psychogenic unresponsiveness?"

"Of course, what do you take me for?" he says in a short, agitated breath. "Look, it's absolutely a coma with no explainable source. We've taken MRI's and Cat Scans and still can not locate the site of her brain that's causing it."

"Were there drugs involved?"

"No, we did blood work after taken her vitals. No drugs in her system, vitamin levels are all normal and we've been monitoring her brain waves while she's been here. It's like she went to sleep one night and just... didn't wake up."

"It sounds like you've done everything I would have, so why are you calling me?"

"Tu - Doctor Marion, I know you-"

"No, you knew me," I softly yell, foolishly pointing a finger in the air as if he were in front of me. Quieter now, I keep a harsh tongue, "I'm not the same person I was then, you played a huge role in that. I changed myself for the better. I never wanted to hear from you again. The last thing I need is to be reminded..." I trail off before the tear in my eye can drop and listen to the actors giggling on the television.

"Reminded of what?" Dan asks, in that same torturous way he'd always comforted me in the past.

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to bed. You'll get an answer tomorrow." Forgetting the tea, I barricade myself in blankets and cry myself to sleep.

As you walk along the bridge, Allanah continues, “for the first long while that I was here, things were fine. The churches were full, as were the pubs and shops. That’s the way many enjoyed it for a great while, but when those who opened their eyes fought back?” She sucks in air through her teeth, “well, let’s just say blood was shed, and tears were shared.”

She moves her hands around and slows her steps, “allow me to take this back in time. They followed a set of standards. A hierarchy of social standings and if one was not near the top, they were not worth a loaf. The weight of one’s standing held in community intervention in threefold. It started with the preparation and bringing about of their first church. Many thought that if one was of fellowship they were among deities.” She laughs softly, “as I, the only guardian of this realm, knew there were no deities, just little old me. It was comical. And per the two of you, I was never allowed to step in or intervene.”

“That’s stupid,” you mutter under your breath, watching your steps along the bridge.

“Blacksmiths, clergymen, doctors and carpenters were just below, and seen as noble. Those however that farmed land, crops and livestock were seen at the bottom. Along with butchers, dairymaids, tailors, barbers, and the like were noted to be Sepulchers. It’s worth noting, that this system was not one that you two brought in place.”

“Sepulchers?” Sam twists his face.

“No one had an inkling as to why, but it was surmised that it was in reference to those folk being just as untitled as the many of the graves placed just outside of this bridge.”

Dean folds his lips down in a nod, looking around at the piles of dirt outside of the river and under the bridge.

“After segregating with an older congregating with an older woman who called herself Minerva, it was she that determined there was power in numbers. There were more of them than there were in the fellowship and just as one might catch a second wind, they found their strength. It started at first with the announcement. The Town Crier, also among the Sepulchers, had begun his course into the Town Whisperer, and could be found in the benighted area, or circumferential. They conspired many gatherings and prepared for battle, if need be so. The churches grew ever suspicious as their totality grew by the day. Minerva conducted the rough fifty to leave their work for another day,” she sighs, “and then another. This war lasted for years, reaching all five regions and the only thing that I could do was try and protect your children, and carry them through their reincarnations. I had made many, many attempts to reach out to the two of you and all had fallen short.”

She focuses on the boards of the bridge and the squeaking they make as you walk over them, “a man by the name of Henry took to ending the war, and was appointed the Head of Teraw for his efforts. This man’s son is now the Head and Luna’s father in this realm. I wasn’t here to place them into the proper families,” she sighs, “and now I worry he’s stirring up trouble.”

Ana - June 6, 2068

Teraw - Region 3

These briefings make me feel less of who I want to be. I understand the importance of putting together the minds of professional colleagues to come to a conclusion on how to move forward with whatever case we happen to be discussing. However, as someone who works in healthcare, forgive me for stating that I find them to be quite menial. It's usually the same act every day; Dan will turn up late, I drum my fingers on the table, Mary doesn't say a damn word and Nathan does most, if not all, of the talking.

I'm mid-yawn through one of Nathan's monologues as a pink-haired woman wearing sweatpants, a tank top and a light cardigan walks in. I can only assume she is lost with the confusion draped on her face, so I stand to redirect her. Nathan, the natural born leader that he is, smiles and holds a hand out to her.

"You must be Doctor Marion. I'm Chief Nathan Scott. Dean speaks very highly of you." Her confusion is overtaken by a smile as she accepts the greeting, "I understand your decision to be here was quite rash, so we'll excuse the lapse in dress code this one time," he jokes.

I mask a chuckle by returning to my seat and shuffling through my papers. He pulls out his pocket watch and just barely inspects it before looking back up at her. With a careless wave of his hands and a slight shrug he says, "Dan should be arriving soon. If you know him like we do, you would know he's late to everything."

She laughs softly, looking at her feet. "Go ahead and take a seat right there, next to Ana." He gestures over to me and smiles. I do not. "She doesn't bite, I promise." I might.

"Enough," Nathan says as if he's heard one too many of Dan's jokes. Then again, we all certainly have. Dan glides across the room, briefcase in tow, and plops into the chair next to Mary. "First of all," Nathan goes on, sitting at the head of the table. He pulls a stack of papers from his own briefcase and shifts to Doctor Marion. "I need you to look over and sign these before we can proceed, for patient privacy and all that."

"I understand," she squeaks out and inches her chair close to the table. She smiles when she's finished and pushes the papers back to Nathan, who inspects them thoroughly before carrying on with his speech.

"Now, miss Luna's case is of high priority and exceptionally confidential." He classically folds his hands together and leans slightly into the table, facing me and the new doctor. "You see, her parents are what makes this town what it is."

"And what is that, exactly?"

"Powerful," I scoff.

Approaching the end of the bridge, Dean grips onto your arm, pulling you to face him. “I want to know what’s going on. Damn it, Y/N, we haven’t talked in... ten months, and - and now we’re in an alternate dimension where apparently our kids live, and...” he flops his hands down at his sides, looking around before taking a step closer to you, holding up a finger, “and you knew about them?”

“No,” you sigh, “I only had a feeling about it, I - I didn’t know for sure. I don’t even know how to explain it, it was just this gut feeling...” you trail off, not really understanding the whole thing yourself.

Dean rolls his eyes, so you push on, “look, Dean, I’m sorry that you got dragged into this, but-” you take a deep breath, forcefully letting it out. He turns his eyebrows down, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what else to tell you,” you breathe. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That I never should have left? That I wish none of this was happening in the first place?”

He continues to glare, and you take one small step towards him, your bodies merely inches from each other.

“You never should have left, Y/N,” he scowls. “We were heading here from the beginning, Y/N. The only freaking difference is that we spent ten months apart from each other,” he says, voice crawling back into animosity. “I don’t know if I can trust anything you say to me now.”

You drop your voice to a whisper, “I am sorry, Dean, for everything. I’m sorry that I left, again, but we - I can’t change any of that now, so we just gotta get through this, and when we get back home... if we get back home, we can go our separate ways if that’s what you want.”

After a long pause, his face softens slightly, “no,” he says. Clearing his throat, his eyes move around your face, “no, Y/N. That’s the opposite of what I want. I want you. Even through all the shit we went through, I was happy with you. Why can’t you see that?”

Next Chapter

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#dean winchester x you slow burn #dean winchester x you enemies to lovers #dean winchester x angst #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x yn #dean x yn #dean x female reader #supernatural #supernatural fandom #dean winchester #spn #supernatural fan fic #spnfandom #spnfamily #sam winchester #spn fanfic

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writtingsofspn · 6 years ago

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Treat You Better

Request: sam x reader based on the song treat you better by Shawn Mendes where she is in an abusive relationship and sam finds out and tells her he will treat her better than the guy and she ends up trying to break up with the guy and he gets mad and sam saves her and fluff.

Warnings: Physically abusive relationship, violence, swearing

Pairing: Sam x reader

“If anyone sees, tell them you fell, alright?”

“Yeah” You sighed, dabbing extra concealer beneath your eye “I know the drill”

“Y/N” He sighed, leaning casually against the door frame to the bathroom, watching you apply your makeup.

You ignored him, choosing instead to focus on the bruise at the base of your neck.

“Y/N” He repeated your name, lowering his voice just enough to let you know you better pay attention.

You hesitated, staring at yourself in the mirror for a brief second before turning towards him causing the edges of his lips to pull into a small smile.

“You know I don’t deserve you” You only nodded in response “You know I’d never purposefully hurt you” He took a step closer and you had to fight an initial reaction to step back, nodding again “You know I didn’t mean to cause any of this” another step, a finger beneath your chin, a shudder sent up your spine as his thumb brushed down your jaw line, “You know I love you” A small chuckle hung in his voice that always managed to bring a smile to your face.

“I love you too”

He grinned, pulling you into his chest and you couldn’t help but melt into the hug “That’s my girl”. And despite your best efforts you were hooked again.

“When will you be home again”

You sighed, pulling your car into the Winchesters drive “I don’t know whenever were done with our research”

“Why do you have to work so late all of the time?”

“I don’t know” At this point you didn’t even have the energy to come up with a lie, you just needed this phone call to be over. “We just have some stuff to get done.”

“And you really had to go over to their house”

“Why shouldn’t I have gone to their house?”

“Their adults, brothers in fact and they still live together, it’s weird. I just want to make sure you’re safe”

“I just need to finish work ok? I’ll get home when I get home” You snapped, putting your head in your hands.

“Fine” You could hear the anger seeping through his voice “straight home after, we need to talk” and with that he hung up as you dropped your head against the steering wheel and a string of profanities escaped your lips. After last night you really weren’t sure if you could handle something like that again.

You slowly pulled yourself out of your car, locking it behind you. You couldn’t just bail on the Winchesters. Couldn’t go home that for sure. Might as well get to work to distract yourself.

You wrapped three short times on the heavy bunker door, not having to wait too long before the door was opened to Sam’s grinning face. “Y/N, bout time”

“Yeah yeah yeah” You chuckled as Sam bent down to give you a hug before stepping aside to let you in the bunker.

You always loved this old thing, it always felt significantly more like home than your own place, you felt safe, happy here, worries slipping away temporarily allowing you to have a completely clear head. Something you desperately needed now.

“Welcome to the party” You heard Dean call from below as you descended the stairs Sam trailing slightly behind you, unbeknownst to you fighting his urge to place his hand on the small of your back and help you down the stairs.

“Doesn’t look like much of a party to me” You responded walking into the library and taking a seat in front on the coffee mug Sam already had waiting for you.

“well now that you’re here it will be” Sam all but whispered as if he were talking to himself. You didn’t say anything but smiled into your mug with a faint blush on your cheeks. Dean watching the whole thing with a soft smile on his face before tossing a book in your direction.

“Well get cracking sweetheart we’ve got a lot of area to cover.”

You shut the book with a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Well at this point I’ve narrowed it down to 15 possible creatures”

“I’m down to 20 possible locations for the next hit” Sam sighed, looking at his notes.

“Great” You mumbled, looking across the table to see Dean leaned back in his chair, snoring softly. “I’m going to grab some food do you want anything?”

Sam only shook his head, engrossed fully in his research once again making you chuckle. He was the only person on earth who never tired of it.

You pulled the fridge door open, staring absently into it for a few moments before shutting the door and moving towards the cupboard, catching the oven clock out of the corner of your eye as you did so.

The bright green numbers read 11:46 but surely that couldn’t be right, you shrugged it off. You got here at noon no way it was that late already. He would have called by this point, if not because he was worried about your safety but at least mad you were ignoring him.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, deciding it best to at least check. But your phone only confirmed the time just making you more confused. Why hasn’t he called.

You gasped as it came to you. Of course, you were in a bunker, several feet under the ground, there was no signal.

Quickly, you were running up the stairs, throwing open the bunker door and watching as 13 missed call and voicemail notifications came in all at once. You groaned and started at the beginning, listening to each of them, your heart sinking as they started to become angrier and angrier, getting more and more threatening.

You didn’t even make it half way through the voicemails before you gave up on them, debating on just throwing your phone into the woods instead.

Slowly you sank to the ground and sat on the wet grass taking a deep breath. You were so caught up in your own indecision you couldn’t even bring yourself to be sad. You couldn’t keep this up for that much longer. You know you needed to get out of this relationship but what if he was the one. What if this was as good as it got for you, is this not better than being alone forever? At least this way you had someone.

“You scared the shit out of me” Sam’s words broke your train of thought as he became visible in the darkness. “Just ran out with no explanation, are you ok?”

You only shrugged, hugging your knees to your chest.

“Y/N what happened?” Sam asked as he sat down beside you, his arm lightly brushing against your own with how close he sat.

You only handed him your phone, not wanting to say anything.

Sam scrolled through your notifications “Oh, he must be really worried about you”

You sighed, putting your head in your hands. You were beyond sick of lying to him, to everyone. You were sick of pretending you were fine. Sick of covering yourself with pounds of makeup. Sick of who you have become in the past few months. “Listen to one of the voicemails.”

You could feel Sam staring at you with a questioning look but couldn’t bear to meet his eyes as he started listening, burying you face in your hands.

You heard the soft thud of your phone hitting the ground before large, strong arms wrapped around you. He didn’t question you, not yet, allowing you this moment of complete silence just holding you. You could feel deep sobs starting to form in your chest, slowly moving to form a lump in your throat before the first few broke through shaking your body violently as loud, ugly cries erupted from your lips.

Sam hugged you tighter, pulling you deeper into his chest allowing you to sob into his shoulder as he slowly rocked the two of you, running calming fingers through your hair, not saying a word.

Slowly you started to calm down, sobs becoming quieter and more manageable until you were just sitting with Sam with wet cheeks.

“I’m sorry Sam” You whispered in a hoarse voice.

He set him head on top of yours softly squeezing you comfortingly again “you have nothing to be sorry for Y/N”

“Sam what am I going to do?”

“You’re going to go inside, stay in my room, and I’m going to pay him a visit” You could hear the strain in his voice as he tried to keep it steady.

“No” You sighed “I need to go talk to him, everything will be back to normal”

“Back to normal?” Sam cried, letting go of you to look into your eyes. “Y/N you have to break up with him”

You sighed “I’m not sure I can” Running an anxious hand through your hair. “…Sam I’m scared”

Immediately Sam grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly “I’ll go with you, he won’t lay a finger on you Y/N, not ever again”

“Not just that though” You shook your head, looking up at the sky, avoiding eye contact “Sam what if this is my last chance at a relationship” You paused, giving him some time to respond for hesitantly continuing “What if I just end up alone after this”

Again Sam was silent, and stayed that way until you could bring yourself to turn your gaze to meet his. Your gaze was met with big brown puppy dog eyes that killed you.

“Y/N” another squeeze of your hand “I’m sorry but that’s absolutely ridiculous”

You just rolled your eyes, brushing him off. “Y/n” Sam chuckled “You’re intelligent, you’re funny, you’re kind, beautiful, and a million other things that would take way too long to list at this moment. There’s no way you could possibly end up alone”

Again you shrugged him off, this was Sam just being Sam, he was the kindest person you knew of course he’d do anything to cheer you up.

“Y/n…I’m in love with you”

You couldn’t comprehend the words fast enough, giving Sam nothing more to work with than a dumfounded look.

“I have been for as long as I can remember” Sam said, running a hand down the back of his neck nervously. “I’m just saying you have options Y/N it’s not him or nothing. You deserve so much better.”

“You think so Sam?”

“I really do. And for what it’s worth I want to be the guy to give it to you.”

You nodded, scooting closer towards him and resting a head on his arm “I love you too Sam” and even though you couldn’t see it you knew there was a giant grin on the younger Winchesters face which brought butterflies to your stomach as he wrapped his arm around yours and grabbed your hand in his.

“You know we still have one more thing to do”

You sat in the impala just outside of the building you had called home for the past few months. You wondered how Sam had gotten Dean to give him the keys but you didn’t doubt it had something to do with him being asleep.

Suddenly Sam’s hand grabbed yours again, his thumb making small comforting circles. “Are you ready for this”

You looked at the building in front of you, up at your window the lights still on, waiting for you “As ready as I’ll ever be” You sighed, reaching for the door handle but stopping when you saw Sam doing the same.

“I think I should do this alone Sam”

Sam only stared at you, looking back up briefly at your apartment before back at you “I don’t know”

“We both know I can kick your ass” You giggled “I’ll be alright”

Sam sighed, taking a minute to mull It over “If anything happens turn out the lights ok, I’ll come running”

“Alright”

You knocked on your door before you could talk yourself out of it. The door was yanked open quickly and your very drunk boyfriend stood in the doorway, another beer dangling from his fingers, the rest in the apartment on the floor behind him.

“You better have a fucking good excuse” He grumbled, stepping aside to allow you in, not daring to do anything while the door was open.

“I think we should talk”

“Oh really” He laughed “Alright lets talk”

“We need to break up” You said, cutting to the chase immediately, not wanting to be in the apartment for longer than you had to.

“What”

“I don’t like being treated the way you treat me and I’ve stopped believing that you don’t mean it like you say. So I want to break up with you”

He only stared at his drink, swirling the last of it in his bottle before downing it “It’s that Winchester isn’t it”

“It’s my decision” You shook your head.

A glass bottle shattered on the wall behind you as you fought every instinct to flinch.

“You’re a terrible fucking liar”

“I’m not lying”

“Yeah right” He laughed walking over to the window, parting the shades with his fingers to look through them “That’s him out there isn’t it, in that stupid black car he and his brother are always in”

“Can you just focus on this matter at hand” You sighed.

His hand was raised in an instant and a familiar sting on your cheek followed soon after. You stayed sitting on the couch, not moving a muscle.

“You know better than to talk back to me like that”

“I’ll transfer everything to your name for the apartment” You said in a steady voice “I’ll pack my things and be out tonight”

He grabbed your arm as you tried to stand up, throwing you to the ground “The fuck you will” a swift kick to your stomach sent the air out of your lungs “I’ll be damned if you leave me for Sam” Another kick “Fucking” another “Winchester”. You tried to spin away from the last one, instead having it catch your jaw instead.

You tried to crawl to the light switch, your chest crying in protest.

He grabbed your hair from behind you and pulled you back to the center of the room. You cried out in protest, clawing at his hands. He sat on top of you, cocking his fist and punching you squarely in the nose causing blood to flow.

You squirmed till you were out from underneath him, diving once again at the light switch, catching just enough of it to flip the switch.

“Nice try but I can still see you slut” He laughed, dragging you back by your hair once again as you mentally pleaded Sam to hurry.

You were beneath him once again as he took more shots at your face. He really doesn’t learn. You brought your hands up in front of you to protect your face as you started squirming again.

Before you could get anywhere though he was pulled off you. You could hear more punches being thrown but all you could focus on was the stabbing pain in your chest and your inability to breathe properly.

In an instance Sam’s face was over your own. You could see his lips moving and his eyebrows furrowed in worry but couldn’t make out a thing he was saying. His hands grazed quickly across each bruise on your face before slowly making their way to your torso, your body convulsing violently at the slightest touch.

“Sam” You whispered, reaching sluggishly for his hands. Sam didn’t even acknowledge it his large puppy dog eyes raking your body with worry.

“Sam” You called again, putting more force into what you were saying.

“Y/N” He sighed grabbing your hand and bringing it into his chest “We’re going to get you patched up in no time”

“Sam it hurts” You could feel tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“I know it does” He whispered as he carefully picked you up in a fireman’s carry “but you’ll be fine in no time…I promise”

“I know” You wheezed, leaning your head against his chest. “I’ve been through worse”

He laughed, placing a kiss on top of your head as he laid you carefully in the back seat of the impala “That’s my girl”

#Sam Winchester #Sam Oneshot #sam imagine #sam one shot #sam x reader #SPN #spn fanfic #spn fan fiction #spn oneshot #spn imagine #winchester fic #winchester x reader

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alleiradayne · 6 years ago

Photo

Holy Smoke

Summary: Eileen asks Sam to help her out on a hunt in a haunted church. Square Filled: Saileen Warnings/Tags: Fluff, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, dirty talk, giant priest/nun/religion/confession kink. Characters/Pairings: Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester Word Count: 4291 A/N: For @spnkinkbingo, this fills the square Saileen. And I dunno why I went priest kink on top of it, but I fucking did. Because I like it. A lot. Song: Holy Smoke by Iron Maiden

The vibration of her phone in her pocket wrenched Eileen from her thoughts. So entrenched in the depths of mind, the interruption startled her, the pen her hand skittering across the table. With an exasperated sigh, she withdrew the device from her pocket and flipped her thumb across the screen. There she found a text message, and then she looked to the door, staring a moment before leaving the table. She crossed the room and peaked through the blinds, ever vigilant, but she recognized the tall figure immediately. When she opened the door, Sam Winchester filled the frame, sun radiating around his head in a golden arch. For a breath, she stood still as stone, unable to think of anything besides him.

“Eileen? You okay?”

The heat of his massive hand enveloped her shoulder, and a dizzying rush gathered her wits. With a shake of her head, Eileen spoke. “Yeah, I… thanks for meeting me on such late notice.”

Sam stooped through the low frame of the motel door as Eileen stepped aside. “No problem. You know you can call us any time.”

“Where’s Dean?”

“He’s ah… preoccupied back at the bunker,” Sam said as he pointed at one of the beds. Eileen nodded, and he set his bag on it. “I bought a Nintendo Switch and Zelda. He hasn’t come out of his room in three days.”

“A video game? Really?” Eileen wondered aloud. “I didn’t realize Dean was such a nerd.”

“A certain kind of nerd, yeah,” Sam agreed. “Anyway, what’s got you so stumped?”

Eileen signed an obscene gesture as she slumped at her laptop, and Sam laughed as he joined her. “It’s some sort of haunting, but I keep flipping between poltergeist and vengeful spirit.”

“You mentioned a church, right,” Sam asked, intrigued. “Any patterns?”

Eileen shrugged as she turned her laptop to him with several files open. He scanned the screen, eyes flicking back and forth, illuminated so that she noted his unique pattern of hazel. A pale greyish blue that transformed into a golden green near the bridge of his nose, Eileen found herself mesmerized as he read.

Several seconds passed before she realized his lips had been moving. “Sorry,” she interrupted. “Could you… start over? I wasn’t…” she paused, then pointed to her own lips.

Sam blushed a shade of pink she had never seen before as he cleared his throat and looked back to the laptop. “Several deaths of congregation members, but no ectoplasm? I’m gonna go with vengeful spirit.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Eileen said, “But I haven’t found anyone in the congregation with a shady past. None of the people that died were bad, in fact, they were all great philanthropists. Gave to charity, funded scholarships. Lots of rich people doing something good with their money for once.”

“Have you talked to any of the clergy yet?” Sam asked.

Eileen shook her head with a half-hearted shrug. “None of them are willing to talk about the deceased or the church itself.”

A coy smirk crooked his lips, and Eileen forced herself to look away, anywhere but his face lest she give herself up. “I have an idea. Did you meet any of them in person yet?”

“No, just emails,” she said. “I was trying to set up a meeting.”

Without warning, Sam stood from the table and crossed the room for his bag. “I think I have a way in without a meeting,” he said as he opened his bag. From it he withdrew a priest’s cassock and held it aloft. “What do you think?”

“Do you want to go in alone?” Eileen asked.

“Oh, no,” Sam replied as he dug back into his bag. “You’re a…” he stuttered as his eyes blanked, glassy and unseeing a spot at which he stared on the bed. “A six?”

Eileen cocked a brow at that. “On a scale of one to ten, I would put myself at an eleven, but that’s just my opinion.”

Despite the furious blush in his cheeks, Sam laughed. “I meant your ah… your dress size. I guessed. Picked this up on the way out,” he said as he pulled a nun’s habit from his bag. When Eileen remained in her seat and stared, Sam’s face fell. “This is weird,” he said as he looked to the disguise. “I’m sorry, we can try another way.”

“No, it’s a great idea,” Eileen said as she stood. She crossed the room to stand next to him, then picked up the habit. “Wish I would have thought of it before. Then I might not have needed to call you.”

Sam’s frown etched deeper across his lips. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, I… I didn’t mean it like that,” Eileen stuttered. “You and Dean are usually so busy, I worry I’m interrupting something when I call.”

Sam touched her shoulder again, and it took all of Eileen’s willpower not to touch him in response. “Eileen, if we were busy, I’d have told you. But we weren’t. For once, the world’s not ending. Or on the verge of ending. Or something ridiculous like that. And I mean it, it’s great to see you again, I missed you.”

Eileen reared back at that. “I… I missed you, too,” she said as she looked at the habit. “Anyway,” she said with a breath, “we should head over to the church right away.”

Sam agreed with a nod and headed for the bathroom with his disguise. “I’ll be out in a minute.” He shut the door behind him, but not before he looked over his shoulder once more with a quick smile before it closed.

Eileen sat on the bed, waiting, alone with her thoughts. It had been months since they had last talked, longer since they had met in person. Her feelings had waned in that time apart. Distance, in her case, had not made the heart fonder. If anything, it had numbed her. But there in her motel room, with Sam only a few feet away, it all came back in a flood of emotions. Emotions she had intentionally locked away. Hunters could not afford the comforts civilians enjoyed. And yet…

Sam exited the bathroom door donned in a black shirt with its sectioned collar and a full cassock that draped to his feet. Eileen stared, wide-eyed and mouth agape, every coherent thought vanished once more. She thanked whatever gods existed that Sam paid her no mind. He headed straight for his bag, folded his clothes, and carefully placed them on the bed.

When he finally looked at her, he reared back in surprise. “Are you okay?”

“Uh…” Eileen started with a shake of her head, “I… think so.”

“You’ve been acting a little strange,” he said with a furrowed brow. “You sure you’re okay?”

She stood from the bed and rushed to the bathroom. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

With the door shut behind her, Eileen dropped the nun’s habit on the counter and hunched over the sink. A deep breath filled her lungs but failed to clear her head. She stared at the mirror, her emotions so obvious on her rosy cheeks, nose, and ears. Damn him. Damn him and his hair and his compassion. She was being ridiculous, acting like a moonstruck teenager. With a scoff, Eileen pushed back from the sink and stood, spine rigid as steel. She could do this. She was a professional. A hunter. And hunters ignored the sort of distractions she had.

She snatched the disguise from the counter and changed. Nothing would stop her from finishing this hunt. Not even Sam Winchester’s pretty face.

With the veil in place, she exited the bathroom and pointedly ignored Sam. She dumped her pile of clothes on her bed, then reached for a pocket she no longer had, then remembered her phone lay on the table next to her laptop.

Next to Sam.

When their gazes locked, Sam stared as his lips parted and his eyes widened. Eileen forced herself to look elsewhere, anywhere but at him as she rushed to the table and snatched up her phone. But before she moved an inch from the table, the delicate touch of Sam’s fingers—Christ, those long, nimble fingers—touched the back of her hand, and she froze.

“Eileen,” Sam said, voice barely above a whisper. “Talk to me. Please. Tell me what’s going on.”

She should have never called him. “I can’t. We can’t.”

“We can’t what?” Sam insisted. When her lips moved, wordless, a knowing light shown in his eyes as he reared back from her with a sideways glare. “Are you trying to tell me… what I think you’re trying to tell me?”

“I don’t know!” Eileen barked. She couldn’t tell him the truth, the way she felt. God, if he ever found out, they would get far too attached to one another and then…

What? Would it be so bad? Would it really be such a terrible risk? Sam and Dean were the best hunters in the business. And Eileen wasn’t far behind them. Why couldn’t they handle it?

“What are you thinking about?” Sam asked.

Eileen hesitated a beat before she spoke. “Nothing.”

The warmth of his fingers slipped into her palm as Sam replied. “Please don’t lie to me.”

How did he do that? Was she that obvious? “I’m… I don’t know what to do, Sam. I thought…” she faltered on the brink of admitting the truth as she looked him in the eye. There in his hazel gaze she found that for which she searched and submitted to her relief.

Eileen moved faster than lightning. She grasped his head, hair so soft beneath her fingers, then planted her lips upon his for a deep, insistent kiss. In that liminal moment, Sam melted into her, his arms wrapping around her waist and drawing her in close as he returned her kiss. But then the grasp of his massive hands stung her backside as he picked her up and carried her to his bed. Once there, Eileen braced herself for them to fall to the bed together, only for the floor to return beneath her feet. Sam parted from her with an elongated sigh as his eyes fluttered open, then found hers. “How long?”

“About two years,” Eileen admitted as she pried at a button on his shirt. “You?”

“Four.”

Her jaw dropped with a gasp. “Since the banshee?”

Sam’s too pretty smile spread across his lips. “I love that you mark the passage of time by the hunt you were on,” he said as he towered over her. “I love your wit. Your sarcasm. Your strength. Your courage. Eileen, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

Had there been signs? Or was Sam much better at hiding his feelings? Those questions ceased to matter the longer he held her, bodies flush. “I love this,” she said as she fingered his priest’s collar.

He smoothed the fabric of her nun’s veil as the other hand slipped to the small of her back. “Oh, really? Do you have a thing for priests?”

“No,” she laughed, “I have a thing for broad-shouldered men pretending to be priests. Sacrilege and all that.”

“Oh, I see,” Sam mused as he hiked up his cossack and knelt on the mattress. With his delectably imposing figure encroaching on her, Eileen eased back into his arms, and he lay her upon the bed. “You find the perversion of it…”

“Arousing,” she finished for him as her knees parted for his hips. The weight of him settled between her thighs, his stiff cock so hard against her center she felt it through all the fabric that separated them. “Forgive me, Father?”

The heat of his breath on her ear as he moaned raced gooseflesh along her arms. “Confess to me, Sister Eileen.” His lips dragged a trail of kisses along her neck to her collar. “What is it that troubles you?”

Nimble fingers teased at the sensitive skin of her thighs as Sam lifted her skirts, and Eileen tore apart the fastenings of his pants beneath his cossack. “It’s been years since my last confession,” she gasped as his fingers brushed her hips. “I’ve had impure thoughts.”

“Yes, tell me more,” Sam moaned into her neck, his lips plying her pebbled skin. Eileen opened her mouth to reply, but his insistent touch hooked into the hips of her underwear and drew them down to her knees. The cool air of the motel room on her bare flesh, already so wet, sent a shiver along her spine, and Sam hummed a pleased sigh at that. “You must confess, Sister,” he whispered as his massive hands smoothed along her inner thighs.

If Eileen could string more than three words together, she would have. She desperately wanted to, wanted to tell him all the lewd thoughts she’d had of him, of them together over the years. But as his hands neared the apex of her thighs, any coherent thought she might have had fled. Her hands fell from his pants as his fingers parted her sopping flesh, then slid inside.

“Holy shit, Sam.”

That earned her a chastising quirk of his brow. “Sister Eileen, I hardly think that is appropriate language,” Sam scolded as he stroked her core. “Confess or I’ll stop.”

There were a million things to which she wanted to confess. “I’ve imagined you—us—together. In impure ways,” Eileen stuttered, breathless. “Your head between my legs.”

Sam slipped from the bed and knelt. “Like this?” he asked as he bowed, his soft hair and rough stubble brushing along her thighs.

Eileen reached for him, fingers stretched to grasp his hair. The warmth of his breath drifted along her sex as he neared, his tongue reaching. Long and firm, it parted her lips and pressed to her clit as his mouth sealed with a hard suck. As his fingers steadily worked her flesh and his tongue drew incessant circles, she knew heaven had nothing on the way Sam ate pussy.

A lascivious pop broke her concentration, her hips stuttering to a stop as Sam parted from her. When she looked him in the eye, he said, “I asked you a question, Sister Eileen.”

“Oh,” she breathed, voice dripping with feigned embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Father,” she continued, “but yes! I’ve imagined you there, just like that. Your face buried between my thighs as you devour me.”

Sam laughed at that, an honestly embarrassed smile dimpling his rosy cheeks. “Is there anything else you need to confess, Sister?”

God, what next? Return what he so willingly gave? The mere thought of sucking Sam’s cock spun the room with dizzying arousal. But she wanted it, wanted that more than what might follow. “I’ve wondered what you taste like.”

A greedy grin parted his lips as Sam straightened. “Would you like to find out?” he asked as he smoothed the flat of his hand over the bulge of his cock .

Eileen gaped once more, watching, unable to peel her eyes away as Sam teased himself with his massive hand, stroking his length from head to base. The thin fabric of his underwear left little to the imagination, his thick shaft and swollen head twitching with want. “Forgive me, Father, but I would,” she moaned as she pried at the waist of his pants, “please, give me penance so that I may be cleansed of my sin.”

A moan so pathetic slipped from Sam's lips, Eileen worried he might have come untouched. As delightful a thought it might be, she hoped she was wrong. Sam proved his resilience when he hooked his thumbs into his pants and pulled. The heavy weight of his stiffened cock fell free with a hard flex, and Sam gritted his teeth behind his grin. When his calloused hand cupped her cheek, he said, “You will know salvation through me, Sister Eileen. With our divine pleasure, we will be absolved.” His fingers slipped beneath her veil and removed it as the other hand gripped the base of his shaft. “Now suck my cock.”

From polite gentleman to master of the deviant, Sam Winchester could do it all. With a perfectly firm touch, he pressed at the back of her head and Eileen parted her lips. A spark of adrenaline charged through her entire body as the sharp taste of salt met her tongue, the skin of his cock softer than sin. As the tip passed her lips, she sealed her mouth around his girth and looked up to him. Her stared at her, eyes wide and reverent, glinting with anxious anticipation. Each inch slipped into her mouth until her nose meet his pelvis and a reflex withdrew him. He pressed at the back of her head once more, and Eileen obliged. When he pressed a third time, Eileen grabbed his wrists and restrained him, gripped as tight as she could.

If Sam wanted to be free of her grasp, he had plenty of those gorgeous muscles to accomplish such a task. But when he struggled against her grip, she knew he played at his helplessness. “Sister,” he breathed, “what are you doing? You're not supposed to enjoy this, it is your penance!”

Eileen hummed a pleased moan that elicited a bought of delirious laughter from Sam. When she withdrew him from her mouth, she released his wrist to stroke his length. “Oh, but I do, Father Sam, I do enjoy my penance, for it comes from you and you give it to me so willingly,” she simpered. “You give your body to me and I give mine to you, to use however you see fit.”

A deep growl rent the air as Sam grasped her hair and wrenched her head back. “Yes, Sister, I give to you so that you may know innocence once more,” he started, “but until we are both finished, you will respect this cloth. Now, you will do as I have ordered until I am satisfied. Suck my cock.”

Not a word of protest sounded from her open mouth. The swollen tip of his cock slid to the back of her throat in one smooth roll of Sam’s hips as he held her still, then he thrust. Eileen closed her eyes as her cheeks hollowed with each stroke and her tongue swirled around his cock. Decadent moans fell from Sam’s lips, jaw slackened and broad chest heaving as he gasped for breath. The sight of him towering above her as he used her, used her mouth for his pleasure rushed endless waves of arousal to her cunt, already so wet with want.

In a sudden rush of limbs and fluids, Sam snapped his hips back and withdrew from her mouth, only to shove her back on the bed. Massive arms lifted her legs and tore aside her skirts to reveal her sex to him again, though this time he squared his hips between her thighs with his cock in one hand. “I need to feel you, Eileen. I need to be inside you.”

The wild glare of lust in Sam’s hazel shown so bright, Eileen hardly recognized him. But when his sheepish smile dimpled his cheeks, she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him to her. “Fuck me, Sam.”

Another deep growl rumbled in his chest as Sam pressed the tip of his cock to her cunt, then slipped inside with ease. That first stroke, ever so full and spread so wide with his thick girth, elicited a moan so sinful, Eileen’s cheeks stung. She hardly thought herself capable of such sounds, but then, there she lay with Sam Winchester, the man after which she had pined for years, a fantasy come true. And then the second stroke obliterated any coherent thought left in her lust addled mind.

The steady rhythm of Sam’s hips set their pace, rolling in time with hers. Long strings of nonsense fell from their lips, praise and curses and blasphemes alike. Despite Sam’s typical behavior—gentle touches, hunched shoulders, soft gazes—in bed he held himself tall, allowed himself the space to use some of that glorious strength, and glared with unbridled lust. Eileen had never seen a look of such pure pleasure on his face before, so beautiful she nearly wept.

When she rose from the bed, Eileen squawked in surprise, so lost in the moment she had not felt Sam wrap his arms around her. He picked her up by the ass and carried her to the dresser where a tall mirror sat. “I thought you might want see us,” Sam said with a coy smirk. “You looked so fucking hot on the bed…”

“Two kinks in one go, huh?” Eileen jested.

Bless his heart, but Sam still blushed, even in the middle of fucking a woman in a nun’s habit. “I… may have more.”

Eileen rolled her hips as a reminder of where he was. Sam gasped at the sudden friction, his own hips responding in kind. “I hope there’s leather involved in a few.”

“Fuck, Eileen, there’s so much leather…” he moaned into her neck as he returned to his pace, hips thrusting hard and fast.

The mere thought of Sam and leather drove Eileen wild with want, another long moan falling from her parted lips. She wanted to know more, to know if Sam preferred to wield or wear his weather. But the thought to ask fled as fast as it came. Sam’s roaming hands slipped beneath her skirts and grasped her attention as they searched. The bite of his fingernails stung her hip as he grabbed her with one hand, and the other returned to her sex to rub hard and fast circles on her clit. Within too few minutes, Eileen felt the familiar rush of her arousal as it raced to its end, desperately seeking release. Each thrust of Sam’s hips, his thick cock stroking her cunt, inched her closer to that climax.

When the bite of his nails faded, Eileen opened her eyes to find Sam wearing lust's mask, his delirious smile crooked on his lips. His hand slipped to the small of her back, pulled her tight into his embrace, and she clamored for leverage across his broad shoulders. Ropes of corded muscle rolled beneath her hands as she clung to him, his solid mass an anchor to reality, to truth.

“Eileen, talk to me…” Sam breathed. “Tell me how you feel.”

“It's… I can hardly think. God, you feel so good inside me,” Eileen moaned as she looked in the mirror. “You even look good inside me.”

His eyes followed her, and Sam moaned in kind. “I do, don't I?” he said as he slowed and withdrew in a long, slow stroke. “Oh, Sister Eileen, look at your pussy on my cock. Look at how you take me in, hug me, envelope me. So hot and wet.” A smooth, agonizingly slow roll of his hips slipped his length inside her, inch by inch, as he continued to rub her clit, and they moaned together. “You should be ashamed of yourself, betraying your vows.”

“I am, Father Sam. Please,” Eileen begged as Sam picked up speed once more. “Forgive me, I'll do anything for absolution, anything you want.”

Sam growled as his lips pressed to hers for a hungry kiss, then trailed to her ear. Smothered by his massive frame, Eileen could hardly breathe, but she didn't care, for Sam spoke. “Come with me, Sister Eileen. Come on my cock as I fill you with my seed, I'm so close.”

“Yes!” she cried, her long moan punctuated by his thrusting hips. “Fuck me, Sam, come for me, I want to feel you come inside me.”

Between her thighs, that familiar sensation of tightly bound warmth unraveled as hard and heavy flexes of Sam's cock pulsed, filling her with his cum. His hips stuttered as his breath caught in his throat, and his wide hazel eyes locked with hers as she burst at the seams, her orgasm coursing though her entire body in a torrent of euphoria. As she road that rush of pleasure, Sam collapsed into her, his eyes squeezed shut and a whimper fell from his parted lips. There they breathed a moment—maybe more, Eileen couldn't be sure—until Sam righted himself. Long locks of his brown hair matted to his forehead and cheeks as sweat rolled down his neck. His priest’s collar had soaked through, and his shirt clung to his chest. When he righted a piece of her own hair, Sam laughed. “I guess we're not going anywhere looking like this.”

“Not if we don't want to offend the clergy,” Eileen amended as she looked him in the eye. “I'd suggest taking all these sweaty clothes off but I'm afraid we might not make it out of the motel then.”

Swift as a cat, Sam grasped her by the ass and lifted her. Eileen's indignant squawk turned into a curious laugh as Sam carried her to the bathroom. “We should at least get cleaned up,” he mused.

“By cleaned up you mean…”

As he set her on her feet, Sam answered her with a kiss, long and so soft, Eileen thought she might melt. When he parted from her, he glanced at the tiny shower stall behind her, then returned his gaze to hers. He remained silent, only his deviant smile giving him away. “Well? Am I not forgiven, Father Sam?”

His smile spread into the most wicked grin as he spoke.

“You may be absolved of your sins in the eyes of the Lord, Sister Eileen, but I'm not through with you yet.”

Tags: @atc74 @hannahindie @bevans87 @meganwinchester1999 @plaided-ani-on-hiatus @oneshoeshort @jonogueira@andkatiethings@elfinmox@wonderfulworldofwinchester@princessofthefandomrealm @just-another-busyfangirl @jmekitchens@81mysteriouslyme @dolphincliffs @seenashwrite

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stusbunker · 6 years ago

Text

Lay Me Down

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam and Dean Winchester, unnamed female character/ reader, Castiel, briefly Jack

A/N: Show level violence and gore. Lots of gunshots, attempted suicide(bad guy). Angst. Character death. I decided to try this for @supernatural-jackles #Weekly Writing Challenge. Prompts will be in bold. I have about fifty other things I should be writing and of course this came out instead. Case is rushed, but action demanded it. xoxo Stu

Word Count: ~3388

Song Inspired: All the Pretty Girls by Kaleo

“What?” Sam recoiled at her smug display.

“She totally wanted to take a bite of you, man,” she warned, leaning back to watch the cop retreat behind her desk.

Dean sneaked up on them at just the right moment. “What are we looking at?”

“The cop making goo-goo eyes at your brother.”

“Not the time, Sammy. We have a team ganking those poor saps, so we need our A game.”

Sam stammered, “I wasn’t-”

“Later, Romeo.” She pulled him out of the precinct by linking their arms, patting on his large hand as to comfort him of his loss. The Impala waited for them at the curb outside and in less than ten minutes they found their next stop, the only store in town that carried ammo. Whoever they were hunting seemed to like their magic with a side of gunshot wounds, that’s why no one else had put two and two together. Until Sam got the autopsy reports emailed to him, anonymously.

C.O.D. may have been G.S.W. to the chest, but whatever potions they had added to the bullets left the people purple husks of themselves. Five victims over twelve months in a town with little other major crime. The public were passed high alert and into panic mode. The locals practically threw a party for the fake Federal Agents that morning, and not just the chipper traffic cop. Everyone wanted answers.

^*^

After narrowing down the suspect pool, Dean called Cas in. He didn’t want anyone to be left without back up and with what seemed to be two witches at work, neither were to be underestimated.

“What I don’t get is why shoot them, then poison them,” Dean groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Tell me about it, is it just to confuse the M.E.?”

“Not a very innocuous way to destroy evidence,” Sam added, closing the folder in his lap.

“That can’t be it. Whatever magic this is, it isn’t a poison. Because that would be cleaner than shooting someone. The potion must be for something else,” Dean continued.

“It’s a soul siphoning serum,” Castiel had been squinting at the photographs from the morgue.

“Say that five times fast,” Dean said under his breath, she couldn’t help but laugh as he goaded her.

“So whoever is doing this is sucking out the victims’ souls?” Sam cleared his throat, giving his brother and their friend a teacher’s scowl.

“It’s like a conduit, instead of the soul being released by the witch or more likely warlock, the serum allows the power of the deceased’s soul to be absorbed by the spell’s caster,” Castiel grabbed a pen and started writing down some runes.

Meanwhile she got Sam’s attention, “how much do you guys know about warlocks?”

“Uh, some, I think Cuthbert Sinclair probably was the closest we’ve dealt with,” Sam frowned as his focus turned back to his laptop.

“Not that douche, so what, we’ve got people’s souls in jars or is it an instant recharge button. Boom, the bastards get some more pep in their step?” Dean waited for Cas to finish his scribbling.

“It’s a lot more than pep, Dean. If we are going in, we need to set up a trap. As warlocks tap into demonic energy, these should dampen their powers, but at least one of them will still have elevated abilities.”

“Still got those witch killing bullets, boys?” She sat up straight, determination masking the fear in her eyes.

“Never leave the Bunker without them,” Sam smirked.

“Sam and I will work on, enhancing, the ammunition for a warlock,” Cas suggested. “You two work out exactly who they are and how we can draw them out.”

^*^

“You know teasing Sam about girls is about the fastest way to get him to retreat, right?” Dean asked her once they were comfortably down the road.

“Dean, stop, okay? It’s not like that, with either of you,” she looked him dead in the eye as he cocked his head and considered her rebuttal.

“You jumped on that pretty fast,” licking his lips like the smooth bastard he was. “But I was talking in general, you know. Girls and Sam are a touchy subject.”

“After Eileen?”

“Um, yeah, but there were others and each one ended wrong. But don’t tell him I told you that.”

“Won’t, plus it’s not like you have a list of epic romances that ended mutually. None of us do, that’s not hunter style, not really,” she called him out and summed it up, like she always did. Speaking hard truths and kicking ass. Ignoring and denying herself, because there were more important things. Dean nodded, squinting into the afternoon sunshine. She wondered if he owned a pair of sunglasses or if he just liked straining his eyes. Dumb ass.

Dean pulled into the circular drive of the looming old house, though it was immaculately cared for, it still wore its years at the seams. She led the charge to the ornate front door, hoping the well-respected Mason wasn’t an unholy murderer all the same. Dean scowled as the door remained unanswered, though two vehicles were visible in the car port. As they peeked in different windows, their suspicions were verified when a rumble erupted from inside the house.

They drew their weapons and as Dean squared himself to kick in the door, it burst open. A golden blast of light sent him and the door on top of him back ten feet. Dean rolled, hunching against the cruel landing on the front lawn.

“Freeze, Federal Agents,” she tried to keep charade, at least for the neighbors who may be home during the day.

“Sorry, honey, but you’re coming with me,” the man’s unnaturally breathy voice answered. And before she could reply or Dean could focus enough to aim, they disappeared.

“Fuck!” Dean roared.

^*^

Cas and Sam took a cab and met Dean outside the house as the locals swarmed the premises after being called in for a disturbance. Dean was talking to the lead detective about what happened, who insisted he get checked out after losing consciousness.

“Dean, we can’t do a thorough search with all of these people aggravating the contents of the house,” Cas worried.

“Yeah, well, better than letting them search it alone and end up a toad or worse,” Dean snipped, giving Cas his sad half smile.

“We’ll get her back, Dean.”

“Oh, you bet your ass we will.” He wouldn’t look his brother in the eye.

Two hours passed where nothing exploded or remotely magically was found on any level of the house. Dean’s agitation grew by the minute.

“Okay, I, uh, we all need something to do. So let’s get back to the motel and regroup, find the partner, maybe, or –”

“Sounds like a plan, food on the way?”

It was the damn coroner the whole time. Which they only discovered after reviewing the autopsy reports that Sam had been sent versus the official ones, which were lousy with muted details and outright omissions. They waited for night fall and made their way back to the morgue.

^*^

It was a trap, she was bait and she was pissed. Mouth breather one and clammy hands doctor were slowly trying to take over the town. Power hungry loners together at last. Luckily, she knew the guys would be prepared for anything, but it didn’t make the worry stop churning in her gut. Instead of focusing on the negative, she used her time to figure out what made each man tick.

Obviously, Mister pillar-of-the-community was the dominant personality while the M.E. was the minion. She tried not to let her biases determine who had just sucked down a soul, but it seemed like her kidnapper wasn’t the type to share such power. He certainly wasn’t the type to stick around and babysit her. He left her in the back office with his sidekick going on an hour and a half. Before she could properly sweet talk the pasty coroner, her rescue team arrived.

They sent in Castiel, in scrubs, she caught his reflection in the window from the hallway, which she figured was because he hadn’t been on the case during initial interviews. But it was a small town and any new face caused justifiable distrust. While Cas waited for whatever paperwork or samples he had been sent to claim, she worked on freeing herself.

*^*

With the second can of spray paint emptied along the surrounding corridor, Sam signaled Dean to move on. Everything seemed to move in cornered urgency once the lights went out. When the emergency spots came on at the exits, Dean spotted him approaching, tendrils of magic crawling from his eyes, a deep amber pendant pulsing at his throat as he threw everything he had at the hunters. Both men were pinned to the wall, backs rattling the blinds on the opposite side of the windows where Cas was trying to buy them time.

“What was that?!”

“I’m not sure, perhaps you should check?” Cas tried, he really did, but he still wasn’t very convincing. The coroner froze for two beats as he waited for Castiel to move, panic won out and he dove back into the office to ensure their bait was still on the hook. The door slammed in Cas’s face, handle burning hot with warding. Cas’s grace blazed through him as he tried to break the enchantment stopping him. The sound of choking forced him to turn around and see what the Winchesters were facing in the hall.

^*^

She stumbled out the back, trying to breach the heavy emergency door as quietly as possible. The cement steps continued out into the base of a massive retaining wall and another set of stairs. She threw herself forward hoping to find the Impala and any of its weapons to circle back. She heard the door burst open behind her as she reached the final stair, but she didn’t look back. She ran with everything she had to reach the corner of the building and the hope of suitable cover but the shot that echoed in the cool night air was faster.

^*^

Castiel stared at the warlock pinning Sam and Dean in place in confusion, the warding should be dampening his abilities. Castiel reached out with his grace and broke the man’s concentration, pulling him out of his trance.

“He’s channeling powers, besides the souls,” Castiel spoke through the strain.

“Somebody is a quick study, now, uh, what are we, hmmm?” The man’s eyes sparkled as he measured Castiel. “Devon! Devon let’s get this one first. He’s going to be just, divine.”

“He doesn’t have a soul you can suck on, Sparky,” Dean barked, clamping a firm hand on the distracted warlock’s shoulder, as soon as he made contact Dean flew back once more.

“Yes, I know that, Dude, but his Grace is extractable as well, isn’t it?”

“Where is she?” Sam changed the subject, standing beside Castiel. “You’d knew we’d come for her, what did you do with her?”

“Devon has your little pet, quite the talons on that one,” he hummed before gasping, finally a waiver in his resolve. Which is all it took for Dean to try for the amulet at his throat once more. Sam flanked him, grabbing his left hand and locking it into iron shackles. In a split second a shot rang out and the three men fell in a huddle as Cas’s hold broke. Dean wrenched the thick cables of cord from his neck, the magic radiating from the cursed stone. Sam worked to secure the other wrist.

“I think… I think I’ve been shot,” Cas groaned as he slummed against the far wall, along the office door frame.

“Cas?!” Dean was there in four strides, panic filled him as he checked the wound, the bullet still inside him. “Sam!”

Sam kicked away from the nullified warlock. “On it,” he replied as he chased down the infamous sidekick Devon, gun drawn and menacing.

^*^

The cement hit every part of her, a mass of uncontrollable weight fell hard against the wet stone. She should have been uncomfortable, but the magic of the bullet seemed to muffle the pain into a bubble of heat centered just above her bottom ribs. The spell spread quickly, like spilled water on a tabletop, spreading until it had no more volume to spare. She willed herself to roll, to push on, but the magic dulled every resistance. The sky was hard to make out against the fluorescent security lights, but she convinced herself there were stars beyond the false beacons. That there was something worth wishing on.

^*^

“Come on Cas, heal damnit!” Dean growled.

“I am, Dean.” Cas sighed in exasperation, digging the bullet from his vessel before continuing to flood the body with healing light. “The magic was strong, but it wasn’t meant for angels. It will just be a bit longer. Go find Sam and the partner.”

“We still gotta–”

“I’ll find her, in a sec.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Dean.”

Dean patted his shoulder before checking his gun. As Dean strode passed the prone man, he contemplated putting a bullet straight between the guys’ eyes, but let the urge pass as he raced after his brother.

Cas stood slowly, eyes burning the now terrified man across the hall. He spotted the pendant on the floor where Dean had dropped it and just before he crushed it beneath his heel, Castiel muttered a chilling, “good riddance.”

^*^

There were only a few rooms left where Devon could have gone, but Sam took his time, clearing each office and storage room with the diligence that was ingrained in his very being. He felt Dean behind him, but spun all the same, as the brothers locked eyes they moved to the last room. The chill in the air greeting them as they stepped to either side of the Autopsy Room. The wall of refrigerated beds their only option.

“This guy is whacked,” Dean muttered, starting at the top row and working down.

“Ya think?”

“Uh, Cas is getting her, by the way, but we should get back quick, he’s still weak,” Dean froze in front of the final door, counting down with his fingers.

3-2-1

Sam’s finger was itching on the trigger before they realized it wasn’t Devon, but another victim. A lab tech that Sam recognized from another case, he couldn’t remember her name, but she must have sent him the original reports. Their hearts sank as they left her there on the metal tray. Dean sealed the door once more and they backtracked.

^*^

Cas staggered through the office, finding her restraints empty. He followed her only possible course, quickly ending up outside. The smell of blood and the slowing of a heartbeat pulled the healing angel to the edge of the building.

“Oh no,” Cas fell to his knees, hand sliding down her face to her pulse. “Where?”

“He got me in the back, can you believe it?” She groaned as Castiel carefully slid her on to her side.

“You’re going to be fine.”

“When are we ever fine, Cas?”

^*^

Devon was back in the first hallway, devastated tears pooling down his face as he paced, the damaged necklace clutched in his fist with his gun in the other.

“What happened,” Sam whispered.

“I don’t know, Cas must have snuffed him,” Dean shrugged and aimed. “Devon, come on man, it’s over.”

“You! You did this!” Devon pointed his gun at Dean’s face, his arm visibly trembling with grief.

“No, man, look, I left him where he was, I swear,” Dean held up his hands, belting his weapon with a single glance at Sam, whose was still at the ready.

They were at a standstill, when suddenly Devon countered, “I will make this right.”

“Devon don’t do anything stupid,” Sam barked.

“Loyalty isn’t stupid, even you dude-bros have to know that,” Devon-the-coroner spat.

“What are you talking about?” Dean took a step forward, only to throw his hands back up when Devon squared his shoulders and straightened his gun arm.

“My soul will give him enough power to heal himself,” Devon sniffed and turned the barrel to his temple.

“He’s gone, man. Don’t do this, your life isn’t worth this,” Dean begged.

“Good luck, Matthew,” Devon closed his eyes against the shouts of the hunters, but before he could pull the trigger, Sam did.

Dean spun, incredulous at his brother’s move. “I couldn’t risk it working, Dean,” Sam swallowed, not pleased with making the tough choice.

^*^

She could feel the cool touch of his Grace as he tried to heal her. It was a simple comfort beneath her now unbearable reality. They had her back, even when she couldn’t get back to help them. She watched Cas’s brow furrow as he worked, eyes closed. He always had kind eyes, even when he was furious. It would be a good last face to see. Something more tangible to make her wishes on.

“I just need you to do this one thing for me,” she struggled against the blood filling her lung. “I need you to burn my journal. They, they don’t need to find that. It would only make it, worse.” She swallowed, “D’you hear me?”

Cas leaned forward, struggling to knit her wounds closed, but the more he tried, the harder the magic seeped into her system and pushed back. “You can burn it yourself,” his deep voice clipped.

“Cas? It’s okay, just let me go ‘ith my Reaper. My books have all been swapped out now,” she said simply, with little worry in her voice. But the telltale tears mirrored themselves in the angel’s ancient eyes. He nodded his understanding and watched her go where he was no longer welcome. Though the serum chased her soul, the effects fizzled out as Sam left no spell-caster standing for it to return to. Her soul was safe.

^*^

Dean reached them first, sliding down to their level to lend a hand. The moments of frantically patting at her body only echoed the quiet stillness that was Castiel. Dean’s large palm found her cheek, his eyes burned as he looked into the open lifeless eyes of his friend. He called to her, begged her, berated Cas, but nothing could undo what was done. He rocked her into his lap, holding her to his chest as the weight of her body seemed to increase with every passing agony.

She still smelled the same, sure there was blood and dark magic swirling from her too, but that was just any other hunt. This was just another hunt. He didn’t realize he had lost his grip until Sam pulled him to standing. It took Sam five tries before Dean heard him. Sam gestured to Cas, who held her body in his arms, as they walked back to the Impala. Dean sat in the back with them as only Sam could drive at that point.

Sam didn’t sleep, driving all night only to find Jack to help with the pyre. Cas dragged Dean away so he could wrap the body without him falling apart again. When Dean fell asleep it was with gunsmoke and rust in his nose. He couldn’t dream and found no rest. Sam searched for her, naturally, she was wrapped and waiting on her bed, her hands crossed over her chest beneath the mock-ghost white sheet. It wasn’t how they usually did it, but he didn’t say anything. In truth, Sam was grateful he wouldn’t have to dwell on what the magic had done to her.

His exhales were ragged as he spoke to her, little things about how she always stole his shampoo or sang worse than Dean. Words of gratitude and affirmation that she wouldn’t have accepted were she alive. After more tears and pauses than he would have liked, Sam gave his farewell. Trusting Billie’s minions had taken her to paradise; she deserved the best a hunter could get. Hell, she deserved better.

When he kissed her forehead, Dean’s voice stilled him. “We ready?”

“Never ready for this one,” Sam croaked, but nodded to his brother all the same. He took her shoulders while Dean hooked her knees beneath his elbow. Castiel and Jack followed them out into the woods where they laid her down on the bed of brush and logs in silence.

^*^

@madlu45 @dontshootmespence @mrswhozeewhatsis @mogaruke @because-imma-lady-assface

@seenashwrite How’d I do on the no Y/N part?

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mittensmorgul · 5 years ago

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15.01 Back And To The Future rewatch notes

Note to anyone reading: I’ve already written a mishmosh of other posts addressing stuff in this episode, so this post is not a comprehensive list of every important or interesting thing in 15.01. This post is “things I haven’t otherwise talked about elsewhere yet” or “things I’ve been meaning to talk about in more detail but haven’t yet,” or “things I’d otherwise be compelled to write into the transcript doc in the other tab and really really shouldn’t.” Because that’s actually the purpose of this particular rewatch-- writing up the transcript. Which is happening in the other tab. :P

(i’m gonna go post the transcript now, so it should be up as soon as I get all the html un-screw-ified... >.>)

That said, let’s gooooo!

well, under a cut because long-ish >.>

I already talked about the song choice, and the fact it was the opening montage music in 9.10 (rip Lamp-- yes, this song has forever been the imaginary background music to Lamp/Other Lamp, sorry, the brain wants what the brain wants). It also reminded me of 11.04, the Night Moves scene, combined with Dean’s joke about how Piper brushed Sam off without giving him her number, and Dean replied “We got tonight, who needs tomorrow,” where Sam asks Dean if everything is a Bob Seger song to him. Because, heh, here have another Bob Seger song summing up the end of the road here.

But I love how the lyrics MATCH UP with the action in this opening scene.

♪It's been a long time since you smiled♪ [zombies circle around TFW cutting off their chance of escape] Chuck: Story's over. Welcome to the End. [Cas kneels over Jack's body] ♪Seems like oh, so long ago♪ --NOW-- [in the graveyard, the scene picks up where 14.20 left off, and the music continues uninterrupted from the Road So Far montage. TFW battle a zombie horde, as we zoom out from Jack's burned out eyes and the fighting rages on] ♪And now the stage has all been set♪ ♪And the nights are growing cold♪ ♪Soon the winter will be here♪ ♪And there's no one warm to hold♪ ♪Now the lines have all been read♪ Cas: Sam! Dean! ♪And you knew them all by heart♪ ♪Now you move toward the door♪ [Cas picks up Jack's body and runs, leading the way out of the zombie fight. Sam and Dean follow, dodging monsters and graves] ♪Here it comes the hardest part♪ ♪Try the handle of the road♪ Sam [spotting potential refuge]: Dean, this way! ♪Feeling different, feeling strange♪ ♪This can never be arranged♪ ♪From the famous final scene♪

Then there’s the DRAMATIC ZOOM in on Dean that literally cuts Cas out of the shot as Dean reacts to his line that “Well, I wouldn’t starve.” Like that was the moment Dean began to literally shut Cas out, because he feels that line was Cas shutting HIM out. So instead of trying to deal with any of that because ZOMBIES TRYING TO BREAK DOWN THE DOOR is a more immediate concern, he turns his back and goes on his little tirade about Chuck. Like he was reliving that moment he got to smash Chuck’s guitar and wishes he could do it again.

And then we meet Belphegor, who already has a rather hopping tag on my blog, so I’m gonna… just move on a bit from here…

I am in pain over this callback to Bloody Mary, with the teenage girls who seem far younger than the girls from the original. These girls are far more innocent. They didn’t call up bloody Mary, they have no guilt of having killed anyone on their souls. Bloody Mary just… showed up. And tortured and killed them.

But this parallel was twisted. In the original, the girls’ father apparently gave their mother an overdose of sleeping pills that led to her death. in the new version, one of the girls’ parents just got divorced and was compensating by going on a shopping spree and buying everything her daughter wanted. These girls were laughing, loving what that divorce brought them.

It’s sort of a more cheerful parallel to Dean and Cas’s fracturing relationship over their dead son’s body…Well, more cheerful until Bloody Mary kills them, anyway.

Sam learns there’s no sudden worldwide zombie outbreak, so the incident seems localized to that one graveyard.

And at this point I started a THIRD thing I’m working on at the same time, because two was apparently not enough. I think I’m gonna copy/paste that stuff here, instead. It’s about the Three Ghosts of this episode-- each parallelled directly to one of TFW. Bloody Mary was one, and in this episode she was Cas’s parallel. It’s her victims Cas will find-- two little girls who never deserved the fate Bloody Mary dished out to them. But Mary Worthington had been murdered herself, and her killer never caught. So she originally killed people who kept secrets about others’ deaths as a form of revenge against her own killer. In trying to protect others, she became a killer herself. And heck if that’s not painfully Cas… or something he feels he’s painfully failed to do, to protect the Winchesters from having to do horrific things. And he DID sell his own potential future happiness in exchange for Jack’s life, only to have just watched Jack die horrifically. His sacrifice, again, has amounted to nothing.

In this episode, she follows Cas from the house, through mirrors, and reappears in a dark pond to grab at the mother and child Sam had already saved from John Wayne Gacy (yeah, I’ll type that one up next, but let’s finish this first...). So there’s a being now watching Cas from the depths of a dark pool, waiting to reach up and grab him when he finally feels safe. Sounds like… the Shadow.

So on to Sam vs Clowns. Sam’s direct parallel is the ghost of John Wayne Gacy, in clown costume, that he formerly burned in 14.13. In an episode where he was about to come face to face with his own past in the form of John Winchester suddenly appearing in the bunker, torn from the past. It’s an episode where Sam and Dean find peace with who they’ve become, and lay a ghost of their past to rest.

With the Equalizer wound humming along, affecting Sam in mysterious ways we’ve only begun to glimpse, and Sam’s brief flash of himself with black eyes apparently hurting Dean, it’s hard NOT to think of the parallel that Clowns have always held for Sam-- Lucifer. Heck I’ve written about that recently, or at least it feels like I have… but at the end of this episode, Sam stops and looks Gacy in the face and tells him to shut up. Which is something Sam has ALSO said to Lucifer (or at least a hallucination of Lucifer). The infamous “HE SAID SHUT UP TO ME!” of Hallucifer in 7.15, which ended Sam’s ability to shut out the hallucination by squeezing the cut on his hand.

Now on to Dean’s parallel ghost: Constance Welch, aka the Woman in White from 1.01. A woman who was the first ghost of the entire series, who Sam literally drove into her house to “take her home,” where she had to face what she’d done to her own children. She’d killed her own children in a moment of grief after her husband cheated on her, and then killed herself.

Dean had been moments from killing Jack in 14.20, in a moment of grief, but didn’t. Yet he’s now having some serious issues with Cas throughout this episode and by the end, they’re “frosty.”

Belphegor, with Dean, looks for a human heart to use in their spell, and stumble across one of Constance’s victims. Belphegor rips out his heart and holds it up to Dean, when Constance appears. She recognizes Dean from 1.01, who made her go home, and attacks him. Then tries to attack Belphegor, and actually injures his hand.

But this is the ghost Dean is paired with. He drives her off, and Belphegor does the spell to contain the ghosts by putting the heart in a pile of salt.

Okay, now where was I in these notes… right… Town, where Sam and Dean play FBI, trying to stop a benzene pipeline leak. And wow, what a weird story, right? Sheriff was confused, but helped evacuate the townspeople to safety.

I think it’s interesting that this was intended to be another stopgap measure, like putting Jack in the box in 14.19, because they know this spell won’t hold forever, and they know they have no other reasonable way to fix the problem. But they can try to buy some time, and hope they’ll come up with a better solution before things go sideways.

Dean asks Cas to help Belphegor do the spell thing, but Cas refuses, and goes to work with Sam instead, leaving Dean to deal with the demon possessing Jack. Which leads to all sorts of interesting conversations between them… I think I’ve written and/or reblogged enough posts on the queer subtext… er… text even… of these scenes to just point out here that it exists, and is heavy.

Meanwhile Cas and Sam go house to house looking for people they need to evacuate, and encounter the above ^^ ghosts.

So Dean’s stuck with the demon fanboy who admires what Dean did in Hell, and Dean seems pretty uncomfortable about this, but it’s not like he has a choice, you know? Who else is gonna do this? Cas couldn’t, Sam’s already on the other gig, and that leaves Dean. So… instead of denying what he’d done, he brushed it off as “a long time ago.” And then actually asked what the situation in Hell was like. The answer Belphegor gave is… interesting.

Belphegor: You ever seen an ant hill when it's, like, set on fire? [lol no, according to Dean’s wtf face] Okay, well, there we were, minding our own business, you know, flaying people for eternity, like you do, right? And then every door in Hell just sprang open all at once. You know? Souls got out. Sky cracked. And, uh, boom, ta-da, you know?

So all the gates are open, including the Cage, but Michael’s apparently still just sitting there. Which is worrisome. But my question is, if all the gates are open, yet the entire planet isn’t flooding with demons and souls, ONLY through the direct portal into that graveyard, how can what Belphegor said be true? At least, theoretically… But that’s a question for another day, when we have more canon to understand.

So… Dean has to face Constance, who flings him into a dumpster. Which makes me lol think about 1.01 and Dean flinging himself off a bridge to get away from her, and ended up covered in mud.

Cas’s “It’s one ghost,” *two more ghosts appear* “It’s three.” reminded me of “I got this,” “I don’t got this.”

Sam accidentally shooting Cas because the ghost got between the two of them horrifyingly reminds me of 12.17 and Eileen accidentally shooting Mr. Top of his Class at Kendricks when Dagon deliberately came between the two of them. At least Cas is salt-proof, you know?

Belphegor calling out Bad Ghost! kinda reminds me of Dean’s “Here ghostie ghostie ghostie” from 4.13. But REALLY. A demon, who tortures souls for fun and profit, yet can’t do anything more than weakly scold a ghost like a misbehaving puppy? INTERESTING. Because it’s Dean that has to whack her with a metal rod, while Belphegor ends up with deep gouges in his hand that are clearly causing him pain.

Dean hurls the name Casper at Constance before he whacks her, which is also a callback to 1.01. It was Sam who called him out for shooting at her with regular bullets: “What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?” Lol that he remembered that.

Sam pulled a “I’ll hold them off, I’ll hold them all off” hopeless move when he sent Cas away, like Cas once did in 4.22 when he sent Dean away to stop Sam… but Sam actually got out in one piece, even though his gun was empty.

Sam picks up the little girl and runs as fast as he can and only looks back once he’s outside and safe. Like “take your brother outside as fast as you can and don’t look back”

I already wrote about the callback of Dean distracting Sam from tending to his wound with the cut-off joke, reminding me of the scene in 4.09 of Sam doing something similar while fixing Dean’s dislocated shoulder.

And then we have the realization that they’ve never really had free will, just limited choices because of the circumstances Chuck put them in. Sam is unrealistically optimistic that it means that Chuck’s actually gone, now. But that’s the hope he’s holding on to in order to get through this horror.

So this… is what they’re setting up as the guidemap to the series finale. Specifically, Sam and Dean must finally earn their way free. The ghostpocalypse is just step one, and not the true end. There’s still Heaven and Hell to deal with (though Heaven is mostly empty of angels and Hell seems to be actively crumbling now). And Michael, whenever he gets around to walking out of the cage. I’m sure that will go great! Unhinged archangel on the loose! But those are all minor distractions compared with Chuck, because he hasn’t really gone anywhere.

And we still don’t know what Actual Jack, Billie, and the Shadow are up to in the Empty, in their secret meeting in a realm that Chuck has no power. And what about Amara? How does she feel about this now that she’s grown fond of creation? I think there’s a much bigger game afoot than just a ghostpocalypse.

Meanwhile, Sam’s quote here is still setting up the final scene of the series: When we win this, God's gone. Hm. There's no one to screw with us. There's no more maze. It's just us. And we're free.

That’s the goal.

#spn s15 spoilers #spn 15.01

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