#she’s fascinated by trick or treat. what the hell is that it sounds awesome

[justkillingthyme]

Happy Emmy Wemmysday!

[flutteringphalanges]

                                     Caught in a Riptide

Summary: After the infamous Count Dracula is discovered and taken into custody by the Jonathan Harker Foundation, former nun and now guardian to her young niece, Zoe, Agatha Van Helsing is tasked with keeping tabs on the vampire after a mishap leads to his release into modern day society. Can Agatha remain levelheaded, or will fate turn her onto a new path?

Pairing: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rated: M

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: You guys are awesome! Thanks for the support as usual! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! I hope you enjoy! -Jen

                                             Chapter Six

It's an interesting topic of discussion on what someone's final thoughts are. Do they see their very life flash before their eyes? Memories of the past. What should have and could've been. Or is it instead something simple? Trying to remember if they left the garage light on. Who'll take care of the children. And yet, of all the things to pop into Agatha Van Helsing's mind-not Zoe, not work-no, it was about a bloody pair of socks she'd never received after ordering them nearly a month ago. Stupid company. Absolutely idiotic. In the end, it was a mere pair of stockings. Oh what a brilliant, brilliant mind.

"GET OUT!"

Agatha's eyes opened to see Dracula hovering over her, his sharp teeth bared like that of a deranged animal. He stared down at her hard, his gaze burning with hunger and unquenchable thirst. Yet he made no move to attack her. Instead, he held his ground, chest rising and falling as if his broken, lifeless lungs still needed air.

"What-" She stumbled over her words, tasting the salty smear of blood on her tongue.

"I said GET OUT," he growled. "NOW!"

She didn't need to be told again. Agatha raced to her feet and hurried towards the door. Dracula didn't follow, but she could hear his ragged breathing in the distance. When she finally made her way back to her car, the former nun slid to the ground completely winded. Placing a hand over her heart, she tried to regain control of her pulse. What the hell had that been about? The Count could've easily had killed her and yet spared her life instead? The former nun swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Christ.

Wiping at her mouth with her sleeve, she forced herself up. As she shakily pulled her car keys out, her eyes glanced up towards the vampire's window. If she hadn't been so out of it, Agatha could've sworn she saw the outline of the man watching her from above. But just in the split second that she saw him, he disappeared. A trick of the imagination. Had to be it. Inhaling sharply through her nose, the former nun drove away from the flat and to the short distance where her own home was located.

"Agatha, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon."

Mrs. Avery looked up from the couch as The Price is Right played in the background on the television. The other woman forced a smile onto her face as she placed her purse onto the table. Of course she knew nothing of what happened. Or who Count Dracula even was.

"My meeting ended sooner than I expected." She said walking over. "Thank you for watching Zoe again. Was she good for you?"

"Slept like a little angel," the older woman smiled. "Like I said, she's never a problem, dear. Always a joy to watch." Clearly Zoe's little mischievous moments went unseen around Mrs. Avery. "As I always say, please don't hesitate to call me. I enjoy the company ever since my own grew up and flew the coop."

"Well, I owe you greatly," Agatha smiled in response. "Perhaps we can do dinner sometime. My treat. It'd be nice to catch up, after all."

"What a splendid idea!" Mrs. Avery exclaimed. "Oh, I'd sure look forward to that. Next time I see you, we'll schedule something, yes?" Agatha made a move to help her stand up but the elderly woman waved her away. "I'm fine, dear, still got some strength in my old bones. Calcium," she grinned. "Makes you strong. Lets you live forever." If only she knew what could really assure that. "Take care, Agatha."

"Have a good night, Mrs. Avery." Agatha replied, making sure to lock the deadbolt the moment the woman left.

Agatha tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her tongue as she walked towards her bedroom feeling both physically and mentally exhausted. Stripping down, she tossed her clothes aside and sauntered over to the bathroom. A shower would do her some good. Maybe take her mind off things. As the nearly scalding spray rained down upon her, she arched her back and tilted her chin so the water ran down her face. The former nun closed her eyes and allowed the steam's welcoming embrace to take her.

"Would you willingly dance with the Devil, Agatha Van Helsing?"

Her eyes shot open as that single phrase replayed in her mind. Fumbling with the shower knob, she quickly turned it off and stumbled out. Thank God she had the intelligence to leave a bath mat on the ground, otherwise she might've slipped. After roughly drying herself, she took the damp towel and wiped it across the mirror's condensation. Her eyes met those of her reflection's. Tired. Stressed. Drained. Getting to sleep wouldn't be an easy task tonight. That she was sure of. But Bloxham's reaction to what happened...That's where the true uncertainty was.

"Pull yourself together, Agatha." She muttered at herself. "You're a Van Helsing, not an idiot."

But even then, her so called "pep-talk'' didn't offer much of a boost. Sighing, she let the towel fall to the floor. She'd clean everything up later. Dragging herself over to her bed, she flopped down onto the mattress and shared up at the ceiling. It was going to be a long night.

                                                        XXX

"So, what I'm hearing is that Count Dracula attacked you last night."

Bloxham spoke as if she were explaining a point, not a question. Agatha sat at the opposite end on the scientist's desk nursing her cup of coffee. The dark circles under her eyes probably didn't help the situation. Commander Irving stood in the corner quietly, watching as the woman flipped through the vampire's case file.

"I said he refrained from it." The former nun muttered quietly. "He could've easily done so but he didn't."

"Why?" The other woman's tone was edging on sharp. Inquisitive. And it made Agatha feel all that more uncomfortable. "You were bleeding, yes? What reason did he have for not killing and feeding off of you?"

"I don't know." Agatha sighed, running a hand through her hair. It was tangled, she hadn't done the best job of brushing it today. Not when her mind had been elsewhere. "If I knew, I'd tell you."

The Harker Foundation director seemed to consider this, her lips pursed in thought. Glancing once behind her at Irving, she let out a long sigh. Closing the folder on her desk, she folded her hands over it. Agatha watched her closely, trying to read the woman's face.

"Well, we have no justifiable cause to bring him in. And from what you told me, it sounds like your intended meeting didn't go as planned." Bloxham began to reach towards a phone that sat on the edge of her desk. "I'll be sure to have a word with Frank Renfield about it. Things will need to be rescheduled and due to the event, I'm more than certain he'll agree to setting something up."

"What if I refuse to go back?" Agatha inquired, straightening up in her chair. "I may be a Van Helsing, but that doesn't mean I'm used as some chess piece in your game, Dr. Bloxham." A wrong statement to support her point. "What then?"

"We both know you need this job, Agatha." Bloxham responded, her hand hesitating over the phone. "You have a child to take care of. You're welcome to quit. I'm not holding you hostage. But you hold valuable information and…" she paused. "You'd be doing us both a good service by staying. Making both our lives easier." It wasn't an act of kindness. No. A threat. "Do the bare minimum of what is required and all things will go well."

If the convent allowed her to bring Zoe in, Agatha would've taken a one way ticket back to Holland with her niece in tow. She was fascinated by Count Dracula, sure. But being coerced into being his "handler" had never been an expectation she'd seen coming. Bloxham had a lot of dirt on her. And clearly, had no qualms of letting it out there. Or doing something much, much worse. As much as she hated to, she had to comply. Oh how the bitterness in her heart towards the other woman grew.

"Fine," she agreed coldly. "I'll do as you ask. But once I get everything you want. I want out. Completely. And I want to be compensated and guaranteed that my niece will be safe and we'll be taken care of." Her fingers dug into her palms. "I will completely and utterly immerse myself into Count Dracula's life if that means I can be done with you."

Bloxham merely smiled and grabbed the phone. "I think that can be arranged," her tone was pleasant. "You're dismissed, Agatha. I'll let you know shortly what the plan is. Thank you for being so on board with this."

"The pleasure is all mine." But Bloxham seemed to ignore the malice in Agatha's voice that dripped like venom. "I'll be looking forward to it."

                                                   XXX

Agatha hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep on the couch until a bowl of cereal was poked under her nose. Wearily, she opened her eyes to see Zoe standing there with the dish held between her hands. Exhaling through her nose, she gave a tired smile and sat up.

"Is that for me?"

Zoe nodded and pushed the bowl into her aunt's chest. "I spilled a little bit of milk while making it," she added sheepishly. "But I cleaned it up! Promise!" The front of the girl's shirt was damp so Agatha had a gut feeling a little bit was more along the lines of a lot. "You've been sleeping for forever."

"Thanks, muffin." Agatha said, taking in a spoonful. "Sorry, I'm just tired. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night and work was long today." Her eyes flickered over to the digital clock on the coffee table. Late evening. Damn, she had been asleep for awhile. "Zoe, it's so late. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I dunno." The little girl shrugged, plopping beside her aunt. "I was going to when Mr. Dracula called-"

Agatha stopped her right there. "What do you mean Dracula called?" If she wasn't alert before, she surely was wide awake now. "Zoe, what did Count Dracula say to you?!"

"Not much," Zoe admitted. "He asked to talk to you but I told him you were sleeping. He said that was fine and not to wake you up. Just to tell you he was thinking about you and would be in touch shortly." She seemed to stumble on the words a little, trying to remember exactly what the vampire had said. "Should I have asked him to come over for cereal?"

"No, you most certainly shouldn't!" Agatha accidentally snapped, causing Zoe to wince in surprise. "...I'm sorry, Zoe. I'm just tense. Just...thank you for letting me know." And not inviting the bastard over. "I'll give him a call back when I can."

"When's he coming over again?" Her niece asked, cocking her head slightly to the side. "We never did get to watch a movie. He's funny. I like him. Aunt Aggie…" Zoe began to kick her legs back and forth. "Do you think I'd make a good vampire?"

The nightmare. Triggered. Agatha stared at her niece with her mouth slightly agape. She hadn't meant anything by it. It was an innocent question, after all. But still, the mere idea of it sent tornado sirens screaming in the former nun's mind.

"I don't want to talk about that." And she ended the discussion before Zoe could protest. "C'mon, I think you've had enough television today. I want to look over your homework and give you something proper to eat before you go to bed."

Turning off the television, she made her way to the kitchen and put the bowl in the sink. It was still full of soggy cereal, but that could be dealt with later. As Agatha went to pull a can of soup from the cupboard, she heard her phone go off. Christ, how she hoped it was Jack. Or even a spam call. Telemarketer perhaps? She waited, letting it go to voicemail. Attempting to turn out the sound of Zoe rifling through her backpack in the background, she reluctantly picked up her cell and unlocked the screen. Bloxham. Gritting her teeth, Agatha listened to the message.

"Agatha, after much deliberation, we've managed to schedule a session with you and Count Dracula in an hour. I apologize if this is an inconvenience, but his lawyer said this was the soonest we could get you in to see him. I hope all goes well this time around. Looking forward to hearing from you."

It took every ounce of Agatha's energy and patience not to beam her phone into the wall. One night. Not one night could she have to herself since Dracula came into the picture. Looking over at Zoe, who was still preoccupied by her messy backpack, the former nun knew she hadn't much of a choice. Sucking in a deep breath, she dialed the number of one of the only people she could currently stand.

"Agatha?"

"Jack," the woman responded with a sigh of relief. "I have a huge favor to ask of you. Are you busy tonight?"

"If by busy you mean binge watching unsolved mystery shows and eating crisps…" When he didn't hear her chuckle at his joke, the doctor sobered up. "No, I'm not. Is everything okay?"

"Would you mind watching Zoe for me?" Agatha inquired, pacing around the room. "I just received the loveliest voicemail from Bloxham. I'm off to visit you-know-who tonight." And her eyes flickered over to her niece as she spoke. "I don't want to bother her normal sitter again. She's done enough already. Would you mind? I know it's asking a lot."

"It's not asking a lot at all." Jack assured her. "I love Zoe. We get along quite nicely."

"Thank you, Jack. You don't even know how much I appreciate this. I owe you." Agatha smiled, running a hand through her hair. "I'll have her already fed and ready for bed. You won't have to do much. If she gives you any trouble, just remind her that we're supposed to go to the zoo this weekend. She'll behave after that."

"I'll be right over," he promised. "Don't worry about a thing."

A phrase, Agatha was beginning to realize, was easier said than done.

                                                  XXX

It was hard to find the willpower to leave her car after yesterday's troubling incident. Agatha stared up towards Dracula's flat from the safety of her car. In her back pocket was a cheap, plastic cross she had purchased last minute at a nearby gas station. Despite having it, she didn't feel any less comfortable. Mustering up the courage to finally do so, the former nun got out and began to make her way towards the vampire's home.

She wasn't quite sure what to expect when she reached the top. The meeting had been set up by Bloxham and Renfield so it wasn't quietly Dracula's own doing. But as she reached forward to knock, the door swung open. There, with a smile spread wide across his face, was the Count himself.

"Ah, Agatha." He grinned, dark eyes fixed on hers. "You're just in time for dinner!"

When he took a step back, Agatha's gaze immediately met the perplexed look of a strange man. Bile began to rise in her throat as visions of horror began to bombard her brain.

What the Hell had she just walked in on?!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The cat tamer; Freddie Mercury x reader

*Author’s note*

And here we are my darlings, the second fate you might have chosen from the intro. And a little BTS for this story, I originally was going to make Freddie the ringleader but the more I thought about lion tamers and cat performances, the more I kept going back to Freddie.  Okay so as stated before NO HAPPY ENDING HERE.

Warnings: Voodoo magic, some violence, a bit graphic (not extremely but some graphic scenes), a bit of swearing. 

Intro to series

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@geek-and-proud

@mexifangorl

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

_________________________________________________

You’ve always had a fascination with the big cats. Lions, leopards, tigers, cougars, you name it.  So it was only fitting to see if you could have a personal one on one talk with the cat tamer who somehow managed to wrestle a full grown male lion and not get ripped a part.  Or force a tiger to be mounted and then jump through a fiery hoop.

So heading backstage, you could hear the roars of the tigers just shake you to your very core.  But you can’t help yourself.  You pull back the flap and soon enough hundreds upon hundreds of ages filled with every bog cat in the show were all pacing back and forth roaring and growling at each other.

Then finally you saw him.  He stood by the cage of a lion and lioness.  The lion was sitting down looking like he was taking a rest while the lioness was up along the cage and the cat tamer was stroking her while softly praising her.

“Ohh that’s my darling girl. You were phenomenal out there darling, yes you were. Now don’t be cross you were the true star of the show. Yes you were.” Wow, if you didn’t know any better it’s like he could tell exactly what she was saying from her huffing and low growls.

“Excuse me?” you ask him.  He turns to look at you and says.

“Well, well a secret groupie I figured? Come for Roger, he’s over by the pool.” He said.

“Uhh no actually I uhh—I’ve come to…..meet you.”

“Me? Really?” he asked amazed. You nod confirming your statement from earlier. “Wow, usually when people pass by here, it’s usually to find old blondie. Bastard gets all the pretty girls to himself. But lucky for me I’ve got my lovely darlings right here for company.”

“I can tell you share a strong bond with each of them. It was—unbelievable out there. I mean I’ve seen big cat acts before but none like what you’ve done.”

“Thank you darling, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He said with a grin. “Oh silly me where are my manners?” he draped the whip along his hip and said, “The name’s Freddie, Freddie Mercury.”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (l/n).” you introduce yourself as you hold out your hand for him to shake. He does take it but by surprise, he leans in and kisses both of your cheeks.

“Rule one about me (y/n) dear, I’m overly affectionate like my children here. Hugs and kisses, handshakes are too formal form me.”

“Ohh I see. Mr.—”

“Oh no, no, no. Freddie please, dear. Mr. Mercury makes me sound so old.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no it’s alright.”

“Anyways I—wanted to ask. Just how long have you been doing this?”

“The circus or the cat taming?”

“Well both if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, but please let’s sit down. I’ve been on my feet all day and these shoes are fucking killing me!” You couldn’t help but smile.  He seemed charming and funny and you won’t deny that he was pretty handsome.

That exotic physical look that made him look like he was from India or at least a part of it.  That long raven black hair that reached just before his shoulders, those enticing eyes, and the overbite was very noticeable but it suited him.

“Ahhh that’s better.” He said finally sitting down along one of the crates. “God I keep demanding to Reid to get me new shoes but the bugger never listens.” He whined to himself. “Oh sorry darling got a bit sidetracked there, okay so for your questions; well I’ve been with the circus pretty much since it started. In fact I kinda organized the whole thing.”

“Really?”

“Yes, in fact I was the ringleader before Reid came along and wanted to manage us. After he signed up, I focused back onto my true hobby.” It was then he gestured towards all the big cats.

“And how long have you been the cat tamer.”

“Hmm let’s see Johnny boy came to us at around 69 so—about six years ago.”

“Six years?!” You exclaimed.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Oh no, no, no it’s just—usually cat tamers I’ve seen said that they had over 10 to 20 years of experience.”

“Those old farts. That’s because they don’t get the cats like I do. They treat them like show ponies at a rodeo.  Forcing them to do tricks they won’t do, over disciplining them like they’re dogs. It sickens me to my core of what they call training, I can it manipulation.”

“Wow I—I never thought of it like that.”

“Oh now I don’t mean to make you sad (y/n) darling.”

“No, no you didn’t. It’s just. My whole life I’ve always loved big cats. They’re so powerful and fierce, but when it comes to putting them in animals acts such as these, I just thought tamers would respect them. But it seems like I was wrong.”

“Well you’re not entirely wrong dear. I respect them.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and gently squeezed it. “I treat my darlings with respect and awe. I understand them, and they understand me.”

“They’re lucky to have you Freddie.”

“If anything I’m lucky to have them. Would—you like to meet them?”

“I’d love to.” He clapped his hands once in rejoice before standing up and taking your hands in his.

“Then let’s go!” and then off you went back towards the cat cages.

As you walk along the cages Freddie introduces you to each of his cats one by one.

“The two leopard twins over there are Tom and Jerry.”

“Let me guess, you named them after the cartoon characters?”

“The very same darling. The male cougar there is Goliath, and the female is Tiffany. The black panther there is Romeo.”

“Tall, dark and handsome isn’t he?”

“Indeed. Exactly why I named him that. The tigers over there, that one’s Oscar, the female is Lilly. Spoilt thing that girl is. Been my running star out of all my tigers. And the other female is Tiffany. You see the scar above her eye?”

“Yeah.”

“Well she and Lilly got into a squabble one year to see who would be top tigress. And well—they’ve been best friends ever since.”

“Awww.”

“But here are the prized stars out of my entire show. My lions. Been with me since the beginning of my cat taming career.”

“You know I think out of all the big cats I’ve always admired lions the most.”

“I know. So regal and powerful. But softies at heart. The dark maned one is Jim, and the light maned one is Roger. Named after the bastard I mentioned before. Wouldn’t stop till I named one of my cats after him, he specifically requested I’d have a lion named after him. And this beautiful girl is the love of my life, Mary. She���s been my most loyal cat in all my shows.”

“Oh she’s beautiful.” You awed at her. He whistled for her and she turned around and came right up to the cage.

“Hello my love.” Freddie praised.  Mary let out a few bellows as she rubbed herself against the cage.  “You can pet her if you’d like.”

“Oh I don’t know Freddie.” You say wearily.

“Oh come on. Live your dream. She is a sweet girl. And I’ll be right here in case anything goes wrong. Be thankful you’re not meeting Trixie the cougar. She’s a tricky minx that one.” You look at him anxiously. “It’s alright darling. Take a few deep breaths with me.”

He takes in a couple deep breaths showing you what to do before you finally decide to join him. After relaxing a bit, he takes your hand and presses it towards the cage.

“Now, palm out. She’s gonna give you a sniff but that’s normal. That’s her way of saying ‘can I trust you?’” You both look and watch as Mary comes up to your hand and gives it a sniff.

Feeling her whiskers and cold nose pressing against your palm made you both fearful but yet made you want to laugh cause of the whiskers tickling against your palm.

She then lets out a warm huff before rubbing her head against your palm and rubbing it along the cage, wanting to be petted.

“See? I told you she was an angel.”

“She is.” You say. Wow if you had gon back in time and told your five year old self that you’d be petting a real live lion, she would’ve thought you were crazy and laughed at you.

“She likes you.”

“Well is it bad to say that I like her too?”

“Not at all. Want to see an up close and private performance?”

“Can you do that?”

“I’m the previous ringleader my dear, I can do whatever the fuck I want.” You softly giggle and say.

“What the hell it’d be awesome to see a private showing.”

“Then follow me to the ring my dear!” He once again takes your hand and guides you back towards the ring.  

He has you sit down in the front row before racing back up to the center of the ring.

“Thank you! Thank you and good evening everybody!” he proclaims loud for all to hear.  You couldn’t help but clap along and cheer. “Ahh it looks spooky in here tonight my darlings. In fact I think I’ve some of you beautiful people here before.” He says pointing to you. “Okay my darlings, tonight I would like to feature an act that has never been attempted by any other cat tamer in the world. But first, how would you all like to meet my beauties?”

You let out a loud yes and Freddie chuckles before stating.

“Then…..release the cats from Hell!” Soon enough the cage entrance from before opened once again and soon all the cats came running out. I clapped and whistled as loud as I could and watched as Freddie began to arrange his cats.

Now knowing that he was the first ringleader, he definitely showed the movements of being probably the greatest showman on Earth. The way he guided his babies across the ring, had them leap over podiums, or had them standing on their hind legs. I applauded and Freddie said with a bow.

“Thank you! Thank you dears. Now then; I would like to ask a lovely member of the audience to come down to the ring for this next act.” He looked around, almost like he was imagining a ring filled with people.  So I slowly raised my hand and Freddie pointed at me. “You, the lovely darling with the lovely jumper and cute purse.”

You shake your head at him playfully and stood up and walked down the couple of steps and jogged up towards the center of the ring.

“What’s your name my darling?” You look at him and whisper.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes now c’mon use your imagination darling.” Sighing you gave in and said.

“(Y/n).”

“Lovely name (y/n). Now then my lovely assistant (y/n) shall become part of an act that has never once been performed on any circus ring. My lovely darling I ask you to just stand here for one second,” he guiding you over towards a chair that he had pulled up.

Taking out the whip, he whipped it down to the ground and called out for Jim, Roger and Oscar to come forward.  The two male lions and tiger came forward and stood in a single file line of each other.

“Come right over here my darling,” he held out his hand for you to take.  You place your hand in his as he guides you over towards the three big cats. “Ladies and gentlemen; my lovely darlings and dears! My lovely assistant shall now lay across these three magnificent creatures!” Wait what now?! He takes you over towards Roger who was on at the bottom and he came in front of you.

“Freddie I—I don’t know if this is okay.”

“Just trust me darling, I’ve got you.” He picked you up bridal style and waited for your respond.

“You promise?” You asked nervously.

“I swear it dear.” You softly groan but knew you couldn’t persuade him out of this.  So you nodded giving him your permission.  

It was then he had your legs draped across Roger’s back.  You feel your lower back touching the top of Roger’s head, his mane lightly tickling the bare skin that was exposed from your jumper from being slightly pushed up.  Then you feel your upper half go across Oscar, your head stopping right up against his.

It was then Freddie came up and took both of your wrists and slowly raised them up so that they ended up going onto Jim’s back hips.  

He smiles down at you and nodds assuringly that you were doing great.  

After about a minute, he slowly released your wrists and backed away allowing you to be completely balanced on top of three huge cats.

He applauded before he quickly came up and picked you up bridal style spinning me around which caused Jim, Roger and Oscar to break the single file line and boast out roaring.

“Oh darling you were fantastic!”

“God did I really just do that?!”

“Yes you did, you were amazing! You sure you haven’t done show business before?”

“Never.”

“Oh I surely don’t believe that!” he boasted before kissing your cheek again.

For the rest of the night the two of you just talked with each other till you looked down at your watch and saw that it was almost midnight.

“Ahh man I gotta get home. I promised my roommate that I’d be home by at least 11.”

“Must you go already? We were having such fun.” He whined with a pout.

“I’m sorry Freddie. Maybe if you come around again we could hang out, or maybe you can call me from the road?”

“That might be a possibility.” You smiled and gave him your number and with a final two cheek kiss goodbye, you grabbed your bag and headed on out.

After finally arriving back home and your roommate throwing a fit for being late, you explain to them why you were late after having such a good time with the cat tamer.  After telling her he was cute, she brushed it off and she wanted every detail from that ‘date’.

You flip her off and tell her your too tired to explain but you would tell her in the morning.  So after doing your nightly routines and getting dressed into your pajamas, you finally lay down on your bed and fall fast asleep pulling your sleep mask over your eyes.

You feel this sudden cold chill brush up against you.  Shivering you begin to wake up, thinking you probably lost your covers you tried to reach out and grab them, only to find you can’t move your arms.

You become slightly more alert that your arms are in fact paralyzed but it’s when you try to move your legs that you find out you’re completely immobile.  And with your sleep mask still on, you think you’re in some sort of sleep paralysis.

Panicking you grunt as you try to struggle and that’s when you hear a very familiar voice say.

“Now, now my lovely darling. No need to panic.”

“F-Freddie?” you asked in shock.

“The one and only darling? Who else were you expecting Elton John?”

“Freddie what’s going on? Where am I? Is this a nightmare?”

“See that’s always the question on everyone’s mind. Is this the real life? Or is this just fantasy?”

“Freddie enough games tell me where am I?” he took your sleep mask off and you see that you’re currently in some sort of dark cave with torches as the only source of light.  You also saw a statue that sorta resembled a cat-human hybrid of some kind.

Echoing through the cave you can hear the roars of Freddie’s cats.  He walked up and you can hear the clanking of chains and soon coming from above, moonlight comes down and you see some sort of sun dial or probably in this case a moon dial.

Freddie who is kneeling in front of you strokes a strand of hair away from your face.

“You look frightened darling. Why?”

“Why do you think? How the hell did I get here?”

“I found you sleepwalking darling. For whatever reason you ended up coming along the very archway that leads back to the circus. Taking pity on you in this cold night, I brought you here to this shelter because we’ve already packed everything away.”

“Bull. Shit! I’ve never had a case of sleep walking in my life. You’re lying to me Freddie!” He sighed and said in an ominously dark tone.

“Guess you’re smarter than the previous tributes. But that’s what’ll make you valuable.”

“What do you mean?” you struggle through your invisible binds.  God why couldn’t you move? There was no rope, zip ties, not even chains, all you could feel was just cold air.

It was then he holds up a wax doll that looks exactly like you down to the last detail.  But it wasn’t until you notice that there are about four strands of loose hair stuck on top of your wax doll’s head.  You then realize what’s going on.

“A voodoo doll?”

“So you do know your dark magic. Got the magic wax from a fell coworker here. Works every time. You do have some soft hair my darling. However whatever shampoo you use, makes you lose it very easily.” He stands up and presents the doll to the statue which held a burning torch before walking right up to the moon dial.

“The Harvest moon will soon reach the midnight point on this moon dial. And then the ceremony can begin.”

“What ceremony?!” I demanded.

“You remember when I said that I was the oldest act of the circus?” he said turning back towards me.  Hesitantly you nod and that’s when Freddie continues, “Well I meant it. Both figuratively…..and literally. In fact over 200 years I’ve been doing this.” He chuckled almost sinisterly.

And that’s when something horrifying happened.

Freddie scrunched up his face as it slowly began to morph into a cat-like face.  His ears grew to a point, canine teeth began to grow and his once friendly, warm eyes were now cold and piercing gold just like a cat’s eye, and his black nails began to grow into claws.

He let out a cougar like roar as he bared his teeth at you.  You let out a horrified gasp as you try to phase through the wall but it was useless.

“Wha-wha-what are you going to do to me?” you ask terrified, your voice trembling in fear.

“It’s simple darling, every harvest moon I need to pass on my DNA to willing tributes who come to see me. To keep the show going on.” He says as he walks back over to you and stands over you.

Oh god was he—he wasn’t planning on….. “Now don’t go thinking me a barbarian darling. I don’t rape women, or men. But by using my curse with either a scratch, a bite, or using my own kind of magic, they become well—a part of me I think the saying goes.”

“Wait so—your cats. All those names…..they were once people?”

“Very clever darling. You’ll make a fine performer in Santa Monica.” He says as he cups your chin.  You could feel his claw-like nail softly stroke under your chin.

Your lip trembles as you plead and pray to not feel him scratch you deeply.  You had to figure a way out of here.

“There’s no escape darling. So long as your wax doll is bound you’re not going anywhere.” The moon’s rays seem to grow brighter and Freddie let’s out a roar before standing back up and turning his back to me.

Portions of his shirt rips apart as his tanned arms now become brown fur, his nails sharpened till they became longer and harder like bear claws.  His face becomes more cat-like and his teeth sharpen themselves even more.  His feet became were-cat paws and a tail grows out of him.

He turned back towards you and throws back his head as he roars.  Seeing him now become this full fledge monster you let out the loudest, most horrifying scream you had in you hoping that someone would hear you.  As he comes towards you, you lean away and began rolling away as he pounced to where you just sat.

He hisses and gets down on his hands in a true cat-like crouch growling and twitching his tail.  His fangs baring out and with the overbite it made them even more terrifying to look at him.

You see your voodoo doll and quickly roll towards the podium but you feel Freddie pounce on you.  He forces you onto your back pining you down by your shoulders. But you’re not going down without a fight.

As best you could, you double kick him in the gut sending him away from you.  You’re just about to reach the podium where your wax doll was at so you crawl towards it before spinning around and tried to kick your doll down towards you.

But Freddie gets back up and immediately pounces on you again, the two of you rolling around till he has you pinned again, this time on your stomach.  You try to fight and struggle to get free of him but it’s futile.

“Now, now darling. I thought you said you always wanted to be a lion? Now you get to experience it.” His voice once warm and filled with friendliness was now low and murderous like a demon, but somehow it still held that soft quality.

“No, no Freddie please. Please I beg you please have mercy!” you plead hoping that he wouldn’t go through with it.  He pins your shoulders down to ensure you can’t struggle.

You then feel this numbness overcome you. Your will to fight is suddenly snatched away as you just let out this long, dragging moan as your strength is taken from you.  Allowing Freddie to sink his teeth right into your neck.

*3rd Person POV*

Santa Monica, it was like any other circus performance.  Freddie stood before the ring in his uniform and he proclaimed.

“Now then my lovely darlings. I would like to present to you the newest member of my little pride. She’s one of the most cleverest lionesses I’ve ever had to train, I present to you…..(y/n)!”

A cage soon rose up from the ground and pacing around in it was a large lioness.  She was lean but had strong muscles and she roared in her cage as the bars slowly lowered.

“Isn’t she beautiful my darlings? My newest addition and I can’t wait to show you all what she can do.” Freddie smirked as he looked at the lioness that came running right towards Freddie, almost with the intent to attack.

But Freddie ducked at the last second as apart of the act because Jim once did the same thing his first performance.  The crowd were all in shock but applauded thinking it was all apart of the act.  Freddie took out his whip and stared (y/n) down.

“Let’s show them what you got my darling. The show must go on after all.” As Freddie spoke that, she only let out a fearsome roar that would send shivers down your spine as she kept baring her four canine teeth.

[talesmaniac89]

Changed Traditions

Summary: Dean with daughter fic - Dean deals with the first halloween alone, taking care of the reader and his daughter.

Triggers: Past reader death (no details), angst, worry

Word Count: 2396

Y/N = Your name ¦ Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour

---

The little girl was humming along to the end screen and jumping up and down in her seat as the screen once more already faded to black. Though she didn’t really see it, no, she was already scrambling to turn in her seat to turn those big green puppy dog eyes up at the two hunters in the room, who were reading what to the child looked like boring books over by the big table.

 “Daddy! Unca Sam! Is over again!” She called out in a sing song voice, bouncing up and down in the big chair that nearly completely hid her from view to get the Winchester brothers’ attention. “Moooore!”

 “Ok princess, daddy’s coming,” Dean Winchester said with a smile and a laugh before pushing his chair away from the mahogany table in the bunker to go help his little girl. Her bright eyes that looked just like her dad’s shining as she let out a happy squeal and quickly twisted and flopped back down to watch the now dark screen. “What do you wanna watch next?”

 “Same one!” She chirped, repeating words Dean had heard several times the last few days. The little girl’s (Y/H/C) hair whipped around her face as she laughed at the groan that came from both Winchester brothers at her demand. Ever since they went to the shop and she saw the Halloween decorations she had demanded watching the same movie over and over. And nothing they tempted her with made her change her mind.

Honestly, Dean couldn’t understand her fascination with the one hour long Disney special. He remembered Sammy being afraid of the show when he was her age, yet the little girl loved it. Maybe it was because you loved it too. Or… You had. The thought wiped the smile off of Dean’s features as he bent down and restarted the remastered version of the old classic Disney’s Halloween Treat dvd. His little girl however, didn’t seem to notice her father’s change in mood as she started singing along to the opening song, mumbling the words she still weren’t sure about and shouting the ones she were sure of.

“Call... ONE ‘n all tonight!... Is Disney’s Hallo’een treeeeet!” Her little happy voice soothing Dean’s heart as he turned and smiled at his little girl, ruffling her hair as he sank to his knees by her chair. Chuckling to himself as she jumped up and down in her PJs and sang happily along to the old fashioned tune. She was clearly her mother’s daughter with her love of the season.

 “Aren’t you bored of this yet?” Dean asked the candy apple of his eye as she finally stopped singing to laugh along with her father as if they were sharing some secret joke.

 “No! Is Hallo’een!” She said, smile bright and free of worries as she made her exclamation. To the little child the month of October was magic. To her the monsters only stayed in cartoonish form on the TV, sheltered from the life the two brothers had been living since Dean was her age. So unlike the two of them, she only saw the season of monsters as an excuse to eat enough sweets to make a dentist faint, and to play around and decorate together with her mother.

 At least that was how it had been until… This year you were no longer there to watch the movie with your daughter. The only two girls in Dean’s life had always watched that movie, every day for a week up to Halloween. Decorating the bunker and making spooky treats together to enjoy as you watched the movie and sang along.

 This year had almost passed by without it. Without you in the bunker… Halloween, your favourite holiday, had almost passed by unnoticed. Dean’s little daughter hadn’t even known about it until they’d gone shopping together. Her big eyes turning even bigger as she’d pulled at Dean’s sleeve and pointed out the cheerful pumpkins in the shop display as she reminded her dad of the season that almost had silently gone by without any spooky celebration or happy songs.

 You were always the one to decorate and go trick or treating. You would help your little angel draw up bats and ghosts to hang around the bunker. Always humming songs from your favourite seasonal movie together and filling the now deafeningly quiet bunker with song and laughter.

 “Yeah cupcake. It is Halloween,” Dean chuckled, burying his own melancholy as to not worry the small child. Opting instead to stroke her cheek as the little princess graced hi with a warm, true smile. “It’s your favourite isn’t it?” He added as he stood up watching her nod vigorously, ready to return to the research he had been working on with Sam when his little girl’s voice turned his attention back to her.

 “Daddy?” Her tiny voice sounded hesitant as worried, making Dean automatically tense in shared worry. Did she have a tummy ache? Maybe she was coming down with a fever? It had been getting cold.

 “Yes sweetheart?” Dean asked as he turned back towards his world and watched her carefully to see if he could identify what was wrong. But she looked perfectly healthy. He just couldn’t help worrying. Her and Sam, they were all he had left.

 “No... Trick or treat this year? Or cos’ume?” She looked slightly worried, and he could see the hints of a pout forming as her tiny forehead creased up. He had completely forgotten to get her a costume. You always used to take care of that… Damn it… Dean was trying so hard, but he kept forgetting the little things.

 “Of course sweetheart! Of course we can go trick or treating,” Dean kept his voice soft and reassuring as he rested a big hand on her small head, stroking her hair out of her eyes. He would have to see where he could get a costume… Halloween night was the next day.

 Most places would be sold out of the best ones and she had grown a lot in a year. There was no way she’d fit into the costume from the year before. Plus, poor Sammy probably wouldn’t be able to handle another year with a tiny clown running around. Though you had found hilarious. Yet before he could offer that they would go out the next day and find something, the small, sheltered Winchester princess spoke up again with a question Dean hadn’t been prepared for.

 “Will you make my cos’ume then daddy?” She asked, eyes bright and hopeful as she pushed herself up in the chair until her knees were up under her. You used to always create the costumes. Dean however was no master with the needle and thread. Still, he knew that making the costume together with mommy had been his little spoiled princess favourite part of Halloween. She would draw it out with crayons on paper and they would make it together. It wouldn’t be perfect. But she would love it, and you would…

 “Princess… Maybe we should buy one this time?” Dean said, clearing his throat to keep it from wavering as he put on a brave smile for the little girl. Of course she would expect a homemade costume. Hell, you’d made her costumes from the first Halloween when she was only a few months old. Sure, the seams might have been a bit crooked, but they’d looked awesome in Dean’s eyes. Dean doubted he could even make two pieces of cloth stick together.

 “Nooo daddy,” The pouty princess whined, throwing her best puppy dog eyes over at her dad and pretty much giving him no choice but to agree. The small child had, had him wrapped around her tiny little finger since the day she was born. Once those big green eyes looked up at him, he was pretty much powerless. “With ‘Unca Sam?” The littlest Winchester added, throwing the puppy dog look over at Sam who seemed just as lost as Dean.

 “Daddy will think of something princess… I can get your crayons after… But for now you’re missing your favourite,” Dean said, giving in and turning to shrug at his younger brother who looked slightly freaked out at the idea of acting like the fairy godmother to the little kid. But hell, if he was gonna make a costume he would need backup, and Sammy always had his back. And the happy little squeal that followed her words made it worth whatever mess the two Winchester brothers would have to go through to make her dreams come true

 “Thank you daddy!” She sing-songed before twisting back into her seat to be fully enraptured by the movie once more.

 ---  

 “What am I gonna do Sammy?” Dean asked his brother after finally tucking the tiny girl into bed. Falling back into the chair he’d left to help her brush her teeth he shut his eyes with a sigh, still holding the childish crayon drawing his little girl had given him of the witch costume she wanted. His hand shook as he tried to keep his voice low to not wake the small girl just down the hall. “(Y/N) was the one that was good at this… I just… I’m no good without her,”

 For a second only the light rustling of the paper in his hand filled the library as Dean locked his jaw in an effort of keeping the pain inside. You had been his better half. You always knew the right thing to do or say when it came to your child.

 “I don’t know if I can… It’s just so hard to go on like this, without her,” Dean said, breaking the silence as his voice finally cracked over the words and he forced his eyes open before he sank too far down into the darkness to pull himself back out. The childish smiling face of the witch drawn on the paper the first thing greeting him as he felt unshed tears burn his eyes.

 “Hey, Dean… Don’t say that. There’s a little girl down the hall that needs her daddy,” Sam said, his expression serious and slightly hurt, though his tone stayed soft and low. Sam was right… Dean wasn’t the only one who had lost you. Your daughter, and Sam, your best friend, was hurting too. He had to protect the two of them. And he could do that. He could act like a shield, but…

 “I know… But I can’t sew, or even remember to decorate for Halloween. I haven’t been baking cookies with her or…” Dean sighed letting his words die out as the list grew of the things you used to do with your little hyper girl. Dean hadn’t been ignoring her, no he had been spending most of his time with her. Playing and teaching her how to read. But, he couldn’t be both you and himself.

 “You’ve been doing great Dean. And I’m here to help. Come on… You know what (Y/N) would say if she heard you,” Sam said, lightly tugging the drawing out of Dean’s hands before he wrinkled the page between his shaking hands. A small sad smile on Sammy’s lips telling Dean that both Winchester brothers were thinking the exact same thing.

 “She wouldn’t say nothing… She’d just kick my ass,” He supplied with a small broken laugh. He could almost see you, hands folded over your waist and one hip popped as you glared at him. Telling him to get his act together or “so help me God”… You used to be the one keeping him on the straight and narrow, making his days bright. Now it was the child you left behind that brightened his dark days.

 “Exactly,” “You can do this… We can do this,” Sam said, his hand patting the older Winchester’s shoulder before refocusing on the childish drawing of a witch. The determination in his voice making Dean believe that the two of them could handle it together. After all, they’d saved the world from ruin several times. Making a costume for a kid would be a walk in the park.

 “But… Where do we start?” Dean asked, looking from his younger brother who had helped him every step of the way since your death to the drawing Sam now held in his hands. Focusing all his attention on it he sighed. That clearly wouldn’t help. It wasn’t as if numbers and instructions would magically appear just because he looked at it hard enough.

 “I guess we need to uhm… Cut it into shapes?” Sam said, turning the drawing around in his big hands. “And then sew it together?” The younger Winchester’s words all sounded like uncertain questions however. The earlier bravado gone now that Dean had pulled himself out of his brief recess in the darkened parts of his broken heart.

“Have you ever sewn anything?” Dean sighed, at least he knew where your sewing kit was. But hell if he knew how to actually sew together a costume. He’d only done basic fixes when he was younger and something of Sammy’s needed a quick stitch to be good as new again.

“Other than cuts and wounds? Never…” Sam sighed his brow furrowed as he followed the lines of the tiniest member of the Men of Letter bunker’s drawing. Though just as his hand reached the hat, the bright light returned to the young hunter’s eyes and Dean swore he could actually see the light come on in a lightbulb above his head. “Hey… Maybe we can reuse something? Start with a big black t-shirt for the dress?” Sam asked grinning.

 Yeah… That could work. Damn, that was why Dean couldn’t help being proud of his baby brother. The kid was smart and could think outside of the box. And Dean had just the t-shirt they could use.

 “You’re a genius Sammy! I have a completely black t-shirt, and if we take something orange too and tear it up in strips…” Dean said replacing his brother’s hand on the drawing as he followed the lines whilst he spoke. And so the two hunters sat down to work through the night. Determined to make a little girl’s happy Halloween come true.

Even though their small family was slightly smaller than it had been just one year earlier.

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[percywinchester27]

Stroke of luck (Part-8)

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word count: 3800-ish

Warnings: Daddy!Dean, so much of it... trust me, it’s a warning. FLUFF!!

Series Summary: Dark highway, middle of the night, a bad boy driving an Impala, and a Damsel in distress. Too cliche? Think again.

A/N: This is the part that actually inspired the whole series around it. I am in love with it. I hope by the end, you are, too <3 Beta’d by the fabulous @sdavid09.

Feedback is really REALLY appreciated!

Stroke of luck Masterlist

A crowd had gathered right in the middle of it, making it impossible to move around. Dean honked loudly twice, but the crowd didn't budge.

"What the hell?" He muttered to himself before stepping out and making his way through the crowd. The scene that unfolded before his eyes as he walked to the front of the line was disheartening. A girl was standing in the middle of the circle, crying in her hands. All her books were strewn across the asphalt, while her bag was ripped to shreds. Two boys were standing on the other side laughing at her, while she sobbed. When she moved her hand to wipe her tears, Dean caught a glimpse of her face. It was Sam, and she had the most heartbreaking and lost expression her face.

Dean's POV:

For a few minutes Dean couldn't comprehend what was happening. Was she angry, was she hurt? Why was all her stuff scattered like that? Did she trip and fall down? Dean was suddenly worried whether she had hurt herself.

Then the silence broke as one of the boys- the one with light brown hair- let out a cackle of insensitive laughter. "Why you cryin' now? Like you didn't know!"

"Of course, she did!" The other one leered. He was lanky and had greasy, black hair. "She knows how weird she is. She knows she's the freak."

"You heard what she was sayin' right?" the first one prompted. "Purple light killed Aaron," he mimicked in a high pitched voice that did not resemble Sam’s quiet, melodious one at all. She just stood there, staring defiantly up at them.

"We all know what put that crap in her head," Greasy hair continued. "If she ever bothered to get her head out of those fat books, she'd see the world for what it really is.” He looked straight at her. “You might actually look good if you ditched those stupid t-shirts and put some make up on."

"Just learn a lil' from that mother of yours," leered the short one. "Sleepin' round like she does, you could’ve picked up a few tricks, nerd."

"Course her father disappeared!" The two of them burst into a bought of cruel laughter.

A sob ripped free of Sam's chest. She turned on her heel to run away, but in the next second, found her face pressed into a warm softly clothed chest. Dean saw her jerk back for a bit before her eyes met his. When they did, her watery emeralds into his fiery green, instead of pushing away, she threw her arms around his waist and clung to him, fisting her fingers into the back of his suit. She turned her face into him and broke down completely.

Dean felt as though his insides were melting the moment the girl buried her face in his chest. It was nothing like anything he'd ever felt before. The strongest urge to protect her, to hide her from the cruel, cruel world overcame him, and his hands instinctively enveloped around her. The aftermath of the feeling left him reeling. The anger he could understand, the protectiveness, too, but the possessive edge and the tenderness he felt towards her, both shocked and shook him.

"Hey, shhhh…" he softly whispered in her ear. "It's gonna be alright. It's gonna be okay."

Sam only hugged him tighter, clinging to him. Dean found himself comforting her despite the havoc in his own head. This girl didn't deserve to be treated like this. She was smart and sweet and loving. She shouldn't have to cry like that.

Dean lowered his head so only she could hear him. "Stay here, I'll be right back." Sam, however, shook her head, unwilling to let him go.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here, next to you. Let me go have a talk with them."

"No, don't," her breath hitched. "They'll say mean things about you, too."

"They can try." Dean leveled his gaze with the taller of the two, the greasy haired idiot. He seemed to be taken aback, but was still staring at Dean sullenly.

Dean could feel all eyes on the two of them and he was sure so could she, but Sam held on, hiding in his chest, from the judgment everyone seemed to be exuding. She was trusting him to protect her. That decided it for him.

Dean gently pried Sam's fingers off his coat, but didn't let go of her hand as he took a few strides forwards. Sam tried to hold him back, but Dean's grip was firm. She needed to see this.

He made his way towards the boys, both of them seemed to be older than eighteen. Either they were drop outs, or part of the community college that shared the same building. From the condition of her things and the way she seemed to massaging her shoulder, it wasn't hard to figure out what had happened. They'd either held her hard, or yanked the bag with enough force to hurt.

"Who are you Mister?" Greasy hair wheezed. He seemed to be the bigger bully of the two. "The new guy her mother is banging?"

Sam's grip on Dean's hand tightened painfully. He could feel her shaking besides him. She seemed to cringe a little, but Dean held on, refusing to let go.

He strode forward and in a swift motion tugged at the collar of the kid, pushing him into the adjacent wall, hard enough to sting, but not actually cause damage.

The boy let out a strangled cry as his head hit the surface.

"Doesn't matter who I am," Dean growled. "What matters is what I can do, you slimy son of a bitch. You touch her again, and I'll break your sorry face."

The guy whimpered pathetically against Dean's grip, clutching at his throat, trying to find a way out. Dean did not budge.

"Am I clear?" He snarled loudly, and the boy nodded pitifully.

"I would ask you to apologize to her, but you don't deserve to so much as look at her, forget about talking to her. Her mom's done a great job raising a kid like that. Your folks don't seem to have gotten it through that thick skull of yours. Now get lost."

Dean released his grip and the boy collapsed on the asphalt floor, coughing and gasping for air. The other kid had disappeared.

Dean turned to the by standing crowd. "Shows over, get out," he called, voice icier than usual. The kids didn't need to be told twice. Within a couple of minutes the parking lot was empty.

Sam was still clutching Dean's hand, quietly crying into the other one.

"Shhh… it's alright, C'mere," Dean said, gently pulling her back into his arms. "Those kids are dicks, don't listen to that bullshit. You're so much better than any of them. You get me?"

She didn't react, just burrowed deeper, and there was that feeling again. A warm ache in his chest that Dean couldn't put a name to. This felt too pure somehow, holding her this way. Dean couldn't help but remember when he was young and small Sam used to hug him on stormy nights when they were alone in motel rooms. For the life of him Dean couldn't figure out why he was suddenly so nostalgic. It hurt in an oh so sweet way, but Dean never wanted to be rid of this feeling.

He gently pushed her back and brought his hand up to cup her face. She seemed unwilling to look at him, like she was suddenly embarrassed. Dean held on, until she looked up, her beautiful eyes shy. "You get me, right? You're awesome. You should be proud of yourself."

At long last she nodded, and Dean smoothened the blonde locks away from her eyes. "That's good," he smiled at her encouragingly. "You wanna sit down for a bit and tell me what that was about?" She nodded once more.

"Alright," Dean said, guiding her to a bench nearby. "You sit here, I'll be back with your stuff."

She was quick to interrupt. "No… No… I'll get it."

"No, you won't," Dean stated firmly. "You sit. I'll go get it."

He made his way towards the torn bag and its strewn contents. Most of it was huge books- SATs, physics, Economics. They weren't course books, but much more advanced. Along with those there were couple novels- Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen. Those idiots must have yanked the bag hard and because of the full to brim contents, it must have split immediately. Dean looked back at Sam. She was rubbing her shoulders, eyeing him anxiously. He smiled reassuringly at her, as he collected all her stuff, even the markers, pens, and chocolate wrappers.

When Dean got to the bottom of the things, he found a worn out College flyer… For Stanford Law.

Really? Stanford Law? Dean thought to himself. That was a weird-ass coincidence.

After collecting all the books, Dean balanced them in one hand, and stooped to grab the torn bag. The fabric was full of all sorts of doodle- quotes from Southern movies, anime, manga, symbols… everything. It was eclectic and fascinating. Dean found himself turning it over to notice that the handles were made of pure silver. He smirked to himself as he remembered Sam pushing them against his skin that first night when he had picked her up. That kid was really smart and for some weird reason Dean felt proud about it. She had been raised right.

When he reached the bench, his shoe caught against a stone and the books tumbled out of his hands once more, cascading over the girl in front of him. She winced as the books hit her head and fell over her feet.

Dean was about to apologize, but a peal of laughter left her, as she giggled at his antics.

"You're such a butterfingers," she managed in between her laughs.

Dean found his heart melting at the sound of her laughter. It was precious. She bent down and retrieved her books, neatly stacking them on one side. She picked the Stanford flyer last and carefully placed it in between the thickest of books.

"So Law school, huh?" Dean asked, intrigued, as he took a seat next to her.

She wriggled her hands in her lap, not quite meeting his eyes, "Ummm yeah."

"That's awesome," Dean told her, his voice sounded happy even to him.

"You aren't going to tell me I'm too young or something?" 

"Nope!" He replied. "I know you're really smart. You can do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" She looked up through her lashes, shy again.

"Whatever you want," Dean repeated, simply. There was a conviction in his words because he truly believed in them.

"It's all I've ever wanted. I'm almost sixteen, but I've taken all the classes, even the advanced one, so I'm graduating this year. I'm giving my SATs in a couple of weeks and I really want to get into Stanford pre-law."

The fact that she was advanced didn't surprise Dean whatsoever. "Why Stanford?"

"When I was a kid, my mom told me it's where smart people go," she shrugged.

"Well, I ain't contesting with your mom."

They sat in silence for a while. Dean was lost in his own thoughts until he saw her rubbing at her shoulders again, and anger flashed through him. He willed himself to control his tone before asking. "You wanna tell me what that was about?” He gestured towards the spot where she'd stood crying.

Sam seemed to retreat back into her shell and the wriggling of fingers resumed. Just when Dean thought she was going to ask him to butt out, she spoke in a small voice. "Those idiots used to be high school last year. I think they were friends with Aaron or something. I don't know what their problem is, but they call me names all the time. They call me ugly and stuff…" her voice trailed off.

If Dean was angry before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. Anyone would have to be blind to call her ugly. She was perfect.

"Don't listen to them," Dean's voice was more insistent that he had intended it to be. "You're beautiful and smart. I meant it when I said they don't deserve to even look at you."

"Really?" her cheeks were tinged with pink as she looked up at him.

"Hell yeah! You're too good."

She looked down, blushing an even deeper shade of red now.

"It's not that though," she said after a while. "I don't care what they say about me. It doesn't matter. But they say awful stuff about my mom, and none of it is true."

"If none of it is true, then why does it bother you so much?" 

"Because it's on the opposite fudging end from reality, that's why!" She huffed.

"What do you mean?" Dean’s curiosity was at its peak. He had to admit that he was intrigued by her mother. She definitely knew her way around the territory, and judging from how she had raised her daughter, she seemed to be sensible and kind.

"I mean everyone judges her because she's so young. She had me when she was only 18, and she's really gorgeous. There's always a couple guys loitering outside the flower shop she owns, hoping to ask her out. She never heeds all the attention."

"All this talk seems to be a case of sour grapes then," Dean mused.

"It is. She's so nice, and she rarely even dates. Just because of how she looks, people say such horrible stuff about her," Sam said bitterly.

"Well then the people here are dicks," Dean stated. His ‘matter of fact’ tone made Sam giggle. Dean’s very bones softened. She was truly a lovely child. And the way she had described her mother, Dean could see where she got it from.

Dean didn't want to assume, yet, he couldn't help but wonder what happened to Sam’s father. A man would have to be a total jackass to leave a beautiful family like that.

"Don't worry about the jerks, kiddo. I'm sure your mom is happy enough to have you."

"She is," Sam smiled wistfully. "She's my best friend. I love her so much. She hasn't had it easy, you know. We used to be constantly moving till I was about seven years old, never stopping in a place for more than a couple of weeks, like someone was chasing us or something. She'd leave for a few of hours to get food and return bloody a lot of times. Mom never talks about those days even if I ask, but I can see the scars sometimes. It's only been about six or seven years since we've settled here. That’s why I want to become a lawyer. So I can make her proud."

"Where was your dad in all this?" The question just tumbled out his mouth. Dean regretted it the moment he said it out loud. It was personal, and definitely prying on his part. It looked like Sam's mom had been through hell. Gang maybe?

Sam, thankfully, seemed unperturbed by the question. "He died when I was a baby," she said, a distinct note of pride in her voice. "My mom says he was a hero and he died trying to save someone. She said he loved me." Her voice became melancholy by the end. "I never knew him."

"I'm sure he'd be proud of the young lady you've become," Dean told her. Sam smiled up at him.

"Yeah, my mom says so, too." A sudden light illuminated her eyes and she giggled excitedly. "You know what? You should meet her!"

"Who? Your mom?" 

"No, the Queen of England," she sassed. "Of course, I mean my mom! You two are so similar. Tell you what, you should totally go out on a date with her."

"Whoa, Kid!" Dean said, taken aback by her sudden enthusiasm. "I'm not the dating sort. I won't be in the town longer than this case." Even as he said it, Dean couldn't help but feel a little sad at the thought of not seeing Sam again.

"Oh, she isn't the dating type either," she gave him a naughty smile. Whatever that was supposed to mean. "Just go out once. How could it possibly harm? It'll be fun!"

Dean thought about it and decided it wasn't such a bad idea after all. He wasn't staying long and Sam's mom intrigued him anyway. He could meet her.

"Alright," Dean acquiesced, "but on one condition."

"What?" Her smile faltered a little.

Dean grinned. "That we’ll remain friends no matter how that turns out." He extended his calloused hand. "Friends?"

A huge grin spread across her face as she slid a delicate hand forward and shook Dean's firmly. "Friends!"

Dean noticed a silver anti-possession charm and witch repelling amulet dangling from her bracelet. Yes, meeting her mom would be interesting to say the least.

"It's a deal then!"

Sam's POV:

To say Sam was tired was a massive understatement. He was used to staying up late nights, working cases, or researching for them, but this one seemed to be somehow taking a toll on him. As much as he might refuse to accept it, Sam knew the reason. He knew it was the hope that pulling him down. No, it wasn't the hope, it was the effort of trying to keep it squished that was so exhausting. All night long he had dreamt of Y/N's face as she had looked at him with terror in her eyes on the night that Dean had died. Sam had been consumed by a homicidal rage, so frenzied by the need for revenge that he hadn't even cared for his long lost best friend. If only he could just find her once and tell her just how sorry he was, how desperately he wanted her back in his life… in both their lives.

At least, one thing had turned out to in their favor. Aaron used to visit that particular red-soiled make out spot after all, so now they knew where to begin their search.

Sam walked around the campus, trying to find his brother. Going through the filing had taken a while, so he did not expect Dean to be hanging around in the parking lot. Sam, however, didn't know where to start looking and the parking lot seemed as good a place as any.

He was still mulling over the case-files, trying his best to keep his mind off other stuff, when he rounded around the corner and the most unexpected scene met his eyes. Dean was sitting on the park bench next to a young girl who was facing away from Sam. She had thick, long blonde hair. From what he could see, Dean was holding her hand, and the two of them were laughing about something.

This was that girl, the one Dean couldn't stop talking about. The girl who was the reason for all of his brother's smiles lately. Sam increased the tempo of steps and soon he was close enough to catch his brother's attention. Dean grinned the moment he saw Sam, turning to the girl besides him.

"Sam," he told the girl, a goofy, proud smile splitting his face, "Meet Sam. He's my brother and nerd extraordinaire. You two will get along."

The girl turned around and Sam's breath caught in his throat. Those eyes, those bright green, brilliant eyes were the ones he could never not notice. He saw them every day of his life.

"You're kidding!" She turned back to face Dean. "Your name is Dean, and your brother's name is Sam? What the hell?"

"What's wrong with that?" Dean asked, and she checked herself, shrugging nonchalantly. Dean seemed to buy it, but to Sam, her expression seemed too perfect, as if she was putting an extra effort into keeping it in place.

"Hey, Dean, why don't you pick up the files from the office? I think I might have left a couple of them on the desk. Get the car while you're coming back."

"Sure thing." Dean winked at the girl once, before walking out of the lot on the other side.

"So?" Sam asked.

"So?" She replied in the same tone. He couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Your name's Violet Y/L/N, isn't it?"

"How do you know?" She immediately sounded wary.

"I read your name in the files," Sam said lightly, but his heart was hammering against his ribs. He didn't know what else to say. The girl was peeking up at him while trying to be furtive about it.

"You're tall," she said out of the blue, and then blushed instantly.

"I get that a lot," Sam said, taking a seat next to her. That's when he saw the stack of thick books. The Stanford flyer sticking out at one end didn’t miss Sam’s attention.

"Hey, if your name's Violet, why does your mother call you Sam?" He asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"How do you know it's my mother who came up with the name?" She narrowed her eyes.

Damn! The girl was too smart for her own good. "Uhhh… it’s a guess," He smiled weakly.

"Well, yeah," she continued, seemingly over her suspicion. "My mom said the name's for good luck. All Sams are smart."

'All Sams are smart.'

"Uhhh yeah," Sam somehow managed through his constricted throat. He was saved from saying anything else as the Impala cruised to a stop right in front of them.

The girl jumped with glee at the sight of the car.

"I think I'm in love with your car!" She squealed, running a hand over the glossy metal body, sighing happily. Dean got out and nodded proudly.

"Me, too."

Dean handed her his card. "Call me if you ever need anything, okay? And I mean anything at all."

She took the card and looked up at him. "You remember the deal right, Deano?"

"Sure do, Shorty," he smiled. 

"Hey, Dean," Violet called. In the next split second she was sprinting towards him.

And like it was the most obvious, most instinctual thing, Dean opened his arms, the girl slamming into his embrace, closing her eyes the moment her cheek pressed into his chest. Dean in turn held her tight, running his hand over her back.

Sam saw the satisfied smile on his brother's face, the absolute adoration with which he held her. Dean pecked Violet lightly on her forehead and she seemed to relax in his hold, both clearly unwilling to let go first. The picture was perfect and surreal.

Sam rolled his eyes upwards, willing the tears pressing his eyes to not roll down, praying for strength so they could face what was obviously coming their way, but most of all trying to behold the absolute jubilation he felt in the moment. How? How had Dean not realized that he was holding his own daughter in his arms?

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