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winniewritesstories · 3 months ago

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Shifter | The (Mis)Adventures iii

Summary - Meg's father picks her up from school. Or does he? Set between 1x16 (Shadow) and 1x20 (Dead Man's Blood).

Pairings/characters - Meg Winchester (OC), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (mentioned).

Dean Winchester x little sister, Sam Winchester x little sister, John Winchester x daughter

Warnings - some violence, swearing, John Winchester's A+ parenting

Language - English (British)

Word Count - 9,910 (I got a bit carried away...)

Notes - This is set between 1x16 and 1x20, with some canon divergence. Not proof read lmao

Credits - gif via @lower-the-volume

The Winchester's were settled - as settled as they ever were - in a small, nondescript town in the mid west, the same as hundreds of other towns they had stayed in or passed through over the years. Meg was even enrolled in elementary school.

After their father had finally turned up - and abruptly left again - Meg had felt uneasy, and the boys had too, though they wouldn't admit it, so they decided that sticking to one town for a while could be good for all of them.

Meg hadn't really been to school before. She was home-schooled, sort of, by her brothers and occasionally Uncle Bobby. They didn't follow a curriculum or do tests, but they spent a few hours each day going over all different subjects - numbers, reading, history, science - and Meg frequently had her head in a book. She hadn't expected to like school. While she most definitely did not like being separated from her brothers all day, she enjoyed the classroom and the playground, hanging out with kids her own age, using the multitude of crayons and pens and craft supplies, playing with footballs and bicycles.

What she had never imagined was that her father would pick her up from school. Mrs P. - that's what everyone called her - waved Meg over to the school gate where John Winchester stood waiting. Meg's eyes were wide as saucers when she saw him, half excitement, half trepidation.

"Daddy!" she cried nonetheless, throwing her small arms around him in a hug. He swung her off the ground and sat her on his hip, giving her hair an affectionate pat. "Bye Mrs P.!" Meg called as John walked towards the car. It was different from his truck, not as big or shiny. Maybe the truck was broken and Dean was fixing it. He was good like that. That must be why Dean wasn't here.

John opened the passenger side door and placed Meg on the seat. No car seat! "Dean says little kids have to have a car seat, Daddy," Meg said. John gave her a conspiratorial smile.

"I thought you were a big girl now?" he replied, switching on the ignition. Meg beamed.

"I am, Daddy. But Dean doesn't listen." she replied, fiddling with the various buttons. John pulled away from the school just as she found the radio.

________

Dean locked the Impala and meandered through a crowd of children and soccer moms to the school gate. Meg was usually waiting for him, stood patiently next to her teacher. She enjoyed school, but he had to admit it made him a little warm and fuzzy inside to know she missed him.

Today, however, Meg wasn't stood by the gate. Mrs P., the third grade teacher, was talking to a small group of moms, their children playing with each other nearby. Dean scanned the playground quickly, a small frown on his face, looking for two brown pigtails and dungarees. The playground was emptying now, children trailing out of the gate onto buses and into minivans, so it should've been easy to see her.

Dean caught Mrs P.'s eye, beckoning her over with a nod of his head.

"Hey, where's Meg?" he asked, cutting right to the point.

"Oh! Her father picked her up today." Mrs P. said with a smile. Dean's stomach dropped, twisting anxiously.

"What?" he asked, momentarily dumbfounded. "I mean... our father's out of state on business."

"Oh, well... he signed in at the front desk. Showed his ID and everything. John Winchester, Kansas, right?" Mrs P. asked, looking confused but not exactly concerned.

Dean, on the other hand, was extremely concerned. Dad wouldn't just show up and take Meg out of school, not without telling him, and he certainly wouldn't show his actual ID.

"He... he's not here." Dean said, through gritted teeth. "So who has my sister?" Dean tried his best to remain calm, not to let panic and fear overwhelm him.

"I can assure you, Dean, he is here. Reception checked his ID against our records."

"He isn't even listed as an authorised adult to pick her up!" he said, voice rising. "Sam and I filled in those damn forms ourselves. How the hell could you let an eight year old wonder out of school with a stranger?"

"Not a stranger, her father." Mrs P. replied, an edge to her voice. "You are more than welcome to check with the front desk if you have any concerns, but we do our due diligence before letting the children leave."

Dean's jaw was set as he turned on his heel, stalking back towards his car. He flipped his phone out, dialling his father's number. He wasn't expecting an answer, and indeed, John did not pick up. He tried Sam instead, hitting the gas and pulling away from the school.

"Sam, is Meg with you?" Dean asked, voice sharp.

"What?" Sam's voice crackled through the phone. "Of course not. You're picking her up."

"She's not here. They said... the teacher said Dad picked her up."

"Dad? Our dad?" Sam asked. "He's not even in the state is he? Why would he just show up and pick Meg up from school?"

"I don't know!" Dean shouted down the phone, no longer able to suppress the panic. "I mean - he wouldn't. You heard him the other week, he thinks it's too dangerous for us to be together anyway. No way he'd just show up unannounced and take Meg."

"What do we do, Dean?" Sam asked, urgency and fear in his voice.

"I'm on my way back to you. I've tried Dad but can't get him, you keep calling, texting, anything." With that, Dean hung up, speeding back towards the motel. He tried his dad again as he pulled in to the space outside their room.

"Dad?" he asked, shocked to the core he even picked up.

"Dean," his father's voice was flat, unimpressed. "I told you-"

"Have you got Meg?" Dean cut him off. They didn't have time for a lecture.

"What? Why would I have Meg?"

"The school said you picked her up. Showed your ID to reception. Is she with you?"

"No, Dean, of course she's not with me. Who the fuck has her? Why would they let her leave with a random-"

"I don't know! I don't know, Dad. But she - she's not here. She wasn't at school, she's not - fuck!" Dean cried down the phone, the fear now all-consuming. "What state are you in?"

"Just left Texas. Text me your address, I'm on my way." John replied, voice icy cold and tense. Then he hung up, without waiting for a reply.

Dean slammed the door of the motel room shut behind him.

"Dad's in Texas," he said by way of greeting to Sam, who had been pacing the motel room, cellphone in hand. Sam stopped pacing, face pale.

"Then... then who..?"

"I don't know," Dean snapped harshly. "I don't - fuck. How could I let this happen?"

"Dean, this isn't... you couldn't have known this would happen. I called Bobby, he's on his way. Figure... figured we'd need all the help we could get." Sam said, trying to comfort his brother, who felt everything, everywhere was his fault.

"Dad is too. Says he just left Texas."

"Dad's coming?" Sam asked, unable or not bothered enough to hide the surprise in his voice.

"Yes, Sam, of course he's coming. His daughter is m-" Dean couldn't even say the word. Missing. His jaw was tense, breathing heavy. "He'll be here."

"So, what could've taken her? A shifter, maybe, if it looked like dad?" Sam questioned, reverting into problem-solving mode. "But then, what the hell would a shifter want with Meg? Or dad, for that matter?"

"I don't know, Sam," Dean said. God, how many times had he said those words this last hour? So many unknowns - who had her? Was she hurt? Or worse, was she -

No. Dean couldn't go there. If he started thinking like that, starting spiralling and letting the fear control him, they might never get her back.

"Does the school have cameras?" Sam asked, opening his laptop. "We could look for camera flares." Dean nodded, taking a deep, steadying breath.

This was a hunt. A case. He could do that. Work the case, find the monster, save the kid. It's what he does. What he's been doing most of his life. It's just a case.

________

It didn't take Meg long to figure out something was... wrong with her father. As if showing up to her school hadn't been strange enough, they then drove out of town, opposite direction to the motel the Winchester's had been staying in.

"Where are Sam and Dean?" Meg piped up from the passenger seat. Dad hadn't even prompted her to put a seat belt on, but she'd done it anyway. Otherwise Dean would just lecture her.

"They're... they'll meet us there." John replied, eyes fixed on the road.

"Where?" Meg asked.

John's jaw tensed. Meg was used to that. She asked a lot of questions, and Dad rarely answered. Usually snapped at her to be quiet. Dean explained things, as best he could, in a way that she could understand, a way that wouldn't scare her too much. "Never mind where," John replied, as his cell began to ring. He flipped it open, eyes darting between the road and the screen. "Yeah? I've got her. Was almost too easy."

Meg listened to half the conversation, nervousness twisting in her belly. What did that mean? The voice on the end of the phone didn't sound like Sam or Dean, so who was he talking to?

Meg pressed herself closer to the door, trying to put some distance between herself and the person who looked like her father. She wanted her brothers.

John smirked into the phone. "Oh, they'll take the bait alright. She's a pretty little thing. They won't leave her behind."

Meg trembled in her seat. That didn't sound right. None of it felt right. The man looked like her father, had his voice, but... he wasn't. Something in the way he held himself, his manner of speaking. She realised with a jolt of dread and panic that this was not her father, no matter what her eyes were telling her.

She really, really wanted her brothers now.

________

Two days. It had been two days since Meg had been taken. Dean hadn't slept a wink, a combination of coffee, adrenaline, and fear keeping him up.

They had accessed the schools cameras, and indeed, it was a shifter, the eyes of not-John Winchester flaring silvery-grey. They'd even got the license plate of the car he was driving, but it was stolen a few states over and didn't lead anywhere solid. Bobby had arrived a few hours after Sam called him, helping the boys poke around the town, searching out spots where a shifter might lay low, to no avail. Further research turned up shifter-sounding cases in nearby towns, which Bobby had gone to check out, see if he could pick up a trail or find any clues.

Sam and Dean stayed in the town in case Meg showed up, following any lead they could. They expected something - a ransom call, negotiation, anything - and the lack of communication made Dean even more uneasy.

Sam had suggested calling the police, reporting her as a missing person, but Dean thought that would only make things worse. Especially if they saw the footage of John Winchester walking out the school gates with Meg on his hip. Last thing they needed was a manhunt for their father.

Dean hated the waiting. The research. They'd checked every warehouse, sewer, abandoned building in the town, twice, but it didn't feel like enough. None of it did. They were waiting on a call from Dad or Bobby, or one of their contacts to get back to them. Sam had rung the sheriff's office, security companies, anything he could think of, to see if any break ins or suspicious activity had been reported. Nothing.

All he could think of was how scared she must be. He had no idea what kind of conditions they were keeping her in - was she tied up? Was she being fed? - but the thought of a monster with their father's face holding her hostage somewhere.... Dean would never forgive himself for this. It was his job, to take care of his siblings. God, he should never have put her in school, never let her out of his sight for so long.

A harsh rap at the door startled Dean from his thoughts. He and Sam looked at each other briefly, before Dean unlocked it and opened it, revealing John Winchester.

He pushed into the room, not greeting either of his sons, slinging a duffel onto the floor. He headed for the fridge.

"What the hell happened?" he shouts, turning to face the boys, uncapping a bottle of beer. "You were supposed to look after her." Dean looked at the floor, unable to meet his father's eyes.

"I... I went to pick her up from school, and they said... they said that you had already collected her, said you showed your ID and everything, an-"

"Why the hell was she in school, Dean? You know how dangerous is can be-"

"It's just school, Dad!" Sam fired back. "We just wanted her to be a normal kid, for once in her life, school isn't supposed to be dangerous, or weird - it's where she should've been all along!"

"Oh, no, don't you lecture me about school, boy!" John shouted, old tensions and arguments coming to the surface. Dean was suffocating. "You can-"

"Alright, enough! Both of you!" Dean yelled, standing between them. "We don't have time for this, Meg needs us, so stow the crap, get over yourselves, and start thinking. Meg is relying on us." His voice trembled slightly over the last sentence. Dean had one priority right now. He had tunnel vision, focused only on the little girl who needed him to find her. The Winchester men stood silently for a tense moment, each wound like coiled springs. Dean took a steadying breath, trying to remain calm, collected. He turned to his father. "It’s a shifter. We went back and checked the camera’s outside the school, and the eyes flared. We encountered one a few months back in St. Louis." He began calmly. "Bobby is-"

"You called Bobby?" John snapped. Granted, the two men weren’t on good terms - Bobby had nearly pumped John full of buck shot last they’d seen each other - but the old man, grumpy as he could be, cared for Meg deeply.

"Yes, we called Bobby. He was closer than you, and we need all the help we can get." Dean said tightly. "I don’t care what you think of the man, he loves her, and he’s doing whatever he can to help." John clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything. Dean took it as permission to continue. "Bobby’s checking out potential shifter activity in nearby towns. There’ve been reports of strange behaviour, people in two places at once, that kinda thing. Sam and I stayed in town in case…. In case she came back. Showed up. We’ve been scouting places shifters like to hide out." John nodded. Dean could see his brain working, forming potential plans, dismissing the ones that wouldn’t work, recalling everything he could about shifters.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath and putting his bottle on the table. “That’s good. That's - it's a solid start. You got a map of this place?" Sam turned tightly, pulling out the map of the town they had found. It was covered in black and red marker, places circled and crossed out, anywhere the shifters could be keeping Meg. John leaned down, looking over the town, at the places Sam and Dean had already searched. "You checked this place?" he asked, pointing to what looked like a factory on the edge of the town.

"No, not yet." Dean said softly. Sam pulled out his computer, looking up the site.

"Okay... so it seems like it was abandoned a few years ago. An old steel mill. Seems pretty remote, could be worth searching it." Sam said, tapping away at the keyboard. "There's another empty factory, a processing plant, about... two miles further up. We could check 'em both?" John nodded stiffly.

"I'll take one, you two take the others. Where's the silver?"

"Dad, we'll be safer if we stick together. Splitting up-" Sam began

"We can cover more ground if we separate. It'll be quicker that way." John replied, his tone not leaving room for argument. But Sam pressed on.

"We have no idea how many there could be! You can't go on your own, Dad, it's-"

"Dammit, Sam, do as you're told!" John shouted, eyes blazing.

"We aren't kids anymore, Dad, you can't just give out orders like some goddamn drill sergeant!" Sam yelled back. Dean rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth.

"For the love of God!" Dean shouted, stunning Sam and John into silence. He was breathing heavily. "Dad, you take the processing plant, Sam and me will check the steel mill. We'll split up if only so I don't have to listen to you two arguing. Meg is out there, alone, terrified, and you two can't grow up and get over yourselves for five goddamn minutes! Pull yourselves together!" Dean didn't raise his voice at his father often - scratch that, ever. But he was sick with worry and needed to find his little girl, and the arguing wasn't helping. He reached for the weapons duffle. "We got silver bullets and knives in here." He said, quieter now, loading the clip of his gun with silver bullets and tucking a blade into his belt. Sam and John readied their own weapons, the room heavy with a tense silence.

They left the motel rooms, driving to the abandoned industrial estate in their separate vehicles. The Impala turned off at the steel mill, John's truck carrying on to the processing plant. As Dean looked up at the factory, his stomach twisted, praying she'd be in there, that she was safe.

"Ready?" Sam asked, checking the magazine on his gun again and pulling out a flash light. Dean swallowed, nodding, as they headed into the mill.

________

Meg's body trembled, a combination of fear and cold. They'd arrived at some old factory or warehouse a while ago, not-John dragging her in by the rope he had tied around her wrists. He had put in her in a cage, slightly bigger than a dog crate, finally releasing her bruised wrists. She could stand up, but barely, and there was a bucket in the corner. She had a thread-bare blanket wrapped around her shoulders, though it did little to stave off the biting chill.

There were three men now, the man who wasn't her father, and two shorter, mousey looking men. Mostly they left her alone, drinking beer and playing cards. Sometimes the phone rang, and the took orders from someone - Meg assumed it was their boss, because they twitched every time it rang.

Meg had never known hunger or fear or cold like she did now. She kept hoping, praying, begging Sam and Dean to find her, believing in her brother's to rescue her. But every hour that passed made her worry more and more that they'd never find her, that she was stuck here forever with these monsters.

It was not-John who scared her the most. It was her father, but it wasn't. His face sometimes curled into this sickening smile, so un-Dad-like, and his laugh, which she rarely heard, was cruel and callous. His green eyes raked over her like she was a piece of meat; his entire demeanour made her skin crawl.

She realised she was crying again, tears snaking down her cheeks. She was surprised she had the energy left to cry. Meg licked at the tears as the trickled down her cheeks, the moisture - though salty - a small relief on her dry tongue. As her stomach growled at her in hunger, she wondered if she was going to die.

________

Dean kicked over an old barrel outside the steel mill, frustration and panic building to new heights.

"Dean," Sam said softly. "We'll find her. She'll be alright."

"Will we, Sam? Because we are running outta places to search in this godforsaken town, and anything could be happening to her right now." He snapped, fists clenched at his sides. Sam sighed, swallowing. Dean was right; they were running out of locations in the town where a shifter could keep a young girl. But he set his jaw, taking a deep breath.

"We're gonna find her," he said, with more conviction than he felt. Dean looked at him with uncertainty, but his phone rang before he could reply.

"Dad?" he asked, hope flickering to life in his stomach.

"She ain't here," John said gruffly over the phone. "But I got someone. Think he's working for the shifters."

"Stay put, we're on our way." Dean replied, snapping his phone shut. Sam looked at him questioningly.

Dean put his foot to the floor as they sped toward the processing plant, filling Sam in on the way. The Impala screeched to a stop next to John's truck, engine barely off before he was out the car and racing inside.

John had the guy tied to a chair in the middle of the abandoned factory. He'd tested him extensively; silver, holy water, salt. He was human.

"This him?" Dean asked, voice low and rough. John nodded.

"Yeah. Found evidence that a shifter was here, reckon this one knows something." John replied, keeping his voice even.

"Evidence? You find any evidence Meg was here?" Sam asked, hope lacing his voice.

"No," John admitted quietly. "But a shifter definitely shed its skin here. Whole mess of skin and crap back there." He jerked his head toward a back room, the walls painted with blood and gunk. God, he hated shifters.

Beside them, Dean's hands clenched and unclenched into fists, his breathing ragged and uneven. He approached the man, who at least had the decency to look ashamed and afraid.

"Where is she?" Dean asked, voice low with a barely contained rage.

"Don't know what you're talking 'bout." the man said, though he avoided Dean's gaze. Dean hit him, the man's nose breaking with a crunch as Dean's fist connected. The man let out a shout, blood beginning to drip from his nose. John and Sam were by Dean's side in an instant, Sam's hand on Dean's arm.

"I said where is she?" Dean repeated, eyes simmering. He didn't have time to lose. The man spit blood onto the floor by Dean's feet.

"Fuck you," he snarled. So Dean hit him again. This time Sam pulled him away, forcing him to take several steps back.

"Dean, stop. Stop it. He's human." Sam said.

"And?" Dean asked, eyes still firmly fixed on the target. Sam was taken aback by Dean's callousness, the unnerving look in his eyes.

"I know you've been working with shifters. Where'd they go?" John asked calmly, pacing in front of the man.

"I already said, I don't know what you're on about." the man repeated, blood coating his teeth and dripping down his jaw. Dean tried to step toward him but Sam blocked him, hands on his shoulders.

"Listen, Steve. It is Steve, isn't it?" John asked in that same, even tone. He didn't wait for a reply. "We can do this two ways. Either tell us who you've been working for, and where they went. Or I'll let my boy here beat it out of you." The man gulped. Dean liked the sound of the second option.

"I'm just a caretaker. Ain't seen nobody round these parts for years," Steve replied, avoiding eye contact with any of the Winchester's. John sighed, but Dean didn't wait for permission.

He launched himself at Steve, punching him so hard the chair fell backwards. Dean knelt on top of the man, gripping the collar of his shirt.

"You tell me where the hell they went right now, or so help me God." he snarled, twisting the shirt in his hands.

"God?" Steve asked, smiling. "What's God gonna do to those monsters?"

Dean hit him again, and again, breaking the chair Steve had been tied to. He dragged the man to his feet, throwing him against a nearby wall.

"My little girl is out there! You tell me what you know, or you can ask God himself what he does to monsters!" Dean shouted, forearm pressed to Steve's throat.

Behind them, Sam and John watched in silence. Sam looked briefly to John, wondering if they should stop Dean. John let the scene unfold. He'd never seen Dean so angry - so afraid. Something in John twisted when Dean called Meg his little girl. Guilt? Anger? Shame? All of them, he supposed.

And Dean was right. Meg was more his little girl than she ever was John's.

There was a pregnant pause, a brief moment of tension.

"There's a shipping yard, 'bout forty miles from here. That's where they were headed." Steve said quietly, the words slightly muffled by his split lip. Dean let the man go, turning on his heel and stalking toward the Impala.

"What do we do with this guy?" Sam asked, looking at Steve, who was slumped against the wall, a hand pressed to his face.

"Leave him," John said, picking up his weapons. "He ain't worth any more of our time."

Outside the processing plant, Dean was already in the Impala, engine revving.

"I'll follow you." John said as Sam slid in to the passenger seat. Dean nodded at his father, and the second Sam's door closed, the Impala's tyres screeching as they took off toward to the shipping yard.

________

Meg's eyes fluttered open, blinking in the dimness of the room. She'd drifted off again, despite her efforts to stay awake. She didn't know what might happen to her if she slept.

Not-John had left a little while ago, leaving the other two men to guard her. The watched her with their beady eyes, shifting in their seats, their card game abandoned. The phone, which sat on the table between them, hadn't buzzed in several hours, and it made them nervous.

Meg stayed huddled in her corner, rocking slowly in an attempt to comfort herself. She hummed Hey, Jude, the song that Dean would sing when she had a nightmare or couldn't fall asleep. It was a little comforting, but it made her miss Dean even more. She wanted him to sing it to her, to hold her close and rock her gently, snuggled against him in the Impala or a rickety motel bed. She wanted to hear Sam typing away in the corner or the sound of the Impala's engine. She wanted her brothers.

She was crying again, wondering if she'd ever see them again, every hear Dean's terrible jokes or Sam's laugh. God, at this point, she even missed her dad, the small, soft smiles he reserved for her, the way he let her sit on his shoulders, the fact she could play any music she liked in his truck.

But the thought of her father was slightly tainted now, the memories of him combining with the sinister looks of the shifter, the way it had taken her and locked her up.

Distantly, there was a clang, metal hitting metal. Meg froze, ceasing the rocking and humming, her body stiff with fear. Was not-John back? Or worse, was it the leader, the one who phoned every few hours? The one who seemed to scare even her captors.

She pressed herself as far back as she could, sharp metal bars pressing into her back, the blanket wrapped tight around her as if it could shield her. Then there was a distant shout, and her two captors stood, reaching for their knives. Meg was paralysed with fear, her whole body shaking as she tried to stay quiet, stay hidden.

The door was kicked open, and Meg whimpered as a fight broke out, the shifters launching themselves toward the door. There were shouts, the sound of metal on metal, and a gun shot. Meg screamed, the sound reverberating around the small room.

Then the cage door was rattling as someone tried to open it, and Meg pressed her hands over her ears, eyes squeezed shut. Please, please, please, she whispered to herself. I don't want to die.

Someone's hands were on her and she screamed again, thrashing her arms and scrabbling backward, although there was nowhere else to go. Distantly, she could hear someone saying her name, calling her.

"Meg. Megsie, it's me, look at me. It's Sam." he repeated, trying to reach her, to soother her. She was trembling, eyes shut and hands over her ears, pressed against the back of the cage.

She opened her eyes, looking up at Sam. Sam.

Or was it? Not-John had looked like her dad, and then she ended up here. Maybe she wasn't safe after all.

"Get back!" she cried, putting her hands out in front of her to protect herself.

"Meg, baby, it's me, it's Sam." he said again, reaching out slowly, but she screamed once more and he pulled his hand back. Behind him, a body thudded to the floor, but Sam couldn't take his eyes off her. Her cheeks were sunken in, dark bags beneath her eyes. She was shaking like a leaf, so scared - of him.

"Go away! You're not him!" she shouted, pressing her eyes shut again, sobbing softly.

Dean knelt next to Sam, his heart breaking at the sight of his little girl, so exhausted and afraid.

"Megs," he called softly, unable to hide the desperation in his voice. "Meg, it's us. Look at me, it's us." She whimpered, opening her eyes, crying softly as she saw him. She wanted so desperately to believe him. It looked like Dean, it sounded like Dean... but so did the one with her father's face, the one who had taken her.

She shuddered, shaking her head. "You're monsters," she whispered. Dean's heart broke.

"No, sweetheart. It's us. Meg, Goose, please - it's me." Dean pleaded with her, worry etched into every line on his face, voice desperate. He reached a tentative hand out for her.

"Go away! Get back, you're not him!" She cried, shrinking back into the corner. Dean was beginning to panic now, desperate to hold her, make sure she was okay, but she was afraid of him. Of him.

"Hey," Sam said softly, taking the silver blade from his pocket. "Remember the St. Louis shifter? Remember how silver burned them?"

Meg's eyes were wide, locked on to the blade, but she nodded. She remembered St. Louis, the shifter who had taken Dean's form. Sam pressed the silver blade against his hand. It didn't burn. Then he did the same to Dean, and again, the silver didn't burn his skin.

It was them. They found her.

"Sammy?" she whispered. "Dean?"

"Yeah, baby girl, it's us. It's us." Dean said softly, heart in his throat. They watched her with wide, cautious eyes as she looked between them, still trembling. She looked to Dean, his piercing green eyes glistening with fear and love and hope, then to Sam, whose wide puppy-eyed stare so often matched her own.

Her brothers. Her boys. They found her.

"De," she cried launching herself forward and into their arms. Dean gripped hold of her, pulling her firmly into his lap and cradling her close. Sam wrapped his arms around the pair of them, needing to hold his little sister close, desperate to keep her safe. Dean murmured softly against her hair, holding her so tightly and never intending to let go. She sobbed into her brother, face tucked tightly into his neck. Sam pressed a soft kiss to her head, a stray tear or two falling, his hand warm and steady on her back. She was safe.

Sam pulled away first, trying to assess Meg's body for injuries. She was scrawnier, her spine visible beneath the thin t-shirt. Her hair was matted, limbs dirty, but there were no obvious injuries, no blood. A small relief. He tried to coax her from Dean's neck, to check her face and neck for wounds, to ask if she was hurt, if she was okay, but she wouldn't move. Wouldn't, or perhaps couldn't, too afraid to let him go ever again. And, from the look on Dean's face, the few tears he discreetly wiped away, Dean wouldn't be letting her go ever again, either.

Behind the trio, the door opened, and John walked in. His shoulders sagged in relief when he saw Meg, cradled safely in her brothers arms. But she stiffened and turned at the sound, and when she saw him her face twisted in panic.

"No!" Meg cried, trying to scramble away from him, the man with her father's face. He was back. "Go away!"

"Meg - hey, no, it's him, it's Dad," Dean said gently, holding her arms so she couldn't run. "It's okay. The shifter's dead. It's really Dad." But his words had no effect. All Meg could see was the man who'd taken her. She was shaking again, eyes wide with fear, fresh tears falling down her face.

"No, no, please," she begged. Sam took the silver blade, walking quickly over to John, whose face betrayed the pain of seeing his daughter fear him.

"Meg, hey - look. No burn, see?" he said, pressing the blade to John's skin. "He's human. Not a shifter." Sam reassured her, pocketing the blade and coming back to crouch next to her. She regarded John warily, pressing herself close to Dean, who had his arm securely around her waist.

"Hey, princess." John said softly, kneeling a few feet away so as not to scare her. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." John didn't really know what he was apologising for. For the shifter taking his face? Or for not being there for her in the first place? He gave her a small, soft smile, trying to offer her some reassurance, some proof it was really him.

Meg sniffled, still pressed firmly against Dean, eyes flickering nervously over her father's face. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, turning to Dean with fresh tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whimpered, clutching Dean's hand in her own. "I'm sorry I left school without you, without checking, I- I thought that - that..." She hiccuped as Dean shushed her gently.

"Hey, no, it's not your fault, Meg. It's okay - you thought it was Dad, you couldn't have known. It's okay, sweetheart. Don't apologise." Dean said, cupping her cheek with his free hand and wiping away some stray tears. Seeing her like this, apologising for it... God, it broke his heart.

"C'mon," Sam said, standing and holding out a hand. "Let's get out of here. Get you to a hospital." Meg swallowed, wide eyes flicking between her family.

"No hospital," she whispered, voice hoarse. "Please." Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Dean ran his eyes over her body, no clear wounds or serious concerns evident, but God knows he'd feel better having her checked out properly. But how would they explain this to a doctor? To the CPS? He held her hands gently.

"We'll take you to the motel, check you over there. But if Sammy or I find anything that needs medical attention, we're taking you straight to a doctor. Capiche?" Dean said softly, toeing the line between doing what was best for her and not traumatising her further.

"Capiche." She echoed. When Dean stood up, she held out her arms, unwilling or perhaps unable to walk. Dean scooped her up wordlessly, glad to be able to hold her close still, and the trio headed for the door.

John hung back, unsure if he should go with them, not wanting to frighten his daughter more. He settled for trailing after them at a distance, close enough to still hear the soft, reassuring words Dean was murmuring to Meg, but far enough that Meg didn't feel threatened. Her green eyes still flicked over to him every few seconds, wary and distrusting, and it broke his heart.

Meg didn't let go of her brother, even when they got to the car. Her legs were wrapped firmly around his waist, arms around his neck, fingers gripping the collar of his leather jacket tightly. When Dean opened the rear door to the Impala, she whimpered, pressing her face into Dean's neck.

"Okay, it's alright," he said softly. "We'll sit up front, okay? Sammy can drive. You wanna pick some music?"

John watched them carefully for a few more seconds, Dean lowering himself into the car and settling Meg onto his lap, Sam waiting until the were safely inside before getting in himself. John nodded to Sam, a silent meet you at the motel passing between them.

In the Impala, Dean put the heat on full blast, while Meg opened the glovebox and found the Beatles cassette. He smiled at her choice.

"This one?" he asked, popping it in and turning the volume up a fraction. She nodded, snuggling into him, his large leather jacket enveloping them both as Sam drove them back to the motel. The car ride was quiet, Dean humming along to the Beatles, stroking gentle, soothing circles on Meg's back absentmindedly.

They beat John to the motel, pulling in front of the door. Dean carried her in, settling on the bed with her, while Sam fetched the first aid kit and a bottle of water, which Meg gulped down quickly.

"Woah, easy tiger," Dean said, easing the bottle from her grasp. "You're gonna make yourself sick." God knows how long she'd been without water, or food, or anything. He didn't want to think about that too much. Sam took Meg's hands in his gently, rolling up the sleeves. There were red marks on each wrist, bruises purpling underneath.

"Did... did they tie you up?" Sam asked quietly. Meg's lip quivered as she nodded.

"At the first place. Then they... they took me to the place with the cage." She whimpered, breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. Dean squeezed her reassuringly. "I... I really thought it was him."

"I know you did, Scout. I know." Sam said, wiping her wrists with antiseptic for good measure. "Can you stand up for me?"

Meg did, legs shaking, Dean holding her arms for support - physical and emotional. Sam checked her over, feeling for broken bones, cuts, anything. Mercifully, she was okay save the bruised wrists. Sure, she'd lost some weight, was exhausted and dirty, but physically, at least, she was unhurt. Mentally, on the other hand... Sam and Dean knew it would take her some time to understand what happened, to process the trauma.

"You're okay," Sam said, reassuring Meg, himself, and Dean. "Would you like a bath, hm? Get you warmed up and clean?" Meg whimpered, shaking her head and pressing herself back against Dean. He squeezed her arms reassuringly.

"It's okay. We'll stay with you, alright? We won't leave you on your own." He murmured. Just then the motel door opened slowly, John lingering in the doorway. Meg tensed up as she saw him, pressing herself further into Dean's embrace, eyes wide and wary.

"Hey, sweetheart," John said softly, taking a few cautious steps into the room so he could close the door. "I figured you'd be hungry so I picked up some food. Pancakes sound good?" He held up a bag of food, its warm, enticing scent wafting across the small space.

Meg turned in Dean's arms, pressing her face into his neck, body trembling. Dean swallowed, holding her close, glancing at John with a pained, almost guilty expression. John was hurt, face falling as she turned away from him.

"It's okay, sunshine," Dean said reassuringly. "It's Dad. I promise you, it's really him."

"Wanna take a bath," Meg said into Dean's neck. He looked up at Sam, then John.

"Okay, sweetie. We'll get you bathed. Then you put on your pyjama's and we'll eat, yeah?" Dean spoke softly, as if speaking to a frightened animal that might bolt at any second. Meg nodded, pulling herself back from his arms slightly.

Sam grabbed her duffle, rummaging around for some pyjama's, the soft, fluffy ones she liked, draping them over the heater so they'd be warm for her. Dean picked her up carefully, sitting with her on the closed toilet seat while he ran a hot bath. John stayed, frozen, just inside the door, unsure what he should do, unable to take his eyes off the little girl who feared him now.

"Dad," Sam calls quietly. "It'll be okay. She'll come round. She just... she just needs a minute." John swallowed thickly, nodding. His eyes burned with tears he refused to let fall. God, what was he doing to his children? Sam clapped him on the shoulder, heading to the bathroom to be with Dean and Meg.

After a warm bath, the grime scrubbed from her body and her hair freshly washed, Meg pulled on the pyjama's Sam had set out for her, toasty warm from the heater. She held up a hairbrush wordlessly, silently asking one of her brother's to comb through the tangles. Sam took it, gently brushing through her damp hair, while Dean tidied the bathroom.

In the main room of the motel, John sat at the small table, bag of food in the middle, a beer in his hand. Meg stood in the doorway of the bathroom, eying him suspiciously, her toes curling anxiously into the carpet. When he noticed her, he gave her a soft smile, eyes kind.

It was her father, Meg realised suddenly. The shifter had never looked at her like that, its eyes had never been so gentle, never held anything except malice. She returned the smile with a small, hesitant one of her own, making her way slowly to the table.

"What kinda pancakes did ya get?" She asked softly.

"Chocolate chip, of course," John replied, pushing the bag towards the edge of the table. She gave him a bigger smile then, flashing the gap in her front teeth, taking another few steps towards him. He'd remembered her favourite food. Still, she waited for Sam to join them before she sat down, climbing into his lap.

He put his arm around her waist, holding her firmly on his knees so she wouldn't fall, as she began eating her pancakes, dribbling syrup down her chin. Sam ran his ringers through her unruly curls, slowing springing back to life as they dried. Dean joined them a minute later, relieved to see she was eating something, and that wasn't trembling in the presence of their father. Sam looked up at him, brows furrowed, taking in Dean's disheveled appearance and red-rimmed eyes. Dean avoided eye contact at all costs, instead pulling up a seat next to them. John handed him a beer wordlessly as they exchanged looks.

They still had questions, still needed to figure out why the shifter had taken Meg in the first place. They watched her eat a moment longer as she shoved forkful after forkful into her mouth, clearly starving. Dean wiped her sticky chin with a napkin, smiling softly down at her.

"Don't eat too fast, Goose." he said. He looked at his father again, who nodded. "Megs... do you know why the shifter took you?"

She froze, fork halfway to her mouth, eyes going wide. Her hands trembled slightly as she set the cutlery down, folding her hands in her lap. She shook her head slowly.

"They didn't say why, but... but I think they wanted you guys to come." She began softly, twisting her fingers anxiously. "They said... it said you'd take the bait." Dean reached out a hand, holding her small ones in his own, trying to soothe her. She looked up at him, wide green eyes brimming with tears again. "I'm sorry I went with him - it. I'm sorry I left school, I-"

"Hey, hey, shh. Stop apologising, sweetheart. It's not your fault." Dean said softly, one hand on her face to wipe away the tears. "It's not. You thought it was Dad, you had no reason to think otherwise." He repeated his words from earlier. He didn't want her to distrust her father, their family. It wasn't like they could have the 'don't talk to strangers' lecture; she knew that, it had been ingrained in her for as long as she could remember.

"Meg," John spoked up next to then. Her eyes flickered over to him, momentarily betraying the fear she still held for her father's visage. "Were they all shifters? Or were any of them demons? Did you smell sulphur at all?"

"I think they were shifters. I don't know what sulphur smells like, but I don't think so." Meg said quietly.

"Rotten eggs. Sulphur smells like eggs." John prompted, but Meg shook her head again. "Did they mention demons at all, any demon?"

"Dad." Sam said, voice low in warning.

"I don't think so. There was... they spoke to someone on the phone a lot. But I don't know who."

"The demon? Did they use a name at all? Or a location?" John pressed further.

"Dad." Sam repeated, more forcefully. John glared at him momentarily. Meg gulped at the sight, the warmth in his eyes earlier - the look that had reminded her this was, in fact, her father - was gone, replaced with a cool anger.

"I don't - I don't know, Dad. I'm sorry, they didn't say anything about demons, I don't think. I'm sorry." Meg whispered tearfully, avoiding John's piercing gaze. Dean stroked his thumb over her shaking hands softly.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Don't apologise." Dean reassured her.

"Anything, Meg. Anything you can think of will help us." John said again, not seeing or perhaps not caring that his daughter was growing increasingly agitated.

"Enough." Dean snapped, only half turning his head to look at his father. He turned back to Meg, his gaze softening. "It's okay if you don't know anything. Don't worry about it now, you're safe." Meg nodded, looking down at her feet, swinging a foot off the floor. "Why don't you finish eating, hm? Then we can watch cartoons." She gave him a small smile, turning to her plate, but she didn't eat anymore, just pushed pieces of pancake around the plate.

"I need some air." John muttered, standing so abruptly that Meg flinched. He looked down, eyes betraying his guilt, but didn't say anything and left the room. Dean's jaw was set as he stood - slower than John did - and followed after him.

"Dad," Dean said, closing the motel room door softly so he wouldn't startle Meg. "You can't interrogate her like that. Not after what she's just been through."

"This is the demon's work, Dean. It knows I'm closing in on it." John snaps.

"Maybe so. But your daughter just got kidnapped by a bunch of shifters. Anything could have happened to her! And you want to question her? To- to find the demon?" Dean snaps back, trying to control his temper. He loved his father, he did, but sometimes his priorities were all wrong. Dean - his top priorities always have been, and always will be, his siblings.

"We have been hunting this thing for 20 years, Dean! I am this close to catching it, to getting revenge for your mother. That's what all this is about, Dean, I'm not gonna give up now." John fires back, breathing heavily.

"No one is asking you to give up, Dad, but for once will you just try and be a parent to that little girl? Not a hunter, not a - a drill sergeant. Just a dad." Dean snaps. John swallows, looking away from his eldest son. Dean's right, he knows that; he's never been a great father, always training his children, not raising them. Still, it hurts to hear Dean say it.

"Yesterday, you - you called Meg your little girl." John started softly.

"Listen, I'm sorry about that, I-"

"No, Dean, don't apologise. You're right. Shit, you've done more for her than I ever have. You've raised her, cared for her. Everything I should have done, should be doing - you do it. And you do it well. She - she's a wonderful kid, Dean." John looked at his son, pride in his eyes. Dean nodded, a small, fond smile on his face as he thought about her. "My point is, Dean, is that you look after this family. Better than anyone, better than I ever have. I know I'm never around much, I - I don't always put you guys first. But you do. You put this family first, you put your siblings first, always. Every time." Dean nodded, understanding what his father was trying to say - thank you for everything you do, I'm proud of you, I'm sorry - without actually saying it. John clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Dean. For looking after them."

Back inside the motel, Meg was curled up on Sam's lap, trusty red checkered blanket it tow, her favourite plushie, Patch, gripped in one hand. Tom and Jerry played quietly, the lights of the TV illuminating their faces in the dim of the room.

Dean and John entered quietly, but the disruption still made Meg jump, head snapping towards the door. Sam held her closer, keeping her safe.

"Hey, princess," John said quietly, standing near the couch. "I - I gotta take off. It's not safe for any of us if I stick around too long."

"You're leaving?" Sam said in disbelief.

"Yes," John said sharply, eyes flickering back to Meg. "Your brothers are gonna take real good care of you, like always. They'll keep you safe, alright?" Meg nodded, looking up at him. John moved, as if to hug her or take her in his arms, but he settled for resting his hand against her head briefly. "I - I love you, sweetheart. I'm sorry I haven't been here."

Meg just nodded, eyes wide as she looked up at him. John nodded to each of his sons, picking his duffle off the floor. He looked at Dean once more.

"Watch out for your siblings." He said gruffly, before turning on his heel and walking out. The door shut behind him, the three siblings sitting silently for a moment. Dean looked at Meg, at the bags under her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks. He walked over to them, kneeling in front of her.

"Hey, sweet cheeks. How you feeling? You still hungry?" he asked softly, brushing a stray curl from her face. She shook her head. "Okay. Good. Why don't we get you to bed?" Her eyes flickered across the room then back to Dean.

"Will you both stay with me?" she murmured. Dean smiled, nodding.

"Yeah, we will. You want Sammy to read you a story?" She nodded eagerly, holding her arms out to Dean. He swung her onto his hip hugging her close and pressing a kiss to her head. Sam rifled through his bag, looking for The Hobbit. He'd read it to her when he came back from Stanford, and now it was her favourite.

"Can we do a Meg sandwich?" she asks, eyes hopeful. Sam and Dean share a look; the Meg sandwich, as it became known, had started when the heating had packed up in a crappy motel in Chicago in the middle of winter. The Winchester siblings, left alone by their father, had piled into one bed for warmth, two-year-old Meg snuggled between her brothers. It fast became one of her favourite things in the world, even if it wasn't the most comfortable for the boys.

Any other time, under any other circumstances, they probably would've said no. But she'd been gone nearly three days, and they'd come so close to losing her... they couldn't refuse. They didn't want to refuse, both wanting to keep her close for a while, keep her safe.

"Sure thing," Dean said, sliding into the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her. Sam sat on her other side, book in hand, opening it to the first page. Meg lay snuggled against Dean's chest, but faced Sam. He cracked the spine on the well-worn copy of the Hobbit, clearing his throat.

"Are you sitting comfortably?" he asked theatrically. Meg giggled and nodded. "Very good. Let's begin. In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole...."

Meg was asleep within three pages, using Dean's arm as a pillow, her small leg hooked over Sam's. He put the book down, moving some hair from her face, watching her sleep.

"You okay?" he asked Dean. He'd seen his brother's face earlier, his hair tousled where he ran his hands through it, his red eyes. Sam suspected it was a panic attack or something similar, though God knows Dean Winchester would never admit that.

"I'm fine," Dean said shortly, sighing as he looked down at the little girl in his arms. "I just... we came so close to losing her. So close. And I don't know what I would've done if - if-"

"I know," Sam cut him off, not wanting to dwell on that scenario. "But she's okay. She's safe now."

"We can't put her back in school. Not until this demon business is over and Dad's back. We can't take that chance."

"I agree. We'll just continue homeschooling her." Sam replied. Dean nodded. "You should get some rest too, Dean. You didn't sleep a wink the whole time she was missing." Dean shook his head stubbornly.

"Nah. I'll watch over her. She'll feel safer that way." Sam rolled his eyes at his brother.

"No, I'll watch over you both. Get some sleep, you look like crap."

"Oh, thanks, man." Dean replied sarcastically. Sam's eyes rolled again.

"You know what I mean. Get some rest." Sam studied him for a moment, wondering if he'd refuse again. But he didn't; Dean nodded, eyes still fixed on Meg's sleeping form, sliding down to be more comfortable.

Sam watched Dean's eyes flutter close, saw his breathing even out. There weren't many times Sam felt like the oldest and most responsible one. But now, watching his siblings sleep, keeping them safe, he felt the profound sense of responsibility he wondered if Dean always felt. Eventually, Sam sunk back into the pillows too, his arm over Meg's waist, until he drifted off into sleep as well.

________

The Winchester's had left the following afternoon, all three of them wanting to put distance between themselves and the town. Meg had sat in the front of the Impala, nestled between her brothers, too afraid to be alone in the back.

A week later, a new town, a different motel room, Meg woke up alone.

"Dean?" she called out. "Sammy?" She looked around warily. She didn't like being alone anymore.

The key clicked in the lock of the door not a minute later, and her brothers walked in. She scrambled out of bed, backing into the corner.

"Is it definitely you?" she called shakily, unsure if it really was them or if it was monsters wearing their faces. Sam and Dean sighed, pulling out a silver blade. This happened every time one of them left her sight for more than a few minutes. Every time Dean went for food, or Sam to the library, she panicked they'd been swapped for a shifter. They were trying to be patient, of course they were, they knew what she had been through; but it was exhausting.

They each press the blade to their skin, and Meg visibly relaxes when there is no reaction.

"Come here," Dean says, beckoning her over to the small living area. He hoists her up, sitting her on his knee. "Sammy and I had to run a quick errand. It's gonna help you, though. Okay?" She nodded earnestly, looking between her brothers, then to the paper bag in Sam's hand. "Okay. We know you're scared, that you can't tell who's a shifter and who's human. And you know that silver burns shifters, right? Right. Well, this ring," he gestures to the ring that is always on his right hand. "This is silver. And Sammy, we got him a silver bracelet." Sam pulls a silver chain from the bag, as well as a small ring. "And this here, this is for you. A silver ring. So, if you're ever not sure whether someone's human or not, you simply shake their hand. And as long as me and Sammy have our silver on, you'll always know it's really us. Sound good?"

Meg nodded slowly, watching as Sam put his chain on, letting Dean wiggle the ring onto her finger. She fiddled with it, spinning it round, getting used to the feel of it. She leant her head back against Dean's shoulder.

"Thank you," she said quietly. Her brother's had gone to all this effort just so she'd feel safe. Dean smiled at her.

"You don't have to thank us, sweetheart. We're gonna look after you. Always." Dean said softly, rubbing her arm soothingly. Sam smiled at her, too, taking her hand as she reached out for him. "We're gonna take a few days off, okay? No hunting this week. Anything you wanna do?"

Meg thought for a moment, tapping her finger on her chin. "Hmmm.... Disney World?" Sam and Dean exchanged a nervous glance.

"Maybe not Disney World... we could find a carnival or something though." Dean said. Meg sighed softly. She really wanted to go to Disney.

"Okay. Can I ride the ghost train?" she asked. "Oh, and the dodgems. And can we get cotton candy? Or popcorn! I wonder if they sell candy apples?" Meg rambled on, her mood lifting, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. Sam and Dean shared a smile, glad they could ease her worry, if only for a short while. She still didn't sleep well, waking up screaming most nights, insisting the kept a light on. She didn't like to be alone, or be too far from her brothers.

But this morning, she was excited about something. She was bouncing on Dean's knee, talking about food, mostly, but also about stuffed toys and games and fairground rides. Dean put a gentle hand on her head, trying to stop the bouncing.

"Easy, tiger." he said with a laugh. Then she asked the dreaded question.

"Can I choose the music in the car?" Dean sighed. So much for the house rules.

"Fine. Just this once." he said.

But he was lying. All three of them knew it. Meg Winchester could choose the music in the Impala whenever she damn well pleased. She was the only person in the world whom the house rules didn't apply to.

Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts their cakehole; Meg wins them both over with a gap-toothed smile and a glimmer in her eyes.

⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆

this is very much not proofread lol

thx for reading! lmk if you'd like to join the tag list :)

@podado-t-memes @ariesandwolves

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 7 months ago

Note

Remember that scenario about a kid with scarlet witch powers that is like a daughter to team free will

Imagine if she found a dog and bring the pet to the bunker. She tries to hid it using her powers, but eventually the boys found out, what would be their reactions?

I LOVE this idea!

Ok so, with her powers she was able to hide it for WEEKS, and she just kinda thinks that she’s gonna keep getting away with it, but then one day the guys come back early from a hunt…

“What is that?” Sam demands.

And she’s totally prepared for this moment—

“What do you mean? He’s been here for weeks.”

“He’s what?!”

And Sam goes completely nuts trying to figure out how she hid it from them…

“There’s no way he’s been here for weeks.” “I was in your room yesterday, he wasn’t there!” “Is it a powers thing?” “What else are you hiding in here?”

…but Dean honestly doesn’t even care.

“What’s his name?” “Tell him he can sleep in my room.” “Did you get him dog food?” “Does he have toys?”

And the girl starts to worry that Dean is totally gonna steal her dog.

Sam pretends to be stern about the dog—

“You gotta be careful with all the weapons around.” “Is he eating right?” “You should’ve told us.”

—but he’s also constantly playing with the dog.

After the guys find out, the girl realizes that she shouldn’t have been worried about the guys kicking the dog out…

…she should’ve been worried about them taking her dog.

The dog however LOVES all the extra attention

#the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester #supernatural dean #sam winchester #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x oc #sam winchester x little sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #spn sam winchester #dean winchester x little sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister

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fandom-lover2 · 4 months ago

Text

Wayward Adjacent

What if, when Sam and Dean met Adam, he wasn't the only child of John Winchester they found.

Chapter One - Who Are You

Word Count - 1163

Chapter Two - Why Are You Here

I slipped my key into the lock and twisted, and realized that the door was already unlocked.

Well fuck…

Maybe I could still recover from this. Before I had the chance to pull my key out the door, the front door swung open, and I came face to face with a pissed older brother.

“I dropped you off at school two hours ago.”

I shouldered past Adam and into the house, not bothering with my shoes. I wouldn’t be here long.

“Didn’t watch me go into the building.” I shot back, intent on ignoring him for the journey up to my room.

I stopped however when I unexpectantly found two men in our front room. One was freakishly tall, and had longish hair that ended below his ears. The other was tall, but not as tall and had clean cut hair. Both dressed like they came from a small town romance novel, boots, flannel, leather and Carhartt jackets.

“Who the hell are they?”

“Who the hell is she?” me and the shorter one spoke at the same time, and then blinked at one another.

Adam walked in behind me, for some reason holding the framed picture of him and John at his 14th birthday. “This is Andrea.” he introduced as he gestured to me. “Andrea, these are our brothers; Sam-”

“And Dean.” I finished, John’s words resonating in my head.

The men, my brothers, looked at me with a mixture of surprise and horror. The shorter especially looked mortified at my existence.

“Wait, you knew about them?”

“John mentioned them in passing.” I answered distracted, eyeing them up and down closely.

So, these were the guys I was supposed to turn out like. Jonathan would get a kick out of meeting them

. Wait, but if they were here, then I was right. Kate’s disappearance wasn’t natural, the things in the dark had something to do with this.

“Andrea is only my half-sister.” Adam went on to explain. “When her mother died, John brought her here, and my mom took her in. She’s been living with us for a year and a half.”

The shorter one recovered from his shock and was now pissed. And that pissed off look was the one I knew all too well, because it’s the one I saw every time I looked in the mirror. “So, what did Dad do for your birthdays?” he ground out.

“John never came around for my birthday.” I fired back. “Didn’t even know when it was.”

His eyes softened, pity replacing the pissed off.

“How long has your mom been missing.” the taller spoke suddenly, bringing everyone back to the problem at hand.

“Three days.” Adam answered.

“You the last one to see her?” Shorter one addressed me, now studying me differently.

“No.”

“The neighbor saw her get home Tuesday night but she never made it to work Wednesday morning.”

“Where were you?” Taller one asked me.

“School camp. Got back last night.”

Smaller one froze, his eye catching something. I followed his gaze to the framed picture of Kate and John. He dropped his head, eyes clenched. Maybe my mom wasn’t the only cheating one in the relationship. Adam continued answering taller one’s questions about Kate and her disappearance.

“Should have been here.” Adam added to the end of his explanation, eyes tearing up.

I personally wasn’t as affected by this as I should have been. Sure, Kate was welcoming and nice, but we never really formed a bond. Besides, she was always at work so. And Adam was leaving for college as I moved in, so I only knew it from the few times he was home.

Mostly, I was still thanking God that John was dead. If he found out I’d let something happen to Kate, he’d fucking kill me.

“What the uh, what the cops say?” Shorter one saved us from all the emotion.

“Uhh, they searched the house. They didn’t find anything.” Adam answered. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes getting more tear filled as he bounced a little on his feet. “She wouldn’t leave without telling anybody.” his voice cracked.

I’d been like this, with my mom. A crying, emotional wreck the second anything was wrong with her. When you grow up with a single mom, they become more than a parent. They are a friend, a mother, a constant. Loosing the only parent you have leaves the inner child in you scrambling for something to hold onto.

I’d long since given up needing someone to kiss my boo boos, but Adam was still close with his mom.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end again. Since I’d gotten back yesterday, I felt on edge. I couldn’t figure out why. Something wasn’t right, had my hackles up. It was beginning to piss me off.

“It looks like she just dropped off the face of the earth, you know?” Adam continued.

It was silent for a few seconds, as the two men, my eldest brothers, looked at one another. It was in that moment that I realized this was the first time all three of my brothers and I were in the same room. I knew of them, Adam didn’t. They didn’t know about Adam and me. In this room, I had the most knowledge. Which meant, I was going to be questioned soon enough.

“Well, I’m just here for my laptop so I’m gonna…” I made to move out the room and back towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are you going?” The tallest asked.

“Somewhere.” I replied, leaving the room and charging up the stairs.

Once at my room, I closed the door and locked it.

Oh my god! Sam and Dean were here! How did they get here? What had Adam done?

If Sam and Dean knew, if Adam had called them, did that mean John know? Would John come? If John knew I’d let something to Kate, if this was all something metaphysical, I had failed.

He was going to kill me. I needed to get out of here, before he got here. Clean my tracks long before he rolled into town. I didn’t have time to waste.

Darting around my room, I grabbed my backpack and began packing everything I thought I needed. Shirts, only 2, a change of pants, spare hoodie, a handful of underwear and three socks, hairbrush.

Why the hell would Adam phone them? Why the hell would Adam think of calling John? I didn’t even know Adam and John were still in contact. Of all the stupid things my older brother had done, this one took the cake.

All I needed was my toothbrush and I’d be set.

Switching out my jacket for a warmer, waterproof coat, I slung my backpack on my shoulder and pulled my door open. And almost collided into a chest.

Shorter one stood before the door, crossing his arms when he spotted my backpack. “Going somewhere?’

Well crap…

#spn #supernatural #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #winchester sister #john winchester #supernatural adam #adam milligan #kate milligan #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #supernatural oc

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spidrmrk · 14 days ago

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youngest daughter : a supernatural sibling fic masterlist

dean winchester x winchester!oc, sam winchester x winchester!oc

summary : being on the road constantly was something that stevie got used to fairly quickly as a winchester. seven-year-old stevie winchester, never quite grasped the idea of why her family hunted. finding out that the supernatural were, in fact, real, scared her nonetheless. so when john winchester hadn't returned back from a “hunting trip,” stevie had no choice but to tag along to track him down after being kept in bobby's care.

warnings : mentions of death, blood, angst, violence, swearing, abuse, along with other possible triggers.

taglist : is open! send an ask or reply to this post :)

status : ongoing

a/n: this will be an oc x oc fic! however the relationship won't be until the later seasons. and it will most likely be wlw, just to keep in mind :)

i. act one : wasted summers

— season one

chapter one ; family reunion (wip.)

from santana, with love :)

my first ever fanfic, I hope this goes well! this started out as an unfinished draft as my many other fic ideas. nevertheless, this will probably be mediocre and have typos/errors. please don't hesitate to point them out so i can fix them!

this will also be posted to ao3 and likely wattpad as well! my ao3 user is the same as this one. for wattpad, my @ will be disclosed until I decide whether I will post this fic on there, as I rarely use my acc on there.

likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated <3 i hope you enjoy!

#🧸 — youngest daughter!#spidrmrk writes #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x original character #supernatural x reader #supernatural x oc #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x oc #sam winchester x original character #masterlist

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fruitmilkshake · 5 months ago

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Random photo gallery of pictures based on my Spn oc

¡Growing up with the Winchester brothers!

#supernatural #supernatural oc #supernatural one shot #supernatural headcanon #supernatural x reader #spn fanfiction #spnfandom #spn rp #spn oc #spn #Oc gallery #oc moodboard #Oc name; Edith Miller #spotify #julie #alternative rock #alternative moodboard #Winchester brothers x little sister! Reader

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thestoriesfold · 2 months ago

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Gang, all these multi chapter fics have like 4.k word counts and I’m over here with 6.k and STILL GOING! I hope yall like long ones cause dayum. I have no self control.

Masterlist Plug 😽

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psychopompp13 · 3 months ago

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-Michael Dickman, “Killing Flies”

( oc posting worms got to me 😧 )

#this is a mild test to see if there is an audience for this :)#winchester sister #winchester oc #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #original character #psychopomp13 #ao3 #um. anyway #the second picture is soulless sam btw

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waywardbabysis · 10 months ago

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Look out, here comes double trouble!!😏😎😎🖤

We had a buddy of ours ride over with his 68 Impala so I snapped some pictures of Tessa and his baby.

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retromotherfuckers · 8 months ago

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If You Win Or Lose

Characters:

morgan winchester (OC), john winchester, sam and dean are only mentioned, will mciver (OC)

Summary:

after the death of the boy she loves, morgan runs away. but nothing lasts forever.

Warnings:

SPN typical alcohol abuse & violence, themes of mental illness, parental abuse, MAJOR gaslighting, character death. please let me know if i missed anything

Word Total:

2,425

A/N:

you don't need to read When The Sun Sets to understand this. this is a one shot within that universe, but it predates that series, and also the show itself

it is of my humble opinion that john was an abuser, even if the show refused to acknowledge that. this is essentially an insight into his and morgan's relationship

so yeah, this one ain't too happy. i don't think i'm capable of writing happy shit 💀

morgan may have fallen in love w a dude but our girl is not straight

italics are flashbacks or thoughts

dean: 19, morgan: 18, sam: 15

Four fingers of whiskey fill and drain over and over. In the shitty hotel bar, she sat up against the decaying oak wall in a flimsy chair. A hazy world surrounded her, everything moving in slow motion. The few other stragglers had no notion of what was brewing in her mind - the darkness that shrouded her eyes, making colors look muted in the small neighborhood. It seemed no one knew how much she depended on the amber liquid to keep things still.

Morgan had been around people all her life, but she'd never once felt a real kind of companionship with them. She knew her brothers cared because they had to; she knew they tried. She just wished that when they asked if life was okay, they'd somehow know her answer was bullshit. That they'd somehow cut off the lies spilling from her lips and just say that they know.

But Sammy was only fifteen. He wasn't old enough to really be able to tell, and if he could, she was the older sister. What she said was what he believed. And Dean was Dean. Not the best emotional support person.

They never did catch it, and that was the point. As long as she said she was fine, they believe it because that's what they want to hear. They didn't want to know that she hadn't felt like her home was her home in years. Even if that home was the rumble of an engine and cassettes so loud, she couldn't hear herself think.

They didn't know that she had done things only the lowest of the low would even think of just to keep moving. They don't want to know that the only reason she got out of bed was so she could ease the hangover from the night before. They didn't want to know how hard it was to ask when it was her turn for anything better than this and to keep getting ignored. They didn't want to know that her real reason for living was gone but that his dying wish was for her to keep going.

"Just promise me you'll try."

They didn't want to know that sometimes she could hurt so bad that she stopped feeling anything at all. That she knew her heart was still beating, but her lungs had stopped pumping oxygen. That waiting for her eyes to stop feeling so heavy while she watched the world spin was worse than actually being a part of it. And even with all that frigid emptiness, there was a widening hole in her chest where a person used to be. And now that he was gone, the ceiling was about to cave in, and all she had left to hold it up was a little white bag and a bottle.

"Where the hell have you been?" The familiar voice broke her from her thoughts, the same that had been repeating for months, on and off, like a scratched record. She didn't have to look up to see who it was. She knew that voice. It's half of the voices that raised her, but not the one who deserved the credit.

She didn't acknowledge him, stuck staring at her drink. His voice made her shiver, and she was too much of a damn coward to face him. "Around."

"Really?" John said, his tone hardening with her one-word response. "'Cause to me, it looks like you ran away and went missing like a child. For. Two. Months."

She took a large gulp of her drink, almost downing the whole thing in one go. She had rehearsed this conversation countless times, waiting for the flash of civilian life to end and for him to find her. But now that it was happening, she felt like a fishing boat in a storm, tossed around by waves of fear and wrath.

Her father's gaze was oppressive, cold, and unyielding. Green eyes cut into her, making her feel like he was staring right through her. She always felt small around him. He had always known the right words to use to humiliate her.

"Let's go," He ordered, not even sitting down. It was like he knew this wasn't even a discussion to be had. She would obey, and that was the end of it. "The boys are waiting."

"Dad," Morgan began, her voice shaky and horse. "I'm not going back."

She could imagine John's lips curled into a sneer as his eyes bore into her. Daring her to defy him more. "You don't get a choice. You're coming. That's final."

Morgan felt a surge of anger. "Why can't you just let me be? I know what's good for me more than you do."

John stepped closer, his face inches from hers. "You belong with your family, not out here alone when we're not there to protect you. I taught you better than that."

It wasn’t praise. John Winchester wouldn’t know praise if it bit him in the ass. He did teach her better than that, and since she’s deliberately not following orders, she’s less than worthless.

She recoiled slightly, the familiar pang of anxiety twisting in her gut. "This isn't about family, dad, it's about-" She fumbled over her words, unsure if she could say it, but hoping for some surge of courage she hadn't had her whole life. "It's about how you can't stand that I'm walking around without you making my own decisions. You just wanna control me-"

John's hand lashed out, slapping the counter beside her, making her visibly flinch and effectively cutting her off. "After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me? I don't need to control you; you need me to do it. To keep you alive," he sneered. "And the running away from your shit and pretending we don't exist just proves it."

Morgan's eyes welled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. "Everything you've done," Her voice shook as she spoke. "You've done for yourself and your twisted little fantasy of finding the thing that killed Mom."

He grabbed her wrist, his grip like a vise. "Oh, yeah? And what do you think you can do to stop me?" She yanked her arm free, the skin already bruising. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of doubt. But then his expression hardened, and he took a step closer, his shadow enveloping her. "You're making a big mistake, Morgan. You'll regret this."

She took a deep breath, her resolve wavering. The sooner she got away, the better. "The only mistake I made was not getting out earlier."

As she turned to leave, John's hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder and keeping her still. His voice was low and twisted with fury. The deep growl and the warmth of his breath in her ear made chills run up her spine.

"You think you can just walk away from me?"

Morgan's heart sank into her stomach. It wasn't a threat, but she could feel one coming. Her strength was slipping away, the familiar terror clawing at her mind. She'd never be able to hide from him for too long. Just look at her now, it had only been two months.

She was smart. But John was smarter.

"You're coming home, whether you like it or not." He took her stunned stillness as his queue to spin her around, forcing her chin up to look at him. She'd probably have marks on her jaw from how tight he was holding her. "You're really gonna leave us to fend for ourselves? You're so damn selfish-"

"I haven't been selfish a day in my fucking life-"

Her father scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Well, by your logic, you're picking the wrong time to start." He got closer if it was even possible, and he looked at her like she was the dirt he loved to walk over. "Will's dead, Mo, and it's your fault. I told you not to go on that hunt alone, but what did you fucking do? You ignored me, like always. When are you gonna learn that you need me? Boy-Toy's not coming back, you saw to that. Stop wasting everyone's time and get over it."

Boy-Toy. That's all John saw him as now. Even though he liked to call Will's parents the closest people he had to friends besides Uncle Bobby.

Will had been with them for a year and a half when his parents died. They were helping him look for his aunt, the only family he had left. Only problem was they only knew her first name and that she was his mother's sister. So Will, Morgan and Sam searched for his aunt, while John and Dean searched for the demon.

For a while, things were okay. John was slightly more neutral when Will was around, starting fewer arguments and hitting them less. But when he walked in on them hooking up, Dean had to haul her father off of the boy. And then off of Morgan, too.

Two months ago, Morgan was desperate to prove herself to her father. Dean had already completed three solo hunts as a trial run. John wanted to see what he was capable of. Dean surpassed his expectations, as he always did. A rougarou, two vengeful spirits and a vampire taken care of in three weeks.

Will hadn't wanted to go on that hunt without help, but Morgan was frantic. She had to show her father what she was made of, but when Will discovered her plans, he was not going to let her do it alone.

The air is thick with tension, each step bringing them closer to the lair of the wendigo they've been tracking for days. The forest is dense, moonlight barely piercing the thick canopy above. The silence of the night is broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

"Are you sure about this?" Will whispers, his voice barely audible.

Morgan turns to him, her blue eyes fierce and determined. "Yeah! We can do this, I swear."

They press on, the beam of their flashlights cutting through the darkness. Suddenly, a chilling growl echoes through the trees. Their hearts start racing as they tighten their grip on their chosen weapons. They're close.

The wendigo lunges out of the shadows, its eyes glowing with a malevolent type of starvation. Will fires his shotgun, but the creature is too fast. It knocks him to the ground, claws slashing through his shirt.

"Will!" Morgan screams, rushing to him. He struggles beneath the wendigo's weight, blood pooling from his wounds.

"Go!" He shouts, but his words are so garbled she hears her name, like a plea. "It's too strong!"

And Morgan can't leave him; he knows she would never. She swings her machete with all her strength, striking the creature's back. It howls in pain, momentarily distracted. Will uses the opportunity to push it off him, but the wendigo retaliates with a vicious swipe, its claws sinking deep into his chest.

"No!" Morgan drops to her knees beside Will as the wendigo retreats into the shadows. "No, no-"

Will's breathing is ragged, and he squeezes his eyes shut in distress. "Mo... I'm sorry..."

"Don't talk like that," she says, tears already streaming down her face. "You're gonna be okay, you'll be fine. We'll get you back to Dean. He'll know what to do."

Will reaches up, his hand trembling as he gently touches her cheek. His eyes are wet, too, but he quickly tries to hide the pain he's in. He graces her with a smile, but it's gone as fast as it appears.

"Remember when Dean was giving me shit for how long my hair is?" He waits for her to nod. It doesn't take her so long to react because she doesn't remember. She takes a few extra seconds because she can't figure out why he's bringing that up right now. "You shut him up so fast," he says with a strained laugh. "You definitely liked me first."

Morgan chuckles through her tears, but the light memory doesn't last too long in her mind.

He's dying he's dying he's dying

"But I love you, Mo...please...remember that."

"Stop it. You don't get to say that as a goodbye," she demanded, but her voice didn't have the force to make it believable. "You're not allowed to tell me you love me and then die. It's not fair."

"I'll be okay," he rasps. "Just promise me you'll try. Promise me…" His voice fades from there. He has more he wants to say, Morgan can tell, but he used up all his strength.

"Will, please," She begs, her words cracking. "Don't-"

But Will's eyes flutter closed, his hand falls lifelessly to the ground, and Morgan screams.

She doesn't have it in her to set up a pyre. Will doesn't want that. He says it feels barbaric to him. He came from a hunting family and knew it was to prevent the possibility of becoming was a vengeful spirit, but he’s never wavered. He wants a real burial, like normal people have. He wants his family and friends there; they don't have to say anything, just be there.

"It just doesn't feel right, you know? We should be returned to the earth and all that crap. It's more…I don't know, peaceful."

Hours later, as dawn breaks, she buries him under an oak tree. She stands alone - yet another way she's letting him down. Her heart and mind are in tatters, her tears mingle with the soot. She can't face her family, not after what just happened. She can't bear her father’s inevitable punishment. Or her brothers’ pity. Or the possibility that they hate her for letting their friend die.

With one last look at the makeshift grave, Morgan turns and walks away, the shadows of the forest swallowing her whole. She doesn't know where she's going, only that she has to keep moving.

She looked into her father's eyes and saw the unyielding force of his will. In that moment, she knew she had lost.

Defeated, she lowered her gaze, closed her eyes and barely whispered, "Okay."

John's grip loosened slightly, a triumphant smile creeping across his face. Harder than necessary, he slapped her shoulder in appreciation. "Good girl. Now pack your shit. We're leaving in a half hour."

As Morgan turned towards the exit, she felt the weight of his victory settle over her like a cloak. The life she thought she might have wanted crumbled away, leaving only the cold, harsh reality of her father's world. She walked slowly, each step feeling like a surrender, her heart heavy with the knowledge that, for now, he had won.

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scornedserendipity · 8 months ago

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5. Hospital Talks (Wincehsters x Younger Sibling)

hi, wors count is just under 3000. the tiblr webpage is so slow for me so these authors notes might be bad. but enjoy to the roughly six people who read. let me know what u think pls (also i couldnt find a good gif)

“How are you feeling June Bug?” Sam asked as he and his brother entered the room.

“Yeah, how is your neck?” Dean asked, placing a bag of takeout on the side table and pulling up a chair next to his sister. Sam took a seat on the edge of the bed on the other side.

“I’m okay. Just sore. It burns when I get too warm but I guess that’s what burns do.” She said with a sorry face.

“Good, Sammy and I are going to do some investigating while you are under observation.”

“I thought it was just overnight?” She asked looking back and forth between her brothers and they gave each other a look.

“Well, we talked to the doctors, they don’t think it’s safe to let you leave just yet. They are worried that the damage to your lungs will affect the oxygen going to your brain for a while, so they want to keep you for a few more nights.” Sam explained looking at his sister with a sad look. “We know you aren’t happy, but we have to make sure you are okay.”

Jamie sighed and laid back. “You guys are going to look for the thing that killed Jess while I’m here.”

Dean looked at his brother and then back to his sister. “Yeah, Jess died the same way our Mom did…June Bug. We have to.” Dean explained.

“I understand. I need a favor if I’m going to be in here for a week. You will need someone to help with research. Two and a half brains are better than one and a half.” Jamie joked.

Sam scoffed and Dean chuckled.

“Anything Jamie,” Sam said with a smile.

“In my bag in the trunk, there is a toy safe. Can you bring me that?” Jamie asked. She knew her brothers would laugh about her keeping a toy at her age but they didn’t know what it contained.

“Right, I’ll get it. Be right back.” Dean said. patting his knees and getting up.

“Thanks,” Jamie called as her brother left her line of sight.

“Where are you guys going to start looking?” Jamie asked.

“We are gonna start at the apartment and check any camera footage from after we left,” Sam answered with sorrow in his voice.

“Are you going to be okay Sammy?”

“Yeah June Bug, I will be okay. Don’t worry about me.” He said, placing a hand on her blanketed foot. Dean returned a few moments later, shaking the box. It clanged as he did and sounded very full.

“What’s even in there Jamie?” Dean said, tossing it onto the bed. Jamie chuckled and entered the code she had set for it years ago.

“Well, I’ve saved up some of it over the years but most of it was from this last two years worth of savings. From working, odd jobs, bussing streets, and pickpocketing the nice neighborhoods.” She shrugged as the safe popped open. Wads and rolls of cash flooded out.

“Damn. No more need for credit card scams!” Dean sighed. he sat down, grabbed the box, and started counting. “How much is even in here?” Dean asked.

“Uh as of my last check, it will be almost 31,000 dollars,” Jamie said. Reaching over and grabbing the box back. She grabbed one of the many rolls and counted out a couple of bills. “I want a laptop!” Sam was shocked. He had no idea his sister had amassed so much money in just four years.

“How did you even have time to make all this?” Sam asked as he lifted some of the bills and let them fall.

“Well, it started when we were kids. When I was alone while you guys were gone, I’d sit at the corner of the motels with some cardboard that said “need money for food.” or something with a cup and people would drop change or a couple of bucks in. As a kid of course I spent it but eventually, I learned how to pickpocket pretty easily and I’d get people after school, sneak it into Dad’s coat. then I started taking cleaning jobs or temp spots if we stayed long enough, and then I discovered I could play piano so if there was a public piano I’d play and sing, then I got old enough to get a job when you left for college so I did and saved every check I got. I worked at the grocery store, for a year, and did odd jobs and favors too. Mostly scamming failing underclassmen for their allowance. I contemplated a car but I realized I could just fix one up of Bobby’s, he’d give it to me for cheap.”

Jamie explained as she organized the bills.

“I know you worked, but I didn’t know you were working for so long. Why didn’t you tell us?” Dean asked. Sam was still stunned but shared the same sentiments.

“Yeah, I mean we were together almost 24/7, when did you even learn about begging on the streets?” Sam asked. The more he learned about his sister the less he liked. He knew that Dean did his best.

“Well, Dad was drinking all the time, Dean started drinking, Sam started hunting with you guys. I figured it would get spent before I could even save it so I hid it in this safe. Bought it myself in Omaha when I was nine.”

Sam and Dean shared a look. They didn’t know a lot about their little sister. They didn’t know she could play instruments.

“You play instruments? How, you-you touched a piano one day and you could play?” Sam asked, waving his hands around.

“Well, I read the books, it was only to test it out in theory but I got the hang of it after a couple hours, at the music store in…” She thought for a moment as if trying to bring the memory back to the forefront of her mind. “uh, the uh the vampire in Tennessee.” She snapped.

“Wow. We had no idea…” Dean said, putting some of the bills back. He thought back to all the times he had seen her messing with that Safe. He had tried to crack it open through the years but he could never figure out the code and he knew how mad Jamie would have been as a kid if she knew they had tried to tamper with it.

“I can’t even count how many times I tried to see what you had hidden in there. What code did you set?” Dean said with a small chuckle.

“Take a wild guess.” Jamie chuckled. She knew her brothers would never get it. They overcomplicated things too much.

“Twenty-four, two, eight,” Sam said looking at the four-digit code entered on the lock.

“No fair, you cheated, Sammy.”

“Our birth dates?” Sam said. Looking up at his brother.

She closed the safe and knocked on it twice. Her good lucky tradition to be able to add more money to it. She could feel the tension building up between her siblings.

“I know how much it would have helped growing up, but the only reason I started saving was so I could buy us all a house one day. Don’t be mad.” She said.

Dean counted the money his sister had handed him. Remembering all the times they only had a couple cans of soup and crackers in the cabinets. He couldn’t blame her. She was smarter than he ever was at that age.

“Don’t feel bad, Jamie. You did what you thought was right. I’m proud of you for saving up so much money for so long. It’s not easy.” Sam interjected. Jamie nodded and sighed.

“Are you mad D?” She asked. She did her best to keep herself calm, she knew the heart monitor would betray her if she didn’t. Dean never liked secrets between them.

“No, I’m not. Just a little surprised. We’ll go get your laptop. Beers on you.” Dean said, rubbing his sister’s hair and smirking.

“Wait, so all those times you randomly pulled out a twenty and said you found it?” Sam asked. Jamie nodded with a small smile. Sam scoffed and his confused expression shifted into a mixture of proud and slightly disturbed, mostly at the fact she was so young.

“Okay, be back soon. Make sure you get some headphones and a couple of USB sticks.” She said as her brothers left. Sam nodded and Dean threw back a thumbs up. She sighed and stared at her safe.

She felt bad. They were dirt poor growing up and more often than not, she knew Dean would go hungry for them. When she did try to give them some money, it never seemed to last long. So her next course of action was the save it.

She was sitting on the curb, holding a cardboard sign. She had rubbed dirt onto her face and wore her dirty laundry. she put her hair up into a bun and brushed it to look messy. As a nine-year-old, these were extreme measures to take to make a little bit of cash but she knew she would need it. She would sit outside and say thank you anytime someone dropped something into her cup. When she heard the Impala coming easy enough to tell by her Dad’s music taste. She would run back in and hop in the shower after stashing her earnings.

The boys never suspected anything and her Dad was too drunk to care, they made it pretty easy to keep secrets. To stay under the radar.

Jamie thought about her childhood as she waited for her brothers to return. One of the nurses brought her food, they checked her vitals. She questioned them on whether she had to stay or not and they could only give her the facts.

She took a lot of damage. If she left now there was a chance her lungs could be permanently damaged. She took defeat and waited. It felt like forever. She couldn’t believe she was going to be stuck here for another three days. Jamie laid back and relaxed. Sitting up was starting to be more work than anything else. She ate her lunch of chicken soup and apple slices with an off-brand soda. It was okay, nothing to write home about.

Sam and Dean returned with a laptop and some snacks.

“How much was it?” Jamie asked as she opened the box. She handed Sam the cord and he plugged it in for her.

“899.” He answered as he huffed getting back up. Dean still looked a little sour but he did his best to hide it.

“We also got you some chips, sodas, and that little USB thing you wanted,” he said, placing the bag on the bed. “Well, we need to get checked into another motel, we are burning daylight,” Dean said looking at his brother.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you guys later.” She said, not taking her eyes off the laptop. Sam and Dean looked at each other. They almost wanted to ask if they could stay, to make sure nothing happened but she was 18 soon, so it wouldn’t be a big deal.

“Do you want us to take anything for you?’ Dean asked.

“uh, no, my stuff should be okay here,” Jamie responded, already typing away on the new laptop.

“Okay, we‘ll see you later Jamie,” Sam said, giving her a quick kiss on the head and walking out, his brother following.

“Dude, just spit it out,” Sam said with an exasperated expression. He knew the fact Jamie kept all that money a secret was bothering him. Sam knew she worked and pickpocketed people, but he didn’t know the extent of her wealth. “You’re upset Jamie didn’t tell us about her stash?” Sam asked.

“What? No? Why would I be upset that she started doing well for herself as a kid? I mean, I’m more upset that she felt like she couldn’t tell me because I was drinking.” He said in a defeated tone. He always thought she knew that he could tell him anything.

“I mean, it makes sense, growing up with Dad’s bad habits. Maybe once you started to act more like Dad, her little kid mind started distancing herself.” Sam shrugged. He wasn’t bothered by it. He knew how hard it was to get an inch as a kid, that fact she got a foot was a miracle.

“I mean yeah, but you know how much better off we could have been if she told us what she was doing?” Dean said as they left the hospital.

“Well, yeah but it’s not like she had all that back then. She worked hard for it, don’t you think it would be kinda wrong to take a kid’s hard-earned money? Plus, you heard her. Any big bills she got she tried to give to Dad. What he did with it I have no idea but- she did her best Dean. She felt like she had to do something and she did and how could you even ask that of a nine-year-old?”

The brothers got into the impala, taking a second to think about what they were going to say.

“We can’t blame her for it.” Sam finished as he watched his brother. “We both had our moments as kids. I just wish I knew she could play piano.” Sam defended.

“Do you think she wanted out of this life like you?” Dean asked.

“I wish she did, Dean. I do, more than anything.” Sam said somberly. “When we would talk on the phone, she would talk about all the lore she was reading and how much knew already knew. How she wanted us to go on a hunt together someday. Dean, hunting IS her life. Probably more than me, you, hell maybe even Dad. She has always been smart, even as a kid, she is emotionally intelligent, she can stand up for herself and handle her hunts. I mean look at her, she has always been a trooper.”

Dean turned the Impala. Taking another look back at the hospital

“When she gets out she’s buying the beer.” He muttered and drove off. “Where is the nearest laptop store?”

“Uh, we’d have to go to the mall.” Sam answered. “There is a store there. Head straight for two miles, take a left.”

“Alright.” Dean said, putting the car in drive and heading off. he still couldn’t beilve there was such a big dent in his car and he would have to wait till they got back to Bobby’s to fix it. There were so many things happening now that he and his siblings we’re back together.

He thought about what Sam said, about Jamie. He thought about what jamie said about well..Jamie and them. He wouldn’t even be able to describe what he was feeling. He did his best to bring them both up, maybe he did better with Sam than he did Jamie, maybe Jamie was the ‘better’ sibling. There was no way to tell.

Dean knew why Jamie was smarter though. He thought Sam would acknowledge it as well, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. Jamie had inherited some part of Frida’s metnal abilities. Whatever it was, their brains were just bigger, faster. All throughout Jamie’s childhood she picked things up easily, she never needed help when she started school. She handled herself like a mini adult almost from the get go.

Dean knew that was a terrible way to think of his little sister’s upbrining. He did his best to give her a normal childhood, but he wasn’t enough of a fool to ignore the obvious.

Frida was an incredibly powerful person. She could use her mind, to read intentions, and do cool party tricks, but after that night in the house, Dean didn’t beilive it was party tricks anymore.

That night, in Texas, a long drive from Arizona. They had been staying in a motel in Yuma when their Dad had gotten a call. He rushed the boys out and into the car without explanation. When they got there it was eerily silent for an emergency. Dad had ordered Sam to stay with the baby while the two of them searched the house. They didn’t have to do much searching after they entered the upstairs. It was a blood bath, six men, were brutally killed. He couldn’t let that happen to Jamie.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #oc #winchesters x sibling #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister #jared padalecki

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winniewritesstories · 3 months ago

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Meg Winchester | Character Lore

This is just a collection of interesting info and miscellaneous head canons about Meg and her life that I am calling Character Lore (so get this...). Hopefully you can get to know her better! I will be adding to this and changing it as the series develops.

Dean's nickname for Meg is Goose, a Top Gun reference - she is the Goose to his Maverick, his sidekick & wingman.

Sam's nickname for Meg is Scout, as in Scout Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. Sam read the book in high school when Meg was young (around 2), and Scout reminded him of his sister - funny, defiant, always following after an older brother in dungarees.

Meg often calls Dean "Dean-o", a nickname he'd hate from anyone else. He also gets called Maverick. Meanwhile, Sam is often referred to as Sasquatch or Atticus (another To Kill A Mockingbird reference), and later she adopts Crowley's nickname of Moose.

Meg was born on a meteor shower, in August 1997. Almost every year, the Winchester's spend her birthday at Bobby's, where they stay up late to watch the shooting stars and make wishes.

Meg is very book smart. She grew up on the road with not much to do besides read & learn. As she grows older she becomes a perfectionist, and her attitude to school & studying becomes almost toxic.

She doesn't want to be a hunter and go into the family business (much to her brothers relief). She has seen what is has cost her father & brothers, and indeed herself, and wants something more for herself.

Sam is very proud of how clever Meg is and how well she does at school. He is, however, a little jealous when her SAT scores are better than his.

Meg has complicated feelings around her father and his death. He was not very involved in her life - she was raised primarily by Dean - and was only 8 when he died. She doesn't feel like she's 'missing' much after he dies, as everything a father was/is supposed to do, Dean does.

Dean & Meg's relationship is similar to Jesse & Michelle from Full House.

Sam reads Meg a bed time story every night (before Stanford). When he returns, he reads her The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, etc., doing different voices for each character. Only Dean is allowed to do the voice of Smaug.

As a kid who spent her entire childhood with Dean, she is very similar to him in many ways and spends her formative years following him around and imitating him. As she grows up, she finds herself becoming a perfect mix of both her brothers, which she - and they - love.

When Meg was about 2 and her hair was getting longer, the boys decided they needed to be able to braid it. Sam practiced on Meg when she would sit still (which wasn't very often), and Dean practiced on Sam.

Although Dean would always follow John's orders, he did occasionally talk back to or even refuse John if it wasn't the best thing for Meg. When John suggested she learn to shoot at age 7, Dean flat out refused. John never brought it up again.

She rarely talks about or asks after her mother, who abandoned her on a motel doorstep when she was a baby. As far as Meg is concerned, her mother never wanted her, so why should she want her mother?

When Sam dies in All Hell Breaks Lose, Meg isn't there. But the sight of her dead brother, and the empty look in Dean's eyes cause her nightmares for weeks. When Sam is brought back, she becomes exceptionally clingy for a while.

Sam and Dean both cry at her high school graduation (and later her college graduation too).

Dean tries to give Meg the childhood he never had and could never give Sam. She's never hungry, she isn't trained like a soldier, he spoils her when he can with toys, books, etc. from thrift shops. One year he even hustled enough money to take her to Disney World (she cried with excitement, ate too much Mickey Mouse shaped food, and threw up. It was the best day ever.)

Meg is homeschooled for the most part, but sometimes enrols in Sioux Falls if they are with Bobby for extended periods. Sam doesn't want her to feel like an outsider or a freak as he often did growing up & changing schools frequently, so while she is young and the boys can still teach her, they do. As she gets older and hits middle/high school, they look at schools and getting her enrolled somewhere full time, which is easiest when they are settled (such as the time with Lisa/Amelia, when they find the Bunker, etc.)

In the car crash at the end of Season 1, Meg badly breaks her right leg. It eventually heals, but the knee causes her issues for the rest of her life.

She becomes very close with Ellen & Jo, Charlie, Jody, Donna, etc., as she didn't have many female figures in her life growing up. She isn't as close with/fond of Lisa and Amelia, as she felt that her brothers should have been looking for one another during their time with their respective girlfriends, rather than trying to live a normal, apple pie life.

When she was little and would play games with other kids (at school, playgrounds, etc.), other kids would suggest they play 'Mommies & Daddies', but Meg would always request to play 'Dean's and Daddies, or 'Dean's and Sammy's'.

As they get older, more and more people would mistake Dean & Meg for father and daughter. Neither minded, and they rarely corrected the assumption.

At first, Meg dislikes Ben, Claire, Krissy, etc., as she feels threatened by them & how much her brother's (especially Dean) care for them. Meg has always felt insecure in her place in the family, and seeing her brother's interact with and care for other kids makes her uneasy. This is most apparent with Ben in the year they live together. However, she usually warms up to them after some time and reassurance from her brothers.

Sam tries to get Meg into running. She (reluctantly) agrees to go once and doesn't hate it (but don't tell Sam that). She doesn't go all the time, but if she's stressed or worried, running with Sam helps her take her mind off it for a while.

When Mary is brought back, neither women know how to act with one another. Mary is uncomfortable with Meg's presence (existence) at first, and Meg is scared she will be replaced or kicked out. Meg tries to leave for a while to make things easier on Mary, but neither Sam nor Dean will let her. Eventually, they work things out, and Mary and Meg become friends.

Meg is similar to Dean on the dating front. She is bisexual, and her and Dean often argue over who gets to hit on waitresses.

When Bobby died, none of the Winchester's knew how to cope. Meg would lash out at her brothers, throwing teenage tantrums. Dean was confused at first, until Sam pointed out Dean responds in a similar way. Then they sat and tried to work through their feelings together (it got a bit messy).

During 1x12, when Dean was dying, Meg snuck Sam's phone away from him and called their Dad. He didn't pick up, but she left him a message, begging him to come help Dean. He never showed.

Bobby loved all the Winchesters, but he had a real soft spot for Meg. She had her own room in his house which he painted pink (and then yellow, when she decided she grew out of pink) and where she kept her toys. He taught her about fixing cars, lore, and began teaching her Latin and Greek at her request.

Sam and Meg going on library trips and reading 'dates' together. They sit and read, or talk about their books in their mini book club. It's a nice way for them both to unwind and spend some quality time together. As their circle expands, it grows to include Charlie, then Jack, Alex and Patience, but Sam and Meg always make sure they take time for just the two of them.

When the Winchesters moved into the Bunker, Meg - like Dean - loved having and decorating her own room. Dean took her to a hardware store for supplies so she could put up shelves, hang pictures, etc. Meg wanted to turn her closet into wall-to-wall bookshelves, but instead Dean cleared out one of the many bedrooms for Meg to turn into her own personal, mini library (no lore books allowed).

Meg is an emotional reader. Often the boys find her crying and immediately panic, but she just gestures at her book. Dean rolls his eyes and leaves, but Sam will sit with her and let her talk about the book, comforting her over the deaths of fictional characters.

Like Sam, Meg has a big heart and likes to believe the best of people. She often bumps heads with Dean because of this.

For her 16th birthday, Dean fixes one of the many cars in the Bunker's garage, a red 1950 Ford Mustang. Whereas Dean nicknamed his car 'Baby', Meg calls hers the 'Pussy Wagon'. It’s an accurate description.

On cases, when victims or witnesses ask Dean if he has kids, he always says yes.

Meg is the only other person (occasionally) who can play music in Dean's car (Sam finds this infuriating). While they generally have similar taste (Zeppelin rules), she often likes to play ABBA or Elton John, mostly just to mess with Dean. She likes modern music too, including Hozier, Florence & the Machine, and Taylor Swift. She's convinced Dean is a secret Swiftie.

Sam and Meg love watching Harry Potter, the Lord of the Rings/Hobbit, and other similar films together (Sam insists she reads all the books before watching the films). Every year around fall and Christmas they binge all the films.

The boys always want Meg to have a normal life (as normal as possible). Sam and Dean have to encourage Meg to go and socialise with people her own age, to the point where Dean straight up tells her to sneak out to a party. She does, but doesn't drink much, and instead hustles the other kids at beer pong & makes $150. Dean's never been prouder.

When it comes to college, Dean, and especially Sam, make the experience as different from Sam's as possible. Sam helps Meg with her applications, they all read the acceptance letter's together and celebrate when she gets accepted to her first choice. They help her pack her things, load them into Baby, and make a 25 hour drive to campus. Sam cries, both at leaving Meg, and for himself and the college experience he never had.

In one of the Bunker's many rooms, Meg finds a dusty old piano. By some miracle, it's still tuned, so she begins teaching herself. It becomes one of her school extracurriculars, and Sam & Dean attend every recital she performs in (Dean sheds a tear at the first one, but if you ever ask him about it, he'll deny it. Or punch you).

Meg and Jack become best friends, fast. She's never really had anyone she can talk to about everything. Even when Dean doesn't trust him, Meg does. They watch TV together, she shows him Vines and memes, and Meg teaches Jack everything there is to know about the world, about being human.

Growing up in a series of crap motels sometimes meant no working heaters and cracked windows. On cold nights, Sam and Dean would squish into bed either side of Meg, creating the 'Meg Sandwich'. She still convinces her brothers to do it on cold nights or when she's feeling sad.

All three Winchester's are quick to correct anyone who refers to Meg as the boys' 'half sister'. She's their sister, through and through - family ain't about blood, after all.

Meg struggles with depression, anxiety, and PTSD - as you'd expect from someone who grew up the way she did. She gets separation anxiety after her brothers come back from the dead (after Sam died in Season 2, Dean in Seasons 4 and 8) and hates being apart from them. She often gets panic attacks or gets stuck in her own head, and the boys (especially Dean) work hard to equip themselves with the knowledge and tools they need to help her. They develop the 'Code Black', which means Meg is in a bad place and they need to drop everything and go to her.

Meg meets one of her best friends when she is 16. It is a schoolmate of hers whose house is haunted. She convinces her friend, Lucy, to let her brother's investigate, and they get rid of the ghost. Having a friend who knows about the supernatural makes things easier.

To be continued..... (probably)

#winniewrites #supernatural #spn sister #dean winchester x little sister #sam winchester x little sister #the misadventures of meg winchester #supernatural oc #spn fic #dean winchester #sam winchester

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