#tfw you wake up early against your will. and someone else did too

[razzle-zazzle]

1628 Words; @brain-bumbler's Dormmates AU

AO3 ver

Norma came into awareness slowly, the world melting into place around her. Sweat-slicked hair clung to her forehead, her cheek smushed into the pillow. Her throat felt raw. Her whole body felt damp, sticky with sweat, her sheets impossibly heavy atop her. Her neck ached.

Norma blinked, bleary eyes struggling to focus on the darkness before her. For a moment, she was under the impression that she needed to get up right now and get ready for the day, before she was late. But her bed was so comfy, and her eyelids so heavy—

Ugh, it was wayyyy too hot. With a groan, Norma kicked at her sheets, wiggling until her legs were free. Her neck ached, like she’d been sleeping weird.

But she needed to get up, now, before she was late. She had classes. The clock read 3:42, she needed to get up—

Wait.

It was Saturday. She didn’t have classes today.

Norma rolled over as some of the fog in her head cleared. She didn’t need to get up until eight. Her eyes started to sting in the way they always did when she woke up way too early, her throat ached, there was a drool spot on her pillow—

Oh, god, no.

Please, she thought, her mouth and throat dry as sandpaper. I just want to sleep.

But sleep wasn’t going to come, was it? She closed her mouth, attempted to swallow—

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe, because her mouth was shut and her nose was blocked. Because her sinuses refused to let her have a moment’s peace, and now here she was, her throat dry and aching because she’d been breathing dry air in through her mouth all night. Ugh. Of all the awful things to wake her up before she needed to.

Norma turned back over. The clock read 3:46. The number taunted her, the soft green glow seeming to laugh at her misfortune.

Slowly, Norma sat up. Maybe her sinuses would drain long enough for her to fall back asleep in a reasonable amount of time. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and her fingers to the bridge of her nose. The trick didn’t always work, but at this ungodly hour Norma felt that the universe owed it to her.

Norma closed her mouth, and tried to breathe through her nose. She didn’t want to have to blow it—sure, her dormmate was Sam, who could sleep through bagpipes, and there were tissues on her nightstand, but still. It left her feeling gross, and Norma wasn’t that desperate.

She opened her mouth with a gasp. Okay, so maybe she was that desperate.

3:57. Norma blinked at the clock, tissue in hand. Her head and eyes hurt from being awake so early. She fumbled for the wastebasket.

Ugh, this wasn’t working. Breathing through her mouth was awful. Norma laid back down. Maybe it’d help if she shifted the way her head was resting.

She stayed like that as the clock ticked on. Tossing, turning, her frustration mounting. 4:15. 4:23. She had to kick off her sheets entirely, sticky with sweat. 4:27. 4:32. 4:36. 4:38.

Norma rolled over. She just wanted to sleep. She couldn’t breathe through her nose. Her mouth was so dry.

4:47.

4:54.

4:58.

5:01.

Oh, for the sake of—

Norma rolled out of bed with all the grace of a drunken moose, fumbling on the nightstand for her glasses. She stumbled towards her closet, lighting a small flame on her fingertips to give her light to see by.

Benadryl, cold medicine, painkillers, bandaids—there! Decongestant. In the light of the flickering little flame, she popped the bottle open, and shook two of the pills into her hand. With the way her sinuses felt, she was glad she still had some left.

She needed water. There were sinks in the bathroom, but no cups. Kitchen it was.

Flame in hand, Norma trudged out of her dorm, through the small hall to the common area. She rounded the corner, her focus locked on the little kitchenette where she’d find a sink and a cup—

The light was already on. Someone was quietly humming.

So apparently Norma wasn’t the only person up at this ungodly hour. Norma knew that Morris woke up fairly early to give himself time to build up his pompadour, but even then, she had always gotten up before him. She’d alway been the earliest riser in the dorms, able to calmly enjoy her breakfast while everyone else was either still in bed, just rolling out, or busy in the bathroom using all the hair product.

At least, she had been the earliest riser. But ever since this intrusion to their space, that title often ended up going to one Dionysus Aquato.

And there he was now, standing before the stove, scrambling eggs at five in the morning in circus tights.

Silence filled the space between them. Norma blinked blearily, her eyes adjusting slowly to the light. Dion stared back at her, his face blank with surprise. His hair was down, brown curls held out of his eyes by a pair of hair clips.

They stood there, the silence broken only by the faint hiss of frying eggs. Just the two of them, staring at each other.

Norma—and she wasn’t entirely sure what she intended to say, if anything—opened her mouth a little further, her voice starting to come out in a strangled croak—

Dion turned back to the stove, and his quiet humming resumed.

Whatever. Norma was in no mood for conversation, nor did she care to pry into whatever nonsense was going through his head. She went to the sink, telekinetically grabbing a cup from the cupboard.

She felt a reflexive spike of anxiety-distrust from Dion at the soft glow of her telekinetic hand, and ignored it. There was a reason she never tried to pry into his head—Dion’s brain was just as obnoxious as he was. Norma supposed it was fitting, that the guy who muttered under his breath had thoughts that never shut up, but that didn’t mean she didn’t dislike it.

With a grumble, Norma swallowed the decongestant, chugging the rest of the water to get the taste out of her mouth. After refilling her cup halfway and finishing that off, she reached for the dish soap and a rag.

Behind her, Dion took the pan off the heat, turning off the stove. His humming had turned to quiet muttering, small phrases popping out at Norma as she tried not to listen. She was too tired for eavesdropping, and she had long since learned that the acrobat never said anything worth listening to, either.

But her brain kept latching onto the sound; kept latching onto the words and trying to decipher them all. Norma set the cup on the drying rack and rubbed her temples. That decongestant was not kicking in fast enough. Breathing through her mouth was awful. Being awake at this hour was awful. And that obnoxious muttering was awful—

She whirled around, “Can you stop?” Ugh, even her voice sounded awful.

Dion’s muttering ground to a halt as he scraped his eggs onto a plate. “Stop what?” He asked, eyes narrowed.

Norma gestured at him. “Your mumbling.” She glared at him, “It’s so grating.”

“Sorry if I’m annoying you, princess.” He spat, not sounding sorry at all. “Why are you even out here, anyway?” He sat down at the table, his plate in front of him. “You don’t have classes today.”

Norma didn’t even want to dignify that with a response. But she had never been able to leave a conversation without the last word, so she pulled out a chair of her own, sat down, and responded, “Because I needed water.” The obviously, you fool went unspoken.

The soft clink of fork against plate was Norma’s only response, then—

“Why are you still here?” Dion asked around a bite of eggs. “You already had your water.” He pointed out.

Norma raised her eyebrows, completely intent on not saying anything—

“I couldn’t sleep.” She admitted. “But I bet you know all about that.” It wasn’t a wild guess, given the facts laid out before her.

Dion huffed, his eyes falling down to the plate before him.

Norma smirked. She was starting to feel more awake now, but her throat and eyes still burned from waking up so early. Maybe she should go back to sleep…

Some part of her balked at the idea, for no good reason. But Norma still continued to sit there while Dion ate his eggs, ignoring the siren call of her unlit dorm and warm bed. Not because she was interested in hanging around this loser, of course. She was only here because she wanted to be, obviously, completely independent of any other factors.

(Because going back to her room just because Dion was out here felt like admitting defeat.)

They sat there in silence, the only sound the soft clink of fork against plate.

Whatever. Norma didn’t feel like talking anymore, anyway. Not until her sinuses cleared, and not to Dion. That he had seen her in her nightgown was vulnerability enough, she felt. Just because the guy was rooming with her and the other junior agents didn’t mean she owed him anything.

Norma glanced at Dion’s plate. It looked like he had mixed cheese and herbs into his eggs—not that she wanted any. He’d only made enough for himself, and Norma wasn’t in the mood to eat right now.

Her sinuses were clearing up, finally. She could go back to bed. Maybe even make herself a cup of hot chocolate.

She continued to sit in silence at the table.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x20: Carry On

Warning: Boris is a salty, sad fangirl right now so the first part of this recap might be more bitter, reductive venting than is necessary. Please skip ahead to enjoy Natasha’s far more nuanced and enjoyable second half of the recap.

The Road So Far: Cue Carry On Wayward Son

Then:

Salmondean Winchester, the boy with the demon blood and daddy’s blunt little instrument, finally defeats Chuck and gets a taste of true free will

Now:

*Fun domestic montage*

Sam Dean gets a dog! (Okay, fine, Miracle is super cute, and a complete stand-in for Cas --but that thought just sends me on another anger spiral.) 

Dean squeezes the shit out of that dog, and I hurt for that touch-starved man. 

Sam goes for a run, so like, I guess his life is the same. (thanks to Dean always protecting him and allowing him some normalcy in life) (I’m bitter, remember?) 

Dean Sam makes breakfast! Dean brushes his teeth! Sam is SHIRTLESS one last time! 

*Shirtless Sammy Alert*

Dean’s room is INEXPLICABLY messy! I do get what this whole montage is doing, and it’s nice, but I’m pretty sure when Becky said the fans like the domestic stuff, it was supposed to include CAS AND OTHER FAMILY. Basically, overlay the Where’s the Angel? gif all over this sequence for me. 

And finally, we find the boys are still hunting. Because freedom is just a length of rope. 

Dean finds a case, but first they have to stop and get pie! Yay! Dean loves pie, and women, and fast cars. Grumpy-faced Sam humors his big, dumb brother. Yay! 

Dean Sam thinks about Cas and Jack. Dean brushes off the thought with a Wherps, gotta keep moving attitude, and I already WANT TO SET THE WORLD ON FIRE. Sam then pies Dean in the face, so we have that. 

In suburban America, a mother starts to ready her children for bed. There’s a knock at their door and the father answers it. There’s nobody there, and as he turns around, he’s knifed in the back, his wife looking on in horror.

Skull masked killers enter the home. The mother and children run upstairs. The mother is quickly dispatched, and the kids soon follow. 

Agents Singer and Kripke check out the crime scene.

They learn more about the parents: exsanguinated and throat ripped out father, tongue ripped out mother. The children are missing. The cop shows a drawing of the killers. Dean (in a wildly out of character move!) uses his photographic memory to remember a case his fucking father botched back in the day. Dean pulls out the journal (MY GOD THERE’S BEEN NO GROWTH) 

For TFW Science (because Cas is the tree):

They determine they’re dealing with a roaming band of vampires. 

At night, a couple of vampmimes arrive at a house. Dean beheads one right away. Sam shoots the other with dead man’s blood. Dean removes the mask to reveal a normal looking vampmime. Why the masks?? Dean wants answers, and Dean “I’m not a killer” Winchester threatens the vamp with a quick death or slow death (with a spoon). The vamp spills the kids’ whereabouts. 

*Much Anticipated Barn Scene Alert* 

(Psych! Don’t get your hopes up, what lies ahead is bullshit.) 

The masked vamps are crawling all over the joint, but Dean and Sam Winchester can handle it! This is a milk run! They get the kids free and face the big bads. 

Fight! Chop! Slice! The boys are overwhelmed. Sam gets knocked out one last time. Dean’s held down to the ground so OMG GUYS!!! JENNY IS BACK!??!?!!? I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THEY GOT HER BACK!! (This joke is so old by now and it’s only been 3 days, sigh.) I did not remember her at all (but then I’m a TFW purest and tend to not watch the early seasons ---and I NEVER HAVE TO AGAIN!) (Natasha: coughs and points at our recap list.) (Boris: shit.) Dean remembers though, and talks just long enough for Sam to wake and chop her head off. See ya, Jenny! 

More fighting! 

Sam takes out another vamp and Dean tussles with the last one ---and is pushed backwards right into the rebar hook in the wall. So that happened. (I’m trying to stay calm, but I’m a ROILING CESSPOOL OF ANGER AND CONFUSION AND BITTER RIGHT NOW.) 

Sam kills the vamp. He’s ready to find the kids and leave. “Sam, I don’t think I’m going anywhere.” 

Dean pulls Sam close. HE’S BEEN IMPALED! Poor little snowman. Dean makes Sam promise not to try to resurrect him. He tells Sam that he’s proud of him and that he’s always looked up to him. That he was scared to be rejected by Sam in that very first episode when he went to get him from college. “I must’ve stood outside your door for hours. Because I didn’t know what you would say. Tell me to get lost or to get dead.” JESUS SHOW JUST LET DEAN LIVE AND BE LOVED. (Boris: In the alt version where Cas is there too, he’s instead telling Cas about watching him outside the Gas ‘n Sip. why do I do this to myself?) 

Sam cries, afraid to go through the world alone. Dean tells Sam to always keep fighting, tells him he loves him, and DIES. He dies clutching his chest and the whole season we think we’ve been getting heart and chest imagery as a symbol of love but instead it was just? Foreshadowing? Of getting impaled through the chest cavity and dying? 

Dean dies, and Sam is wrecked, and I call up 911 to inform them that I have been ROBBED of one Dean Winchester finally getting to live his life. (This is indeed, a beautifully acted scene. I just...wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing about it.)

Sam burns Dean on a lonely pyre, with nobody else around but the dog.

For Sam Gets a Dog but at What Cost Science:

Sam wakes alone, in mourning. There’s no dialogue - only a Sad!Sam montage of remembering the people he’d lost in the bunker. (Was this script only like 5 pages?) One of Dean’s cell phones rings. It’s a sheriff who’d been referred to Dean by Donna. (DONNA DOESN’T KNOW FML) There’s a case, so Sam takes off. He shuts down the bunker and it goes dark.

We cut to Dean in Heaven. It’s beautiful - a wilderness of mountains. Dean’s greeted by Bobby sitting at the quiet Roadhouse. Bobby tells Dean that he’s free - and Heaven’s free. Jack opened Heaven and tore down the walls before he took off for places unknown. I am GLAD ABOUT THIS. It’s about time for Heaven to be a true reward, but this show took Dean TOO SOON. “It ain’t just Heaven, Dean. It’s the Heaven you deserve.” Bobby drops one last reveal: “Cas helped.” 

They drink together. “it’s almost perfect,” Dean says. 

“He’ll be along,” is Bobby’s quiet response. (Our hearts rise thinking about Cas.) Time’s different in Heaven, Bobby explains. (Boris: Jeremy Bearimy, baby!) “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” Dean decides to go for a drive. He gets into Baby and drives away to the tune of “Carry on my wayward son.”

Cut to a montage showing Sam raising a child with “Dean” on the coveralls. (To quote a friend of mine: That goes against basic child safety, Sam!) While Dean drives, Sam raises a son.

In Sam’s house, the portraits only show pictures of the original Winchesters: Sam, Dean, Mary, John. Me to set dressers: EXTREME SIDE EYE - way to show Sam’s “full life.” Sam kept the Impala in storage, and possibly sits in it and weeps from time to time, as one does.

Much later, Sam dies in his home of “old age disease,” as someone on Tumblr put it. “It’s okay, you can go now,” baby Dean tells Sam, mirroring Sam’s words to his brother. AAAAAND Sam out. Remember, words can kill, kids!

Dean stops on a beautiful bridge and gets out to survey the world.

Dean smiles and the camera pans out. “Hey, Sammy,” he says. The boys are wearing the same outfits as the first episode because SYMBOLISM. (Boris: Symbolism? Like there was no growth or change or...Boris will stay out of your mentions.) (Natasha: Exactly.) They hug, and I do get emotional, because I’m not the burnt and broken shell of a fan that I may appear to be.

We get a “thank you” from Jared and Jensen on the bridge, and then the camera pans away to show the crew. We send them a giant box of MASKS FOR FUCK’S SAKE. And then we set this episode aside as unfulfilling fan fiction and move on with our lives.

Am I sad to see this show end? Yes, I am! Were there things I liked about this episode? Sure! Were there things I so viscerally disliked that I’m still sleeping poorly? Absolutely. That’s love, right? We’re still raw, but we WILL BE BACK on Monday with a new recap of an old episode. See you all then!

Quote on My Wayward Son:

I don’t have a choice. This is my destiny

It’s like running into somebody from high school, you know? Somebody you don’t want to see

Stay with me, please

I’m not leaving you. I’m gonna be with you right here, every day

Cas helped

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[aileen-dunbroch]

TOO DRUNK TO DREAM → BRAILEEN

TAGGING → Aileen Dunbroch & Bryce MacGuffin (@brycemacguffin)

TIMELINE → Tuesday, October 31, 2017

SETTING → Halloween Party

SUMMARY → TFW your roommate’s been slipping you narcotics for over a month and you have no idea you shouldn’t be drinking...

Aileen knew it was still early in the night, but she was already well drunker than she'd planned on being for Halloween. Whoever was mixing drinks at this house party really needed some training from the bartenders at Le Pub or something, because they'd gotten her completely sloshed without her even tasting a thing. She smoothed down the skirt of her Velma costume, her eyes blinking as she tried to regain focus on the room around her, and finally she spotted a familiar face - Bryce MacGuffin, who she'd known for as long as she could remember. She bumped her way through the crowd until she got to her friend, throwing her arm around him drunkenly and slurring, "Hiiiiii! You're out so late, who knew you were so fun?" Aileen leaned against him for support, sure that the room was going to start spinning any second and hoping that he wasn't here with anybody who was going to be mad at his brand new arm-accessory.

Bryce loved Halloween. Not only were the costumes always fun to look at, but you always had a few people try to convince you that ghosts were real and boy was that fun to shoot down. Dressed as the Grim Reaper - complete with the medicine mask that he'd let hang around his neck as he got to a party and started drinking - he made his way through the crowd, looking for Archie or Aileen or someone. He smiled gratefully when he saw one of his favorite triplets, but his smile faded slightly when he heard her. "You sound like my dad," he joked, though his dad's hard-to-understand dialect was more endearing than drunk-girl speech. "The night is young and you're already so sloshed, who would've thunk it? What'd you do, chug a bottle?" He put an arm around her as she leaned on him, wondering if this was when he should try giving her coffee.

Aileen furrowed her brows together... or she tried to, anyway; her face felt fuzzy, too, and she wasn't sure that the motion came across as she'd intended for it to. It was stranger, though; usually Aileen was much better at gauging her alcohol intake for this, it was strange to be so out of it so quickly. She'd been so tired lately, too, though, with or without the alcohol, and she found that same feeling of exhaustion creeping up on her, too, mingling with the confusion and the haziness of the night. Later, she'd probably decide this was her worst Halloween of all time, but right now all she could focus on was moving her lips and her tongue in conjunction to actually fumble out a reply to Bryce. "No, I didn't -- I didn't even drink that much," Aileen protested meekly, resting her head on his shoulder as she scooted closer to him, glad that he was strong enough to keep them both upright. "Mmmh, you're comfy, I could take a nap right here and then rally," she giggled feebly.

Bryce let his mind get cynical and skeptical all the time for fun, but when it came to his friends from the clans, it was hard to imagine anything bad happening to them. He knew, realistically, that Aileen was a bartender and knew her liquor - he knew even more realistically from hanging out with her that she could out-drink him with her hands behind her back. She had to be wrong about how much she'd drank, because this was Aileen, and this was Walt - people didn't go around putting weird stuff in other people's drinks here like they did in the episodes of Law and Order he loved so much. "How much is 'that much'?" he asked, almost with a laugh before shaking his head. "No, come on, we're going to get you some coffee. And then you're going to sober up a little and get me on your level." He led her to the kitchen in this house, but leading her there was harder than he'd expected - it felt like holding a tall doll in his arms, and he found a clear seat at a table and helped her into it. "Wait there, and keep talking to me," he suggested, looking around for something to make coffee with.

Aileen nodded, although the motions that she intended to be a quick agreement felt sluggish, like her head was in a vat of jello that she was trying to shake it up and down through. "Like... two? Three? I remember..." She blinked, wishing she could rub her eyes to try and see straight, but if she let go of Bryce she might just sink down to the floor and take a nap right there, and that didn't seem like a very good idea, people had probably spilled beer or even puked all over it in the past. "I took one shot for me, one for Elly, and... and not one for the other one," she slurred, not even being able to recall her own third triplet. Her legs felt stupidly heavy as Bryce led her away from the noise of the party, and as soon as she sat down, she slumped. It wasn't as warm or secure as clinging to her friend had been, but it would do. "Why are there two of you? I always knew you wanted to be more like us," she joked weakly as she finally rubbed her eyes, trying to clear away the double vision that had just kicked in. It was hard to open them again once she was done, though, so Aileen rested her elbows on the table and her head in her palms instead, listening to the far-away sound of Bryce making coffee for as long as she could.

Bryce snorted at the triple shots for the triplets. Granted, he thought it was adorable - he'd always been a fan of the Dunbroch sisters, all three of them - but he doubted he'd ever get drunk enough to forget their names and they weren't even his sisters. "Was it three shots of everclear or something? Dang," he muttered, more to himself than to Aileen as he got her situated and tried to help out. Coffee helped him when he was drunk, at least, and whether it was a placebo or not he wasn't sure. He found a coffee maker and got to work, snorting again at the two-of-you comment before thinking that that was really weird. A really high level of drunk. And Aileen wasn't even watching him anymore, covering her eyes. "I'd have five of me. It'd be great, you'd be so outnumbered," he joked, hurrying over while the pot warmed up. "Are you still awake, Ails?" He wasn't totally sure what to do when a friend was this drunk. "Do you want to go home, maybe? Take a nap and rally? It's early, there'll still be party when you're done, but if the coffee doesn't perk you up, I don't think you're really in the partying state, lassie."

Aileen loved Halloween and hated to admit defeat, but she had always prided herself on knowing her own limits and on this night she'd somehow barreled right past them into a total state of incoherence. She whined, no real words coming out, unable to quite process everything Bryce had just said to her at all -- but she had made out the word home, that much she knew for sure. "Home," she nodded miserably, the smell of the coffee he'd so kindly made making her stomach swoop dangerously, like it wanted to eject everything that was inside of it. "Just... five minute nap here, then I'll walk," she murmured, not sure if Bryce could make out the words uttered between the palms her chin was resting on. It was the best she could do, though; everything else seemed too difficult, like it was asking too much of her in this state, and she let her elbows slip downwards as her head softly thudded against the table, her brand new pillow, instead.

Bryce kept a hand on her shoulder, leaning close to try to hear her over the party. She nodded, and that was probably a good sign - he knew Aileen, he knew she knew above all how to take care of people, including herself. He couldn't quite here what she'd muttered, but her head fell softly towards the table and he felt his heart stop in his chest for a second. Did she really just fall asleep right there on the table? She must have been more far gone than he'd thought. "Ails? Aileen?" he asked nervously, his joking demeanor that was so easy to keep with her slipping away as he shook her and got no response. He couldn't just leave her there. Looking around, he took a deep sigh before realizing what he'd have to do. Bracing himself, he pulled her chair out and held her, eventually cradling her in his arms, glad both that he'd inherited some of his father's strength and also that Aileen was quite thin. He took a breath before fighting his way out of the party, his oldest friend in his arms. Home. He had to get her home.

Aileen was slipping in and out of dreams -- or maybe the jogging and jarring motions were part of reality, and the blackness was where the dreams should have been. She really didn't know; she didn't know much of anything, except that someone was saving her from herself. Tomorrow, she'd kick herself for getting so drunk. Tomorrow she might even wonder if someone had slipped her something to get her this way, because the fact that she felt completely drowsy, like she didn't want to imagine having to wake up again, was so not a familiar sensation to her. Right now, though, she didn't wonder anything except maybe when she'd stop being jostled around and could just fall deeper and deeper into the slumber that had ruined Halloween night.

Bryce looked at his childhiid friend and could only assume she was knocked out. It was something to behold and something to worry about a little, too, but then again he worried about most things. Getting her home at least had been easier than he hoped, though getting her in bed was no easy feat. It was worth it when he'd managed to tuck her in and her face looked more peaceful than it had. If she was going to be passed out for Halloween, at least itd be in the safety of her own home. The urge to sing an old Scottish lullabye was strong but he ignored it, choosing instead to make himself at home in a nearby seat. "If you need anything, I'm right here," he promised, though he wasn't sure if she'd heard him. He hoped she had. He hoped she knew he was there even though her eyes seemed close and even though she must be the most woozy person on the planet right now - he hoped she knew she wasn't alone.

Bryce looked at his childhiid friend and could only assume she was knocked out. It was something to behold and something to worry about a little, too, but then again he worried about most things. Getting her home at least had been easier than he hoped, though getting her in bed was no easy feat. It was worth it when he'd managed to tuck her in and her face looked more peaceful than it had. If she was going to be passed out for Halloween, at least itd be in the safety of her own home. The urge to sing an old Scottish lullabye was strong but he ignored it, choosing instead to make himself at home in a nearby seat. "If you need anything, I'm right here," he promised, though he wasn't sure if she'd heard him. He hoped she had. He hoped she knew he was there even though her eyes seemed close and even though she must be the most woozy person on the planet right now - he hoped she knew she wasn't alone.

Aileen was never the deepest of sleepers, but once Bryce had tucked her into her bed, she was out like a light. More and more lately she'd been conking out early and sleeping all through the night, but usually when she was drunk like this she woke up to get water, to go to the bathroom, to vomit... to do anything. On Halloween, though, she didn't know how long it was before her eyes finally blinked open again, and when they did they were bleary and heavy, like she could sleep for another twelve hours if she just let her eyes blink shut again. They managed to catch sight of Bryce, in the dim lamplight beside her bed, asleep in a chair he'd pulled up to her side, and as her heavy lids slid closed again, she reached out her hand to squeeze his, to let him know she was okay, and maybe to thank him for taking care of her while she was such a mess like this... and her hand stayed there intertwined with his for God knows how long, as she slipped back into the heavy slumber that had overtaken her however many hours before.

[meganlpie]

Dreams Become Reality

Anonymous asked: Oh lovely Meg! Can i please request a SPN fic? TFW and Crowley get sent to an alternate universe where monsters don't really exist(so Crowley and Cas are human). In this universe, Crowley is married to the reader, Sam &Dean's sister, and they have kids. The whole apple pie life and Crowley realizes that's exactly what he wants. When they return to reality, Crowley finds the reader and just plants one on her.

Here is your one-shot, lovely! I do not own Team Free Will or Crowley. They being to the creators of Supernatural. 

Warnings: Mentions of breastfeeding, if you consider that a trigger, mentions of blood. Fluff and it’s a bit long. 

Pairings: Crowley x fem!Winchester reader, Team Free Will. 

"Uh guys? Where are we?" Sam asked, effectively cutting off the argument between Dean and Crowley. Castiel was already following Sam's gaze up to the rather expansive house in front of them. "It appears as though we have been transported somewhere else," Castiel said. He was right. A few moments before, the four of them had been in a warehouse trying to work out a deal. Now, they were standing outside the very lavish estate.

               "What does it bloody matter where we are? Between Wings and I, we should have enough power to get back." Castiel nodded in agreement. Crowley raised his hand to snap his fingers, but nothing happened. "Well come on, Crowley. What's the hold up?" The King of Hell tried again, snapping his fingers to no avail.  "Castiel?" Castiel's brow was furrowed in confusion. "I appear to be powerless," he said before wandering off a little ways. The Winchesters exchanged a glance.

               "Well that's just freakin' great. Fantastic. We're stuck wherever this is." Crowley frowned. "Crowley...your name as a human was MacLeod, was it not?" Castiel asked suddenly, causing the three other men to look over where he was standing. Sam was the first to move and sure enough, on the large gate outside the estate, a plaque read "MacLeod Estate". Turning back to Dean and Crowley. "Guys...the MacLeod Estate."

               "That makes no sense," Crowley grumbled, walking over, "Why the bloody hell would I have such a bright house? It's not like me at all." Sam shrugged and Dean cocked his head to the side. "So, we get poofed out of the warehouse and sent to wherever we are now. Crowley and Cas appear to be powerless and now we find a mansion with Crowley's human name. Trickster, you think? Or a djinn?" Another shrug from Sam.

               "Oh, Mister MacLeod! We weren't expecting you home so early!" an elderly woman greeted the gentlemen with a smile. "Right...yes well, I seem to have forgotten something." The woman smiled. "Mrs. MacLeod was right again. She's inside and I have to plant these roses." She turned and walked away. "Mrs. MacLeod? You're married?!" Dean cried. Crowley simply stood there in shock. "Dean, Crowley has no powers and he's married. Do you think we could be in an alternate universe? Like when we were Ackles and Padalecki?"

               Dean's eyes widened. "God, I hope not. Now, I want to see how Crowley lives in this place." Crowley rolled his eyes but decided to trek up the house, the Winchesters and Castiel following closely. Crowley opened the door and breathed a sigh of relief. At least the inside of the house matched his taste. "Daddy!" A small voice cried, causing the four men to stop dead in their tracks.

               A little girl with (h/c) hair and hazel eyes came running toward the group and wrapped her small arms around Crowley's middle. "Welcome home, Daddy!" The little girl smiled up at him before looking at the other men. "Uncle Sam! Uncle Dean! Mister Castiel!" she cried, backing away from Crowley and throwing herself at the Winchester brothers. The four men looked at one another in surprise.

               "Y/D/N? Where did you go?" a familiar voice called out. You rounded the corner and grinned. "Crowley, you forgot your wedding ring again. You really should stop taking it off to wash your hands." You got closer to the group. You reached into the pocket of your apron and pulled out a wedding ring. You handed Crowley the ring and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Only then did you notice your brothers.

               "Sam. Dean. What are you doing here? We haven't seen you in months." No one said anything and Crowley was merely standing there, mouth agape. "Guys? Everything okay?" Sam found his voice first. "Yeah, everything's fine. We just...missed you and we wanted to see our niece." You chuckled. "Well she's obviously happy to see you. Actually, I'm glad you're here if you can spare a day." Sam glanced back at Dean who shrugged. Crowley was still staring as the Y/D/N wrapped her arms around his legs again.

               "Great! I've got a dozen eight year-olds coming in about two hours and I'm so far behind where I wanted to be. I still haven't finished frosting the cake." Crowley shook his head to clear it of the shock. "A dozen? Why?" You rolled your eyes. "You told your daughter to invite her classmates to her birthday party, remember? Spare no expense. Nothing is too good for your princess," you mocked lovingly. Crowley opened his mouth to retort, but a wailing from your other apron pocket caught his attention.

               "Crap, I was hoping he'd sleep a little while longer." Dean finally stepped up to you and hugged you close. Over his shoulder, the other men could see the surprised look on your face. "You go take care of him. We've got this." He pulled away and ruffled your hair, something he'd done since you were a kid. "Thanks, Dean. I need to go nurse your nephew." With that, you turned at went upstairs.

               "Follow her, Crowley. Figure out what's going on," Sam whispered as your daughter grabbed his hand and pulled him away. "Why me, Moose?" Castiel moved to follow after your brothers and replied, "You are her husband in this reality." Crowley exhaled loudly and followed after you. He had no idea how he was going to hold it together.

               Crowley wasn't one to let feelings get in the way of anything, but back in his reality, he had feelings for you. He'd been ignoring them. You were a hunter after all and a Winchester to boot. There was no way you'd have any sort of feelings for him. Even if you did, your brothers would never approve. Crowley pushed those thoughts to the back of his head as he followed the sound of your voice.

               He stopped short when he came to the open door of the nursery. You were sitting in your rocking chair, singing to your young son who was at your breast. The sight was enchanting to him. He'd experienced fatherhood once before, but he wasn't a very good father and never had he felt so mesmerized  by the sight of his wife nursing his child. As he watched you, a peculiar feeling began to nag at Crowley.

                He realized that he wanted this. With you and only you. Even without being a demon, without his powers, there was a part of him that wanted to stay in this world with you and your children. However, the bigger part of his brain was telling him that there was a piece of you missing in this world. The fierce hunter that Crowley loved. He determined that, if they made it back, he would tell you exactly how he felt.

               Sensing his presence, you looked up at Crowley. "Hey," you whispered. Crowley took a step into the room, his shoes sliding easily against the dark carpet. "Y/N...am I a good father?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Where is this coming from? You're a wonderful father. I think so and so do your children." Crowley reached down and gently ran his head over his son's head. The boy released your breast and smiled up at his father. Crowley chuckled before looking back up at your face. The serene look was gone from your face and was replaced by one of distress.

               Crowley heard your voice calling his name but your mouth didn't move. The voice echoed through his head repeatedly, but the you in front of him didn't move. Soon, the room began to spin as the voice grew more clear. It continued to call his name as well as Castiel's and the Winchesters. The room grew fuzzy and began changing back to the warehouse. "Will you guys please wake up?!"

               Crowley's eyes flew open at the clear sound of your voice. You were standing there covered in sweat and blood, the witches dead in front of you. They'd put a spell on Crowley, Castiel and your brothers to make them believe they were somewhere else. "What the hell?!" Dean cried as his eyes opened and he realized what had happened.

               "That's the last time I let you four go after a coven on your own," you muttered as you helped Dean up. Crowley was staring at you in disbelief. "A coven?" Sam asked and you nodded. "Yeah, a coven. If any of you had bothered to answer your phones, you'd have known that." Your voice didn't really sound angry, more like worried. Your four favorite people had put themselves in even more danger because they'd left you behind and hadn't answered your call.

               Crowley picked himself up and dusted off before turning his attention to you. You wore a look of determination and concern. Only then did he realize that some of the blood on you was yours. "Are you alright, love?" he asked, gesturing to the small cut on your arm. You nodded and gave him a small smile. You felt eyes on you and realized that Castiel and your brothers were watching the exchange curiously. "What?"

               They didn't answer, but you felt someone gently grip your arms. You turned your head and barely got a glimpse at Crowley's face before his lips crashed into yours. For a moment, you just stood there. You were in such a state of shock. "Crowley!" The King of Hell pulled away and glanced at your brothers. "Still our sister." You glared at Sam and retorted, "Which means you have no say in anything I do." With that, you pulled Crowley's lips back to yours.

               When you parted, you were gasped for breath. When you were able to speak, you asked, "So, you want to tell me what's gotten into you?" Crowley chuckled loudly. "Perhaps somewhere more private, Kitten." Crowley snapped his fingers and you were suddenly in his home on Earth. You were also both clean and in new clothes. "I missed being able to do that," he muttered.

               He kissed you again and began telling you exactly what had happened. When he finished, you smirked. "So...you love me?" Crowley rolled his eyes again and smiled at you. "Yes." You slid your hands up his chest, to his shoulders and around his neck. "Good," you whispered, "Because I love you too." Crowley's hands went to your hips. The two of you stood in silence, just holding onto each other and Crowley sighed in content as he realized that his dreams could actually become reality. ��Lò

(a/n: I hope this is what you wanted, anon!)

Tagging: @fairytalesexistxx and @brewsthespirit-blog