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#v: ain't in kansas
fatecantstopme · 7 months
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My Past, My Present, My Future
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader, Endverse!Dean x reader
Summary: You get dragged to the future along with Dean to witness the aftermath of the apocalypse. Follows the plot of "The End" (Season 4, Episode 4)
Warnings: mentions of death, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dirty talk.
A/N: If I tell you too much, it'll ruin the story...enjoy!
It had been 2009 when you and Dean had fallen asleep in a hotel in Kansas City. You were awoken by the sound of your boyfriend's voice muttering "What the hell?"
You opened your eyes to find yourself in a completely trashed room--it looked like an actual bomb had gone off. It took you a moment to realize it was the same room you'd fallen asleep in.
"Dean?" you asked in confusion.
He was staring out the window, so you joined him, the two of you now staring out a what remained of the city.
"What happened?" you whispered.
"I have no idea." He looked back at you, worry etched into his face. "We should get moving. See if we can find anyone else."
As the two of you walked through the city streets, you found yourselves completely alone--that is, until you came across a little girl crouched in an alleyway all alone.
As the little girl attacked Dean, you saw the word "Croatoan" painted on a brick wall. Dean defended himself, knocking the girl unconscious.
You simply pointed to the word, a look of dread on your face. Dean's gaze followed your finger and the same expression crossed his features.
"Shit," he muttered.
Suddenly, a group of infected people rounded the corner and spotted the two of you. You both took off running, desperate to avoid becoming their next meal.
"Dead end!" you yelled at Dean, but neither of you had time to figure out your next move. The infected people are still behind you when a heavily armed military unit opened fire on the group.
The commotion gave you and Dean the time you needed to escape. The two of you stayed hidden until nightfall. When you emerged, you noticed a sign on the fence surrounding the entrance to the city.
"Dean," you said softly, pointing to the sign. "Croatoan Hot Zone."
He stepped forward to get a better look. "August 1st, 2014? How...?"
"Great," you muttered. "So we're in the future."
"Apparently...and it ain't pretty."
You shared a look and muttered "Angels," in unison.
You managed to find an abandoned car that still had gas, so Dean hot-wired it and the two of you sped off. You were desperately trying to find a cell signal or even a radio signal when Zachariah made an appearance in the backseat of the car.
"I thought I smelled your stink on this Back to the Future crap," Dean growled.
In response, Zachariah simply began to read a Newspaper he'd brought with him. The headlines were dark, detailing some of the terrible events that had occurred in this morbid future.
"How the hell did you find us?" Dean asked in annoyance.
"Human informants from some of the fringier religious groups," Zachariah answered.
"That guy on the street last night," you said to Dean, who nodded.
"Send us back. Now," Dean demanded.
"No can do. The two of you are staying put in 2014 for a few days so you can see exactly what happens to the world if Dean continues to say no to Michael."
"You're an ass," you muttered.
Dean smirked a little. "As much as I love having (Y/N/N) as my copilot, why'd you have to drag her into this?"
"Don't worry, she'll be fine," Zachariah said with a wave of his hand. "She's here because she might be the only person who can convince you to do the right thing. She needs to see just how bad it gets almost as much as you need to."
Before either you or Dean could respond, Zachariah disappeared, zapping himself back to wherever the hell he hung out.
"Have I mentioned how much I hate angels?" you mumbled under your breath.
Dean simply nodded. "Me too, sweetheart."
"Where we headed?"
"Bobby's."
You kept your thoughts to yourself. Dean didn't need you to tell him it was unlikely Bobby had survived this, especially being wheelchair-bound. He wasn't a fool, but you knew it was better to let him have just a little bit of hope.
**********
As expected, Bobby's house was empty, save for his wheelchair and an absolute mess of junk. Dean was silent as he surveyed the room, putting the wheelchair back upright with a sad sigh.
He went to the mantel behind Bobby's desk and pried it open, pulling out Bobby's old journal. In it, he found a picture of several men with shotguns posing in front of a sign for Camp Chitaqua, Bobby and Cas among them.
He held the picture up for you to see and you exhaled softly. "Road trip?"
He nodded and the two of you headed for the camp. You managed to sneak past the guards, but as you were making your way farther into the camp, Dean grabbed your arm.
You followed his gaze and realized his once-beautiful Impala was parked off to the side completely junked out.
"Oh not you too, Baby," he whispered as he leaned forward to inspect the car.
You would have laughed if you hadn't been staring down the barrel of your own future.
"Dean--" the rest of your sentence was silenced as you fell to the ground, knocked unconscious by someone behind you.
The man was fast enough that both you and Dean were unconscious without a single sound.
When your eyes fluttered open some time later, you found yourself seated in a wooden chair, wrists gently bound to the arms. You saw Dean sitting on the floor a few feet away from you, arms cuffed to a ladder bolted to the floor. He wasn't moving and you whispered his name in worry.
"So you're awake." Had you not been staring at Dean when you heard the voice, you would have been certain it had been him talking.
You looked around, jaw dropping as Dean stepped out from his place against the wall behind you. It was Dean, but it wasn't your Dean. His face looked a little more haggard and the light in his eyes was dimmed almost to extinction.
"Who--how--?" you tried to ask.
"I could ask you the same question."
You looked back over at Dean's unconscious form and the other Dean sighed.
"He'll be fine...as long as you answer some questions. I know neither of you are some kind of supernatural creature--trust me, I tried all the tests. But he carries every weapon on him that I do and well--there's a striking resemblance." He trailed off for a moment. "Then there's you...any chance you can explain why you look like my dead wife's identical twin?"
You were saved from responding by the sounds of your Dean stirring. "What the hell?" he muttered as he realized he was cuffed in place.
"Thanks for joining us," the other Dean stated. "I was just asking your friend here why you look like my doppelgänger. Care to share?"
Dean looked between you and the older version of himself and sighed slowly. "Probably because I am you--well, the you from 2009. And she's (Y/N) from 2009. We were dragged here to 2014 courtesy of Zachariah."
Future Dean nodded. "Sounds like something he would do. He always was a dick."
You smirked a little, appreciating that somethings never changed. However, your mind was still reeling from the words Future Dean had said to you mere seconds before your Dean had woken up...dead wife.
"As much as I'd like to believe you, I need to be sure." Future Dean crouched down in front of your Dean, eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell me something only we would know."
Your Dean flicked his gaze to you for a moment before turning back to meet his own stare. "We were 19. Rhonda Hurley made us try on her satin panties. They were pink. And you know what? We kinda liked it."
You giggled lightly at his admission and Future Dean cracked a small smile and muttered, "Touché."
Future Dean stood back up, turning his attention to you. You were surprised to see the sadness in his green eyes--a look you'd only ever seen once before.
"You haven't looked at me like that since Jo and Ellen died," you said softly.
Future Dean grimaced. "A lot has happened in the past five years, (Y/N). I carry a hell of a lot more weight than I did in 2009."
You waited for him to continue, as you knew he would.
"A lot of shit happened--really bad shit. The apocalypse, demons, releasing the Croatoan virus...we lost a lot of good people, people I cared about." He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. "Three years ago, a small team of us tried to infiltrate a demon lair in an attempt to get Lucifer's location. I led one team, (Y/N) led the other. I don't know how, but they knew we were coming. I couldn't get my whole team out, but (Y/N)--she-she fought until the very end. She made certain her whole team made it out of there alive."
Your breath caught in your chest as you let his words sink in. You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, even though it was obvious he was trying to hide it. Your Dean let out a soft pained sound and you felt the strong urge to go to him, but the ropes around your wrists held you in place.
Future Dean continued, "When I found out they'd left her behind, I went back...the demons had already cleared out, having gotten what they wanted. I found her..." He trailed off, gaze finally raising to meet yours. "I found you...broken and bleeding. I held you in my arms as you took your last breath. I carried you back home and I built your pyre. I wouldn't let anyone else near you. I lost something that day I could never replace, and it changed me forever."
"Dean," you whispered softly. Tears filled your (y/e/c) eyes as you stared into his mossy green ones. "I'm so sorry."
He almost laughed at your response. "I just told you that you die because of me and you're the one who's sorry?" He let out a pained chuckle. "You always did love me more than I deserved."
Your expression was soft and your smile even softer. "I don't blame you. It doesn't matter why or how it happened--it wasn't your fault. I make my own choices, as you well know. So if I chose to stay behind to save other people, then that was my decision and the consequences are for me to bear."
He closed his eyes for a few moments, allowing your words to wash over him. He'd never even imagined he would have the pleasure of hearing your voice again, let alone see your smile, or hear your laugh. He felt his armor crack just enough that a sliver of the Dean you had always loved shone through. It terrified him, your ability to affect him even now, but he knew his love for you had never dimmed and never would.
"What about Sam?" your Dean asked, breaking the silence.
"There was a heavy weight showdown in Detroit a few years back. From what I heard, Sam didn't make it out."
"From what you heard?" Dean asked in shock. "You mean you weren't with him?"
"We hadn't spoken since 2009."
You had your own opinions on Dean's decision to part ways with Sam and you'd been very vocal about it. You could tell by your Dean's expression that he was shocked and guilty about how that decision had played out.
Future Dean turned his gaze to you and you saw the same regret in his eyes that you'd seen in your Dean's. But something about his expression and the intensity of his gaze made you wonder if he was regretting the same thing as your Dean.
Future Dean exhaled slowly and averted his eyes again, pulling his invisible mask back down. "I have a mission, so I have to go. The two of you are going to stay here for the time being. I can't have the younger version of me running around the camp and there are quite a few people here that remember you, (Y/N). So stay here and don't cause any trouble."
You shot a look to your Dean who grumbled something about being left chained up. Future Dean gave you one last sad look before going out the door and leaving you two behind.
"How long until you get yourself out of those cuffs?" you teased softly.
"How long until you squeeze your hands out of that rope future me barely tied?" Dean sniped back.
You smiled and shifted your left hand so you could grab ahold of the knot Future Dean had tied. It took you less than 10 seconds to get it untied and even fewer to release your other hand.
Dean shot you a grin. "That's my girl."
You rolled your eyes, scanning the room for something to pick the handcuff lock with. "You're the one who didn't tie them tightly."
"Future me," he emphasized. "Clearly he's got a soft spot for you."
You smirked. "So do you." Your eyes landed on a small pen knife sitting on the table. You grabbed it, holding it up for him to see.
His eyes sparkled with several different emotions and you knew he was reeling from everything you'd just learned. Hell, you were busy compartmentalizing all of your emotions so you didn't fall apart.
"Yeah," he whispered. "I do."
You offered him a sweet smile before leaning down to his level and picking the lock on his cuffs with the pen knife. As soon as he was free, you helped him to his feet.
"Okay, I'm gonna go have a look around," he said. "You stay here."
"Dean--" you started to protest.
"Hey, it's not like I don't want you with me, but you heard what future me said...there are people here who will recognize you--people who know you're dead."
You sighed, knowing he was right. "Fine. Why don't you go first, make sure it's clear, then I'll follow you."
Dean glared at you for a long moment, before his expression softened. He knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. "Alright. Just stay out of sight, okay? I don't need one of these trigger-happy yahoos shooting you because they think you're a monster or something."
You nodded your agreement and Dean slowly opened the door to the cabin. You stay inside until he beckoned you to join him. You stayed close to the edge of the cabin as you waited for him to gesture for you to follow.
Just as Dean rounded the corner, Chuck Shirley stepped directly into his path, stopping him in his tracks. You stayed back, back pressed against the side of the cabin.
"Uh, hey there Chuck," Dean said.
Chuck started to ask him about what they should do about a shortage of perishable items and hygiene products before realizing Dean was supposed to be out on a mission.
"Yeah, I-uh-I was gonna head out now," Dean lied.
Suddenly, a woman crossed into your field of vision and swung a punch and a kick at Dean. He jumped back and grabbed Chuck, pulling him in-between himself and the angry woman.
Your instincts screamed for you to help him, but you knew you needed to stay hidden. You listened as the woman, Risa, yelled at Dean for spending the night in another woman's cabin the night before.
"You said we had a connection," she snapped.
You almost laughed at that--it was exactly the kind of thing Dean would say to a woman to appease her.
You watched as Risa angrily stomped away and Dean exhaled in relief. He quickly asked Chuck if Cas is around and he gestured to a cabin close by. "I don't think he's going anywhere," Chuck said lightly as he walked off.
As soon as he was out of sight, Dean's gaze landed on you and he waved at you to follow him. You followed closely behind as he entered the cabin, staying just out of sight of anyone inside.
You could hear Cas's voice, but it sounded different than you remembered it being--softer and maybe even lazier than before.
He must have spotted Dean because you heard him acknowledge him as their "fearless leader". You heard Cas tell the women in the room to wash up and prepare for the orgy.
A group of girls walked by you and Dean as you both step into the room.
"Orgy?" Dean asked incredulously.
Castiel simply shrugged as he regarded both of you. "(Y/N)," he murmured quietly. "This is a surprise."
You sighed. "I'd imagine so. I hear I'm dead."
"Indeed you are." Castiel's gaze landed on Dean. "And you're not the Dean of this time. When are the two of you from?"
"2009," you answered.
"Zachariah sent us here," Dean added.
"Ahh," Cas mumbled. "I shouldn't be surprised."
"Okay, so nice to see you and all that, but can you zap us back please?" Dean asked.
Cas giggled slightly and Dean's gaze narrowed in annoyance.
"Dude, are you stoned?"
"Generally, yeah," Cas replied.
Dean looked over at you, but you were just as surprised as he was. You shrugged and Dean let out a quiet groan.
"I don't have powers anymore," Cas said simply. "When the end came, the angels just left...bored with their playthings, I guess. When they left, so did my powers."
"Oh great," Dean muttered.
"Dean," you said in a warning tone. "Don't."
Cas smiled at you and crossed the room to give you a hug. You were a little surprised, but you returned the gesture.
"It's good to see you, (Y/N). You were always the only person who could keep Dean in line."
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you at his words. "We've had the pleasure of meeting the Dean of this time. I imagine he's not exactly one to defer to anyone."
For a moment Castiel's expression grew wistful, as if remembering a better time. "He used to, but he changed rather significantly when you died. It's been three years and he still hasn't gotten over your death. He's not the same Dean you knew."
You glanced at your Dean and exhaled softly. "Knowing him, he's just hid that part of himself so far down he's forgotten it even exists."
Dean's gaze met yours and you knew you were right. You could see it is eyes--he knew exactly what losing you would do to him. He knew the kind of man he would become.
Cas glanced back and forth between the two of you and shook his head. "You always could read each other's minds. It's nice to see that again. But I am curious, how did our Dean handle meeting the two of you?"
"Not well," you admitted.
"Pretty sure he was happier to see you than he was to see me," Dean muttered.
You chuckled mildly. "Well I'm the dead one, so it seems fitting."
Dean winced and you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried to smile at you, but the pain in his gaze ensured the expression didn't meet his eyes.
Before any of you could utter another word, the sound of trucks pulling up sounded from outside the cabin. You let Dean walk out first, followed by Cas. You opted to remain in the shadows just inside the doorway. You could see what was happening outside without being noticed.
You saw Future Dean getting out of one of the trucks and tossing a beer to another man. They cracked them open and the other man turned his back on Dean.
You watched in horror as Future Dean raised his pistol, pointing it at the man's back. Your Dean ran out, yelling for him to stop, but it was too late. Future Dean pulled the trigger and the man fell to the ground.
Future Dean whirled around, coming face to face with your Dean, eyes full of anger. As Dean began to argue with Future Dean, you ran out in an attempt to calm both men. Castiel grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
The gasps and shocked faces of the people around you reminded of you of the position you'd just put yourself in. Most people were staring at your Dean in confusion, but several gazes had landed on you. You recognized a few of the faces and you knew in your heart these people had known you--the other you.
Future Dean gestured to your Dean and said, "Me and him--it's messed up, okay? But if you need to know something, then I'll tell you when you need to know it."
As Future Dean glanced around, he noticed some people were not looking at him--or at his doppelgänger. He followed one person's gaze and his body froze when his eyes landed on you. Even though he'd known you were here, it was still painfully jarring to see you.
What was worse, was he wasn't sure how to explain your presence--too many people had known you. A few of them had been there when you'd died.
You locked eyes with Future Dean and your heart ached for him. You could see the turmoil in his eyes and the difficulty he was having formulating any kind of words to address your presence. He might not be your Dean, but you still loved him--after all, he was the man your Dean would one day become.
You stepped forward, gently pulling yourself from Castiel's grasp. "Dean," you whispered softly, sad eyes meeting his.
"Some of you might remember my wife, (Y/N)," Future Dean said calmly. "I'm not prepared to explain her presence to all of you, but just know that she's not here to cause any harm."
His statement seemed to appease most of the small gathering, but you saw some darker expressions cross the faces of a few people in the crowd.
Future Dean stepped forward and grabbed your Dean by the jacket, practically dragging him towards his cabin. His gaze landed on you and he gestured for you to follow.
"Didn't I tell both of you to stay put?" he growled as he closed the door behind him.
Your Dean began to argue, but he was silenced by Future Dean's anger.
"He was infected, okay? I've been doing this a long time and you learn to see the signs. I did what I had to do."
"We know that," you said softly.
Both men looked at you in surprise, but your gaze was firmly on Future Dean's face. You wanted him to know you understood--you weren't even sure why.
"You didn't need to kill him in front of everyone," your Dean commented.
Future Dean's gaze cut to him like a blade. "Yeah because seeing my freaking clone and my dead wife was so much better."
Your Dean opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Future Dean cut him off.
"The last thing these people need is to see me arguing with you, okay? They're twitchy survivors who can't handle this. This is my time, not yours, so stay in your lane."
Dean backed off, realizing Future Dean was right. He was nothing more than an observer in this time and he needed to act like it.
Future Dean pulled out three glasses and poured a drink for each of you. Your eyes scaned his face, keen senses picking up on the emotions clearly stirring beneath the calm surface. You wanted to talk to him, get him to open up, but you knew this wasn't the time.
"So what was the mission for?" you asked gently.
Future Dean gave you an appreciative look. "Five years of searching--five long years and I finally found it." He pulled something out of his jacket and laid it on the table. "The Colt."
"How?" your Dean asked in surprise.
"Demons have been moving it around for years, but we finally got good intel on its location."
You felt uneasy as you regarded him. You couldn't read him as well as you could your Dean, but you knew he was thinking about something--something you weren't going to like. "What's your plan?" you asked warily.
"Tomorrow night," he said, dark gaze fixed on your face, "I'm gonna kill the devil."
Shock lit up both your's and your Dean's faces. "We have no idea if the Colt's gonna work!" you protested, fear lacing your voice.
"It's our only shot and I'm gonna take it," he countered.
You glanced at your Dean and you could tell he didn't like the sound of this plan any more than you did. Sure, you both wanted to find the Colt in your time and kill the devil so none of this would happen, but there was no way to know if it would work. No one had ever tried it on an archangel before.
"Can I speak to my wife alone for a moment?" Future Dean asked, further shocking you both.
"I, uhh--" you stuttered.
Your Dean looked at you sympathetically, a sad expression settling onto his face. You knew what the look meant, so you weren't surprised to hear him agree. He stepped outside, leaving you and Future Dean alone.
"You know it's hard for me," he began, "seeing you after all this time."
"It's not easy on me either," you admitted, "seeing the man you become...and knowing I'm not going to be with you much longer."
He looked down in shame. "I know I'm not the man you love." He gestured to where your Dean stood outside. "I'm not him. But I have never stopped loving you--never stoped missing you."
You closed your eyes for a moment. "I know. I can feel it."
"I knew you would," he said softly. "I'm sure knowing what the future has in store for both of us isn't something you'd expected to see."
You shook your head. "I certainly didn't expect to hear you call me 'your wife'."
A small smirk played across his lips. "You get your priorities straight when the world is about to end. Marrying you was the best thing I ever did."
You smiled slowly, but your heart ached too much to continue this train of discussion. "So why did you want to speak alone?"
He inhaled deeply. "I wanted to talk to you without him around to persuade you otherwise."
"Persuade me to do what, exactly?"
His gaze was intense as he stepped towards you. If you didn't know him, it would have frightened you. "When you go back to 2009, I want you to pack up your things and leave. Leave me as far behind as you can--run and never look back."
A mixture of shock and sorrow darkened your features. "I-I can't do that."
He reached out and grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly. "You have to, (Y/N)," he pleaded. "It's the only way I can keep you safe--alive."
You shook your head. "I can't leave you."
He caressed your cheek gently, his calloused hands molding perfectly to your face. "I need you to do this for me, sweetheart. I know it won't be easy and I-he won't understand, but it's for the best. He'll realize it in the end."
"Marrying me was the best thing you've ever done, but you want to deny yourself that joy? Deny me?"
"I would rather suffer a thousand deaths than watch you die again. It almost killed me, (Y/N). Hell, in a way it kinda did. I'm not that man anymore, and I don't want that for him."
You touched his face gently, fingers grazing against the rough stubble on his cheek. "You're wrong, you know. I can see him in you. You might be older, damaged in ways I can't understand, but the man I love lives in you. You and I both know Dean is going to tell me the same thing when we get back to 2009. It will break his heart, but he will beg me to leave if there's even a remote chance it will save my life."
His expression told you exactly how right you were.
"Looks like you haven't changed all that much--at least not in the ways that matter."
A flicker of pain crossed his face, but he was quick to hide it. He loved you so much it hurt and he knew there was no hope for him. He had to believe that the Dean from 2009 would heal from losing you, especially if it meant you got to live.
"Sometimes, I'll lie awake at night and stare at your picture--talk to it, even. I dream of you often and it breaks my heart every time I wake up to find you're not there. I miss you with every part of my tattered soul."
"Dean..." you whispered, leaning into him.
"I know you don't love me, but I need you to know how deeply I love you, even now. You hold my heart in the palm of your hand, (Y/N). You always have."
You stood on your tip-toes and brushed your lips across his cheek. "You are him," you whispered lowly. "I love him, so I love you. Five years of hell on earth doesn't change that."
Tears filled his eyes and he pulled you tightly against him. He never wanted to let you go, no matter what the cost. He felt conflicted about loving you so much, but he knew without a doubt in his mind that the 2009 version of himself would understand.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before settling his chin down against it. He loved the way you fit in his arms, as if you were made for them. He wanted you so badly it hurt--an ache so deep in his bones he knew he would never be rid of it.
It took all of his strength--all his willpower--to pull away, releasing you and taking a step back.
You looked up at him with compassionate (y/e/c) eyes, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, heal his pain. You hadn't been lying when you said you loved him. You could feel the man you loved beneath the hardened exterior, and it broke your heart to see him in so much pain.
Your eyes scanned his face again, but he couldn't meet your gaze. You knew his body ached for your touch--you knew because your Dean had always been that way. It had been three years since Future Dean had felt your body against his, so you knew exactly how much it was killing him.
You sighed, glancing out the little window at the front of the cabin. Your Dean stood out there, shoulders set in that stern way you were used to seeing. Your heart ached for him--you knew it was hard for him to be in this situation. You loved him more than you'd ever thought possible and you knew he felt the same. Seeing the way his future self looked at you likely made him contemplate things he shouldn't have had to bear.
"Stay here," you whispered to Future Dean. You stepped past him, heading for the door.
Future Dean watched as you exited, eyes fixated on the way you moved--desperately trying to commit every inch of you to memory.
"Hey," your Dean said softly as you stepped outside. "You okay?"
"Not really," you admitted. "You?"
He gave you a sad smile and shook his head. "This is a lot harder than I thought it would be."
"I know."
"No, sweetheart, I don't think you do," he said gently, but firmly. "You have an idea, sure, but you don't know--not the way I do. I can see it on his face--on my face. The way he misses you, the love he so clearly feels for you...the emptiness inside of him only you can fill. I know all of those feelings, (Y/N). I can't even fathom the pain of losing you. It hurts to even think about."
You touched his arm gently and he leaned into the touch as if on instinct.
"I know what he's feeling, even if I can't fully experience it myself. I know the devastation I would feel if I lost you--I don't think I'd ever fully recover. Add to that all the loss he's experienced in the last five years and I can understand why he's the way he is. I see myself in him...and I can see myself becoming him."
Dean turned his full attention to you and his next words shocked you to your very core.
"He needs you, (Y/N). I have a bad feeling about tomorrow night and I think you might be the only thing that stops him from doing something reckless. It pains me to say this--to give you up, even for a moment, but he needs you. I know it might feel weird, wrong even, but he's me...and I get him, more than I'd care to admit."
Your lips parted in surprise. "I-I don't know if I can do that, Dean."
He touched your face gently and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "He's me, (Y/N)...and he needs you. You're his wife, after all. So go."
Your eyes scanned his face for any sign of discomfort, but you only saw sadness. Part of you hated this idea, but the other part knew he was right. You'd felt it when you'd been with Future Dean--felt his need for you so strongly it nearly overwhelmed you.
"I love you," you whispered.
"I know, sweetheart. I love you too."
He nodded towards the cabin and gave you a soft smile. You stepped away, knowing you were about to do something that felt both incredibly wrong and incredibly right at the same time.
"Where will you go?"
"I'll hang out with Cas. Don't worry about me, baby."
You nodded and watched him walk away towards Castiel's cabin. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself before turning to the door in front of you.
Future Dean seemed almost surprised to see you as you stepped back into the cabin.
"Hi," you murmured.
"Hey."
"I can't walk away," you whispered. "Not when you're in so much pain."
He looked at you in confusion, unsure of what you were trying to tell him.
You were typically so good with words, but whatever skill you normally had failed you as you looked into his haunted green eyes. There was no way for you to fully understand the emotions he was feeling, no words to explain how desperately you wanted to heal even the smallest fraction of his soul.
You crossed the short distance between you, practically crashing into him as you grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled him down to you. The kiss surprised him, but he was in no position to pull away--wrong or not, he craved you like a drowning man in need of air.
His arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, holding on for dear life as he deepened the kiss. It felt as if you were both engulfed in flames, every sensation burning you both--scarring you in a way neither of you would ever heal from.
His hands traveled down your back, slipping under your ass to pull you up into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, lips never leaving his.
He carried you to a small room at the back of the cabin and laid you down as gently as he could onto the mattress. There was no bed--simply a mattress on the floor, but there were blankets and a couple pillows, just enough to be comfortable.
Your hands slid inside his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders forcefully. His lips didn't leave yours as he tugged it off and tossed it out of the way. You pulled on his henley, silently begging him to take it off too, a request he immediately complied with.
He had to pull away from you just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, but the action was enough to ground him. As he gazed down at you, his heart clenched in his chest. You were just as beautiful as he remembered, eyes full of love and adoration--an expression he'd missed desperately.
"I love you so much, (Y/N/N)," he said quietly.
Your expression softened slightly, realizing the pain he was feeling--the mixed emotions racing through his veins. "I love you too, Dean. Don't question that for a second."
He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the palm of your hand as you reached up to cup his cheek.
"Get out of your head, baby," you murmured. "Focus on me--on this moment--nothing else."
His eyes slowly opened, gaze landing on your face. You began to blush beneath him, his hungry expression heating you from the inside out.
"You're wearing far too much clothing for my taste," he teased, voice low and throaty.
You smirked. "I know you like to rip my clothes off, but these are my only ones--so be gentle."
He groaned, just like you knew he would. Dean was notorious for literally ripping your clothes--he'd ruined more shirts and pants than you cared to admit...not to mention most of your undergarments.
"How 'bout we make a deal?" he murmured.
You hummed in response, so he continued.
"I'll promise not to rip your pants or your underwear, if you're willing to forfeit your shirt."
You looked up at him in surprise. "I don't have another shirt, Dean."
He grinned wolfishly. "But I do."
Realization crossed your features, a small smile curling the corners of your mouth. Before you could respond, he gripped your shirt in his strong hands and tore it right in half, revealing your heaving chest.
"Dean!" you admonished in surprise.
"Sorry, baby--I couldn't wait any longer. You know how impatient I get."
As if to emphasize his impatience, he lowered his mouth to your chest, tugging the cups of your bra down to expose your soft breasts. He groaned loudly before burying his face between them, nipping and sucking at the supple flesh.
You moaned softly, fingers of one hand tangling in the short locks at the base of his skull. Your other hand slipped down his broad back feeling the heated skin beneath the tips of your fingers.
You felt unfamiliar scars, which nearly brought tears to your eyes. You hated the idea of him being hurt--especially if you weren't there to care for him as he healed.
Dean sensed your shift in demeanor and he lifted his head to observe your face. "You okay, baby?"
His soft words brought you back to the present and you offered him a small smile. "New scars," you whispered.
You didn't need to elaborate, he knew exactly what you meant. He could read you just as well as you could read him. "You were there for most of them," he murmured gently.
You relaxed slightly and he sighed before placing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"You know me too well," you remarked.
"You're the love of my life, sweetheart. There's not a damn thing I don't know about you."
Tears pricked at the back of your eyes and you desperately pushed the welling emotions down, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. "I need you, Dean," you whispered. "Desperately."
He had never been one to deny you, and he certainly wasn't going to start now. Besides, his own need was slowly becoming unbearable.
"I'm right here, baby. I'll make you feel so good--I promise."
He wasted no time in removing the rest of your clothing and his own. He wanted to take his time, really feel you, but he knew time was the one thing neither of you had.
"I need to taste you," he whispered into your ear before beginning his descent to your aching pussy.
Some things may have changed in the last five years, but Dean's skills in the bedroom hadn't. The things he could do with his mouth should have been categorized as a crime--his ability to have you screaming and shaking within minutes was still a shock after all this time.
He loved the way you tasted, the way your body reacted to his touch, the pretty sounds you made as he feasted on you. There wasn't a damn thing he didn't love about you, but he had to admit this was in the top five things he missed most about you. The way your body melded with his--two souls intertwining in the most fundamental way, the overwhelming pleasure he could only find in your arms...he'd be a liar if he said he hadn't dreamed of it often in the last three years.
Your nails dug into his biceps as you desperately clung to any part of him you could reach. Your orgasm swept over you seconds later, pulling moans and whimpers from your throat as he continued his assault.
Dean ignored the tugs on his hair, instead holding your hips even more firmly against the mattress as he continued to eat your pussy hungrily. It took mere moments for your whimpers to once again turn to heavy moans of need--your voice hoarse from begging him to keep going.
When your second orgasm crashed into you, your legs shook almost violently against his head, thighs threatening to crush him. He couldn't have been bothered to care--had you actually crushed him in that moment, he would have died a happy man.
He finally relented when you began begging him to give you a moment--just one moment to breathe. He lifted himself up to hover over you, licking his lips happily as he gazed down at you.
"You seem pleased with yourself," you said breathlessly.
"Oh I am." The pride he was feeling practically oozed from his pores. Nothing stroked his ego like making you fall apart over and over again.
You ran your hands up and down his arms in a gentle, soothing manner. He'd always loved the way you touched him--the sweet, loving action something he hadn't been used to before you.
"I love you," he whispered.
You met his gaze and smiled. "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."
The reply stunned him into a motionless silence. It had been years since he'd heard those words from your lips--he never thought he would be lucky enough to hear them again. In that moment, he felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, torn apart, and put back together...it hurt like hell, but he wouldn't have traded the moment for anything.
You noticed the change in him and you worried you'd said something wrong. "I'm sorry--"
"Don't apologize," he said immediately. "I just...I haven't heard those words in years and--well, it hit me harder than I thought it would. That was, umm--" he sighed heavily. "It was the last thing you said to me before you died."
His voice was a gravelly whisper, filled with unimaginable pain, and it nearly broke your heart in two. "Dean..." you murmured.
"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to hear those words again--to hear your sweet voice remind me how much you love me. I missed you, sweetheart."
You couldn't have known how he'd react to your statement--hell, you hadn't even thought about it...the words just poured from your mouth like they had countless times before. It didn't matter what year he was from--you loved Dean Winchester with a kind of endless passion that would outlive Death himself.
You knew this experience would change you in ways you couldn't yet comprehend, but you wouldn't change it for anything. At the end of the day, this was Dean, and there was nothing you wouldn't do for him--nothing.
"Make love to me, Dean," you whispered lovingly, eyes bright with desire.
"I could never deny you, (Y/N/N)," he said sweetly. "I won't start now."
He leaned down to kiss you deeply, pulling you back into the warm embrace you craved. As the kiss progressed, your bodies became more entangled, until it was impossible to tell where one of you ended and the other began. It was a feeling you'd only ever felt with Dean, and one you couldn't have explained even if you tried.
After what seemed like an eternity, Dean finally broke the kiss, breathing deeply. "I can't hold back any longer. I need you more than I need to breathe, (Y/N)."
"I'm yours, Dean."
The simple act of giving yourself over to him completely had him wanting to do nothing but worship you until the sun came up again.
He didn't hesitate, didn't overthink--your body was calling to him and he answered it gladly. In one single thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, eliciting sharp groans from you both.
"Fuck, sweetheart--I forgot how incredible you feel," he whispered against your heated skin.
You were breathless and aching, the desire for him to ruin you so overwhelming you couldn't think of anything else. "Move," you pleaded desperately, nails digging into his shoulder blades.
His body mindlessly responded to your pleas, hips setting an almost brutal pace. You both needed this--needed the release that could only come from each other.
You clung to him and he to you, the room filling with the salacious sounds of wet skin against skin and moans of endless pleasure.
"I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, baby," he groaned. "I fucking missed them so much."
"You feel so good, Dean," you gasped.
"So do you, sweetheart."
And fuck did you feel incredible. He loved you so much and you felt it in every single movement his body made. You hoped he could feel just how much you loved him in return.
"You're the only woman who could ever make me feel like this," he whispered.
You knew exactly what he meant--what he was trying to say. Sex had always been different with you. It had always felt more incredible than with anyone else he'd ever been with. The profound bound the two of you shared made everything better--even sex.
"I never want you to stop," you murmured. "It feels so good."
"Shit," he groaned, your words having more of an affect on him then he'd expected. "Keep talking like that and I'm gonna cum."
"That's what I want, Dean. Want you to fill me up."
He practically growled as he bit down on your collar bone, hips slowing as he tried to regain his composure. "Need you to cum first," he begged.
You rolled your hips against his in response and the sensations he was experiencing snapped whatever remained of his self-control. He grabbed your legs and tugged them flush against his chest and began to pound into you recklessly.
His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, pulling sharp cries of pleasure from your open mouth. Your hands grasped at the blankets beneath you, struggling desperately to find purchase anywhere.
He knew he could get you over the edge this way--he knew your body almost as well as he knew his own. Within a few short minutes, your cries of pleasure turned to screams of his name as one of the most intense orgasms of your life hit you like a tsunami.
Before you could come down from your high, Dean found his own, releasing his seed into your pussy. The contractions of your walls around him milked every last drop of cum from him before he collapsed on top of you, spent and satisfied.
Your arms immediately wrapped around him, holding him tightly against you. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest and you were certain he could feel yours. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being in the arms of the person you love most.
"You're amazing, (Y/N)," he whispered into your neck.
"As are you," you mumbled, pressing your lips into his hair.
He held you almost as tightly as you were holding him and you knew he didn't want to ever let go. Your heart ached for the man in your arms just as much as it ached for the man currently sitting in Castiel's cabin.
Love was the most complicated emotion there was, but this far surpassed any normal situation. Dean Winchester was the love of your life in any time period--past, present, or future. You hated seeing the man you loved in pain and seeing two of him in pain complicated matters beyond belief.
"Where's your head at?" he asked softly.
You chuckled lightly--he really did know you better than anyone else.
"Just thinking about this messed up situation we've found ourselves in."
He sighed quietly. "Don't think on it too much, sweetheart. Zachariah will send you back tomorrow and everything will go back to normal."
"Except for the part where both present and future versions of you want me to leave..."
He lifted his head slowly. "It's too late for me...I'm too far gone, too deeply and madly in love with you to ever push you away. But the Dean from 2009? Yeah he loves you more than he's ever loved another person in his life, but he'll learn to live without you. He has to. Otherwise he'll wake up one day in 2011 without you and he'll feel the way that I do. He'll be forced to live with a hole in his chest that no human being could ever fill, and it'll change him, (Y/N). It'll break him."
Tears streamed down your face as you listened to his words. You knew they were true--knew it was how he was feeling, how he'd felt for years. You didn't want your Dean to feel that pain, but you knew deep in your heart you couldn't walk away. There was no timeline where you could turn your back on the one person that made life worth living...but this Dean didn't need to know that.
"No more talking," you said softly. "Let's just sleep a while."
He nodded and rolled over onto his back, taking you with him. You giggled softly as you nuzzled into his chest, finding comfort in his strong arms.
**********
You awoke to the sound of knocking on the door of the cabin. You felt Dean stir beside you, a grumble of annoyance slipping past his lips. You smiled a little at his moodiness--it was nice to see some things never changed.
You pulled yourself up and got dressed quickly, grabbing a clean henley from the small pile of clothes in the corner. It was much too big on you, but it was all you had thanks to Dean's impatience.
You opened the door of the cabin and found a somewhat sheepish looking Castiel standing on the other side.
"Is, uh, is Dean awake?"
"He mumbled something rather rude when I tried to wake him up, so I let him sleep."
Cas chuckled. "Sounds about right."
"I can wake him if you need him."
Cas looked like he wanted to say no, but knew he couldn't. "Yeah, if you don't mind. We need to start planning for tomorrow if we want this to work. People are starting to talk."
You sighed. "I'll get him up."
You stepped back, leaving the door open as an invitation for Cas to come inside. He chose not to, opting instead to wait on the porch while you went to wake Dean.
"Dean? Sweetheart?" you said gently. "You need to get up."
"Five more minutes," he grumbled.
You laughed and shook him a few times. "Come on, handsome. We've got work to do."
"Fine," he groaned. "Fine."
He sat up slowly, eyes dark with sleep. He looked up at you and you offered him a soft smile, which he instantly returned.
"You're so beautiful."
You blushed. "Get dressed before Cas comes in and sees your naked ass."
"He's probably seen it a couple times by now," he teased as he got up. "Now, where'd you put my pants?"
You laughed. "I think you threw them somewhere over there." You pointed to the other side of the room where a small pile of clothes laid.
He smirked slightly and crossed the room, grabbing his clothes and putting them on quickly.
"What's up, Cas?" he asked gruffly when he came into the main room.
"The team wants to know what's going down tomorrow and uh, past you says we need to start making a plan."
He shot you a look, but you simply shrugged. You weren't at all surprised your Dean wanted to make a plan. He didn't like this whole idea in the first place, so it made sense he would want some kind of plan in place.
"Fine. Gather the team and get them in here."
Cas went off to do as asked. The first person to arrive was your Dean. One look at his handsome face had you rushing to him and wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your hair and sighed softly.
"I know this is a little awkward," you said quietly to both Deans as you stepped back.
"Not as much as you would think," your Dean responded.
Future Dean nodded, but remained quiet for a few moments. He fixed your Dean with an intense gaze even you couldn't quite read. "Thank you," he said so softly you almost missed it.
Your Dean nodded his understanding. You realized it really was different for the two of them than it was for you. They were the same man five years apart...they understood each other's thoughts and emotions in a way you never could.
Before you could say anything else, Cas returned with Risa and a couple other people in tow. Risa gave both Deans an odd look before turning her dark gaze to you. You couldn't read her expression, but you felt the jealousy coming off her in waves.
"Well this is about to be uncomfortable," you murmured to your Dean, who just chuckled.
Everyone sat down around the table except for both Deans and yourself. You stood beside your Dean, and you both stood slightly back to give yourselves room to observe everyone.
Risa glared at Future Dean so intensely it made everyone uncomfortable. He gave her a confused look and simply asked, "Why are you pissed at me?"
"Something about you having a connection, but then spending the night in another chick's cabin," your Dean quipped.
You snickered softly, as did Cas. Future Dean shot a glare your way, but you simply shrugged.
"Plus your dead wife is magically not dead, so yeah, I feel some kinda way," Risa grumbled.
"The (Y/N) some of you knew is dead. This one is from 2009--same as him," Future Dean said, gesturing to your Dean. "Now that we've got that out of the way, can we please focus?"
No one dared argue with him.
Future Dean launched into his spiel about killing the devil, revealing the Colt to the other people in the room.
"How do you know it's gonna work?" Risa asked skeptically.
"It's all we've got," Future Dean answered. "We got Lucifer's location from that demon we captured last week. We know where he's gonna be for the first time in years."
"The demon might have lied for all you know," Risa snapped.
"Trust me, he was honest."
Castiel leaned towards Risa. "Dean is very well-versed in the art of getting to the truth."
You inhaled sharply, immediately understanding Castiel's meaning. Your Dean stiffened beside you and you felt the quiet rage simmering beneath the surface.
"Seriously? You went back to torture?" your Dean said angrily.
Future Dean looked at you, a resigned look of sadness on his face. You sighed and placed your hand on your Dean's arm and murmured, "Let it go, Dean."
He caught Future Dean's expression and fell silent again. There was no use arguing about his tactics now.
"Now," Future Dean said as he gestured to the map on the table. "We'll be heading in here."
"That's a hot zone," Cas said. "It's filled with Croats and demons--kinda reckless to just go barging in there don't you think?"
"Are you coming or not?" Future Dean asked, ignoring Cas's objections.
"Of course," Cas responded. "I've gotta ask though, why are they coming?" He nodded his head towards you and your Dean.
"I don't answer to you. Just know that they are coming."
Castiel put his hands up in surrender.
"Why don't you all go get supplies ready and recruit a couple more people," you suggested.
Future Dean nodded his agreement and the others left, leaving you and the Deans alone.
"Now why don't you try that again, but give an honest answer this time," you said sternly, eyes boring into Future Dean's face.
He sighed wearily. "I want you both to see what happened to Sam. Especially you." He pointed to the younger version of himself.
"What do you mean?" your Dean asked. "You said he died in Detroit."
"No, I didn't. I said he didn't make it out."
You exhaled sharply, heart nearly breaking as you realized what he was saying.
Future Dean fixed his gaze on you and you knew your assumption was correct. You instinctively reached out to your Dean in an attempt to ground him--you knew exactly how this information would affect him.
"What's going on?" your Dean asked, looking between you and his doppelgänger.
"He said yes," you whispered.
Future Dean nodded, but your Dean simply looked confused.
"The big yes," Future Dean said tiredly. "Lucifer wore him to the prom."
You gave your Dean a sad look. A flash of pain crossed his handsome features and your heart broke for him. You'd told him back in your time that he needed to forgive Sam--needed to mend their relationship. You didn't realize just how important that mending would be.
"He wouldn't do that," your Dean whispered.
You placed a comforting hand on his arm, but didn't bother to contradict him.
"Well he did," Future Dean snapped. "And when you go back, you need to say 'yes' to Michael. Immediately."
"Absolutely not!" you gasped.
Now it was Dean's turn to comfort you, his hand coming to rest on yours. "She's right. A showdown between Michael and Lucifer would torch half the planet."
"Half a planet is better than no planet," Future Dean insisted.
"If it's such a good idea, why didn't you say yes?" your Dean asked.
"Oh trust me, I tried. But by the time I was ready, the angels had given up and fucked off to wherever they are now."
"There has to be another way," your Dean whispered.
Future Dean fixed you with an expression that made everything clear to you.
"That's why you want me to leave," you began softly. "You know I would never approve of him saying yes to Michael. If I'm not around to influence him, then maybe he'll be foolish enough to say 'yes', right?"
Your Dean looked confused, but Future Dean held your gaze and you knew you were right.
"I really don't want you to die," he said gently. "But I also know exactly what you'll say...and I know the impact your words will have on my choices. Because I already made them."
"You told her to leave me?" your Dean asked slowly. "Even knowing what that'll do to me?"
"You'll both be better off."
"You don't get to make that call," you snapped.
Future Dean sighed and shook his head. "You'll both make your own decisions, but I just want you to have all the facts. Gear up. We move out in 20." With that he walked out the door, leaving you and your Dean alone.
"What if he's right?"
"About saying yes to Michael?" you asked in surprise.
Dean shook his head. "About it being better for you to leave."
You sighed quietly. "He's wrong...about all of it."
"I've seen what losing you did to me--to him...and I'm not sure that's something I can voluntarily experience."
You smiled. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure you never have to."
Dean returned the smile and pulled you in closely. "I love you, (Y/N)."
"I love you too, Dean Winchester. Always."
**********
You were sitting in the backseat of the truck, listening to Cas tell your Dean about becoming human. It was weird for you to see Cas like this, hell he was driving. It was even harder to see how broken he had become and it only made you want to prevent this future even more.
You closed your eyes, desperate to fall asleep--to leave this fucked up, burned out world behind. You wanted to go home--to 2009. There was still time to change the future, to stop any of this from happening. You would give anything to stop it.
You must have fallen asleep because you were awoken by the gentle sound of your Dean's voice telling you it was time to wake up. You opened your eyes, surprised to see it was now light out.
"We're here, baby," he said softly.
You sighed deeply and nodded. You dragged yourself out of the truck and gathered your weapons along with the rest of the group. Your senses immediately told you something was off and one glance at your Dean told you he felt the same.
"Didn't you say this is a hot zone?" you asked Cas softly.
The former angel nodded.
"Then where are all the Croats?"
"Must be in another part of the city," he responded.
You and Dean exchanged a look, neither one of you believing his response.
Nevertheless, you followed the group, searching the rundown city for the building you were going to raid. When you found it, all of your hunter instincts screamed that something was wrong, but this time you weren't the first to voice it.
"Shouldn't there be a shit load of demons out here?" your Dean asked.
Future Dean shrugged. "They must all be inside."
His answer didn't satisfy you one bit, but you kept your mouth shut, choosing instead to observe him closely. The only person who knew Dean better than you was the man himself, which was proven moments later.
"Alright," Future Dean started. "You guys go in through the second story window. The three of us will sneak around back."
Risa looked more than a little concerned with the game plan. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
She glanced over at Cas, who clearly agreed with her worry.
"Trust me, okay? They'll never see us coming," Future Dean assured them.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" your Dean said firmly, his words more a statement than a question.
Future Dean sighed, but stepped off to the side to speak with the two of you.
"You're lying to them," your Dean said lowly. "Don't deny it--I know your lying expressions, I've seen them in the mirror."
Future Dean sighed in annoyance and your Dean threatened to tell the team about his concerns, but Future Dean stopped him.
"I know it's a trap, alright? I'm not an idiot. They'll go in the front door and create a distraction while I sneak around the back."
"You're sacrificing your team?" you asked incredulously.
"They're your friends! And Cas? Come on, man--this isn't you," your Dean added.
"My inability to make the tough decisions is what got us here in the first place. Look around you--this is the end of everything," Future Dean growled. "It's my job to kill Lucifer and save what's left of this planet, so that's what I'm going to do."
"I can't let you do that," your Dean argued.
Instead of engaging in further discussion, Future Dean jabbed the butt of his gun into your Dean's head, knocking him unconscious instantly.
"Dean!" you yelled, unsure if you were calling for yours or yelling at the Future version.
"I have to do this, (Y/N)," he said softly. "I need you to understand."
Tears welled in your eyes. "I understand why you believe that, but I don't agree. It's not who you are, Dean...the man I fell in love with would never sacrifice the people he loves--not for anything."
Future Dean looked down at the ground in silence. When he lifted his head again, his face was hard--a mask of non-emotion.
"I'm doing what needs to be done," he said firmly. "Stay with him and stay out of the way."
You wanted to reason with him, but you knew there was no point in trying. Yes, he was still Dean, but you knew you would never be able to change his mind. He'd made his choices and he'd had to live with them. Now, he was just trying to make up for all the mistakes he believed he'd made.
"Go," you whispered.
He nodded and moved back to join the others. You watched everyone but Dean head to the front of the building, a feeling of sorrow weighing on your heart.
"Dean," you called softly, prompting him to turn to look at you. "Don't die."
He gave you the smallest of smiles and nodded before running towards the back of the building.
You dropped to your knees and shook your Dean firmly. "Dean, wake up!"
After a few minutes, he groaned and his eyes fluttered open. "Fuck," he mumbled.
"Hey!" You helped him into a sitting position. "You okay?"
"My head's killing me."
"He hit you pretty hard," you said gently.
The sound of gunfire urged him to his feet. "We gotta go."
You nodded and let him grab your hand as the two of you ran to the back of the building. You arrived to a terrifying scene--Future Dean was lying on the ground and a man in a white suit stood above him, his foot firmly on Dean's neck.
Future Dean made eye contact with you seconds before his neck snapped and the life left his face.
"No!" you screamed.
Your Dean grabbed you, pulling you back to keep you from rushing forward. Watching Dean die felt like having your own heart ripped out of your chest--it was a feeling you hoped you'd never have to relive.
The man turned around in surprise and your breath caught in your chest. Objectively, you'd known it was Lucifer--you'd known he'd be in Sam's body--but there was nothing quite like seeing it in person.
Dean instinctively pushed you behind him, putting his body protectively in front of yours.
"Dean, (Y/N)," Lucifer greeted calmly. "It's a surprise to see you here--especially since I killed you three years ago and well..." he looked down at Future Dean's body with a nonchalant shrug. "It must be a shock to see your brother like this."
"Why don't you just kill me now and get it over with?" Dean asked angrily.
"Well that would be redundant. I'll kill your lovely wife three years before I kill you," he said simply. "We will always end up here, Dean. This is the way our story ends."
"Deep-frying the planet and murdering billions of people? What a shitty story," Dean snapped.
Lucifer started to rant about loving God too much and being punished for it...but you'd stopped listening. You could feel the pain rolling off your sweet Dean in waves. You knew what he was thinking--he'd failed his brother and in doing so, destroyed the world.
"I'm not falling for that sympathy-for-the-devil crap!" Dean yelled, pulling you back to the present. "The only difference between you and the monsters I've hunted my whole life is the size of your ego."
If the situation had been different, you probably would have laughed. Dean's fearlessness was something you both loved and admired about him. What's more, you agreed with his sentiment.
Lucifer simply smiled. "I like you, Dean. I can see what the other angels see in you." His gaze landed on you and you felt the rage boiling under your skin. "No hard feelings, (Y/N). Your death was a means to an end--it broke what little humanity your precious Dean had left in him. It's what led us to this moment."
Lucifer turned to walk away, but Dean called after him. "You better kill me now or I won't stop until I find a way to kill you."
Lucifer's smile was cruel. "I know you'll try Dean, but I also know you'll never say 'yes' to Michael, and you'll never kill Sam. No matter what choices you make or details you change, your wife will die in 2011 and you and I will always end up right here."
"You're wrong," Dean whispered, eyes filling with pained tears.
You touched his arm gently, reminding him he wasn't alone. He leaned into your touch, but remained steadfastly in front of you--guarding you with every ounce of strength he had.
"I'll see you in two years, (Y/N)," Lucifer said with a condescending smile. "And I'll see you in five, Dean."
Before either of you could say a word, Lucifer vanished, leaving the two of you alone.
"Dean..." you whispered softly.
He turned to you, his expression full of agony. You reached for him just as Zachariah appeared and placed a hand against each of your foreheads, zapping you back to the hotel room in Kansas City, circa 2009.
Both of you turned to face the offending angel, anger your primary emotion in the moment.
"Now you know what's going to happen," Zachariah said, cutting off any rant either of you could start. "Your only option is to say 'yes' to Michael, otherwise billions of people are going to die."
"How do we know that wasn't just another one of your tricks?" you snapped.
"The time for tricks is over," Zachariah stated. "Saying 'yes' to Michael is the only way you can save the world--save (Y/N)--save your brother.
Dean turned to you, his face full of anguish. It made your heart clench in your chest and you worried for a moment he'd changed his mind.
"Nah," Dean said to Zachariah, jaw set in a firm line.
You smirked a little, watching Zachariah's facial expression turn to shock.
"Are you telling me you haven't learned your lesson?"
"Oh I learned my lesson," Dean countered. "Just not the one you wanted to teach me."
Zachariah stepped towards Dean menacingly. You instinctively stepped forward, more than willing to fight the angel to protect the man you loved. Dean placed a gentle hand on yours to let you know he wasn't scared.
"I have you exactly where I want you," Zachariah began. "I'm going to teach both of you a lesson until you get it through your thick skulls. Neither of you are going anywhere until you say 'yes'."
Dean's grip on your hand tightened and his mouth opened to give some sort of retort when you suddenly found yourself standing on the side of a highway. Dean's hand was still wrapped tightly around yours and a slightly confused Castiel stood a few feet in front of you.
"Excellent timing, Cas," Dean said in relief.
"We had an appointment," Cas stated matter-of-factly.
You chuckled softly and stepped forward to wrap the angel in a hug. He was slightly surprised by your actions, but he didn't pull away.
Dean placed a firm hand on Castiel's shoulder and offered him another smile. "Don't ever change."
You and Dean launched into the story of the last few days for you, and Castiel listened quietly.
"How did Zachariah find you?"
"Long story," Dean muttered. "But let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses in the future."
You chuckled again and rolled your eyes affectionately.
Dean pulled out his phone and started to dial a number.
"What are you doing?" Cas asked.
"Something I should have done in the first place."
You smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing...and who he was calling. You were proud of him and you voiced the sentiment as soon as you were alone.
"Thanks, babe. Turns out you were right all along."
You grinned. "I'm always right."
Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Alright sweetheart, calm down." His voice was light and teasing and it warmed you straight down to your soul.
"I love you, you dork."
He smiled and squeezed your hand. "I love you too."
You were both quiet for several minutes, just watching the road as Dean sped towards your next destination.
"It's still the apocalypse," Dean said suddenly.
"Mhmm," you hummed quietly.
"So you know...the world might still end."
"Hopefully not."
"Agreed, but I'm thinking maybe we should get married."
"What?" you said in shock.
Dean shrugged. "I'm just saying...you're my everything and I want everyone to know you're mine. Besides, if this world really does end, there's no one I wanna be with but you."
"You know, normally the guy gets down on one knee."
Dean chuckled. "I can do that as soon as I stop the car."
You laughed. "Typically there's a ring too."
He grinned. "Don't worry baby--I'll buy you a big diamond ring."
You smiled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. "I don't really need a ring, Dean--and I don't need you to get down on one knee. If you're serious about it, then hell yeah--let's get married."
Dean looked at you hopefully. "I'm dead serious, babe."
You touched his cheek with a smile. "Then let's get married."
He looked at the straight stretch of road ahead, not a car in sight. He leaned over and kissed you quickly, the affectionate gesture expressing his emotions better than any words he could have said.
When he pulled back to face the road, you leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. Your voice was low as you said the words that had become a mantra in your relationship, "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."
His smile warmed your entire body--inside and out. It had been weird hearing Future Dean call you his wife...but your Dean proposing to you now, it just felt right.
You rode the rest of the way in a happier mood than you'd felt in a long time. Dean's mood was lighter too, but you both knew it wouldn't last. There was still a lot of darkness to come, but you were both determined to make sure there were happy moments. After all, love was one of the things that made life worth living.
A short time later, you sat on the trunk of the Impala, watching the man you loved apologize to his brother. You smiled warmly as you watched them, overjoyed at the steps they were both taking to make amends.
Dean turned towards you and waved you over. You hopped down and crossed the short distance, passing Dean to wrap Sam in a tight hug. The much larger man returned the gesture, the tension easing from his body.
"Glad to have you back, Sammy," you said as you stepped back.
"Thanks, (Y/N/N)."
"We're getting married," Dean said suddenly.
Sam's eyes widened in shock and you nearly laughed at Dean's sudden admission.
"End of the world and all that," Dean said sheepishly.
You chuckled and Sam expressed his congratulations.
"No matter what happens," you said softly. "We have each other--all three of us."
Both Winchesters nodded their agreement and Dean slipped his arm around you to pull you close.
"To hell with fate," Dean stated. "From now on, we make our own future."
You leaned into him with a smile, appreciating the sentiment more than you would have just a few days prior. At the end of the day, all you had was each other and the love that bonded all of you together. None of you knew exactly what the future held, but you'd be damned if you didn't fight for a future worth living for.
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seeminglyranch87 · 2 months
Text
Taylor & Travis Timeline
August 2024 - Part 1
"salt air and the rust on your door, I never needed anything more" August, T. Swift
August 1 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo. | Day 10
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Travis awarded 99 Madden rating
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The Eras Tour, PGE Narodowy, Warsaw, Poland N1
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Mirrorball x Clara Bow (guitar) & Suburban Legends x New Years Day (piano)
August 2 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 11
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The Eras Tour, PGE Narodowy, Warsaw, Poland N2
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I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) x I Can See You (guitar) & Red x Maroon (piano)
Travis Kelce is ranked #9 top player of the NFL 2024. Travis is the best tight end in the National Football League (x) Chiefs quarter back Patrick Mahomes ranked #4 and defensive tackle Chris Jones ranked #6.
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Engagement rumours are swirling, Page Six run article (x) with conflicting information ...
A Kelce insider told us the Kansas City Chiefs star has a plan in place to get on bended knee — and put an end to speculation about the couple’s future.  “The engagement is happening soon,” the insider said. Meanwhile, Kelce’s rep denied Friday that there are any official engagement plans in place.
On Thursday night at a Kansas City concert by country star Morgan Wallen, we hear that the wife of a top Chiefs exec was overheard telling pals in a suite that the team’s famed tight end and Swift are already engaged.
August 3 - The Eras Tour, PGE Narodowy, Warsaw, Poland N3
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Today Was A Fairytale x I Think He Knows (guitar) & The Black Dog x Exile (piano)
"Today was a fairytale, I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows. I think he knows, today was a fairytale"
Taylor is spotted rubbing her ring finger on her left hand during her Lover speech. Where is the ring Taylor 💍 ??? You know she wants to show us!!!
Travis attends Morgan Wallen concert at Arrowhead Stadium, KC. Travis and Patrick Mahomes walk out on stage with Morgan Wallen.
August 4,5,6,7 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 12-15
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Taylor Swift is nominated for 10 VMA's. Time to get voting
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August 8, 9, 10 - The Eras Tour, Ernst-Happel-Stadion, Vienna, Austria. Shows cancelled due to planned terrorist attack 😞
August 9 - Travis Kelce arrives in Jacksonville, Florida ahead of first NFL preseason game (x)
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August 10 - Chiefs v Jaguars, NFL preseason game, Jacksonville, Florida. Chiefs defeated by Jaguars 13 - 26
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Go to previous update -> July 2024 part 3
Go to next update -> August 2024 part 2
Return to the timeline
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shinygoku · 6 months
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Beatles for Sale (1964)
What happens when you've used up an album's worth of original compositions and your schedule has been absolutely jam packed? If you're this band, ya release another album, naturally!
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I'm a sucker for the Autumnal Aesthetic but these lads were not having a jolly time amongst gilded leaves! Featuring George's hair at peak Onion.
This one is infamously very Cover heavy, but does that really make it one of the weakest instalments? I've liked some'a their covers a lot, though the originals often outrank them with good reason. Let's see how the mixture here fares~
SIDE ONE
No Reply: It may reference that archaic device known to older people as a Telephone, but this number is shockingly timeless all the same! A jaunty song about a relationship that has either fizzled out, or the POV character has been cucked without a formal breakup. Even though it is about ghosting and resentment, it's got a great rhythm and energy to it, plus I'm also very fond of the "Your Face" version from the Anthology uploads.
I'm a Loser: Another oddly catchy song given the introspection and distinctly downbeat subject. There's something about how fun the music becomes at the chorus, peak juxtaposition~ Harmonica makes a bold return, too! It's one of the most dance-able depression songs so far!
Baby's in Black: A clear narrative is stated here, of the Singer lamenting that the object of his affections is busy grieving over someone else. I get the impression that the mourning is in fact literal, that the other beau is dead and buried, and that we ain't s'posed to side with the Main Character for being a self-centred berk about it (but some of the AHDN songs plant a seed of doubt for the Irony take, given how there's spite and selfishness in those...!). Anyway, the song itself is serviceable but not as notable as the prev numbers.
Rock and Roll Music: Ah, our first cover! It's good and well played but I don't think our lads really bring anything to the table that the Chuck Berry didn't already provide. I listened to that right after and neither version lights a fire in me.
I'll Follow the Sun: This has a very nice, mellow sound to it, but it has a bit of the snag I found on AHDN's 2nd side; that it seems to be a "You're gonna regret this" song. The reoccurring "But Tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the Sun" sounds optimistic and hopeful but when it's surrounded by the passive aggressive sentiment... I will say it's possible I've got the wrong end of the stick [The prev album was an Experience lmao], but it does seem telling that this original number is like, never Iconic lol
Mr. Moonlight: MISTAAAAAAHHHHHH. Another cover but idk the original. Sounds a little more gay than normal, if they're gonna personify The Moon as a guy and declare their love for him :v
Kansas City / Hey Hey Hey Hey: I have a slight dislike of this just cause it took me longer to write the title out. So it's a cover, but of 2 songs mashed together? Paul is bringing his impression of a deeper voice and the instrumentation is very nice but eehhhh. It's not one I'm gonna go back to lmao
SIDE TWO
8 Days a Week: Finally some good fucking food!! A much needed injection of cheer, and while it seems the Bugs themselves didn't think that much of it sometimes a simple sweet song is a nice thing to boogie to.
Words of Love: Ah, Buddy Holly? Their idol and main reason for the Beatle moniker? Seems to be a decent cover of one of his numbers, while there ain't many lyrics the guitar and drums are very nice, though I could do without the clapping.
Honey Don't: Ringo's vocal return since With The Beatles! This song doesn't do much for me but the little flourishes thrown in like "Rock on George, for Ringo one time!" and fab guitar work have me smiling~
Every Little Thing: Annoyingly my brain keeps autofilling 'she does is magic' and then I find it harder to remember how this one sounds. But it's actually a stronger song on this here album, another Actually Pleasant one! The timpani has such a dramatic presence but for once I'm not concerned about the girl's safety like I am in other ones lmao
I Don't Want to Spoil the Party: This sad song is set to another jaunty rhythm that kicks into a higher gear for the bridge... hmm, seems to be the main thesis of this album, innit! Kudos for this POV feller to at least try being a bit more self aware. This ends a little bit abruptly, which makes it another shade different to I'm A Loser.
What You're Doing: "Oh babe you've crossed me and I'm gonna make a big deal about it in song form" song. I've heard lotsa these on this and the prev album!! But while I'm repeating the same sentiments about them doing that, I looove the guitar and drum work on this very mid lyrical assortment.
Everybody's Trying to be My Baby: Another tedious title! Another cover, too. George's only vocal on this one and I don't think it's great. I do like Rock and or Roll but the ones this album uses don't make a strong impression on me. Guitar good.
CONCLUSION
Best 3: No Reply, I'm a Loser, 8 Days a Week
Blurst 3: Kansas City/Hey [x4], What You're Doing, Everybody's [...] Baby
Overall Quality?: It took the 2nd side of the record for the first original song on the album to be energetic and sincere without slightly concealed bad vibes! That's pretty dang indicative of what the Burnout Album has to offer. There's a fair bit of mildly good Rock 'n' Roll, lotsa great instrument playing, but man oh man this isn't a Good Time Had By All.
But I must make clear that the good songs, are great! And some of the miseryfests are still catchy lol. Before I listened to all the songs I was ready to bat for this being an underrated gem, but hmmm, no actually it is a weak one. But I can give them the benefit of Early[ish] Day Feet Finding + HUGE MASSIVE PRESSURE being why it's a bit on the limp side. I felt more disappointed in A Hard Day's Night side 2 than with this, though my "C'mon dudes" reasoning is pretty much the same, and this has more Mid Covers.
🪲🪲🪲🪲
Well, after an underwhelming release like that and yet their fame continues to balloon bigger and bigger, would it be fair to say the Beatles needed Help!? ;3c
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zmediaoutlet · 2 years
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Oh no. Now I need to hear about deanna/benny + sam.
Deanna has to pull over so Sam can puke. It's not one of his banner moments.
"Jesus," she mutters, not loud but loud enough he can hear it over his heaving, and there's a small hand on his back, heavy through his coat. "Yeah, you're just fine. You want me to hold your hair?"
He works his jaw. Spits. No blood; that's something. Dark forest night -- they haven't even made it out of the Hundred Mile Wilderness. He drags a hand over his mouth. His head hurts. Deanna makes some impatient sound and lets off the brake -- the car lurches forward a yard, two -- and the mess is left behind, back on the mossy verge, before she turns the key and the engine-noise cuts and all that's left is the night, silent after the roar of a V-8, damp, dark.
Sam swivels on the bench, sits with his bootheels out on the dirt. Creak of the car door. The trunk, and then -- his sister, crouching in front of him, holding out a water bottle. "I ain't driving all the way back to Kansas with hork-breath," she says. Crass as always; as always, softer than she seems. Though lately it's hard to tell where the line is. "What'd you eat, anyway?"
There's no answer so Sam doesn't answer. He sips at the water, careful, knowing from that bout of food poisoning in Altoona how a splash on a frail stomach can set the whole thing going again. It tastes stale -- when was the last time they refreshed their road stash, since they moved into the bunker? -- but it's clean, and clean's all that matters. He swallows, and breathes slow and deep, and Deanna pushes the hair back from his face, tips his chin up, trying to see him in the moonlight. He lets her. She's less grabby now than she was when she first got back from Purgatory. Downright solicitous, sometimes. He didn't know he could miss it. How demanding she'd be.
"You look like crap," she says.
"Thanks," Sam says, and Deanna's eyebrows lift. Sam shrugs. "I'm fine."
Her eyes narrow, and then slide very deliberately to the left. "That your stomach lining all over the dirt there?"
"Dee," Sam says, and she presses her lips together. The cabin light shines from over his shoulder, makes her all gold-and-amber, brown leather, her hair a shining thick wave over one shoulder. No necklace but he's mostly, sort of, used to that at this point. Mostly. Her shirt's unbuttoned about to her navel, like always, and there's a dark spot -- he reaches, not thinking, but she holds still as he pushes the collar of her jacket back, moves the shadow, and there, on the camisole, in the gap the plaid doesn't cover. Blood.
"Oh," she says. Softer than he'd thought. "That's --"
Her fingers go to it, quick. Hiding even though it's already been seen. Her mouth tips, sorry, and Sam says, "Benny," which is stupid, because of course it's Benny's. Of course. Even if he feels like his insides are slowly scrambling into a thick shredded mulch he should know better.
"Decapitation makes a mess," Deanna says, high and light, and she stands up, but Sam's still all scrambled inside and he reaches out and takes her hand, which he doesn't much do anymore. Maybe Deanna's scrambled, too, because she lets him keep it, which she doesn't much do anymore either, and leans against the door to boot, her head tipped down, her fingers cold but warming against Sam's skin.
She'd been angry at him, for Amelia. More than angry. This frigid, to-the-bone fury, that froze any attempt at explanation of those terrifying lonely lost days when she was gone and there were no avenues to find her. Sam knows he was being punished on several fronts -- that he'd left her in Purgatory, that he'd stopped hunting. Amelia was a specific target and Sam got it, in a way, but it wasn't fair -- it wasn't, especially when they'd both been alone before and done what they had to survive. And then, when he found out about Benny --
"Where'd you bury him?" he says.
Deanna's wrist twists. Sam doesn't let her go. "Somewhere safe," she says. Sam looks up; she's looking off into the woods, jaw squared. "Don't want anyone getting to him."
"I won't," Sam says.
"This from the guy who socked him in the face the first time you met," Deanna says, dry, and Sam says, more firmly, "Dee," and then, softer: "I won't. I swear."
She closes her eyes and leans back against the car. The punch wasn't fair. It had been a long and annoying day and Sam had been out of his mind worrying about her and then to get down to that dock and see that she'd been -- and not just with some other guy, but that other guy being a monster, with all the barbed comments she'd made about his taste in women for all those years -- okay, so it hadn't been Sam at his best. He's never done all that well with rivals. Sam had wanted to punch him again, when he showed up smirking in Purgatory, but Deanna had chosen to stay with Sam, after all, and anyway it would've been beyond wrong to bring up any kind of competition in front of Bobby, and after all -- Benny had saved them, in the end. Sam knows for a fact it wasn't for his own sake. He wonders, now, what Deanna had said. How she'd asked. It hardly matters. Sam knows his sister. He knows why Benny said yes.
There's a streak on Deanna's jaw, shining in the thin light. Sam runs his thumb over the back of her knuckles. "Sorry," he says, and hopes it means everything he wants it to. Knows it can't. That it's not even close to enough.
She squeezes his fingers. He watches her lick her lips, and tip her head back and blink at the moon, and then scrub the knuckles of her other hand quick over her jaw. "No worries," she says, "you didn't get it on the upholstery," quick and rough and easy.
Sam sighs, and nods. "Let's get a motel," he says, and lets her hand go. "I need a shower."
"Oh, tell me about it," Dee says, but before Sam can close his door she ducks down and tucks his hair back from his temples and presses a soft, full kiss against his cheekbone, in a way that could be sisterly except for how she breathes warm and sweet against his jaw, and lets her fingers trail down to his throat, and for how she smells -- like everything Sam wants, or has wanted, or will. She hangs there, close, and Sam touches her chest, and he feels how she takes a deep, steadying breath, before she lifts away, and says, "If we stop for burgers in Bangor, you going to hurl them all over the 95?" and Sam tips his head back against the seat and says -- he doesn't know what, something, because she's back in the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life, and he thinks, somewhere very private where prayers come from, thank you. On that strange grey plane it probably can't be heard, but Benny brought them back together, twice. Sam puts everything else away, and turns his head, and watches his sister drive. Thank you, he thinks, again, and he means it.
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wisenedup · 6 years
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@brokebxckcowboys || boop
    “ — I won’t ask again. Who are you? You’re awfully close to my friends and I’s camp, buddy. And you don’t want trouble with us. Now, come on out of the shadows so I can see who you are, and maybe we won’t have to have any trouble after all. ”
Charles calls out, gun in hand. He’d been the one on guard this evening, and he’d heard shuffling in the grass, immediately drawing his weapon to confront whoever was there.
At first, he’d hoped it was Arthur. Arthur always took a moment to respond, but then Charles recalled that for once, Arthur was already in camp, so this was likely a stranger.
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Shit, shit shit shit shit. Bill had no idea where he was. - Okay, that was a lie. He had some inkling, but even considering it sounded as insane as so many people liked to accuse him of being.         His heart pounded in his ears and his chest tightened with anxiety. This was bad. This was very, incredibly bad. Whoever was out there meant business and Bill couldn’t entirely tell where they were. Worse than that, he’d stashed his guns way up in some tree with his backpack. All he had was his kukri, and that wouldn’t help him if this guard was armed.          He weighed the option of backing up, going the way he came... but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk getting shot through the underbrush. Of course, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk being seen in his things. If he wasn’t insane, and he was right about when where he was... that could be very, very bad. He swore as he realized that he should have left his fanny pack and his vest with his other things.          “Fuck me,” he hissed, before raising his voice, “Okay! Okay, I’m c’min’ out! Don’t shoot-”          Keeping his hands up, Bill stepped cautiously into the open, heart thundering against the inside of his chest as fear chilled him. He was so screwed.
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The fact that some people are still so determined to give Austin the benefit of the doubt despite all the evidence but automatically believe the V/Anthony just bc some random person from Kansas pulled it out of their ass is hysterical to me.
People like to villanise women yet show multiple proof of Asstin cheating and we still need to give him the benefit of doubt. Scrawny,dirty men y'll simp after ain't that special.
Neither of you have told (1) single lie ☕️
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nbcnews05 · 2 years
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NBA Leader: 18.2 PPG 227's YouTube Chili' Andrew Chili' Wiggins 18.2 PPG 4.3 RPG 2.1 APG #DubNation Spicy' https://www.nike.com/w/golden-state-warriors-99c57 jamaalaldin_tv https://www.youtube.com/jamaalaldintv #Kansas #Jayhawks on being compared to LeBron James: "Ain't nobody gonna be the next LeBron" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQ2CQP-162A&utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr kia.com/us/en
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msnbcnews05 · 2 years
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NBA Leader: 18.2 PPG 227's YouTube Chili' Andrew Chili' Wiggins 18.2 PPG 4.3 RPG 2.1 APG #DubNation Spicy' https://www.nike.com/w/golden-state-warriors-99c57 jamaalaldin_tv https://www.youtube.com/jamaalaldintv #Kansas #Jayhawks on being compared to LeBron James: "Ain't nobody gonna be the next LeBron" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQ2CQP-162A&utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr kia.com/us/en
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wisenedup · 6 years
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@anotherbadman || boop
“Ah, shut your mouth,” Arthur tutted lightly, pushing past Bill so he needn’t see that heavy gaze on him any longer, though he could still feel it boring into his back. “I got eyes, boy.” As if that were explanation enough, enough perhaps at least to satisfy Bill’s teasing or whatever this was. Maybe trying to be kind as misguided as it was.
He scoffed, shifting his weight so he could keep an eye on Arthur.         “Well, maybe you need glasses, boy.”
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wisenedup · 6 years
Text
the longest open starter in the history of open starters, bear w me
“Who wants to hear a story?” Bill called out, sitting at the campfire with a bowl of stew. He picked at his stew, reassuring everyone as they settled in that it was a long story, so they should get comfortable.        “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Everyone comfy? Good.        “A man is... riding down a road one night when his horse throws a shoe, not far from a monastery. The sun is beginning t’ set, an’ he knows that his horse will not make it far, so he approaches the monastery.        “A monk opens th’ door when he knocks and th’ rider says, ‘My horse has thrown a shoe. Do you think I could stay the night?’        "The monks graciously accept him, bringing him and his horse inside, feeding both of them, and they even reshoe his horse.” Holding up his hand, Bill took a few bites of his stew. “Now- as th’ rider is on his way t’ the bedroom they’ve given him, he passes a wooden door. It’s ornate- th’ most ornate door he’s seen in this place, and it gives him pause.”        He paused, finishing off his stew and setting it aside.
       “So th’ rider’s standing there, admirin’ this door, wondering about it, and is about t’ head on to his room when he hears a strange sound from beyond th’ door. Now- it’s’a sound unlike anything he's ever heard before- his mind flashes t’ th’ Sirens that nearly seduced Odysseus into crashing his ship, all those years ago. He can’t imagine what in th’ world made that sound, but it calls t’ him- calls t’ somethin’ deep in him that just needs ‘n answer.        “That night, he can’t get t’ sleep. He doesn’t hear it again, but he spends th’ whole night tossin’ and turnin’- trying t’ figure out what could possibly be making such a seductive, unshakeable sound.” Jack has nodded off, and Bill pauses as Abigail carries him off to bed, as everyone says their goodnights to her.        “Next morning, the first thing ‘e does is ask the monks what th’ hell that sound was, what is behind the ornate door. They only say, ‘We can not tell you. You are not a monk.’ Distraught, the man is forced to leave. He is grateful fer their kindness, and wants t’ know what made that sound, what’s b’hind that pretty door, but he has somewhere t’be.        “Years later and th’ rider is still thinkin’ about that sound. It has haunted his dreams, absorbed his waking thoughts.        “What,” Bill leaned in, shaking his spoon. “Is behind that door? What made that sound?        “He can still hear it, clear as day, but he just cannot figure it out. So, ‘e goes back to th’ monastery, and he knocks, and he pleads fer the answer again.        “Again, th’ monks reply, 'We cannot tell you. You are not a monk.’        “So th’ rider says, ‘If becoming a monk is th’ only way to find out what’s making that beautiful sound, then please, make me a monk. I want to know what’s behind that door.’        "The monks tell ‘im, ‘You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are in the ground, and the exact number of grains of sand. Once you find these answers and return here, you will have become a monk.’        "Unable to think of anything else, now, th’ rider sets about his task. He travels th’ globe, roaming each continent, visitin’ every country, all the time, counting.        “After years of searching, of dreaming of that sound, th’ rider returns t’ the monastery as a gray-haired old man, all wrinkles and arthritis, and he knocks on the door.         “A monk answers. Th’ rider is taken before a counsel of all th’ other monks to give his answer.” Bill cleared his throat and bent over, like wizened man leaning upon a cane, and gives his voice a convincing tremble.         “’In my quest to find what behind that ornate door that beautiful sound, I have traveled the length and breadth of earth, and I have found what you asked for:        “’By design, the world is in a state of perpetual change. Only God knows what you ask. All that a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and is willing to strip away self deception.’” He straightened back up, trying not to grin.        "The monks smile and tell ‘im, ‘Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound.’        "But before they do, they initiate him into the monastery. There’s a modest ceremony; he chooses a new name; he is given his robes, and a new bedroom. He grows impatient, but knows that th’ answer is near. He cannot sleep that night, dwelling on the first night here, the twist of fate that landed him on this doorstep. He thinks of all th’ years he has spent, reaching this place. He finally sleeps, early in the morning, knowing that the answer is near.”         He paused for some water, his eyes glittering in the firelight as at least a couple of his audience shifted impatiently.        “When he wakes, he has breakfast with his new brothers. A modest feast, a warm welcome.         “Once he finishes, one of th’ monks leads him to that wooden door, as ornate and as beautiful as he remembers. There, th’ head monk says, ‘The sound is beyond that door.’ The sound trickles through the hall, as if punctuating his sentence.          “’How do I open it?’ th’ new monk asks.         “Th’ head monk hands him a wooden key. He takes it, and opens th’ door- and finds one made of stone. Red, rich stone like fresh clay.         “’How do I open this one?’ he asks, and receives a stone key.         “Behind th’ stone door is one of ruby, opened by a key of ruby, and then a door of gold, gold key- you get th’ pattern. As he’s doin’ this, he hears that sound again, from time t’ time. It gets clearer with each door.           “This goes on ‘n’ on- silver door, emerald door, leather door. One door requires a pendant to be inserted and twisted, another he has t’ slide a block through a maze. He realizes th’ ground is slowly sloping downwards; they’re getting deeper int’ the earth.         “After ten minutes, there is a hallway of opened doors behind him- and at last he large chamber... but it’s empty. Nothin’ but stone walls, arching up t’ the ceiling.” He paused for another drink.         “Th’ sound has become very clear and definite, almost bone-shaking. Th’ rider looks at the monks, confused, but before he can speak, th’ head monk points at a small, beautiful, golden door at th’ far end of th’ room. It’s barely large enough fer a man t’ crawl through.         “The monks tell him hand him a tiny, golden key and tell him, ‘This is the last key to the last door. Behind it, you will see what makes that siren sound.’         "The rider is shaking by this point, apprehensive t’ no end. His life's wish is behind that door! For over fifty years, he’s been wondering at this sound. Now, he is about to find out.         “He takes th’ key and gets on his knees by the door. With trembling hands, he unlocks it, turns th’ knob, and slowly pushes the door open, almost scared t’ do it by now. His eyes widen and he falls t’ his hip, unable t’ keep his mouth closed as he finally lays eyes on th’ source of that haunting sound...         “....         “But I can’t tell you what it is, because you ain’t a monk!”
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wisenedup · 6 years
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Bill chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head.          “Listen, buddy,” he said, setting his rifle on it’s end. “You ain’t seen th’ monsters I have- trust me when I say I c’n handle myself. Lets just get going, a’rite?”
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wisenedup · 6 years
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@anotherbadman || boop
“Fat lotta good sitting by my bedside’s gonna do,” Arthur muttered, his voice tight with untold pain. It was a warning, letting him know he didn’t have to stay. It may have held a little more weight if a shiver wasn’t currently coursing through his bones, brow knotted and sweat slicked, drained of its once healthy glow.
“Go on.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Camp needs you, Dutch ain’t gonna let you use me as an excuse to sit on your ass for the whole goddamn week.”
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Worry chewed at him. If there was one thing he’d never been able to stand, it was seeing the people that he cared about in poor health. It was even worse given where- when- he currently was. At least back home he could make a last-ditch effort to search a hospital, a pharmacy, but here?       Bill sighed, leaning forward in his seat, elbows on his knees.        “You need me,” he pointed out firmly. “I’ve had my share’ve medical experience, and it’d make me a hell of a lot better, knowing I’m here if you need me, than bein’ somewhere else even if you turn out fine.” 
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wisenedup · 6 years
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@thearthurcallahan
Bill squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t know what the hell it was, but something nearby was squeaking, probably in the hot, wet breeze that kept rolling through the camp. He’d always hated the humidity. It made the heat suffocating and was like a gross, uncomfortable blanket all over his entire body.        He struggled to block out the sensations, unable to breathe. Every sound and smell and sight were driving him insane. The stink of whatever vegetables Pearson was putting in the stew was choking him; the wind in the trees, scattering the shade from the leaves, was making his vision spin and his eyes burn; the squeak was like something stabbing into his skull and clawing deep into his neck and shoulders, especially coupled with the shrill cry of some mystery bird.          His hand was flapping before he even realized it, almost like he was trying to shoo away a fly but there was nothing there, and his hand was going too fast.         “Fuck!” He stood sharply and the barrel he’d been sitting on went flying backwards, hitting the back of his legs. He swore again and punched the table, causing white hot pain to lance through his hand and up into his arm. “Goddamnit-”
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wisenedup · 6 years
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@anotherbadman || boop
The grubby hand at his mouth may not have had the intended effect, Arthur grunting in displeasure as he was yanked down and out of sight, the noise likely louder than anything he’d made up to that point. He got the message all the same, finally hearing the sound of footfall that must have tipped Bill off. Collective breaths held as they waited for the two lawmen to pass, chatter fading, a door closing somewhere in the distance cutting off the sound entirely.
As soon there was quiet, Arthur shoved at Bill’s hand, spitting a little unnecessarily. “I’ll ask you kindly to refrain from doin’ that again,” Arthur said under his breath, conviction more than making up for lack of volume. “I don’t even wanna know when was the last time you had a wash.” Not that he was any better, but he hadn’t just shoved his hand practically inside Bill’s mouth.
He sagged back against their makeshift hide away, begrudgingly going on. “Good catch.” Credit where it was due, no matter how unenthusiastically it was delivered. Best to avoid a full blown gunfight if at all possible. “Now, we should keep movin’.”
Bill couldn’t breathe as fear choked him. The danger seemed to scratch at his body like thorns, and he nearly saw the walls in ruins around them; vines creeping in, bricks crumbling away. He missed the weight on his back of his kukri in his pack and his shotgun hooked to it’s side. He nearly forgot that it was lawmen, not hunters, that they were hiding from... and he wondered how much of a difference it made.           As Arthur shoved him, he wasted no time in drawing his hand away and giving the outlaw a little room. He rolled his eyes and gave his head a little shake. Yer welcome fer saving yer ass, he thought, barely stopping the words from coming out.         “Hey-” Offense skittered through him, making him forget for a moment how strongly fear was jumping through him. “I guarantee my hands’re cleaner than yers,” he hissed back, “Maybe cleaner th’n some doctors.” He went on to mutter under his breath about germs and disgusting as he straightened up, leaning out a little to check if the lawmen were still in sight.          “Good catch,” he repeated. “No big deal, they only woulda shot you or worse.” Tugging at the front of his shirt, distracting himself with straightening it out, he motioned for Arthur to move. “Coast’s clear, far as I can tell.”
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wisenedup · 6 years
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“If Jack can adopt a dog, why can’t I adopt a cat?” Bill challenged, dropping the tiny black and orange thing onto the barrel. “Hell, she’ll probably bring more food in than Uncle does- plenty of birds ‘n’ shit around here fer her t’ hunt.”
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wisenedup · 5 years
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At the edge of camp, with the wagons, and the horses, and the tents and the pelts out of sight, Bill could almost imagine that he was back home. It was easy to fool himself that, if he turned around, Lincoln be right there. He could pretend that the voices of the Van der Linde gang were just... Well, it didn’t matter. He could convince himself everything was fine. Everything is fine.          Except it wasn’t. He felt like he was drowning and there were no solutions in sight. The weight of his reality was going to wash him away.          Hearing someone step up behind him and speak, he sniffed, wiping at one eye.
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       “… You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” 
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