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supernaturalscribe67 · 1 year

Text

Just Like Mama Used to Make

Words: 6,178

POV: 1st & 3rd Person

Pairing: John x Son!Reader - Dean/Sam x Brother!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, John Winchester, Fluff, Mention of Childhood Trauma, Mention of Death, I think that's it??

Summary: Taking inspiration from his father, the reader starts his very own journal. For his first entry, he recalls some of the memories that shaped him into the hunter that he has become.

Request:

Hello, hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request John/Dean/Sam Winchester reaction to having a brother who looks like their mother and picked up hunting like breathing?

@xweirdo101x

A/N: My very first request! It kind of got away from me, but I really hope that I was able to do your request justice. Hope you like it!~

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Hello

Hey!

Dear Diary

SEPTEMBER 2014

To be honest, I have no idea how to start something like this. I was never one for writing, nor have I been one who can easily express my emotions. I guess I got that trait from the Winchester side of my family. Still, I have thought a lot about Dad’s journal lately. The things that he wrote down. It’s not detailed. It’s nowhere near what it was like growing up with him, but it still provides Dean, Sammy, and me with some information and nostalgia from time to time.

So, I figured ‘Why the Hell not’, I might as well write down some things in my own journal. I’m going to die someday anyway, and I want people to read this and be able to see what my life was like. From the good times that I spent with my family to the bad times when I lost my family. Hell, maybe this journal will get me into a history book someday when someone else discovers the Men of Letters Bunker. Who knows. Maybe I’ll be famous after I die, or perhaps it’s just wishful thinking.

This journal has already turned into a clusterfuck. I don’t even know what to write about. I can’t even think of things to write about. Should I say things about my life? Should I just write down random things I think of throughout the day? I don’t know how to do it. Even when I look at Dad’s journal for inspiration, there’s nothing to inspire in it. A lot of it is notes on how to kill monsters and other stuff is just a bunch of personal bullshit he was going through.

Well, we were all going through it.

I guess I’ll start by writing down some of the memories I’ve had. If I don’t like it, then I’ll throw this journal away and start another one. I don’t want future historians to think of me as some scatterbrained moron, despite what Sammy and Dean say at times. If you’re reading this now, I’m actually the smartest Winchester brother. Don’t believe a thing Sam and Dean say. I’m the brains of the operations and our day-to-day lives. I’ve saved them more times than I could count.

Then again, they’ve probably saved me just as much.

Alright, I’m getting side-tracked. I guess I’ll just start writing.

Should I introduce myself first before I do so?

My name is (Y/N) Winchester. I’m a hunter.

This is my story (God, that was terrible)

AUGUST 1991

I remember the first time I mentioned to my father that I wanted to be a hunter, just like him. I was six years old. Dad didn’t take it very kindly. He yelled, a lot. Screamed sometimes. I never truly understood why he would always get so upset whenever I would ask him to teach me how to hunt.

It wasn’t until I was a man that I understood why.

I look just like my mother.

I don’t know how I could have been so blind all those years. I have her hair. I have her face. I have her smile. All of these things have been said by my father before. Not necessarily when he was sober. I was always the one person that reminded my Dad of his wife. Of my mother. I think a part of him wanted to keep me safe, just so he could always look at me and remember what she looked like. Even when I was a child, though, I could see the hurt behind his eyes every once in a while when he would look at me. It made me feel guilty.

Still does.

I know that none of it is my fault, that he made himself hurt.

Still…

For months, I would ask my Dad to teach me about hunting. To teach me about the monsters that crept through the darkness. Each time I asked, he would reject my request and I would get scolded for asking such a stupid question.

So, one night, around the age of seven or eight (one of the two, I can’t remember exactly), I decided that school wasn’t very important. There were occasions when I snuck out of classes to go to the library of whatever town we were in at the time to search the limited amount of lore books that they had. There were times when I got caught by Dean before I was able to sneak out. Other times it was by Sammy. Sometimes, my father would get a call from the school because I had been reported missing.

I was a problem child, as you could tell.

It’s not that I hated school.

It just wasn’t my favorite.

And I wanted to hunt.

So, anyway…from town to town, I would skip class, go to the library, and learn everything that I could learn about hunting if there was anything to learn. Sometimes, I would ask Dean questions. Sometimes he would answer, other times he told me to not worry about it and to mind my own business. It used to hurt whenever Dean would reject any of the questions that I would ask, but I know now that it was so he didn’t get in trouble with Dad. I remember giving him a hard time about it, about not answering me. Dean, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry for being a jerk.

Then again, Dean, if you’re reading this, you shouldn’t be reading this and expect some glitter to appear in your body wash.

No one knew about my secret research. No one knew the reason behind my skipping classes. I would constantly make up lies, most of them being about how much I hated moving around and just wanted to rebel against my father. Typical kid stuff.

It wasn’t until August of 1991, when I was ten years old, that I was finally able to put that research to use.

(Y/N) stared down at the paper that rested on a notebook in his lap. His eyes were wide and filled with stress, fingers tangled in his short hair, his back slouched ever so slightly. Dean sat a couple of inches away from him near the end of the bed, his homework in his lap, while Sam leaned against the headboard, a book in his hands that he had gotten from the school library. Dean looked up from his work, noticing the look of despair on his brother’s face before he glanced down at his worksheet. Dean grimaced and let out a hiss.

“Multiplying fractions?” He asked, a hint of sympathy in his tone.

Without looking up, (Y/N) gave a short nod. Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line before he set his pencil down beside him.

“Do you need help?” Dean offered.

(Y/N) lifted his head and looked at his older brother, giving a small, soundless nod. Dean offered a smile as he moved closer to him so that they were sitting next to one another. Dean craned his neck to be able to look at the paper, tilting his head as he studied the equations.

“Which one are you having problems with?” He asked.

“All of them,” (Y/N) answered.

Dean snorted. “Okay, so, it’s easy-”

“Wow, Dean thinks math is easy?” Sam mumbled, a smirk playing on his lips.

Dean lifted his head and glared at Sam. “Shut up, bitch,”

Sam shot a bitch-face towards Dean. “You shut up, jerk,” he retorted.

(Y/N) let out a frustrated grunt. “Will both of you assholes shut up!? I don’t understand this!” His voice was filled with annoyance and desperation.

Dean and Sam shot their brother a look. Sam rolled his eyes as he returned to the book. Dean looked back down at the paper, mumbling an apology under his breath. He then began to help (Y/N) with his homework, walking him through all of the problems that he had. (Y/N) still felt as if Dean was speaking in a foreign language, but he could understand the homework a little easier.

When the paper was halfway finished, the door to the motel room suddenly burst open, causing the three brothers to jump, their eyes wide as they turned and looked at the person who had just entered. John stormed into the room, slamming the door behind him. He stomped over to the couch that sat in front of the small television set and plopped down on it. He ran his hands down his face and let a small growl emit from his throat.

Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) shared a glance, almost as if they were communicating telepathically. After a while, Dean and Sam both turned their attention toward their brother, their eyes locked on his. After looking back and forth between the two, (Y/N) let out a soundless sigh as he set his homework beside him. He moved off of the bed and padded across the aged carpet to the couch. Slowly, he walked around the sofa so that he could see his father.

John looked tired. Dark circles were prominent underneath his eyes. One of his legs was propped up on the couch while the other lay bent in front of him. His elbow rested on the arm of the sofa, his cheek placed against his right hand as he stared at the television in front of him. Nothing played. When (Y/N) came into view, John glanced at him out of the corner of his eye for a brief moment. He said nothing.

“Hey, Dad,” (Y/N) greeted. “Um…how were the, uh, interviews with the victims’ families?”

John shook his head. “Not great, kid,” he grumbled.

“No?”

“No.”

As (Y/N) stared at his father, he timidly moved over to the couch. John hesitantly moved his leg as (Y/N) sat down next to him.

“Did you…learn anything?”

“Why aren’t you boys in bed?” John grunted.

“We’re finishing our homework.”

“Then shouldn’t you be working on it?”

(Y/N)’s shoulders slouched. “I just…wanted to see how it went is all…”

“You want to know how it went?” John’s voice got deeper. “You really want to know how it went? Fucking terrible. That’s how it went,” John straightened himself out on the couch before he stood up. He began to pace around the room, his tone of voice getting more and more irritable. “I thought I had a good fucking lead going. All of the victims went to the same fucking bookstore a couple of days before their deaths and got the same book. Seems like a fucking coincidence, right? Then I go to the goddamn bookstore to see what the book was and all it was was something called Aradia or some shit like that. Some type of foreign book bullshit, I don’t fucking know.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as John continued to rant. He looked down and away from his father. He got lost, deep in thought, the words that John was speaking irrelevant to him now. Finally, he turned back to him, kneeling on the couch as he raised his brows.

“Did you say Aradia?” He questioned in the middle of John’s rant.

John stopped pacing around the room as he looked back at (Y/N). Dean and Sam’s attention immediately turned to him, their eyes wide. John’s jaw was clenched, the anger and irritation still emanating from him. “Yeah,” he replied deeply.

“Aradia…” (Y/N) trailed before he shook his head. “That’s not a foreign book, Dad! That’s only the first half of the title. The full title is Aradia or the Gospel of the Witches. It was one of the most influential pieces of literature in the nineteenth century to witches! You’re dealing with a witch!” (Y/N)’s eyes widened as a smile appeared on his face.

John’s expression went from furious to confusion. He narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about that book?” He questioned.

“I read about it in a library a little bit ago.” (Y/N) answered quickly.

John pressed his tongue into his cheek as he slowly nodded his head. He looked at Sam and Dean, who were still staring with wide eyes at their brother, and then back at (Y/N). He ran a hand down his face stressfully.

“You boys finish your homework,” he mumbled as he walked towards the door. “I have to make a call.”

Without allowing anyone to respond, John left the motel room, closing the door behind him a little gentler than when he entered. (Y/N)’s smile faded as he watched his father leave, his shoulders dropping. The three brothers sat in silence for a minute before they looked at one another.

“Come on,” Dean said as he patted the spot on the bed next to him. “Let’s finish these math problems.”

Even though Dad never told me, I knew I was right. I knew it was a witch that he had dealt with. We didn’t even get to go to school the next day. He had found and killed her before I was able to turn in that math homework. What a waste of time.

I would like to think that Dad was proud of me in that situation, but he never said anything. He never brought it up again as far as I can remember. It was something that he had put in the past, along with all of the other hunts that we had been on. However, even if he wasn’t proud of me back then, I was proud of myself. Proud that I was able to help my Dad even if I wasn’t beside him when he took that bitch down.

God, I hate witches.

MAY 1993

I didn’t touch a gun until I was twelve years old. By that point, I had stopped begging Dad to teach me how to hunt, because it seemed that the only answer I was going to be getting was ‘No’. I figured that I would go to the next best person for the job.

I had to ask Dean.

Dean was very protective of Sammy and me when we were younger. He still is super protective of us, even in our ripe old ages. But because of how protective he could get, he was very hesitant about teaching me how to shoot a gun. However, with Dad talking about Dean going on hunts with him more and more by then, I knew that I would be left alone with Sammy. I used the excuse that I needed to learn how to shoot a gun eventually so that I could protect the two of us when we were by ourselves. I couldn’t be expected to be safe when the only two people who knew how to shoot were away.

That reasoning caught Dean’s attention.

After the fifth or sixth time asking him, Dean had finally agreed. A couple of days passed and, when Dad was a couple of towns away gathering information for a hunt, Dean and I skipped school. Shocking, right? I think Dean used the excuse that I hadn’t been feeling well and he had to take care of me. He even wrote out a fake doctor’s note and everything. Back then, you could get away with a handwritten note. I’m not too sure if you could now.

Once Sammy had been dropped off at school that day, Dean and I walked to a creek a couple of miles away from the school. He had set up a couple of cans on a log, some recycled stuff that he had picked up along the way. He had brought one of Dad’s small handguns with him. When he gave it to me, it felt so surreal. So different.

I never really understood what the big fuss was about, though.

Shooting a gun was easy.

“No, you can’t have your hand that low! You have it that low and the gun is going to come out of your hand when you shoot it,” Dean grumbled.

Dean took (Y/N)’s hand in his and adjusted it so that it fits perfectly onto the grip of the handgun. He then took his other hand and placed it on top of the one that was already on the gun. (Y/N) furrowed his brows as he looked at the way his hands nestled against one another.

“This doesn’t feel right.” He said. “Why can’t I just hold it with one hand like the cops do in the movies?”

“Because you’re twelve, dummy. You’re not in your forties and have years of experience under your belt,” Dean rolled his eyes. “And that is exactly how you should hold it if you don’t want to get hit in the face with your weapon after you fire it.”

(Y/N) listened intently to what his brother was saying, giving him a small nod before he straightened his back up.

“Stop.” Dean held up a hand.

(Y/N) shot Dean a confused look. “What?”

“You’re standing wrong.”

“I’m standing wrong…”

“Yeah, here,” Dean walked over, pressing his hand against the top of (Y/N)’s back ever so slightly, leaning him forward. “If you have your back too straight, then you’re more likely to fall backward. You also,” Dean kicked (Y/N)’s feet apart. “Need to have your feet apart. Keeps you more ground.”

(Y/N) looked down at the ground for a moment, taking in the appearance and feel of his stance. The way his back leaned forward and the way his legs were spread. He nodded.

“Okay, now I shoot?”

“Is your safety off?”

“Safety?”

Dean sighed, moving back over to him. He took the gun from (Y/N)’s grasp and flashed the left side of the gun. “You see this little trigger?” When Dean received a nod from his brother, he continued. “If it’s facing side-to-side, that means the safety is on. That means the gun won’t fire. All you have to do is flick this little switch,” Dean turned the safety off. “Once it’s up and down, then that means it’s ready to fire.” He handed the gun back to (Y/N). “Now, get back into position.”

(Y/N) glanced down at the safety mechanism on the gun for a moment before he nodded. He got back into the position that he was in, spreading his legs apart the same length Dean had and slouching his back forward ever so slightly. Once he received a nod of approval from Dean, (Y/N) lifted his arms, cocking his head to the side. He aimed at the can farthest to the left. He closed his left eye and placed his finger on the trigger.

“Stop!” Dean said more abruptly.

(Y/N) jumped and moved his finger off the trigger, standing up straighter to face Dean. “What!?” He asked exasperatedly.

Dean shook his head. “You can’t have one eye closed.”

“Why not? Snipers do it!”

“Because snipers are far enough away from combat. They need to look through a scope to get a good shot. You, on the other hand, are feet away from whatever monster you’re dealing with. What happens when you’re facing more than one monster? You leave yourself open to being taken out on your left.” Dean’s tone was stern, yet calm. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Slowly, (Y/N) nodded as he grasped an understanding of Dean’s thinking. “Both eyes open?”

“Both eyes open.” Dean backed up a bit. “Back into position.”

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath before resuming his position. Legs spread, back bent, arms up, head tilted, both eyes open. His goal was to hit the used can of peaches that sat on the outside of the log. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest from anxiousness and anticipation. He was surprised the gun wasn’t shaking in his grasp.

His eyes were on the cartoon peaches that were etched onto the label of the can. More specifically, the pit that sat in the center of the peach. He wanted to hit the pit. He never moved his eyes from the pit as he took a deep breath, his shoulders rising. Finally, as he exhaled, his shoulders dropping, he pulled the trigger.

The can flew into the air and seemed to dramatically and unceremoniously fall into the creek. A small splash echoed in (Y/N)’s ears, accompanied by the ringing of the gunshot.

One thing that (Y/N) noted was that his hands ached, both from the vice grip he had on the gun and the recoil that he hadn’t expected. Sure, Dean had informed him about it before, but he wasn’t sure how it would feel. His hands would definitely bruise.

(Y/N) lowered the gun, looking over at his brother to see that Dean wore a stunned expression on his face. Dean’s mouth hung open as his eyes were glued to the can that lay in the flowing water. (Y/N) watched in silence as Dean walked over to the can. He reached down and picked it up by the opening, wincing from the heat of the bullet hole before he swapped hands. He studied the can. It seemed like too much time had passed before he turned the can so (Y/N) could see.

(Y/N) had gotten it on his first try.

The bullet hole?

Right in the pit.

(Y/N) raised his brows, a mixture of pride and surprise coursing through him. A wide smile appeared on his face. Similarly, a smirk appeared on Dean’s lips. Dean chuckled before he tossed the can into the water.

“Beginner’s luck,” he said, brushing his hands onto his jeans. “Let’s see if you can hit the other ones.”

I shot through the rest of the cans, the same as I had done for that can of peaches. Not to toot my own horn, but I was a natural when it came to a pistol. I don’t mean to sound egotistic about this, but Dean can back up any statement that I’m making about this story.

I could tell that Dean was proud of me that day. He never said he was, but the way he looked at me and the way he treated me afterward told me things that words couldn’t. It’s hard to describe, but it almost felt like he had gained some respect for me that day. It felt good. Even as I am writing about this story, I can’t keep the smile off my face. I always looked up at Dean, so it feels great to think that I had done something to bring a smile to his stupid face.

My hands hurt like hell after it was all said and done. I had gotten a couple of bruises near the thumb on my right hand that I brushed off to my Dad as something that I had picked up when I got into a fight at school. Dean had backed me up when Dad got on my ass about it. Dad told me that I had to get along with the other kids so I didn’t give the wrong impression at the schools I went to. It wasn’t like they would remember me anyway. Of course, I didn’t tell him that. I knew when to bite my tongue.

Dad never found out about the shooting practice. I get a feeling that he had a sneaking suspicion as soon as he took me to practice himself years later, but I never told him about it. I never told him that Dean had been the one to teach me how to stand correctly, or where to find the safety of a gun. I know that he knew it was Dean. A part of me wonders if Dean ever got in trouble for it, or if it was something that Dad even brought up. I would never ask Dean about it now, though.

Some things are best to be left in the past.

NOVEMBER 1999

By the time I turned eighteen, I had already been on several hunts with Dad and Dean. The majority of the time, though, I would stay back and watch Sammy. Even though he was a teenager and had the capability of taking care of himself, Dad expressed that he was still a kid and needed to be looked after. A part of me thought it was bullshit at the time, but another part of me was glad that I was able to spend time with my younger brother.

Now, I know the real reason behind my staying with Sammy was because some of the hunts that Dad and Dean went on were ‘rough’. A little ‘too hard’ for me.

Dad didn’t want to lose the son that reminded him of his wife.

At least, that was what Dean told me, and I believe him.

It was a blessing and a curse, come to think of it. There were times that I stayed behind and Dad called me up, needing me to do some research for the case that they were working on. He had said it would be faster if someone was working on the research while he and Dean were out taking interviews. In the end, it was more efficient. I would gather the necessary information and hand it off to him and they would be back at the motel a lot quicker than if they had been the ones to look up the information.

That was the system that we worked with for a while. After a couple of months, Dad informed me that he didn’t want me to do the research anymore. He wanted Sammy to be the one to do it. I remember him saying that Sammy needed to focus more on the hunting aspect of his life. That school was just a waste of time at that point. He was old enough to get into it.

Sammy hated the idea when I told him. He loved school. He was always such a nerd. Still is. An even bigger nerd if you can believe it. I knew how much school meant to him, and I didn’t want him to be discouraged from doing his schoolwork. He shouldn’t have been forced to do anything that he didn’t want to. So, I decided that I was going to do the research and just tell Dad that he had been the one to do it. Sammy was thankful.

That was until Dad called.

Dad wasn't as stupid as I took him for most of the time. He knew that Sammy hadn’t done any of the research, that I was the one that did it all. By the time he and Dean got back, he gave Sammy a verbal lashing. I tried to defend him, but nothing worked. In the end, Sammy gave in. He would do the research for the next hunt.

Like clockwork, when the next hunt rolled around, with Sammy and I staying back at the motel, Dad had called. He had given Sammy the information that he needed to research and we headed off to the local library. Once we got the necessary books, we took them back to the motel and he began to work.

I could tell that it wasn’t going well.

Sam sat at the small table near the motel room door, two books placed in front of him. His back was slouched as he looked from one book to another, flipping through pages frantically. He had been going at it for several hours by then, evident by the bags that were present underneath his eyes and the redness around his pupils. (Y/N) sat on the couch, watching some old western show. Now and then he would look at his little brother. He could see how tired and stressed he was about the entire situation. (Y/N) had never seen Sam that stressed out before, even when he was studying for a test in one of his AP classes.

Eventually, Sam pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, lowering his head, as if accepting defeat. (Y/N) studied his movements, and, after he saw that he had not moved in a while, he decided the best thing to do was to help him out. He picked up the remote and turned off the television before tossing it aside. He stood from his spot on the couch and walked over to the table. He grabbed the spare chair, pulled it beside Sam, and sat down.

“Having some trouble?” He questioned.

Sam’s shoulders rose and fell as a sigh escaped his lips. He removed his hands from his face and placed them into his lengthy hair. His eyes were cast down towards the table. He stayed in the same position for some time before he looked up at (Y/N).

“No,” he answered, pulling the books towards him. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I said ‘I’m fine’,” Sam repeated through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) studied him with an expressionless face. Sam kept his eyes down, looking from one book to another. (Y/N) was able to see the stress that was emitted from his brother even better with how close he was sitting. He took one look at the books before he shook his head.

“I’m sorry Dad’s making you do this.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be doing this alone the first time…” he trailed. “But if Dad found out I helped you-”

“You’d get in trouble, and so would I. Yeah, I know.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips. “You know, it took me a little over a year to get comfortable with translating Latin. I sometimes screw up from time to time.”

“Still?”

“Yeah, still,” he chuckled. “That’s why I got something that helps me out now and again.”

With that, (Y/N) stood from his spot on the chair and waltzed over to the bed in the far corner of the room. Beside the bed sat his black duffel bag. He picked it up and placed it on the bed. He began to rummage through it, sorting through clothes and weapons that rested at the bottom. Wedged into the corner of his bag sat a book. He picked it up and brought it over to the table. He took a seat next to Sam once more and placed the book in front of him.

Sam furrowed his brows as he studied the cover. It was a Latin-English translation book. It looked rather similar to the one that he had picked up at the library. The only difference was the color of the cover was a little faded and, along the outside of the book, between all of the pages, were multi-colored Post-it notes. Each Post-it note had different letter combinations on it, as well as notes written on some of them. Sam opened the cover and he raised his brows when he saw that the first page was replaced by a notebook-sized piece of paper, taped to the front page. There were multiple words in English on the left side with their corresponding Latin translation on the right.

“What’s this?” Sam asked.

“It’s a translation book I picked up a couple of years back at a bookstore. I figured since there were going to be a lot of things that needed translating, then I was going to have to make it easier for myself to find the words. The only problem is that most of these translation books are so damn compressed that it’s hard to find certain words without getting blurry vision. So, I took the liberty to mark down all of the times when the letters change in the words. For example, when the words that start with ‘AB’ transfer to words that start with ‘AC’. It always made it easier to find. Plus, I made a page at the beginning about common words that I have found in my research so that it would be easier to translate them.”

As (Y/N) explained, he gestured with his hand toward the book. Sam listened intently, taking in all of the information that he was given, nodding his head. Once (Y/N) was done talking, Sam looked down at the book and then back up at him.

“You did all this?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Crazy, right?”

Sam snorted. “Yeah. Wish you put that much effort into your homework when you were still in school.”

“Hey,” (Y/N) leaned back in his chair and lifted his hands in mock surrender. “School was fine and all, but this is something I enjoy, and I’m good at it. I’m good at hunting research and you’re good in school.”

“And what’s Dean good at?”

“Being a pain in the ass.”

Sam smiled widely, his dimples more prominent than (Y/N) had seen in a while. After a beat or two of silence, the smile faded as he looked down.

“I wish Dad could see that I’m good at school.”

The corner of (Y/N)’s mouth curved downward. It was his turn to look down at the table. He reached over and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder comfortingly. “I know, kiddo,” he mumbled. “But Dean and I both see how much of a nerd you are. Don’t worry.”

A smile returned to Sam’s face, but it wasn’t as happy as the last one. They sat in silence for a little bit before (Y/N) lowered his hand and Sam moved back to the books.

“You got it from here?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Yeah, I got it,”

“Great,” (Y/N) said as he stood from his seat and patted Sam on the back. “Call me over if you need anything.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to call you over when I get to the part about multiplying fractions.”

(Y/N) glared at Sam and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“No, no I’m not.”

Sammy still teases me to this day about not knowing how to multiply fractions. Even though it was decades ago at this point, he still likes to tease me about it. Little shit.

With my help, Sammy was able to get the translations done a lot faster than he expected. I remember seeing the relief on his face when he had finished. Poor kid was so exhausted. Dad was more than pleased when he called and asked about it. Dad never found out that I had helped him out a bit, and neither Sammy nor I were planning on telling him. I just wanted Sammy to have an easier time than I did when I was first learning about research, specifically translations.

In the end, I would have to say that Sammy is better than me when it comes to research. He’s taken the reigns on many different hunts because of how proficient he is with technology. I’m good with old-fashioned ways of research, but Sammy’s the nerd when it comes to computers.

Sammy has told me once or twice, though, that I was the one that helped him the most when it came to his knowledge of research. That, without my help, he wouldn’t have been as good at it as he is now.

I call bullshit. Sammy has always been a smart kid.

He could do anything he put his mind to.

SEPTEMBER 2014

This is all I can write at the moment. Dean called me to the kitchen a couple of minutes ago saying that dinner was ready. I need to wrap this up before he or Sammy comes in here and sees what I’m doing. I know that I would get endlessly teased about keeping a ‘diary’. I need to make sure to hide this in a good enough place where neither of them will find it if they go snooping through my room.

Sam, Dean, if you guys are reading this, I’ll get you back.

But if you’re going to read it, I just want to let you know that I love you guys.

Not that I’m into chick-flick moments or anything.

I’m just glad that I have you guys as my brothers. No one could ask for a better family than you two.

Okay, that was cheesy. I wish I wasn’t writing this in pen so I could erase it.

Dammit.

I’m not too sure how to end this, so I guess I’ll just write again sometime when I can. Perhaps I could do like Dad did in his journal and write about all of the new monsters we have discovered over the years. Or maybe write more memories down. This journal is going to be so cluttered that no one is going to want to read it. There’s no way I’m going to get famous from this.

Dean just called me to the kitchen again.

Until next time.

Happy hunting. (That was stupid, think of something better).

WE LOVE YOU TOO - SAM + DEAN

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deancasbigbang · 1 year

Text

Title: Don't Call Me Angel

Author: butterflyslinky

Artist: Diminuel

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Brief Dean/Benny Lafitte, Mentioned Dean/Lisa Braeden, Past Castiel/Lily Sunder, Past Castiel/Crowley, Mentioned Castiel/Unnamed Others, Mentioned Dean/Ash, Mentioned Dean/Lee Webb

Length: 51170

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Discussion of Murder and Suicide, Minor Character Death, Mentioned Dubious Consent

Tags: HunterCorp AU, Female!Castiel, Mark of Cain, Series Rewrite

Posting Date: October 2, 2023

Summary: On his first solo case for HunterCorps, Dean runs into a freelancer known as Cass Teyal. Dean quickly falls for her, and soon finds himself embroiled in two much bigger cases: preventing the Apocalypse, and figuring out exactly what Cass is hiding.

Excerpt: The cemetery was, as expected, dark, creepy, and full of dead stuff. Dean walked through it, looking at every grave for disturbances. So far, all of them seemed fairly normal, but Dean knew better than to think that meant anything. He headed for the crypt. If this was a ghoul, that would be a good place to look. The door was open when Dean reached it. He groaned and headed inside. “Cass?” “Wondered when you’d show.” She was standing toward the back, apparently looking around, though she didn’t have any sort of light. Dean shown his flashlight at the wall, searching for any irregularities. “You’re going to have to be faster if you want to compete.” “You’ve been drinking,” Dean protested weakly. “You shouldn’t be out here.” “I’m not even slightly intoxicated. I was just waiting for it to get dark.” She looked him up and down again. “See you stopped to change out of the pretty clothes.” “Hunting is messy.” “Hm.” She kept staring at him, her gaze piercing. “You know my name, pretty boy…what’s yours?” “Dean,” Dean said distractedly. “Got scratches here.” He shone his light on the spot. “Yes, I spotted them…nothing behind there. Dean who?” “Dean Winchester…where is it, then?” “Probably stalking out another victim in whatever skin it’s wearing. You’re John’s son.” “Yeah…you know him?” “He keeps trying to recruit me. But I work alone, and not for money. Come on.” Dean blinked, but followed Cass out of the crypt. She walked through the cemetery with a steady, long stride, not even looking back to make sure he was following. “Wait!” Dean jogged and caught up to her, his confusion evident. “You’re sure it’s not in there?” “Very. This is a shapeshifter, not a ghoul. Which means it probably set up somewhere more comfortable.” “How do you know?” “I looked at the victims. No bites, just slices. The cemetery’s just a dumping ground. Very considerate, actually.” “Considerate?!” “Well, it’s putting them where they’d end up eventually. It seems better than dumping them in alleys like most monsters.” “No, Cass, better would be not murdering people!” “Obviously. But if you must be killing people, the least you can do is make clean-up easier.” “Right.” Dean shook his head a bit. “So where are we going?” “Somewhere we can look at a map. I want to triangulate where the victims lived.” “Okay…we can go to my suite, it’s got a big table.” Cass looked amused. “Why, Mr. Winchester, are you inviting me up to your room?” “For the case. If you won’t back off, we’ll have to work together, and I’m going to wring as many billable hours out of it as I can.” “You do that, pretty boy…lead the way.”

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2023 #fic preview #2023 promo #deancas #destiel

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adidegmez · 3 months

Text

spn s8 spoilers

s8 ep1(we need to talk about kevin)

another year has passed. cas really left dean alone, huh? sam why didnt you look for dean? dean knows how to hide pain. like, he was in hell for 40 years they mentioned it 2 or 3 times and we didnt talk about it. he was in purgatory. I am waiting with curiosity and fear to see what else will happen to him. i love kevin. I'm eager to learn more about Benny.

s8 ep2(what's up, tiger mommy?)

i loved kevin's mom. i need cas to come back and team free will to be together.

s8 ep3(heartache)

i really want winchesters to be happy but i dont think they can be fully happy. they have their little happiness. there will always be something missing.

s8 ep4(bitten)

wow. i liked kate's speech at the end. Dean doesn't contradict himself. When Dean killed Amy, my thoughts about him started to collapse. Then I thought about it and I think I understand Dean's perspective on monsters well now. And Dean still hasn't contradicted this point of view. Dean's point of view: If the monster has killed people, there is no return, but if it hasn't killed anyone yet, then there is a possibility of return. and I understand and love that perspective.

s8 ep5(blood brother)

dean's flasback scenes reminds me of arrow oliver queen's flashback scenes. vampirates, i love how dean's face and how much he's proud of that name when he suggests new species a name. i love benny. well, Benny seems to be the exception to Dean's rule, but again benny is not the same as Amy. Amy would kill again for her son, but Benny hasn't killed for a while and I don't think he will. Dean believes in Benny and I believe in Dean. so i hope benny wont fail us.

s8 ep6(southern comfort)

but really sam turned his phone for a year. no one can be bobby! dean trusted sam and cas, and they both failed dean. benny didnt betray dean, yet. there is not so many people dean can trust. well Dean has no one he can trust(not anymore).

s8 ep7(a little slice of kevin)

cas! of course dean feel guilty.

s8 ep8(hunteri heroici)

hunter cas, awesome. team free will they are all funny. seeing them smile is amazing. things are easy when they have an angel on the team.

s8 ep9(citizen fang)

i love benny. call dean, benny. sam if you try to do something to benny… benny is a good guy. they shouldnt push his limits. i hope benny will be okay. i dont know why but i couldnt like sam's flashback scenes. sam just gave up on dean and chose amelia. dean has every right to defend benny and be mad at sam.

s8 ep10(torn and frayed)

I wish Jess could come again. sam and jess were perfect together. i dont like him with amelia. she is married. i love kevin. cas why did you just do that?! why didnt you go to benny dean?

s8 ep11(LARP and the real girl)

hi Charlie! dean is a fanboy i really love him. armor suits dean(as always).

s8 ep12(as time goes by)

men of letters i was curious about them. i loved henry. and i still love john.

s8 ep13(everybody hates hitler)

i love mystery. i love when they say supernatural on the Show.

s8 ep14(trial and error)

they have a home. dean has a room. and i liked clark kent dean. dean has no hope for his future. this breaks my heart. i need dean to be happy. and sam, and cas.

s8 ep15(man's best friend with benefits)

so what happened to anti-christ and adam? they'll return, right? sam is not good. but its nice to see dean trusting sam again.

s8 ep16(remember the titans)

i hate Zeus(i knew him from pjo) so i like prometheus. i hate Zeus in every universe. really, where is cas? i miss him. i love big brother dean. he really loves sam. he may love him more than anything in the world. dean dean dean… i love him.

s8 ep17(goodbye, stranger)

dean is cas' weak spot. i hope he can turn cas back to normal. i'm glad i now can understand star wars references. i think, i like meg. meg loves cas. where is cas going? its funny to see him on the bus.

s8 ep18(freaks and geeks)

i like victor's vision. i love the gang. and of course, dean showed them the way. and they actually listened. i have hope.

s8 ep19(taxi driver)

i never thought we would see bobby again. hi bobby. i missed bobby. i love benny. i saw a spoiler before watching this ep it said that dean killed benny to save sam and i assumed benny would kill people and tries to kill sam but no. he saved bobby he saved sam. and sacrificed himself and thanks to him winchesters will save the world. rip benny. i love benny. he is my favorite vampire.(i dont know much vampire but still no one can surpass him). i shouldn't like crowley BUT he was played by David tennant in good omens and he was a good guy there and he is played by mark sheppard. and he sometimes does good things. idk.

s8 ep20(pac-man fever)

wow. sam is not good. hi Charlie. i love Charlie and dean's relationship. winchesters kinda have a sister now. and i love her.

s8 ep21(the great escapist)

i knew something was wrong. i hope they can save kevin. hi cas:) . i love kevin.

s8 ep22(clip show)

i like metatron. Why did they choose the hardest person to cure? i liked sarah. crowley is right. the people they save keep them going.

s8 ep23(sacrifice)

i love supernatural so much. 7 seasons left. i love dean i love sam i love cas i just love them so much. i am glad we get to spend so much time with them.

is meatron bad. i have a bad feeling about what he's doing with cas. i never thought they would cure Crowley. when will god come? i want to cry. everything goes wrong in the last minute, always. angel are falling… i saw that scene in an edit with skyfall and it was beautiful and tragic. is crowley fully cured? i don't think so but he changed a little bit.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #bobby singer #crowley #meg #kevin tran

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secondhandroad · 8 days

Note

happy wincest wednesday! how do you think john would react to a sam/dean relationship? is he more of a "i'll pretend i didn't see anything," "i think this is for the best, since now you'll try to protect each other more," or "this is so fucked, i'm separating you" kind of guy? love to hear your thoughts! :) -lizzy

In season 14, John looks at his fucked up killing machine son, Dean Winchester, and is like “but :( I wanted you to get out…”. He says that to DEAN. This is, in his mind, after Mary, after fourteen-plus years on the road, after Sam going to Stanford and getting disowned for it. And he’s still telling himself dean is gonna get out some day.

This leads to my conclusion that the only way John can cope with what he’s done to his boys is deep, deep denial. He truly believes this is still temporary. They’re gonna kill that yellow eyed son-of-a-bitch and then go back to normal, like Mary would’ve wanted. He has the faith—that’s half of why he’s so mad that Sam leaves, because Sam clearly doesn’t believe that John can do it, that John can still slay the bad guy and return the family unit to safety.

So when he sees evidence that his boys are that fucked up by what he's done? That they're that codependent, that deeply enmeshed, that out of society? Yeah, it hits him hard. Because he let them get that twisted.

But like early seasons Sam and late seasons Dean, John turns his guilt to anger so he can live with it. It takes two seconds flat. And I think the focus of his anger is Dean. Dean's the oldest, but more than that, he's supposed to be John's second in command.

Dean's number one job is supposed to be protecting Sam. His number two job is to steer his poor fucked-up maybe-demon-tainted baby Sam right. He's supposed to make Sam train and fight off his bullies and make sure he knows monster from victim and take him to school and wake him up from nightmares. And he does this?

So yeah. I think John is devastated and furious and heartbroken, but the boys just get the furious. I don't think he's capable of separating them, assuming we're pre-Stanford, and therefore letting someone else raise one of his boys. But I do think he keeps Dean with him on jobs and leaves Sam back, and gets two hotel rooms when they're altogether (Sam and John in one, Dean in the other). And I think he tries not to think about Mary.

#thank you so much for this ask lizzy!!!#i love john & the boys soooo much

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bamby0304 · 2 years

Text

Her Saviours- Ch.34

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst. Violence.

Bamby

Coming to, you found yourself tied up to one of the foundation pillars. Sam was to your right, with Dean on his right. Meg was crouching in front of the three of you, watching, waiting with a smirk placed firmly on her face.

Sam grunted and gasped, waking up moments after you.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean started. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend...is a bitch.”

You snarled at Meg which just made her smirk grow.

Sam ignored you all, though, as he focused on Meg, his mind ticking as the pieces fell into place. “This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin’ what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn’t it? And that the victims were from Lawrence?”

She chuckled. “It doesn’t mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that’s all.”

“You killed those two people for nothin’,” Sam spat.

“Baby, I’ve killed a lot more for a lot less.”

“You trapped us. Good for you. It’s Miller time.” Dean shrugged. “But why don’t you kill us already?”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Not very quick on the uptake, are we? This trap isn’t for you.”

The second the words left her lips you knew the truth.

“John.”

Her head snapped in your direction. “Clever girl.” She smiled.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re dumber than you look,” Dean scoffed. “'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn’t walk into something like this. He’s too good.”

“He is pretty good. I’ll give you that.” She stood and walked over to him. You had to struggle against your binds to watch as she straddled him. “But you see, he has one weakness.”

“What’s that?” he asked, voice tense with repulsion.

“You,” she answered simply. “He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgement.” She leaned in closer to him. “I happen to know he is in town. And he’ll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody… nice and slow and messy.”

Dean had all the faith in John, though. Nothing she said would scare him. “Well, I’ve got news for ya. It’s gonna take a lot more than some….shadow to kill him.”

“Oh, the Daevas are in the room here,” she countered. “They’re invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see.”

“Why you doin’ this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?”

Meg turned to Sam to answer his question, her tone going from cocky to defensive quickly. “I’m doing this for the same reasons you do what you do… loyalty. Love.” She paused before her grin returned. “Like the love you had for Mummy… and Jess.”

“Go to hell,” he spat.

“Baby, I’m already there.” Crawling away from Dean, she moved over to Sam before sitting herself in his lap. “Come on, Sam. There’s no need to be nasty.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I think we both know how you really feel about me.” Her body was pressed against his. “You know, I saw you watching me. Changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn’t it?”

The rope that had you tied to the spot was cutting into your wrists as you struggled against them. You wanted to dig your teeth into her throat and rip it out. You wanted to tear her to shreds and wear her blood like war paint. You wanted to kill her with your bare hands and teeth, and not stop until she was turned to nothing.

“I didn’t mind,” she went on. “I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun.”

You felt something primal snap in you as she began to grind against him. But what really got your blood pumping was when she started the nibble on his neck.

“You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I’m a little tied up right now.” Sam’s voice was tight as he just sat there stiffly.

Slowly, he turned his head to catch your gaze. You held it as you continued to struggle against your binds. The stench of your rage was thick in the room. There was no doubt everyone could smell it.

The sound of something metallic clinking against the ground had everyone freeze.

Meg waited barely a second before she scurried over to Dean and snatched away the knife he’d been using to cut away at his ties. Then she slid back over to Sam, right back onto his lap.

“Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No.” She pulled back to watch him as he went on, “That’s because I have a knife of my own.”

Breaking free from his bins, Sam grabbed Meg and smashed his head into hers. She fell back with a heavy weight as he grunted and groaned in pain, clutching at his head.

“Sam!” Dean called out. “Get the altar.”

Fighting the pain and dizziness, Sam pulled himself to his feet and fumbled over to the altar as quickly as he could. Grabbing the table, he flipped it, sending the contents of the altar flying and falling.

The sound of screeches filled the room as shadows began to suddenly rush Meg. The three of you watched as she was dragged to the large windows before she was thrown through them.

Sam hurried over to Dean, handing him a spare knife before he moved to cut you free. The second you were able to move you ran over to the edge of the window and looked down. Lying there, on the ground in a mangled heap, was a now very dead Meg.

Dean and Sam came over to stand on either side of you, the youngest breaking the silence, “So, I guess the Daevas didn’t like being bossed-”

Before Sam could finish his sentence you grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to you. Crashing his lips onto yours, you devoured any words he’d been about to speak as you reclaimed him as your own.

When you finally let up and gave him the chance to pull away, Sam looked down at you with wide eyes.

“Mine,” was all you could say.

Dean shifted behind you, which had you spinning on your heels to grab his shirt to hold him in place.

“Mine,” you repeated.

With both brothers in your grasp, the Alphas nodded. “Yours,” they said at the same time.

Their confirmation allowed you to relax. Your grip on their shirts slipped as you felt the tension, stress and anxiety fade away.

“You okay?” Sam asked as he stepped closer to you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

Nodding, you found yourself lost for words.

Seeming to sense that, Dean placed a gentle hand on the small of your back. “Let’s get you back to the motel room.”

All you could do was nod again as you let the brothers lead you away, feeling security and comfort replace the negativity you’d been filled with moments ago.

…

One of Sam’s hands was in yours, while his other held the duffle bag of supplies. Dean was a couple steps ahead, pulling out the key to the hotel room out of his pocket.

You were more than eager for rest after the job’s events. The whole thing had been taxing on so many levels. More than just physical. So the idea of being able to rest up for the rest of the night before moving on sounded amazing.

“Why didn’t you just leave that stuff in the car?” Dean asked Sam as he started unlocking the room’s door.

Sam shrugged. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Better safe than sorry.”

As Dean opened the door, the three of you shuffled into the room, only to come to a sudden stop at the sight of a man standing by the window.

“Hey!” Dean yelled in an instant, out of instinct.

Your instincts were different, though. Using your free hand, you held it out in front of the older brother as your other hand held Sam back. “Guys… wait…”

The scent had hit you before you’d fully comprehended the thought of someone breaking into your hotel room. You knew he was there before you could even think of a whisper of there being a threat.

Sam dropped the duffle bag and reached for the light, turning it on to erase the darkness in the room and reveal who was standing in front of you.

John smiled at the three of you, proud and relieved.

“Dad?” Dean was clearly shocked.

John simply nodded. “Hey, boys. Y/N.”

Reacting with emotion, Dean stepped forward, meeting his father halfway before the two of them embarrassed in a long and tight hug. The emotion filled the room, reaching even you and Sam as the two of you hesitated to move from the room’s door.

As they pulled away, John looked to his other son. “Hi Sam.”

All Sam could do was nod as he responded softly, “Hey, Dad.

John’s eyes turned to you, then. The breath he let out released so much tension and emotion. There was so much longing and need. He needed the reassuring touch of his Omega. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t his.

Finger’s slipping out of Sam’s grasp, you felt your heart ache a little as you did what you were taught to do and stepped up to the Alpha of your pack.

John pulled you to him as soon as you were within reach. Grasping the back of your head, he buried his face in your neck as he breathed in your scent. At the same time you could sense him scenting you, making sure to leave a reminder of himself as he held you against him.

Pulling back ever so slightly, he searched your eyes without really reading them, before he pulled you in and pressed his lips against yours in a desperate kiss.

It was muscle memory. With the muscle memory came other memories which flooded your mind and heart. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted your hand to grasp his jacket and hold him closer. Melting into his touch and the kiss, you revelled in the memories of comfort and security this man had created with you over the years you’d been together.

Cupping your face, he wiped away a stray tear from your cheek as he pulled you away. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, sir.”

He chuckled lowly at the title. “You being a good girl for my boys?”

“Always.”

Humming his approval, he leaned back in to press his lips against yours in a tender but shorter kiss. Pulling back, he slipped his hand into yours, keeping you by his side as he turned to his sons.

“So… what happened?”

Dean was the one to jump in line and start answering his questions. “It was a trap. I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” John assured him. “I thought it might’ve been.”

“Were you there?”

John nodded, answering Dean’s question. “Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?”

“Yes, sir,” both of his sons answered.

“Good.” John gave a short nod. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me. It’s tried to stop me before.”

It was Sam’s turn to ask questions, “The demon has?”

“It knows I’m close,” John explained. “It knows I’m gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell. Actually kill it.”

The look of confusion but intrigued in Dean’s eyes barely covered the hope lingering there. “How?”

John just smiled. “I’m workin’ on that.”

“Let us come with you. We’ll help,” Sam offered.

Shaking his head, John declined the offer, “No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don’t want you caught in a crossfire. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Dad, you don’t have to worry about us.”

“Of course I do. I’m your father. Your Alpha.” He gave your hand a squeeze before he went on, “Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.”

“Too long.”

Hand slipping from yours, John stepped up to his youngest and pulled him into a hug. The two held each other with a different kind of emotion than what he’d shared with Dean moment’s ago.

It happened so fast.

As John and Sam pulled away something came out of nowhere and grabbed them, throwing them across the room. You felt a force grab you, like invisible hands clutching at your arms before you were tossed like a ragdoll against the wall.

Your head collided with the drywall with enough impact that you felt yourself growing dizzy in an instant. You were so caught off guard you could only barely focus on the others as Dean cried out for his family before he too was thrown around.

Claws slashed at your arms, cutting through your jacket as blood began to seep through the wounds. You cried out, screaming as whatever had you did just barely enough damage to make sure you weren’t able to fight back.

“Shut your eyes!” Sam ordered over the chaos. “These things are shadow demons, so let’s light ‘em up!”

Barely having enough time to react, you squeezed your eyes shut just like he’d told you all to do. Behind your eyelids you saw the brightest of lights fill the room as Sam did something to banish the shadow demons. They screeched and screamed as the light erased them from existence momentarily.

Hands were grabbing you again in a matter of seconds, only they were gentler. You could sense they belonged to Sam without needing to open your eyes. Letting him grab you, you let him guide you out of the room as Dean hurried to help John before the four of you rushed out of the hotel as quickly as you could.

Leaning on Sam, your eyes now open, you let him rush you over to Baby. He’d grabbed the duffle bag of supplies before leaving the room at some point. Once he was certain you were steady enough, he let you go and threw the bag into the back of the car before turning his attention back to you.

His hands and eyes searched everywhere, taking in your injuries. “How bad are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, grabbing his hands to stop him.

Letting his hands stop, he watched as yours slipped into his grasp before he gave them a gentle squeeze. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against yours as he let his breathing calm down, along with his rapidly beating heart.

As Dean and John caught up, Sam then pulled away to turn to them. “We don’t have much time. As soon as the flare’s out, they’ll be back.”

Dean shook his head as they came to a stop by the two of you. “Wait, wait, wait! Sam, wait. Dad, you can’t come with us.”

Sam was clearly shocked. “What? What are you talkin’ about?”

“You… you’re beat to hell,” John started to argue.

But Dean was adamant, “We’ll be alright.”

“Dean, we should stick together. We’ll go after those demons-”

He cut Sam off, “Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don’t you understand? They’re not gonna stop. They’re gonna try again. They’re gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He- he’s stronger without us around.”

Leaning against Baby, you watched the three Alphas, sensing them trying to out scent each other to win the argument. As they stood there it was becoming more and more clear that John was beginning to agree with Dean.

Sam shook his head. “Dad, no.” He reached out to rest his hand on his father’s shoulder. “After everything… after all the time we spent lookin’ for you- Please. I gotta be a part of this fight.”

“Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play,” John explained. “For now, you’ve got to trust me, son. Okay, you’ve gotta let me go.”

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Sam nodded, letting his hand fall from his father’s shoulder in a sign of defeat.

Knowing he could go without either of his sons fighting him on it, John stepped away from them, getting ready to leave. Only before he could walk off to his truck, which was parked at the other end of the ally, he turned to you.

“You should come with me.”

Your mouth gaped open and closed out of shock. “Wha… what?”

“I know you’re hunting with them,” he started. “I know you’re putting yourself in danger, and I know they’re encouraging it. You’ll be safer with me,” he explained as he reached his hand out expectantly, waiting for you to take it and go with him.

The thing is… you would be miserable with him. You knew it, deep down. He would have you locked away in your hotel room, tucked away from anyone who might harm you. Anything that might harm you. But that was harmful in its own way. In a depression, anxiety, bad thoughts and bad mental place kind of way.

But how could you say no to the man who saved your life? Didn’t you owe him everything? Until challenged, he was your Alpha, right? So how were you supposed to deny his request?

No answer came to mind, so you did the one thing your body was screaming at you to do.

Slinking back, you found yourself sliding into Sam’s side as you shook your head. “No.”

John looked at you dumbfounded. He was completely shocked and confused, and you even spotted a hint of betrayal in his eyes. But he didn’t fight you on your decision, and you realised in that moment the two of you were experiencing your first disobedience against him.

Lowering his hand, he turned his back on the three of you and started towards his truck. When he reached it he paused and turned to look at your little group one last time before he got into the truck and drove off.

Sam’s arm wrapped around you as he led you to Baby and guided you into the backseat. Neither of the brothers commented on the decision you’d made as they got into the front. Not even Dean questioned why you’d denied their father as he started the car.

In fact, if you didn’t know any better… you swore you could sense relief in both of them as Dean began to drive off in the opposite direction of their pack Alpha.

Bamby

#alpha!dean fic #alpha!dean fanfiction #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omega!you #alpha!sam fic #alpha!sam fanfiction #alpha!sam x omega!reader #alpha!sam x omega!you #her saviours

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inkedmyths · 2 years

Text

S1: E22 "Devil's Trap"

Brought to you by hey so each and every one of you who made me watch this. You all suck. This is the worst. I hate it here. What sort of BULLSHIT was that—

This episode featuring: Odd interrogation techniques, family dynamics, bodysnatching, and one deeply upset Ink

Banging opening music

I will not fall doooown... when push comes to shove I will rise above... jammin

Here we fuckin go the boys are off to save or avenge their dad

[ Kayla asks if one of the opening montages has used Carry On My Wayward Son. I said no, because I would definitely remember that. ]

Where are we

What the dog doin

Holy water and whiskey. Mood.

Oh this be Bobby

[ Kayla and Crepe cheer. They love Bobby. ]

SCREAMS. JOHN JUST HAS THAT AFFECT ON PEOPLE (referring to when he threatened to shoot John) oh I like him already

Satanic Roach Hotel

Ohh. Bad year. Most years 4 possessions, but this one had at least 27...... well thats rough

UH OH

MEG

DEAN

Fuck off Meg

"Chuckleheads" GREAT word use Meg

GOTTEM

Okaaaay interrogation time

"Where's our father, Meg"

"You didn’t ask very nice"

"Where's our father, bitch"

Goddammit whys he so funny

Oh shes posessed

I dunno about innocent

Oh good news bc it means they can yeet the demon, yea?

"Hit it Sam" (begins praying)

[ Winchesters latest hit single in Christian Rap sweeps midwestern protestant congregations as a big hit! ]

Dean buddyyyy

Uh getting spookyyyyy

This is wild. Interrogation via exorcism

What the fuck are u gonna do here like what do u do

Shes dead but not but whats up

UHHHH WELL THATS FUCKING. SOMETHING

Hello ma'am

That sucks ass. Being exorcised certainly doesn't seem fun, esp when you got dropped from a building

A year............ bro.......

Poor gal...

As I went down to the river....

Oh she gone.............

:((

STOP ZOOMING IN ON HER DEAD FACE

"You guys think you invented lying to the cops?" lmao thanks bobby

"I won't even try to shoot him this time"

[ Crepe asks Kayla if Meg is the woman Bobby has buried in his garden or if that's someone else. Concerning. ]

SCREAMS hes making the car safe and Dean is like MY CAR

Dean just wants his family to stop being self sacrificing. Hypocrite

Sunrise Apartments!

Building full of human shields... thats a problem

Pull the fire alarm lol

Oh those people are SO posessed

Yep there he is, tied u— hm. I don't. Like that actually

"I've got a Yorkie upstairs, and he pees when he's nervous—" Dean for funniest liar

THEY STOLE THE FIREFIGHTERS FITS

Demon? Demön?

Holy water!!

Hes still breathing hes not dead yet

But he might be posessed

Oh just had to check

Uh oh someone else just got posessed

And another....

Aha... the colt

[ Kayla: Uhhh I'm here for the colt stuff - the Winchesters]

2 bullets left!

Alright. Now what

Fambily

Dean can and will kill for his family huh

Uh oh zappy lights

The demon's here!

Uh oh

Something is wrong

OH SHIT

Sam going AAA

AUGH WHATS HAPPENING

I DONT KNOW

WHAT IS THISSSSS

Bullshit bullshit

Me: DEAN WAS RIGHT

Kayla: and why was he right :)

Me: Bc he would have been pissed :(

Kayla: and never proud :)

Kayla: (therapy voice) and how did that make you feel

Me: I hate it here

Kayla: elaborate on that

Me: I haaaate it here

Kayla: mhm mhm (writing stuff down)

"What are you and God going to do?" dammmn

Justice for WHAT

Oh so a demon cares about its family

Good for him but also you were already trying to kill them before??

Yeah? Why?

What's your angle here

Huhhhhh. What the fuck do you want with Sam

"I really can't stand all your monologuing"

Oooough hitting him where it hurts damn

OOOH DAMN DEAN THROWING SHADE BACK

How are u guys goimg to get out of this

Oh shit oh SHIT

AAAAAAAAA

OH THE LEG!! SMART!!!!!!

Oh fuck man

Bro it fucking leaving

Well this is an Awkward Family Ride

Kayla: awkward family ride abt to

TRUCK

What the fuck what the fuck

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS

BRO WHAT

THATS IT FOR SEASON 1??

BULLSHIT

---

My so-called friends then proceeded to point, laugh, and heckle me for the next 10 minutes. This is bullshit I hope you know. Stupid goddamn cliffhangers stupid Winchesters and their STUPID FAMILY NONSENSE—

#on the highway to superhell #supernatural #spn #...season 1........done........#(head in my hands)#why. why have you people done this to me. why would you DO this

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mlobsters · 1 year

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tw suicide

supernatural s8e19 taxi driver (w. eugenie ross-leming, brad buckner)

what is this music, are we in a police procedural??? daily gripe that this show would have been so much better with a different score

all right a lot happening here. bobby's in hell??? the trial requires getting an innocent soul out of hell into heaven, well gee. what a COINKYDINK. but sam's off to do the quest by himself, dean must be freakin out

"so this is hell?" sure looks like purgatory. but that made me realize i hadn't determined if sam remembers the cage at all since castiel took the hallucinations etc away. has the show said?

SAM Wait. So you're not coming with me? AJAY Don't be ridiculous. Smuggling a mortal across the border is risky enough. But gate-crashing a Winchester into Hell seriously blows.

cute way to put it

KEVIN Just tell me when this all ends, 'cause that's the only thing I want to hear. DEAN No, like I told you before, this isn't going to end. Look, man, other guys, they got it easy, you know? It's all backyard barbecues and... bowling teams, but you and me? We got to carry a little extra weight. KEVIN I can't take it. DEAN Yes, you can. Hey, look at me. Now, this whole thing sucks. I know. But you suck it up and you push through because that's what we do. And when you get on board with that, the ride is a lot smoother. French fry?

dean channeling john winchester. also reminds me when dean was breaking down in the hospital after castiel told him he had to stop the apocalypse

from s4e16 on the head of a pin: DEAN Is it true? Did I break the first seal? Did I start all this? CASTIEL Yes. When we discovered Lilith's plan for you, we laid siege to hell and we fought our way to get to you before you— DEAN Jump-started the apocalypse. CASTIEL And we were too late. DEAN Why didn't you just leave me there, then? CASTIEL It's not blame that falls on you, Dean, it's fate. The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it. You have to stop it.

just made me think about sam being the righteous man that stopped it.. anyway, what i was originally thinking about in contrast was how it continues:

DEAN Lucifer? The apocalypse? What does that mean? Hey! Don't you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. What does that mean! CASTIEL I don't know. DEAN Bull. CASTIEL I don't. Dean, they don't tell me much. I know our fate rests with you. DEAN Well, then you guys are screwed. I can't do it, Cas. It's too big. Alastair was right. I'm not all here. I'm not—I'm not strong enough. Well, I guess I'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be. Find someone else. It's not me.

thought of that because it's such a similar situation. but i mean dean has been on this ride so many times... just recent iteration with frank telling him he's killing himself the way he's working after bobby died, to be professional and smile through it and fake you're fine (coincidentally it was the krissy/baby teen wolf paige episode s7e11)

oh sam. my emotional state is doing the work here for being traumatizing for sam to be wandering in, because the looks and sounds of hell here are very... xena production quality, just a little darker. though if sam doesn't remember the cage anymore, maybe there's no trauma to be had!

also, why did he take off his watch and put it on the wall, the watch specifically seems like a bad thing to remove? and what's that about hell time being different, so dean's 4 months was 40 years boop boop does that mean sam's gotta stay down there 117 days for 24 hours to pass topside? or does that only apply to being tortured. too high to logic (or my pet theory did they make that time inflation just for more dean whump and promptly forgot about it)

CROWLEY Something is going on. My Hellhound has been killed. Winchester jumbo size is trying to break into the mother ship.

low hanging fruit but i laughed

they really lean into benny talking to dean like a boyfriend

BENNY So good to hear your voice, Dean. I mean that. DEAN How you been? BENNY Oh, you know... I get by. DEAN I guess I let you down, huh? BENNY Look, I'm, uh... I'm just happy as hell to hear from you.

poor benny. so what, dean's gonna ask him to die to go to purgatory, help sam and bobby, take a ride in sam's arm back to earth? lol

oh benny. agh. feelings!

BENNY Wow. When Dean Winchester asks for a favor, he's not screwing around. DEAN Benny, sending you back there is the last thing I ever wanted to do. BENNY I know. I know. DEAN But my little brother is stuck down there. BENNY This would be the little brother who wants to kill me, right? DEAN You got access to the place. BENNY By "access," you mean "getting beheaded"? DEAN Yeah, you're right – it's too much. It's not like I've exactly been there for you lately. [DEAN's voice shakes.]

oh no. benny's gettin the ellen/jo/meg treatment too now. no wonder he's bein so charming and sweet, dean's being vulnerable..

BENNY Oh, you don't owe me nothing. Truth is, uh... I could use a break from all this. DEAN It really been that tough? BENNY I'm not a good fit, Dean. Not with vampires and, for sure, not with the humans. I don't belong. And after a while... that starts to wear on you. Right? Cry me a river. Like you need to listen to this. DEAN Well, when you get back up here, we're gonna fix all that, okay? BENNY When I get back? DEAN Yeah, you find the portal, and your ride out of Purgatory with Sam just like you did with me, okay? As soon as I send you back, I'm gonna haul my ass up to Maine, and I'm gonna be waiting there for you when you get topside. BENNY Yeah. That sounds like a plan, chief. Let's get on with it.

ok but talking like that is very... suicidal sounding. and clearly setting up that he's not going to come back. don't like it

sitting here thinking i wasn't expecting to have a sobbing breakdown over benny, why is this so much worse than jo and ellen. and i think it's because like, what he said. about not fitting in with anyone, how it wears on you. those are real life things we (i) deal with. that may also include suicidal ideation. it's not blowing up hellhounds with your daughter who died before she could set it off. yeah the supernatural aspect is what's causing those feelings, but those are very real life feelings too.

to deflect from how i am feeling, something something literally killing your ex to get your brotherhusband back. this is fucking awful.

BOBBY Dean spent a year in this place? SAM Running and fighting, all day, every day. BOBBY Must have been hell on you not being able to get him out all that time. You did try? SAM Look, Bobby, Dean and I had an agreement, okay? BOBBY I know that agreement. I taught you that agreement. That's a non-agreement.

bobby agrees it's out of character

and now benny gets to tell him that he's staying, right. like in the abyss

the abyss (1989)

least we got a hug out of it, i guess

blegh

(i'm a big bag of trauma over someone real close to me that died by suicide, combined with my own depression issues and sometimes stuff like this is a stab in the gut of all that)

#supernatural #spnwatch #tw suicide #spn 8x19 #benny lafitte #the abyss #spn 4x16 #eugenie ross leming #brad buckner

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abbatoirablaze · 1 year

Text

At Death's Door, Chapter 1

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: foul language, character death, demons, manipulation.

“This isn’t right. You know that it isn’t right,” I sighed, “please Azazel…don’t do this.”

He turned towards me, unsympathetic to my plights; the smallest of smirks widening his features, “you are asking me to go against your father’s orders, little one...”

“Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Lilith laughed, her own smirk perching itself on her face, “two rule breakers…like peas in a pod.”

I glared at her, “and how would my father like to hear you are talking about him like that?”

“He knows that I’m a true follower,” she said, returning my glare through the eyes of a child, “I can joke, but when the time comes…I know my role. Just as you need to play yours, Dahlia. You can’t continue to play guardian angel to them!”

“I’m not helping you,” I growled. I turned to my father’s follower, his yellow eyes glimmering beneath the streetlight, “please, leave the Winchesters alone, Azazel.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he replied, his wicked grin returning towards the home that was barely lit, “Mary gave me permission. That’s not just anything a demon can get…she’s already allowed me this. She invited me into her home.”

“She didn’t know,” I said, trying to defend her, “sh-“

“Enough,” he said firmly. My breath caught in my throat as I looked at the demon, “If you aren’t going to help, that’s fine. But stay out of my way. I’m not going to return without completing my mission.”

“I won’t let you!“

“Won’t let him, huh?” Lilith asked. She snapped her fingers and I felt something constricting me. I looked down to see a gold rope around me. It glowed ever so slightly, “Why do you think he brought me along, little sister?”

“You are not my sister,” I seethed, trying to get out of the binding spell she had me under, “you’re nothing more than dirt under my shoe.”

“Same father,” she laughed, “Just because I didn’t come from that filthy huma-“

“That filthy human has been running hell in my father’s absence,” I growled, mocking her own words, “choose what you say next very wisely Lilith. You know that my father doesn’t take kindly to anyone disrespecting my mother.”

She raised a brow at me, then turned to Azazel, “Persephone doesn’t scare me. She’s bound. Just as you are…now do your job and follow the rules, Dahlia.”

“This is your father’s wish. We need the boy,” he said sadly, reaching up and touching my face, “I’m sorry, little one.”

“I’m going to kill you one day…the both of you.”

“Looking forward to it,” she smirked. She snapped her fingers and suddenly we were in the house. We were in the corner of the nursery. Little Samuel Winchester had turned six months old today. I swallowed hard, “I don’t want to watch this. Bind me, but do not make me watch this!”

“You are on Earth,” she said, “We knew you would sense John is in trouble and come running to protect him. You always have. We are being cautious. We had to bring you, in order to make sure you don’t mess it up.”

“Come on, lets say goodnight to your brother,” Mary smiled from the door, holding a four year old Dean. She put him on the ground and he ran over to his six-month-old baby brother.

“Night Sam,” he said, kissing his forehead. Mary joined him at the crib and put a hand over her son’s back.

“Good night ,” she said, kissing him as well, “I love you, my sweet child!”

“Aww,” she hissed, “how cute. Such a happy little family.”

“Hey Dean,” John said with a big grin. Dean’s face lit up as he realized that his father was at the door, “What are you doing, champ?”

“And look,” she grinned, “looks like fatherhood suits John rather well.”

I felt myself going pale.

“What, little sister. I thought you would be happy to see him…feelings change?”

“Go to hell,” I growled. She smirked, “you fucking cunt!”

“DADDY!” Dean exclaimed, running up to him.

“Hey buddy,” he laughed, picking him up, “What do you think? Do you think Sammy’s ready to toss around a football yet?”

I watched John, half heart-broken, half happy for him. He’d managed to live a normal life with Mary ever since Dean was born. Sure, he wasn’t rich, and there were some issues with jobs, but they had managed to find a way…and Mary had left hunting behind her. I wanted to reach out and touch him. I wanted desperately to warn him what was going to be unfolding so he and his family could run.

“No daddy,” he laughed, “Sammy is too small!”

“No?” he asked teasingly, tousling Dean’s hair, “you think so?”

“You got him?” Mary asked.

John nodded, “I got him.” Dean leaned into his father, hugging him, as Mary left the room, “Sweet dreams, Sam.”

The baby cooed as John turned off the lights and left to tuck Dean in. Lilith let go of me and she watched Sam, “it’s funny…these meat suits. Why do you care about them so much?”

“Call it a character defect,” I said, looking at the door, “I don’t care…”

“You can watch him…he won’t be able to see you. I made sure you are wearing Hannah’s reaper ring before I bound you. You can’t take it off.”

I didn’t bother to respond. I looked at my cousin’s ring that she’d left in my possession. She’d agreed to be reborn as a human and placed in the care of Bobby Singer. I’d agreed to do her bidding until she was re-awakened.

I went over to the bedroom to see John finishing tucking Dean in for bed. He ruffled his hair and turned the lights off. Mary walked past me, kissed Dean, and then John, before going to bed. I followed John downstairs where he began watching an old war movie. John fell asleep, and I put one of the blankets over him, kissing the top of his head.

“I miss you John,” I whispered into his hear. He shifted slightly but nestled closer into the recliner. I sat down on the couch watching him as he slept peacefully. Up until today I hadn’t known what had become of the Winchesters. I didn’t interfere since the night where Mary told John she was pregnant with Dean. Sure, I had demons checking up on them every once in a while but I hadn’t actually been anywhere near them, “I miss you so much!”

About halfway through the movie, the lights began to flicker.

Shit.

It was happening.

I ran back up the stairs just as Mary opened the door to her bedroom and made her way to the nursery. I heard her asking ‘John’ if the baby was hungry. Azazel shushed her, and she pushed the thought off, before heading back to me. I leaned against the wall and she made her way to the light at the end of the hall, tapping it, before the once flickering light became whole again.

Shit.

She thinks everything is okay.

How do I let her know?

She’s a hunter.

She can stop it.

I need to give her a sign.

A light went off in my brain as I ran back down the stairs and to the television. I turned the volume up until I heard her coming down the stairs. Horror flashed across her face as she realized that John was sleeping in the recliner.

When she began to run up the stairs, calling for Sammy, Lilith appeared behind me, “wrong choice little sister! We were going to let her live…but not now.”

She was laughing. Mary screamed, waking John.

“NO!” I called out, racing up the stairs after John. He was calling wildly for Mary, bursting into Sams’ nursery.

Sammy was in the crib, peacefully cooing. A look of relief crossed Johns face as he went up to the crib and looked at his son. A drop of blood fell beside Sam’s head.

“Shit. No. No. No. No,” I called out, as I ran from the room. John hadn’t seen Mary pinned to the ceiling. I ran into Dean’s room, and began making noises, trying to wake him up.

“You’re free,” I heard Lilith whisper. I saw the shackles disappear and the rope around me faded. I pulled my ring off. I had to warn Dean or the whole family would burn. I shifted into a younger form, and shook the little boy awake.

“Who are you?” Dean asked, waking up.

“Your guardian angel,” I whispered, pulling him out of bed, “come on.”

“You’re pretty,” he smiled, “you’re so pretty, I-“

I shook my head, cutting the young boy off, “Come on. We need to get out of here!”

I led him out to the hall, just as John came running out of the room. I let go of Dean’s hand and put my ring back on.

“Daddy!” Dean exclaimed. He turned to look for me, but I was invisible to him again.

“Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Don’t look back. NOW, DEAN, GO!”

Chapter 2

#supernatural #at death's door #john winchester #mary winchester #azazel #demons #death #dean winchester #sam winchester #lilith #hell

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rosemariad · 17 days

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SUPERNATURAL SEASON 15 - final season - bitter end part 2

See p1 here | https://www.tumblr.com/rosemariad/761290454081929216/supernatural-season-15-final-season-part-1-i

OH MY LORD – FINALLY – a FUCKING APOLOGY, from Dean. Winchester.

And it happened in purgaytory 😉 lol. Moment of silence for dead Benny :/

I wish we could've gotten a shot of Cas listening to him. We've always seen Dean pray to Cas but we never see Cas hear them on his end, like when Jack was hearing Sam's prayer. I think that would've been dope as fuck to see Castiel's reaction. When Cas & Dean finally do catch up to one another, Cas seems so...reserved. I feel like He knew DAMN well (like 90%) what Dean might say (or maybe he's so in denial about the possibility that Dean could return his affections in that way)

How are we almost halfway to the end and this is the first time we’ve seen Jack at all during this FINAL season? You introduce him in episode 12.23, you kill him (twice) and we don’t even get to see how he’s doing? We know he’s in the empty from 14x20’s closing montage.

15x10 was a pretty decent episode since we got to see Garth again ☺️ & he's settled into the domestic life with his wife Bessie - they had twins and a older daughter & neither child is named after Dean (🤣 Serves him right these days, since he's being such a douche!) wonder why Garth chose to name his baby after Cas though…did they ever interact? I don't recall…Watching Sam meet baby Sam is precious

(also how wild is it that the Garth & Benny actors are a married couple now? SPN man, they should've had a dating show given how many relationships came outta 1 production that lasted 15 yrs!)

Watching Sam sniff and cough & sneeze post-COVID is wild!

Taking on that giant monster was Hilarious - this was what SPN was missing - definitely peak content! Look at those hunter guys get reduced to regular chumps 🤣 fantastic!

Was Dean scared of the dentist? Had he ever BEEN to a dentist? Wow John, you couldn't take your son to a damn dentist - with all the junk food that boy eats? Even so, you want him running around without teeth?

Watching Sam writhe around with some cure all Bessie learned from her dad (he's dead I guess?) was equally hilarious!

WTF was with Dean's hallucination? These writers are trippin - out of all the things you could've done, you make Dean & Garth tap dance? What was the point? And some oldies shit? Sure Dean would've been exposed to reruns of the good ol' days but that’s never really been his interest before? And the lamp at the end? TF? I've read some posts about what others thinking it all means but I say the artistic direction is wack. But all aside the dentist Garth bit is awesome!

Garth couldn't have said it better - being the hero/protagonist is a drag - more so for comic book heroes cuz of the tragic backstory but in the Winchesters' case - it suuuuuuuuuucks.

I'm all for some Winchester humble pie. SPN should be normal people problems show mixed with cooky supernatural shenanigans. It would never get old 😂

Dean why did you think you could gobble down 7 grilled cheese sandwiches - all that dairy - oh man. So I guess that's normal for him…bad, real bad. Normal Dean would be dead in a week 🤣🤣

Anyway Garth swooping in to save the day for a change, is a welcome change ☺️ [is this the last time we'll see him in the show though? 😥]

Interesting how they seem to keep switching back & forth between how hopeless the odds are in going against the big G.O.D. to no we're gonna find a way cuz we're the Winchesters & that’s what we do. Yeah okay 🤣

Jack's been hunting & eating Grigori hearts - damn. Not looking forward to why…

Meanwhile we get more backstory on all the other gods in human history through Fortuna, goddess of luck/fortune? Interesting, it seems like God allowed others to be worshipped so they could suffer the bad PR when things when wrong for people & they would get the blame (pretty sure plenty people still blame God for bad stuff all the time — like Dean 😅).

Good for Sam fighting for those people stuck under Fortuna's thumb. Small victories though…

Kaia survived, but I know we'll never see her again now. No reunion w/ Claire, or the others…wah 😔 meanwhile Alt!Kaia is definitely dead, we saw her face her end - way to take out that plot device writers 🙄

Dean seems pretty gung-ho on taking out God & Amara - buddy I know you feel helpless but there is no cosmic entity that is gonna be on your side all the time. The control freak inside him is going rabid y'all he's convinced that it’s the only way out but neglects to answer the question - if God (and Amara - cold by the way - is he punishing her for Mary? Amara was the one who brought her back in the first place) is taken out, what happens to the universe?

Jack is still giving me those intern vibes - Cas WTF were you thinking? I know you didn't forget about that deal…but damn if he ain't a team player, always willing to risk it all to help his precious Dean bean & the baby bro Sam.

I love how the brothers took Jo/Anael at her word - like really? There was no other way to investigate the veracity of her story than by simply going to hell? Really? Also they couldn't squeeze in Rowena for 1 final appearance? Boo!

And what was Anael's last line about? What friends could she possibly be talking about? Did God have her set this up? Lead the guys on a wild goose chase to waste time? Who fucking knows anymore, but I guess it doesn't matter as this is technically Anael (& Ruby's) final scene in the show.

Ruby you're screwed - there's no way she got out and no way to know - anyway onto the plot!

Look at this family shot - precious!

So between this episode & 12x07 Sam's superpower is handling doors - keeps them open when he needs to & closed when he has to. Sam, keeper of the doors!

The Empty & Death Billie teamed up? Oh shit, that's gonna backfire fast!

Classic Dean Winchester move to call your beloved an idiot when you almost lost him….again. I can't keep track of the various close calls this angel had over the years.

Best gem of 15x13 - the Alternate Sam & Dean - affluent dudes who were raised by a successful business savvy John Winchester who raised his sons with a modicum of respect & some fashion sense it seems all the while building a supernatural hunting empire spanning the entire globe (damn). And at the end they went to Brazil? So canonically there's 2 sets of Sams & Deans running around - too bad nothing else will come out of that…they should've stolen the Impala - that shit would've been hilarious.

After all these years we finally got to see THE Garden of Eden. It would've been cool to see it sooner in the show but oh well. The trip seems to have given Jack the ability to feel again, get his soul back. And he is wracked with guilt over Mary as if we didn’t have enough of that to deal with…

The words you're looking for guys is I FORGIVE YOU! Like he's a kid, it was an accident & he's clearly fucking sorry for it, the guilt is tearing him apart, you're not blind you can see it but God forbid either Winchester just says the magic words.

Now Mrs. Butters - I'm not cool with that shit at all. I peeped immediately based on the 1st scene that she wasn't there willingly. Why would she? She's a fucking wood nymph and while there's a bunch of trees outside, the bunker sure as shit ain't no forest. Someone forced her to work in that bunker & the fact that imagery of Cuthbert Sinclair keeps coming up confirms it.

She was probably their slave - that's so fucked. And Sinclair tortured her into obedience. That poor creature…she deserved so much better. shame on Sam & Dean for using that poor woman - you can't find the time to cook & clean up after yourselves? - I know Dean is good at it. But no, SPN had to set women back decades and force Mrs. Butters into waiting on them hand and foot. Shame, damn shame. Thankfully they eventually let her go, but only cuz Jack's life was in jeopardy and god forbid the Winchesters lose their handy ace in the hole when their maid/slave gets murderous. Really Dean, ‘just start over’?!, she threatened your kid you dumbass, do you really want someone to take care of you that fucking bad? WTF?!?!

All those feasts & Cas never showed up once -- bullshit!!!! Bullshit I say!

Apparently when Cas does eventually return to the screen & wraps up some trouble w/ Jack (aww he wanted to wear matching ties! And he has a teddy bear? Did Cas give him one? He gave one to Claire a couple of seasons ago) jack spills that he's meant to die & sacrifice himself to take out God & Amara. I know you're not on board Cas but speak up. Why is everyone so afraid to stand up to Dean Jesus Christ. He's just a man, sure he'll punch you but that just means you hit back or you know, don't let him punch you!

We get 1 final glimpse into Sam & Dean's childhood. Pro tip Dean: if you want your baby bro to stick around, don't ridicule his goals or call him stupid. Just a thought (I know he's a kid himself but that's what I would've said to the kid) but hey ultimately none of it matters right, jeez 😒

The lady lied to the brothers to get them to show up, did you ever think to incentivize them with money? It wouldn't take much, they probably wouldn't even take it or you know just tell them the truth, they're hunters it's what they do.

It's the baba yaga? It almost got to Dean but thankfully Sam was conveniently there to break the spell or whatever was gonna try to make Dean kill himself. The vic, Travis, apparently had the entity's ring all this time so it's back for revenge? And to eat ofc it's hungry. Too bad she failed cuz she's dead as one of the final MOTW ever on SPN. And just when we thought Dean made progress he ruins it by being supremely committed to Billie's plan -- cuz God forbid Sam bring up ethical questions into plotting someone's murder Dean, even if it is about cosmic entities and you know, your kid, Jack. Will the real Dean Winchester stand up cuz I think he wouldn't do this under any other circumstances. If I were Sam I would've jumped out of that car in pure disgust. Sam seemed inclined to do that.

Anyway the Jack suicide bomb plan ultimately didn't matter either cuz Amara ends up siding w/ Chuck after he makes her see that Dean was actually planning on killing her along w/ her brother.

Side bar - I love how she just had a whole season's long vacation just enjoying what the planet had to offer before her end. Can't say she didn't try to work things out - with the Winchesters or God. But hey, I know what's up - it's all about the men in this show 🙄

Saying Jack's not family - how fucking dare you! but also another example of inconsistent behavior from Dean - 1 minute he's concerned, the next he's dismissive & neglectful, then the next he cares (emotional whiplash), then he sees Jack as nothing more than a loose-end for fuck's sake Dean pick a lane & make up your damn mind, fuck!

Anyways, Sam should've smacked the shit outta Dean. He deserves it. But I get it Dean, you can't live w/o Sam or Cas but watching Jack die is no big since he took your mommy away, whatever asshole. Then he feels bad, but I feel it's only cuz he can't sit pretty on his high horse knowing the kid heard how little Dean cares for him right now.

Why did Sam & Cas let Jack run off w/ Dean? I sure wouldn't have 😡.

So because Billie's plan went tits up (big surprise there & really Billie you were expecting them not to fuck up, really?) God escaped & in the next, infamous episode of 15x18 people start getting Thanos'd. Endgamed. Disappeared.

Alt!Charlie & her girlfriend Stevie - gone. Eileen, Sam's current GF, gone. Alt!Bobby, gone. The other folks from Apocalypse World - gone.

But Donna gets got too - because Sam & Dean intervened all the way back in her premiere episode (was that season 8? I forget). Did everyone just get disappeared - like everyone Sam, Dean & John saved (that's my headcanon anyhow)? But it doesn’t even stop there…

Hold up - wait a minute - I’m gonna talk about the Destiel moment in 15x18 but I’m gonna save it for a separate post cuz I got to get all that stuff off my chest…https://www.tumblr.com/rosemariad/761296693532803072/the-bitter-end-spn-15x18-despair-about-that

Anywho:

Everyone gets disappeared. I see they were inspired by that Avengers movie 😅 I wonder if they went through the same experience the Marvel folk did canonically…(its that no one remembers what happened to them if they got blipped right?)

15x19 felt so rushed to me did anyone else feel that way?

Jack asks what happened to Cas (RIP you beautiful angel 😭) but Dean just offers a simple explanation. After countless days of misery and drinking, Jack prompts the brothers to drive around and Dean finds a dog only to have it disappear like everyone else - there's no way Chuck missed the dog, he just wanted Dean to bond with her so he could feel her loss too. Damn. So vengeful.

The Winchesters say they surrender but at this point I wouldn't believe them and apparently it was all part of their master plan. They ran into Michael (who's lost Adam at this point RIP Adam, again) and Dean calls Michael out as a daddy's boy but you would know wouldn't you Dean 🤣 game recognize game

When Dean got that phone call & ran up those steps, oh Dean you poor miserable bastard.

The devil, conveniently back from the void from whence he came, scrounges up a reaper - why are there reapers at this point (isn’t everyone gone anyways?) was she brought from the Empty? Kill her so she can be Death # 3 and open up the mysterious book that describes God's imminent demise but the devil killed her one more time before she could finish cuz he's God's favorite now (so he says Chuck says 🙄) pissing off Michael but as the brothers explained later this would all work in their favor but RIP Jessica - last female figure to be killed off on SPN? She basically died for nothing as Sam & dean came up w/ a new plan.

While the archangels squab, Michael gets the upper hand and finally kills Lucifer (so how was this fight going to devastate the planet cuz the bunker didn't even get messed up or nothing - very underwhelming since this is technically the last we’ll see of the devil in the show) & later Michael snitches to God when everyone drives out to summon Chuck to try killing him off once and for all. Then Michael dies cuz God is tired of him I guess (sure he said it’s cuz Michael dique betrayed him but I mean do you even care about that?) sucks for Mike I guess 🤷🏽‍♀️

All the celestial fighting was apparently powering up Jack after he juiced himself up for that bomb & couldn't kill off God sooner. by the end of the episode Jack siphons the remaining energy out of Chuck and instead of squashing him like a bug they all just decide to walk away, leaving Chuck Shurley a mortal, ordinary man to die off on his own (omg the way he squealed as he ditched him, geez 🤦🏾‍♀️).

This is why you should've just destroyed them Chuck! You'd think he'd know better than to savor their doom. Tsk tsk.

I would've shot him, burned him and had Jack disintegrate the ashes to nothing. But fuck being thorough I guess 🤣

Jack brings everyone back & leaves the brothers (I would've done the same, fuck those Winchesters, Sam's alright but Dean is just ugh at this point) & Aside from Rowena I can't think of anyone else who ends up with a win like Jack. He was born the Nephilim of Lucifer but ended up becoming a noble God.

I also gotta vent about that last episode - https://www.tumblr.com/rosemariad/761299089485889536/supernatural-season-15-the-bitter-end-series

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #deancas #destiel #jack kline #supernatural season 15 #bobby singer #jody mills #donna hanscum #garth fitzgerald iv #spn final season #chuck shurley #rowena macleod

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klove0511 · 8 months

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It's Rest I Want Chapter 1

The late August air was chilly, unseasonably so. The bright sunlight had grown golden as afternoon stretched into evening, and still Dean didn’t move. He felt like he was frozen to the spot, watching the flames dance on his brother’s pyre. They had burned low a while ago, and it wouldn’t be much longer before they were glowing embers, then cold and dead like the body they’d taken with them. Dean took a swig from the whiskey bottle in his hand, dully noting that it was nearly empty. There might be another in the car; he couldn’t remember if he’d drunk it yet.

Fucking piece of shit car. It was a loaner from Bobby, a hunk of junk that barely worked. It got the job done well enough, he supposed, but it wasn’t his Baby. Baby was torn up and broken too, still a twisted wreck from the semi. He had managed to fix some of the damage while— Dean blinked his vision clear, swallowed past the lump in his throat. Best not to think about the car.

At some point he would have to move. Have to leave. He couldn’t let himself die of exposure in the woods next to Sam, not yet. Not when there was work to do. Work. He took another swig of whiskey, hoping it would push down the nausea. He'd hunted alone before, of course, but this would be different. Sam wasn't away at college this time, and Dean wasn't hunting ghosts and werewolves.

Dean shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and tightening his grip on the neck of the bottle. “I promise I'll get him for you, Sam. Both of them. I don't—” He swallowed hard, fighting to control his face, his voice. “I don't know why he did it. All our lives, you were the one we had to protect. I know you didn't see it, not like I did, but he loved you.” He chuckled bleakly. “Loved you more than me. It's why he got so pissed about you leaving. He only ever got that mad when you got hurt. When I didn't do my job keeping you safe. So this—” His mouth worked, trying to find words for this impossible situation. “I don't know why. But I promise, Sam. I promise I will make him pay. And then I'll get the demon, for his part in this. For Jess, for Mom.” He finished the whiskey and ignored how blurry the fire was. “I'm so sorry I failed you, Sam.”

Dean could have sworn he felt a soft thump on his shoulder.

Dusk had fully settled in by the time the pyre was burned down to embers. It was time to go.

John replayed the voicemail from Bobby for the third time. His friend—well, former friend—was drunk, furious. He didn't blame Bobby. Hell, John knew he deserved every word directed at him and then some. He replayed the message a fourth time.

“Damn it, John. What the hell were you thinking? A fake spell? You'd do that to Dean? I knew you were a stubborn, selfish son of a bitch, but I didn't think you were capable of— of murdering your own kid. Sam's dead, by the way, though I'm sure you know that considering how much work you put into orchestrating it. I suppose it wasn't enough to kill Sam, though. You had to use me, too. Get Dean's hopes up, when you knew damn well it wasn't going to work. He's out there burning his brother right now. You damn Winchesters.” Bobby took a shuddering breath. “Lose my number, John. And if you know what's good for you, you'll stay the hell away from South Dakota from now on.”

John pressed the edge of his phone into his forehead. He'd known Bobby wouldn't understand. Dean either. They didn't have to. He didn't regret what he'd done because Sam was safely out of Azazel's reach. Let them be angry.

He replayed the message for the fifth time.

The house was silent when Dean got back. It was mid-morning, and he'd expected Bobby to be up and about already. Maybe he was already in the shop, working. Dean wandered the first floor, trying to decide if he cared that it was too early to start drinking. Bobby turned out to be in the study, making the same decision. Well. It looked like Bobby had already decided he didn't care, judging from the whiskey he was reaching for when Dean walked in.

Dean grabbed himself a glass, flopped into the chair across from Bobby, and held it out. Bobby only hesitated a moment before pouring Dean a drink too. Bobby's expression was unreadable, but Dean thought his shoulders seemed to relax a little. They drank in silence for a while.

Later, Dean would go out, continue working on the Impala. It was still in pieces, and repairs had been slow while Sam was in the hospital. Doing something with his hands would be a good way to shut his brain up. He kept replaying the last few days, wondering if he could have changed anything. Of course he could have. Should have. Would have, if he'd only listened to Sam. Dean's loyalty to John had blinded him, and Sam had paid the price.

Dean went to take a gulp of his whiskey, found the glass empty. He frowned at it, then reached for the bottle. Bobby's eyebrows raised, but he didn't say anything.

Good, Dean thought. Not like the old man had room to talk. He had believed the spell was real too. Fuck John. Dean stewed on that thought a while, letting the righteous anger fill the Sam-shaped hole in him. He drained his glass, reaching again for the bottle.

Bobby's look was harder this time. Dean glared back, daring him to challenge how he chose to cope. Bobby frowned and drained his own glass, then poured another and said, “When you didn't come back last night, I figured you was fixing to do something stupid.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at Bobby over his glass. “Stupid how?”

Bobby just shook his head. “Don't matter. Just glad you made it back safe.” They drank in silence a few more minutes, and Dean was considering if he was too drunk to make it upstairs to the shower when Bobby said, “What're you going to do?”

It took a minute to process that Bobby was asking what Dean was going to do next week, next month, for the rest of his life now that Sam was dead. He didn't answer. He didn't know. It was hard to consider life past this drink. Dean shrugged minutely and said, “Fix the car. Can't stand that loaner, no offense.” He'd fix the car, sure, but after that he had no plan. Swearing vengeance in front of Sam's pyre was one thing, figuring out how to do it was something else entirely. Hunting, regular old hunting, was a bad idea. If he took a job right now then the odds were good that there'd be no vengeance at all. None of that was something he could tell Bobby. He didn't think he'd understand about John, would understand too well about hunting. No need to further burden the guy.

Bobby's gaze was calculating. He said carefully, “You let me know if you need any help,” then he downed the rest of his glass and headed outside, taking the bottle with him.

Three days later, John came to in a motel room that looked rather worse for wear. Empty bottles littered the floor, explaining the piercing headache that pounded behind his eyes. It took a lot to get him drunk, had for a long time, but he'd managed it. He rubbed grit from his eyes, noting dimly that they still felt swollen and dry, and fumbled for the clock. 2:38. Light filtered through the shut curtains, so it must be afternoon. He needed water and pain meds. The last time he'd gone on a bender this bad had been... Right. The memories from ’83 floated up, and he pushed them away again. It was in the past, now, and couldn't be changed. The best he could do was continue his hunt for Azazel and make sure no other families had to go through this too.

First things first. He rolled out of bed, head throbbing. Food was a good idea, but it would have to wait as he lurched toward the bathroom, barely making it before his stomach emptied itself. When he finally felt mostly human again several hours later, he loaded up the truck and set out. The last several weeks he’d stayed close to South Dakota, not willing to go too far while Sam was in the hospital. There was nothing keeping him close now, so he drove until he started to nod off. Then he pulled over, slept, and when he woke, he drove again. His only goal was to put distance between himself and Bobby. Demons could be summoned anywhere, and he didn't yet have any leads on where Azazel might be next. There were isolated safe houses out west that he could use, close enough to cities that he could stay connected, far enough away that the risk to civilians was minimal.

Time passed in a blur for a while after that. One day was largely the same as the next. Drive to town to get a paper and resupply. Back to the cabin, summon a demon. Interrogate the demon. Evaluate the intel. Sleep.

Dean slumped against the steel frame of the Impala, a half empty bottle of Jack in his hand. He was supposed to be fitting the doors today. He’d tried. But the rear door had been missing the green army man, and it had looked so wrong he’d had to stop. It was stupid, he thought, to be hung up on it. It was just a toy, and something that had annoyed John for years. It had annoyed Dean by proxy for almost as long. Now, though, he couldn’t imagine the car without it. He vividly remembered the day Sam had wedged it in there, and how mad John had gotten. The anger had lasted all of five minutes, but Sam had to make do with one less soldier from then on. When they were playing in the car, the one stuck in the ashtray became a scout or a prisoner to be rescued, depending on Sam’s mood. The point was that it belonged. Years of play and annoyance and everything else had made that dumb little toy a part of the Impala, and it felt wrong to replace the door with one that was missing it. The original wasn’t salvageable. It had crumpled along with the rest, but maybe the ashtray was intact. He’d have to find it and check.

Later. For now, he was going to finish his whiskey. Except when he went to take a drink, the bottle was already empty. Huh. He didn’t remember finishing the second half of the bottle, but it had been that kind of month. Shrugging, he hauled himself to his feet and tossed the bottle at the overfilled trash can in the corner of the shop. He should empty that sometime. Bobby would get on his case if he saw. Mostly for the drinking, but also just for letting it get that full. Broken glass was a hazard, and Dean knew better. Once he was upright, he felt like he could manage the rest of the doors, maybe.

Gravel crunched behind him.

“Damn it, Bobby, I told you I was fine. Can’t I get one goddamn minute to myse—” Dean trailed off as he turned around. No one was there. Glancing around himself, he looked for an obvious source of the noise. He didn’t find one, not even one of the strays that liked to frequent the junkyard, and his stomach swooped in fear. Or was that a thrill of hope?

“Bobby? That you?” A beat, no answer. Swallowing, he tentatively called out, “Sam?”

His eyes scanned the junkers, the shop, the half-wrecked Impala. No sounds, no answer. It couldn’t be Sam. He’d burned Sam’s body. Whatever he’d thought he’d felt as the pyre burned had been his imagination.

The EMF was useless. Dean didn’t know if the meter was busted or if there was some sort of interference at Bobby’s place that he didn’t know about, but every time he turned it on the damn thing flared to life. It didn’t matter if he was out in the garage, the junkyard, or up in Bobby’s spare room. Same reaction, every damn time. He’d been hopeful, the first time. Proof that he wasn’t going crazy and that there was something there. Now, not so much. He glared at it, chirping and wailing on the counter across the shop while he put the last touches on the car. If the high signals corresponded to any activity, then he’d be less skeptical, but it didn’t. Phantom footsteps didn’t cause a spike more reliably than standing next to it did.

Frustrated and finally accepting that it was broken, he flicked the off switch and cleaned up. With the Impala road ready, Dean was at a loss. Finding John had proven to be an impossible task so far. The whole country was in the search radius at this point, and Dean didn't have a clue where to even start. He'd been thinking lately that tracking John was an exercise in futility. Better, maybe, to try and track the thing he was hunting. Dean was sure he was still chasing the demon, probably blaming it for Sam's death instead of taking responsibility himself. The problem with that plan was that Dean was playing catch up and John had a 22-year lead. He didn't need to know everything John did about the demon, but he needed more information than he currently had.

What did he know? The thing went after kids. 6-month-old babies, specifically. The two targets he knew about were both psychic. The demon had “plans” for these kids, and he'd said it like there were a lot of them. The thing was powerful. It loved to set fires. That, unfortunately, made up the sum total of his knowledge. Targeted babies and liked arson. It wasn’t enough to go on.

Bobby was hanging up the phone when Dean came down the stairs after his shower. The hunter huffed in frustration, removing his ballcap and scratching at his forehead.

“Something I can help with?” Dean asked.

Bobby frowned, then looked up like he was surprised to see Dean. It seemed like he was always a little surprised to see Dean these days. “No, no. Garth is just a damn idjit. Not our kind of thing, though, so nothing he can’t handle. You done for the day?” He glanced at the clock.

“Finished her up an hour ago.” Dean wandered into the study, touching every book he got close to on his way to the alcohol cabinet. He poured himself a glass and settled into one of the chairs, tugging one of the fragile tomes close. It didn’t matter which one it was. Everything on the desk was about demons these days.

Bobby took the bottle of whiskey Dean had brought over with him and paced the room a couple times, obviously working himself up to saying something. Finally he said, “All right, listen up. I got something to say, and now your car’s done it needs saying before you go haring off in the middle of the night.” Bobby sucked in a breath, steadying himself. “Stop this.” He shook the whiskey bottle.

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Bobby held up a hand to stop him.

“Let me finish. I know I set a bad example. But you know Sam wouldn’t want this for you.”

“Sam doesn’t get a vote,” Dean said. Even as he said it, he felt a chill on the back of his neck and wondered. Maybe Sam did get a vote, if it turned out he was haunting Dean. And maybe Dean would keep drinking, just for a chance to piss his brother off.

“Fine, if you won’t do it for him, then do it for me. Dean, I already lost one of you boys. Don’t make me lose you both.” Bobby turned away, looking out the grimy window. “I don’t just mean the whiskey. Hell. I know you ain’t going to hear this—had this same damn conversation with your dad once and he couldn’t hear it either.” He sighed, muttered something under his breath. Louder, he said, “Revenge ain’t going to bring them back. So, before you get yourself killed, stop. Let it go. Find yourself a girl or a job or something. Hell, stay here and work for me if you want. Just stay outta the game until you ain’t fixing to join Sam on that pyre.”

Dean’s chest felt tight. There was a reason he hated chick flick moments, and this had definitely qualified. He wanted to turtle up, hide behind his cocky bravado and say something to piss Bobby off. If he were a little drunker he might. The thing that stopped him—the only thing—was that chance, that stupid, slim chance, that Sam was here, watching. The weight of that possibility cracked him open. “I hear you.”

Bobby scoffed, already hearing Dean’s denial before he even got the words out.

“I do. I hear what you’re saying. But, Bobby, I can’t walk away from this. What that demon did to my family—to me—I can’t let that go.” He chewed his lip and glanced away from the only family he had left. “After what John did to Sam, well. I can’t let that go either.”

Bobby cursed softly and moved to put the bottle back in the cabinet. After a pause long enough that Dean thought the conversation was over, Bobby said, “If you’re going to do this, then you’ll need help. Let me call Ellen.”

Dean pulled up to Harvelle's Roadhouse and looked it over dubiously. It was run down, didn't look like much in the daylight, but the best bars rarely did. Bobby said it was a hunter's bar, and Ellen ran it with her daughter. Under different circumstances, this could have become a favorite haunt for him. He could imagine it, him and Sam pulling in after dark, on their way to Bobby’s after a good hunt. Sam, laughing with Dean over some stupid story while they nursed a couple of beers. In his head, the atmosphere was his kind of cozy: loud enough that you couldn't hear individual conversations, crowded enough that everyone blended into the crowd. A place to find company if you wanted it, but could be left to your own devices just as easily.

When he walked through the door, it smelled exactly how he'd imagined it. Dust, beer, bar food, and sweat. It lingered, the smell of people, even when the bar was empty. This place must be packed once the sun went down.

No one was behind the bar when he walked in, but it didn't take long for a woman to come out from the back room. She was average height, maybe somewhere in her forties. Her long brown hair was worn loose, and she had a no-nonsense air about her that told Dean enough about how she managed to run a hunter's bar on her own. This had to be Ellen.

She looked him over. “You must be Dean. Bobby said you’d be by.”

Dean nodded, shifting his weight awkwardly. He wasn't used to asking for help. “Bobby told me you might know my— I'm John Winchester's son.” Mentioning John was iffy with other hunters. It seemed like the man had bad blood with nearly all of them, something Dean understood intimately now.

She stilled. “Yeah, I know John. How's he doing?”

Dean shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “Wouldn't know. Haven't seen him in a month at least.”

“I see. Well, next time you talk, tell him to return my damn calls.” She crossed her arms. “Are you hunting the demon too?”

Dean said, “Yeah. A demon with yellow eyes. Bobby said you could help.”

“Not me. Let me introduce you to Ash. How's your brother doing by the way? He still in school?” Dean stiffened, watched her notice. It only took her a moment to make an educated guess or two. “He's ok, right?” He could tell from her tone that she knew he wasn't.

It was all he could do to croak, “No.” He tried not to wince at how broken he sounded. “He died, about a month ago.” She was the first person he'd had to tell. He'd had a month to sit with it, to think the words Sam is dead; my brother is dead. But he hadn't had to say them yet. Hadn't honestly expected to meet anyone who knew Sam (or knew of him, anyway) but didn't know what had happened. He silently cursed Bobby for not warning her, for making him do this.

“I'm so sorry. I haven't talked to your dad in a long time, but he would always talk about how close you and your brother were.” She mercifully didn't ask for details. Maybe she'd ask Bobby later. Would serve him right.

He cleared his throat. “So, the demon. Who’s Ash?”

She shook herself, schooled her expression back to a professional mask. “Let me go find him.”

Ash was a genius. Dean told him everything he knew, even the part about Sam's psychic abilities. There didn't seem to be a point in hiding it. Not like hunters could kill him twice. Together they made a plan. Ash would start by finding any other kids like Sam from '83, and Dean would talk to as many of them as possible. With luck, one of them might have more information on the Yellow Eyed Demon's plans. And if not, then they were building a network. Meanwhile, Ash would look for any patterns that heralded the demon's arrival, and then he'd use that to predict where he'd show up next. The more information Dean could get, the better the prediction would be, or so Ash said.

Dean had no idea if the software could beat his dad's instincts, but he didn't have a lot of options. He nursed a beer while waiting for Ash to finish the first part of his search.

“You got somewhere to stay tonight?” Ellen asked, wiping at nonexistent spills on the bar.

Dean wasn’t sure where she was going with that considering they’d just met an hour ago. He hedged. “I'll head out as soon as Ash is done. Find a place on the road.”

She grunted in acknowledgement, didn't push the issue. “Does your dad know?”

It was so blunt and unexpected that it startled a laugh out of Dean. It sounded so harsh and angry in the quiet bar that Ellen actually flinched a little. Dean tried to pull back some of his composure and took a long pull of his beer before saying, “Yeah. He knows.” He didn't dare look at her when he said it.

She didn't say anything right away. He could imagine her chewing her lip, trying to navigate the minefield she'd just stepped into. He could tell she wanted to know more, had been close enough to John that she felt entitled to it. He wondered if she'd guess, if she'd be close enough he wouldn't have to correct her or lie. Instead, she went with, “What happened?”

Dean stewed on it a while. Drained his beer and didn't stop her putting another one in its place, took a long pull on that too. There were easy answers. 'The demon' or 'a semi.' The first sort of explained his current mission, the second sufficiently brutal to stop further questions. But talking about it at all hurt, and it made him want to hurt her in return for asking about it. “I don't remember much of it, but I'm told there was a semi. He—John—decided to 'let nature take its course.'” Dean scoffed. “And then he took Sam off life support without even telling me.”

When he looked back at her, her mouth was set in a hard line and tension radiated from her. He didn't know, or care much, if she was pissed at him or John. He could tell her the rest of it. Might, someday. But he liked her, and he didn't want to completely shatter her idea of the kind of man John was. Maybe she already knew, though, since the two weren't talking.

“You're not really hunting the demon, are you?”

He let his silence be his answer.

John was sure there would be something. Some low-level demon would know something, or let something slip while they gloated about Mary or Sam, or whatever else took their fancy that day. But they didn't. Demon after demon, day after day and week after week. Summer bled into fall, and the weather cooled and days shortened. He'd spent 22 years chasing dead ends, and one horrible year getting close enough that he could taste the revenge. He was not prepared to spend another 22 years like this, not after what the last year had cost. Especially now that he knew the plan. Something had to give, and it turned out that thing was his pride.

Opening his cell, he replayed his saved messages. One from Bobby, which he listened to almost out of habit. Another from Ellen, offering help. She'd called months before, and he didn't know if the offer would still be good given everything. He knew, vaguely, how word got around in the hunting community. Knew that both she and Bobby shared connections, and that the odds were good that she'd heard about how things had gone with Sam. He thought about her little girl—Josephine? Georgia? Joanna, that was it— still so young the last time he'd seen her. Younger than Sam, if he remembered right, though not by much. If Ellen had heard the news, then she'd be as likely to shoot him on sight as Bobby.

That said, he didn't have a lot of options. He'd burned a lot of bridges over the years, and there weren't many hunters willing to give him the time of day. Most of the ones he could have counted on had been killed this year just for knowing him. If there was a chance Ellen could help—and given her network, he figured she could—and there was a chance she would help, then he had to try. If she could reach out to him after what happened to Bill, then maybe she wouldn't turn him away now.

Without waiting to talk himself out of it, he dialed the number and heard it ring through.

“Harvelle's.”

She picked up. Of course she picked up, he thought. It was a landline. She had no idea who was calling her. “Ellen,” he said.

The silence dragged on a beat, two. He didn’t know if it'd been too long and she just didn’t recognize his voice or if she was choosing words to tear him a new one. “John?”

Relief flooded through him because she sounded surprised and confused, not angry. “Yeah. I got your message.”

“My message?” She started a word, stumbled, paused and tried again. “I left you a voicemail five months ago offering to help, and you don't even have the decency to call until now? Christ, Winchester.”

He grinned. She hadn't changed at all. “Sorry. I didn't want to get anyone else involved. I thought it would be safer for everyone.”

“So what changed?”

“It wasn't.” He shrugged, though she couldn’t see it. Either she knew about Jim and Caleb, about Sam, or she didn’t. “The demon doesn't care if you're involved or not. Just knowing me puts you at risk.” He sighed. “Seems to me there isn't much point keeping you at arm's length.”

“As it happens, Ash is already working on it.”

Worry and confusion flared in him, edging his voice harder, angrier. “Who's Ash?”

“Don't you pull that crap with me, John Winchester. Ash is the help you need. He's better at this than any of us, and he's willing to help. Dean's already got him working on tracking the demon, but I know you kept him in the dark. Anything you can give us will help.”

“Dean is— Damn it, Ellen.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don't want Dean involved in this.”

“Then you should have thought about that before you raised him to be a hunter,” she snapped. “He's doing this, with or without our help.” Then, quieter, like she didn't intend it to carry over the phone, “For someone so hell bent on revenge, you'd think you'd understand where he's coming from.”

John winced. He did understand; he just didn't like it. It wasn't the same for Dean as it had been for him and Sam. Mary was Dean's mother, but he'd only been four when she died. His fight with the demon was—not less personal, since Mary's death had changed everything for all of them—less intimate. Dean hadn't had the love of his life taken by the thing. Even so, Winchesters were stubborn by nature, and if Dean was hunting the demon there would be no stopping him. He wondered if he could talk Ellen into diverting Dean, throwing him red herrings, but he dismissed the thought. She didn't work that way. “I’ll think about it.”

She sounded exasperated. “Get your ass over here. And bring your research.”

Bobby’s words continued to ring through his head as Dean drove through the night to Oklahoma. Ash was sending him after some guy named Andy Gallagher, whose mother had died in a house fire back in ’83. A few weeks back, Guthrie had experienced a string of bizarre suicides, all people tied to Gallagher. Ash’s research hadn’t been able to pin the deaths on the guy, but Dean wouldn’t have bet against it. If this guy was the killer, and if he was psychic like Sam and Max, then Dean wasn’t loving the picture that painted. He was only supposed to be doing recon for Ash, gathering information on the demon and its plans based on the kids it had contacted, but this felt like he was walking into a trap.

The silence in the car felt loud, and the worn Zeppelin tape and hum of the tires on asphalt did little to dispel it. He thought back to the junkyard and the crunching gravel, the faulty EMF. That damn shoulder bump in the woods while Sam burned. Gripping the steering wheel tight enough that his hands ached, he steadied his voice and said, “Sam?” He waited, glancing around the interior only dimly lit by street lights. “You there?”

Still nothing. He sighed, annoyed with himself. What had he been expecting? Even if Sam were around, he’d have to be at Bobby’s, wouldn’t he? Spirits were tied to a place; they couldn’t go wherever they wanted. Immediately, his mind offered up half a dozen counterexamples just from the last year: Bloody Mary’s mirror and that hideous haunted painting, the Hookman, the haunted truck, and who knew how many others. Thinking Sam would be tied to Bobby’s house seemed naïve at best. But if he were here, wouldn’t he have done something by now? Showed Dean that he was around, and not in this half-assed maybe-maybe not spooky shit way.

Maybe not. He’d only been gone—Dean shut that thought down, redirected himself to easier thoughts. Most ghosts they encountered had been dead a long time. Decades, at least. Maybe it took time.

The thought of Sam being stuck as a ghost and unable to speak or interact with anyone for decades was too painful to consider. Never mind the thought of Sam being that close, like he was just outside the periphery of Dean’s vision, for that long and not being able to see him, not know how he was handling being dead or even know for certain that he was really, actually there. No. Sam was gone because Dean needed him to be gone. He needed him to be alive more than that, but that wasn’t exactly an option. Sam being a ghost was not a possibility he was going to entertain anymore.

Hours later, he pulled into a motel on the outskirts of Guthrie. Darkness still cloaked the parking lot, and the place was too cheap to have more than a few lights. The one nearest the Impala flickered and sputtered sadly, and he barely paid it a second glance as he entered the lobby.

“Checking in?” the tired clerk monotoned. He hardly looked at Dean, just started typing on the computer.

The lobby was particularly grimy, even for a cheap motel, and he mentally grimaced at the state the rooms were probably going to be in. Hopefully this trip wasn’t going to take more than a day. “Yeah, just a single.”

The clerk grunted his acknowledgement, then slid a key across the desk. “You’re in 13, down at the end.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t particularly superstitious, but 13 was an unusual number of rooms for a place like this just because so many other people were. 12 or 15 were more common in a place this small. Shrugging slightly, he thanked the clerk and headed out the door to the car.

As soon as he stepped outside, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and every instinct he had screamed that he was being watched. He froze, glancing around for an obvious threat. When he didn't find one, he slowly drew his gun and made his way to the car. His tension ramped higher. There was nothing there. He felt silly, but he'd also been doing this long enough to trust his instincts. Too many things hunted in the dark.

His breath ghosted in front of him as the temperature plummeted. That was his only warning before the whole parking lot went black, except that one flickering light. He strained his senses at the darkness and almost missed the figure now standing under the sputtering streetlight.

Sam.

Dean felt his breath stop, his pulse thundering in his ears. Sam. How? He took a hard look at his brother. Sam didn't look the same. Or rather, he did, but how he'd looked before the accident. How he'd looked when he slammed Dean into the wall in Salvation, vibrant and alive and angry. His hair still curled over his ears and at the back of his neck. His body was still packed with muscle, his skin unmarred. It was nothing like the last time Dean had seen him: head shaved, scars from the accident, from surgeries, his muscles wasting from being comatose for weeks.

It was a miracle. Sam was here. He was. He was here. Dean's throat felt tight as he took a step forward.

And then Sam stuttered, flicking out of existence and back in so fast Dean could have imagined it. He froze. No.

No.

#spnproshipbang #wincest #tw mcd #season 2 AU #fic i wrote #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #ghost!sam

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luna-nigthshade-wood · 1 year

Text

What they don´t know, will hurt them

Summary: Dean Winchesters attempts suicide on a dirty motel bathtub, ending brain dead on a hospital. A trickster promises John and Sam that he will save him for “free”, as long as they both get through watching a series of Dean´s memories, good and bad. The twist is that they will feel everything Dean did at the time and they can stop it at any time, but then Dean will die. They both accept thinking it cant be that bad. Spoiler: it is worse.

Chapter 32

Ever since this whole quest started, John cant help but keep wondering, why on Earth he had to involve his children into his mess once more? Was it really necessary? Did he really need them for his mission? Or it was just him being a selfish greedy bastard that couldn’t leave things be? Because if it wasn’t for him maybe Dean would have been able to make a life of himself at Sonny´s place, maybe not one with a white picket fence, his oldest had seen way too much for it to actually be real, but a happier life none the less, instead he drag him down with him, taking Sammy too for good messure, and then threw him away like a broken toy when he was done with him. Next memories are going to be hell to watch.

Sam is scared. He knows what the next memories are going to show and he doesn’t think he is capable of watching them. He doesn’t think he can stomach watching all the rude things he said to his brother while they had their little mission for revenge.

The screen lights up once more, this time showing Sam´s apartment at Stanford engulfed by darkness, there is a small noise outside that makes Sam stand up from his bed and going to investigate, only to be tackled by Dean, and if they were in any other situation, John would probably laugh at his sons tumbling like teenagers, but this isn’t any other situation, so John cant find amusing on it.

On the screen, Dean gets an introduction to Jess. Back then Sam was annoyed at his brother´s comments to Jess, but now after watching Dean´s memories for so long, he can detect the mask his brother is putting, the one that makes him seem reckless, he wonders if perhaps that wasn’t Dean last attempt to give him an out, to give both of themselves one.

The memory continues this time showing the two brothers arguing as they climb down the stairs

-When I told dad, I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45- Sam says, and back then it sounded like such a compelling argument to show why their family life was unstable, it seemed like such a big crime, now it pales in comparison of what Sam know his brother had to go through. Meanwhile, John hides his face into his hand as he hears one more thing he failed his sons

-I was nine years old- “Sam” continues- He was supposed to say “Don’t be afraid of the dark”.

-Of course you should be afraid of the dark- Dean says- You know what´s out there- and that phrase is said in such an earnest way, that both John and Sam realize that no one ever taught Dean that.

The fight continues as the Winchesters start to feel the anger and desperation that Dean is feeling. Back then, Sam didn’t notice, but now watching closely, he can see the flash of anger on Dean´s face when he mentions their mother, now more than a year later, Sam knows it was a low blow.

“Do you think that mom would have wanted that for us?” is a question that hits John like a freighting train. It is one he had asked himself multiple times. In his earlier years of hunting the answer would have been yes, now after knowing how the story ends, he is sure that Mary would have killed him, way before this.

-I cant do this alone- Dean says, and the desperation is back in full vengeance. Back then, Sam thought his brother was trying to guilt him into going with him, but now he realizes it was the way his brother was trying to reach out, and he feels like a dick for the way he ignored it

-Yes, you can- “Sam” says callously

-Yeah, well I don’t want to- Dean says, tone raw with honesty

The scene continues, with Sam finally giving in, when asked about why Dean wasn’t with his dad when he went missing, Dean lies and says he was on a hunt in New Orleans. John is sure that had he asked Caleb back then, he would have told them, that Dean was of course doing a hunt in New Orleans with him, and he guesses that is why he went with that lie.

Sam is floored by the way he hears himself talking to his brother, he knows pretty well, that Dean is capable of working his own hunts, without their father´s help, then why on earth did he have to be so condescending when Dean tells him he was working his own gig? Sam also comes to a startling realization, when he met Dean after all those years apart, Dean was wearing a mask but had some confidence on himself, a confidence that he started to rip down, with comments and critics until it was barely there. Sam helped destroyed Dean, and this time he cant blame his father for it

Dean explains the hunt to Sam, and John cant help but be impressed at how prepared Dean is, he sure as hell didn’t give him any info, perhaps hoping to delay his sons off his track, he ends up feeling sick for doubting his son. Sam finally agrees to go with Dean, under his own conditions (and the Sam watching wants to quick himself for always having to put his conditions, that college interview sounded so important back then)

At the screen, Sam gives one last kiss to Jess, and the Sam watching lets out a single tear, this is the last time that he will see Jess alive

The memories of the case continue as Sam and Dean keep trying to find clues as to where their father is. John cant help but notice how his sons seem to be in sync, even after all this time, and he cant ignore how better they are at what they are doing, hell, they found more clues to the case in one day that what he found in a week, of course he might have found more info if he hadn’t been busy chasing information at the bottom of his bottle.

The screen shows Dean and Sam in the bridge at the middle of the night, they seem to be focusing on the case, and then…

-You are really serious about the interview, aren’t you? You think you are just going to became some lawyer?- Dean says tone full of sarcasm- Marry your girl? Does Jessica knows the truth about you?- Dean asks as repressed anger hits his family. Back then, Sam thought his brother was angry at him, but now he realizes that Dean was angry on behalf of Jessica, and he had a right to be, because Sam planned his marriage to the girl, based on lies, and that is not how Dean raised him

-You are one of us- Dean says in an ominous tone

-No- “Sam” says- I am not like you. This is not going to be my life- and the Sam watching wants to rage at his younger self if only he knew…

-To Dad? And his crusade?- And damn if that phrase doesn’t hurt John deeply, he really managed to screw both of his sons- If it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what Mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we found the think that killed her, mom is gone and she is never coming back

Anger like nothing they have ever felt fills Dean as he pushes Sam against the bridge support, but there is also a lot of hurt and grief mixed with that anger, and Sam wants nothing more than the floor to swallow him, as he watches himself hurl those careless words, at the moment he felt victorious at having hurt Dean with his words, now the only thing he feels is shame; Sam takes a quick look to his dad, the exact moment that John looks at him with a glare, John wants to say something to his wayward son, but he stays quiet, it wont do to speak in anger, heaven knows that is how most of his troubles start

Dean releases Sam, only to see Constance´s ghost fall off the bridge, and then Baby starts chasing them down the bridge. John feels his heart leap through his throat and he turns to Sam, eyes wild with a scared tone

-Sam?- he asks- Please tell me your brother did not just jump off a bridge known for his suicide rate, that the ghost you are chasing used to killed herself.

-I cant tell you that, dad- Sam responds, only now understanding the gravity of the situation, he thought it was funny to see Dean covered by black waters, he never once thought that an inch to the left and he might have lost his brother

-Jesus- John responds- And he wasn’t hurt?

-Of course no…-Sam starts to answers but then cuts himself off. When they arrived back at the motel, Dean seemed to be walking more stiffly and he was sure he saw a few bandages peaked out of his brother´s clothing

-He was hurt but didn’t tell you, right?- John guesses and seeing Sam´s tiny nod all but confirms it. John puts his head in his hands, he never thought anything about the hunt he sent his boys, he never even asked about it afterwards, hell, he was uncommunicated at the time. Dean could have died, and he probably wouldn’t have answered the phone, he hadn’t answered the phone when Dean was dying.

On the screen Dean and Sam enter their father´s room and John feels ashamed at the state of his room and about the fact that he left the job without finishing it; a man died because of his inactions. He could have helped; he just couldn’t bother to give a damn.

At the screen the police arrest Dean and both Winchesters wince as Dean is slammed unto the police car, if there was any doubt that Dean´s ribs were injured, there wasn’t now, it certainly hurt as if they were broken. Dean continues antagonizing the cops until Sam creates a distraction long enough for Dean to escape with John´s journal. Dean calls Sam from a phone booth informing him of his dad´s whereabouts.

Worry fills the air as the call cuts, as Dean springs into action finding Sam at record time, Dean is one hell of a hunter, is the thought running in his family´s minds. Dean is not a second too late, because when he finds Sam, he is being attacked by Constance in the Impala, and Dean doesn’t hesitate even a second before shooting through the windows. Later, Dean would bitch about his Baby´s windows, but between his brother and his car, is clear who he prioritizes, if only his family had felt the same.

Soon enough the case is solved, as Constance reunites with her children. And John honestly thought they would feel some sympathy coming from Dean, but there is only indifference (John doesn’t seem to realize that Dean might have felt sympathy for the ghost if only she hadn’t killed her kids)

The brothers return to Stanford, Dean´s hurt piercing in the room as Sam tells him, he is not going with him.

-Maybe I can meet with you later?- “Sam” says, and both brothers know is a lie

-Yeah, alright- says a dejected Dean as Sam turns to enter his apartment

-We made one hell of a team- Dean says before driving away.

Dean continues to drive, only arriving at the end of the street before stopping the car. There is a feeling of wrongness and uneasiness in the air, it is prickling at Dean´s (and the Winchester´s) neck. Something is wrong and before he knows it Dean is turning the car around and running through the door, managing to get Sammy out before the fire engulfs him-

And just like that, Sam falls to his knees, breaking down in tears, He knew it would be hard watching this, but Jess´ death still pierces something inside him. She was his first serious love, he could see himself having a life with her. He cries bitter tears, some of them are for Jess, but some are also for Dean, his brother who had saved him more times that he cared to admit or acknowledge, his brother who had been stomping out fires his whole life, he also cries for him, and it is too much, but hell if he is going to fail his brother, again. Sam feels his father´s strong arms engulfing him into a hug, and he cant help but cry harder, because at the end his father is a poor substitute off the arms he wishes were comforting him. John sees his son break down in the seat next to him. He engulfs him into his arms in a hug, letting a few tears fall down as well. He wants to say something to his son, but he cant find the words. Any words would pale, anyways, on comparison with the ones he is sure his son wished to hear. So he holds his son, in a movement that feels foreigner, but that shouldn’t be. It is high time he starts acting like a father. It is definitely too little and pretty much too late, but he will provide what little comfort he could, before they continue their journey through Dean´s memories.

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#supernatural #spn au #supernatural au #spn fic #supernatural fic #suicidal dean #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #jessica moore #bad parent john winchester

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