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ilovefanfic86 · 3 years

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Supernatural S15E20 “Carry On” Series Finale

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

Warning!!! I am going to be very emotional in this post. I kinda still am. There will also be plenty side noes.

I knew they would play that version. (Grabs tissues)

They were babies.

Bobby will always be the dad the boys desrved.

Sam was so damn buff in “Lazurus Rising”.

I like how we get to the old characters/actors.

It feels like they wanted to make us cry before the actual episode.

Here we go...

*Deep breaths*

Lol!! “Ordinary Life”

Dean kept Miracle!

THANK YOU JARED!!!

I’m Sam making the bed.

I loved this montage of Sam and Dean living a free life.

The title card for the last time.

Pie Fest!!

Finally Someone brought up Castiel.

*Side Note*

What Dean said makes sense. Them honoring Cas’s sacrifice by being happy and free is what the should do, but fuck that.

What is this purge shit?!

They are SINGER AND KRIPKE!

Haven’t seen John’s journal in forever. Its beautiful to see that they still have to use it.

Evil mimes = Vamp mimes Thank you Dean.

Well its clear that Jack brought back everyone. Good cause I was worried about Garth.

I don’t trust this plan.

Dean and his ninja stars are too funny.

Yea, clearly a trap.

*Side Note 2*

I am feeling a little let down with the “MOTW” storyline. It’s not what I was expecting. Hopefully this goes somewhere.

Damn! Sam got his ass scooped up.

Wait... What? Jenny? I barely remember her.

Oh... Well bye Jenny.

DAMN IT DEAN!!!!!!!!!!!

I FUCKING HATE THIS SHOW!!!!!

Dean telling Sam that he is proud of him.

STOP!!

I am truly speechless right now. Dean is really dead.

Poor Sam. He had a hunter’s funeral with just the dog.

My heart is really broken right now.

Thank you Donna.

*Side Note 3*

I noticed that the call is from Texas. Like “Walker: Texas Ranger” Lol!!

I am having anxiety watching Sam leaving the bunker.

The Table...

*Side Note 3*

How did Dean fight the universe’s ultimate badasses and was taken out by a FUCKING NAIL!!?!?!?!?!

Dean and Cas deserved better.

Dean is in heaven.

BOBBY!!!

Wait... What did Jack do?

So, no more reliving life’s greatest hits?

Rufus is with Aretha Franklin and John and Mary live up the road.

Harvelle’s Roadhouse.

CAS HELPED JACK MAKE HEAVEN FOR DEAN!! SO CAS IS IN HEAVEN?!?!?!?

Except... WHERE THE FUCK IS CAS?!?!?!?

There’s Baby! With the original license plate.

Sam had a baby and named him Dean!

I can’t see the woman on the porch? Is that Eileen?

Little Dean has the possession tatt.

OH GOD SAM IS ABOUT TO DIE!

An acoustic version of “Carry On...” Who said that this was okay?!!!!

Is he going to meet Dean on the bridge?!!

“Heya Sammy.”

After watching the episode a few more times and reading the lastest gossip about the finale. I do have some opinions on the matter. Some of you may agree and some may not. These are my opinions and thoughts.

Given all that has happened this year I am grateful that they filmed anything. They risked their health and the health of their familes, to get us the finale. I appreciate that. However, there is clearly somethings that were amiss.

First, Dean. (a.)At first I was just completely hurt about his death. I was so mad that he was killed by rebar because of a lame ass vampire. I get the angle that they were going for with it. Now that Chuck isn’t writing their lives anymore, they don’t have plot armour anymore. Basic shit can hurt them now. Just like when the didn’t have any “luck”, regular people shit happened to them. So, if you fight in a barn around random ass rebar sticking out, you’re bound to get hurt.

(b.)Social Media. I get on Twitter and Supernatural is trending. But, not because of high praise. No. It was because a lot of the fandom felt cheated by the finale. Which is how i felt at the time.Then that Jensen did not like the ending. That he thought that the ending was going to be different than what we got. Granted that they couldn’t go full out because of the virus. If I am correct, Jensen said that they would go out “Butch and the Sundance Kid” style. Plus they edited so much of the episode “Despair” that him and Misha felt that the charaters were cheated. Also Jo (Alona Tol) and Ellen (Samatha Ferris) Harvelle were not asked back. Which I thought was strange.

(c.) What happened to all of Dean’s earthly possessions?

Seceond, Sam. (a.)Sam’s life. I am glad that Sam got to live a long life and have the family that he always wanted. I know that because of the pandemic we couldn’t shoot everyone together. That being said, Did Sam marry Eileen? We don’t see or hear from her. The only glimpse of his wife is on the porch and its so far away we can’t tell who it is. Also in Sam’s montage, we see a lot of pictures inside his house. But not one of his wife. It just seems rushed is all.

(b.)Sam’s aging. I am not okay with the wig that they had Jared wear. It looked like a Party City wig. Again, rushed production. But, I do forgive them for a shirtless Sam/Jared. THANK YOU!

(c.)Sam’s heaven. This may go into the plotholes area. When Sam goes to heaven will he see Jess again? Jess was the love of his life and he said that he still thinks about her.

Third, Castiel. (a.) Misha Collins did a amazing job as Castiel. His performance in “Despair” really broke me. That being said, Cas deserved better than the show gave him. A few mentions in the last episode. But no one is really talking about the fact that Cas confessed his love for Dean and it was completely ignored. We just know that Jack got Cas out the Empty and they both made a new heaven for Dean. Does Cas and Dean ever see eah other?

(b.)Destiel/CasDean. DESTIEL BECAME CANON! This was a huge thing for the SPN fandom. People who have never watched the show were interested by this. This made 2020 a little more enjoyable. Now, I know that there are some that are against Destiel. That is your right and opinion. However, it is now plain to see that Cas has always had the feelings toward Dean. And they are not on a platonic level. There has been years of evidence to this. Sam and Cas’s relationship is not the same as his and Dean’s. Naomi programmed Cas to kil Dean but couldn’t once the time came. From angel to demon, Devil and God has all said at one point or another that Castiel was in love wth Dean.. Whenever Cas died on the show, Dean spirals out of control. He always tries to find something else to get his mind off the fact that Cas is gone. Does Dean feel the same for Cas? I’m not sure, but I lean more to that he does. I have always believed that Dean was Bisexual. He’s been seen checking out men on the show. I just wsh that they would at least acknowledged it.

Fourth, Plotholes.(a) There are so many plotholes after the finale that I need answers to. I have too many to put on here. I will put those in a different post.

For what the finale was, I liked it. It did fall a little flat, but if I just focus on the fact that they both got the ending they deserved.

2 brothers, hunters, Archangels vessels, Men of Letters, Legacies, Knight of Hell, Boy!King, ‘Messengers of God’s Destruction’, Dads, Heros. Thank you.

Sam and Dean Winchester... There is peace, now you’re done.

(not my gifs)

#supernatural #Sam Winchester #Jared Padalecki #dean winchester #Jensen Ackles #castiel #Misha Collins #jake kline #alexander calvert #bobby singer #jim beaver #spn spoilers #SPN #spn final season #spn finale #spn s15e20 #SPN Spoiler #Carry On My Wayward Son

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 4 years

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HC: Backgrounds&Bullets

- Ellen & Bill: A Love Story

Ellen was almost five years older than Bill. They met when she was turning 23 and he was just 18 and working as a barman behind the bar at the Roadhouse his parents owned. Ellen had thought he was older cause his stubble and wise cracking jokes made him seem older. She didn’t actually realize he was that much younger until he’d already proposed after seven months of their dating and they went to sort out the paperwork. Ellen had freaked out at that point and tried to call the whole thing off claiming that he was “too young to know what he wanted” - but Bill wouldn’t hear a word of it, and continued to pursue her with flowers, and chocolates, and unexpected visits to her house to play very poor versions of her favorite Beatles songs outside her door every other night.

They got married right after Bill’s 19th birthday and hadn’t meant to have a family for a while. However by the time they started trying - they realized they were having troubles as it was. They had three miscarriages (all boys) before they gave up. Jo happened two years later and was a complete surprise - Ellen said she was a blessing, and Bill had cried for three days straight that “God is finally good to us”. It’s why Jo was called Joanna - as God was gracious to them, giving her to them - and Ellen named her middle name after her mother.

Ellen was an only child (and her parents passed away shortly after she met Bill), just like Jo; but Bill was one of three kids and his family was fully part of the Hunting World. His eldest brother (Benjamin/Ben - deceased during RP canon time at +56) and brother’s wife (passed away shortly before husband before Jo got to the bar) were the one’s who’s bar in Duluth Jo ran away to work at and now has inherited, while his younger brother (Jason/Jase) was bit and turned before killing himself (at 22) after a werewolf hunt when Jo was 5. Jo remembered Jase as always being extremely friendly and sweet, and would bring her different rocks as a ‘collection’ from all across the country whenever he visited when she was little. Jo’s paternal grandparents died shortly after Jase and she remembers Ellen tucking her into bed after they heard, telling her that they died from “a broken heart” over it all.

- Bill: The Hunter, The Myth, The Dad

Bill inherited the Roadhouse for certain after that, and Ellen tried to make the flat in the back upstairs as nice and homey as possible. Bill disagreed with keeping Jo out of the business entirely, and from the time Jo started learning to read before school, she was learning about ghosts and demons and things that went bump in the night. Ellen would always read her happy Disney-fied fairytales before that, but when Jo started school and started asking why terrible things happened unlike in those stories - Bill took over bedtimes and would read from the Grimm Brothers, Hans Christien Andersen and various mythology books. Jo loved anything to do with cunning foxes, wily coyotes or someone outsmarting the other, which slowly transformed into a fascination with gods and goddess’ and just “how do they actually work” at 8yrs old which turned into her first lesson on how religions transform into monsters.

Bill tried his best to be home every other weekend when Jo was growing up, and he and Ellen basically lived like a divorced couple that still loved one another - with him being on the road for upwards of a week at a time, before getting home just in time for Friday nights to spend quality time with both of his girls. It put a strain on their relationship for sure, but he couldn’t deny his need to help others, and Ellen knew that without being on the road he’d feel useless, emasculated and weak. They had screaming fights on the regular towards the later end of their relationship though - as Bill was away longer and longer times, and with people like John that Ellen worries wouldn’t look after him/watch his back and make sure that he got home to the family. Jo would creep to the stairs at night when the bar had closed and she could hear their voices screaming at one another, and would watch from the top to see just how long before Bill would wrap a screaming and crying Ellen up in his arms and try to soothe the hurt from his last time away. Jo would also regularly hide her favorite toy in Bill’s hunting pack just so he had to turn around and bring it back an hour down the road after one of those fights in the hopes Ellen would be happier to see him back so soon.

As much as he struggled in his personal life, Bill made a name for himself as a great hunter - specifically an amazing demon hunter. If there was a demon problem somewhere, most hunters who knew of the Roadhouse and of the Duluth Bar called immediately for Bill Harvelle to come and help or provide information towards whatever demon it was. He was known to be able to exorcism a demon fully in under an hour in a pinch, and a strong success rate of leaving the person alive and at least physically well when given the time to deal with the black eyed bitches. Bill knew more exorcisms than most men knew song lyrics, he knew more Devil’s Traps than any hunter he knew, and he knew how to pour salt down a burning throat without letting the tight feeling in his stomach show on his face. He was the one to teach John Winchester how to follow weather signals and how to follow electrical storms to track down a demon, he also would have been the first of the current generation (at the time) of hunters to get an anti-possession tattoo due to just how frequently he was around demons - but did not pass this information on before he died.

- Jo: The childhood years

Her first steps were taken in the carpark in front of the Bar, and had been when Rufus refused to bend down and pick her up - grubby hands covered in mud grabbing up at him before the hunter had continued his joking conversation with Bobby; she had slapped her hands in the mud again before rocking herself up to her feet without support for the first time before lurching the two feet forward towards the hunter’s legs, mud covering his own dusty jeans while Jo had laughed up into his surprised face as Bobby had made some joke about Rufus “always being the ladies man”. Her first teeth had fallen out when she’d tripped down the stairs and hit her mouth on the bottom step, a tiny scar used to be visible on the corner of her lip from it as a reminded to look before she leaped.

Jo’s favorite person was always Bill - who read her her bedtime stories, who kissed her forehead goodnight and goodbye every night and every day he left for a hunt, who held her in his arms and let her poke the pool balls around with a cue stick, who was the one to brush her hair and tie it in pigtails or plaits and would beat out some drum beat against her knees with his fingers whenever her favorite song (Jolene) came on the jukebox from the quarters she’d beg from any of her Uncles that were around and she’d sit up on the bar top to listen to it quietly. He was the one to buy her and teach her how to use a bow and arrow.

She loved her mom though, and Ellen had a way of making her forget that her daddy was away every time he left. Ellen would make up new games like ‘Count All The Hats’ or ‘How many pages can you collect’ which would have Jo bouncing about the bar after work sweet talking blank or filled in pages from the various hunters around the place from their journals to then have paper airplane competitions. Ellen would put on a range of songs that both girls liked more than any other person in the bar, and would entertain Jo with pages upon pages of squiggled lines for her to color until her heart was content. Ellen would make pancakes not quite how Bill made them every Saturday when he was running late, just so Jo could complain to her daddy about missing his breakfasts when he did get home. Ellen would put bandaids on all of her hurts, and even took Jo to ballet lessons for two years just to give her something to do to keep her mind off of Bill being gone - a bar was sat along the length of the bar at Jo’s perfect height so she could practice in her faded jeans and grubby flannel shirts during the day while the place was empty, and it stayed there until the place burned down. Ellen tried her very best, and Jo loved her mom so much for everything she did until it stopped.

Jo loved all of her Uncles. Uncle John was the best whenever he visited but Jo could always tell she made him sad for some reason, but he’d let her push his cheeks until he would laugh - he always had something special for her, a little trinket or a special candy she couldn’t get at home from somewhere all over the country; and she remembered the day he’d smelled like the brown drinks all the other adults drank and wouldn’t let her touch and patted her head sadly and said he liked the Roadhouse the best out of all the places in the world. Uncle Bobby didn’t visit often but always let her sit on his lap and read out of his Journal when he was around. Uncle Rufus was so funny - her mom didn’t think so but Jo found his dry humor far more amusing that a kid her age should have. Then there was Uncle Shawn who was a great hunter and shared secret looks with her dad and helped to either distract her mom so her dad could take her out back for more bow practice or would take her on longer and longer jogs while Bill distracted her mom in turn. He took her dreams seriously, the same as her dad did.

- Jo: Ten going on...

Her last birthday with her dad was her tenth birthday and Jo had been so happy and excited about turning ten - she was double digits finally and everyone said she was such a grown up lady. Her mom and dad had bought her a charm bracelet and every hunter that showed up that week had known about it and brought with it a charm from somewhere they’d been hunting - Uncle John’s was a tomahawk from near the Grand Canyon after some wendigo, Uncle Bobby’s was a pentagram from Salem where he had actually hunted witches!!!!, Uncle Rufus simply sent her a post card from Philadelphia with a Liberty Bell charm stuck down against it, and Pastor Uncle Jim had come to visit with an entire array of protective charms as well as a Virgin Mary and the cross. Other hunters added to it and in the few months before Bill died, her whole bracelet was almost filled up - and it was one of the only things she took with her when she finally left the Roadhouse.

After the 16th of May though when Uncle John came back with her dad’s leather jacket and the same red rings around his eyes and became just John for her; Jo stopped caring about school too much. The next year a blur and she couldn’t recall a single thing that had happened or that she had learnt other than that her mom was still there and she was still there, and that she wasn’t really a little kid any more. It wasn’t until the following year as she got her period for the first time right before her twelfth birthday and took that as the sign that she wasn’t the little girl Joanna Beth Harvelle any more and that she was just Jo, that she came out of the clouds and settled on a plan - work hard at training, learn as much as she could, and get out there to keep up the good work. She got training from Uncle Shawn -though she had dropped the Uncle by then to anyone inside the community. No one was really an Uncle any more really, they were her future partners and coworkers, they were her mentors and her teachers, but she didn’t call them Uncles any further to their faces.

She started getting into trouble at school at twelve - with fist fights, detentions and suspensions every other week, and constant trips to the school counselor to talk about “how her dad’s passing had affected her”. Jo learned how to fake cry in those sessions, but also how to not let her real tears out until the moon was high and she was alone in her room. Her school essays were barely a sentence long, her math scores were abysmal despite her being able to calculate a tip percentage in a few seconds or ring up customers orders and change before she’d even entered it in the till, her only decent classes were when she started workshop and automotive classes the next year. All she cared about was her father’s journal she stole from where her mom had hidden it in their room, and about training.

She learned hand to hand combat and sparring with Shawn every time he came by, and within a few months Jo knew how to use his body weight against him and thrown him off balance in a matter of moments. She began running to town, running to school and running back home the longest way - over three miles a day, more likely hitting the four or five mark if she got lost in her thoughts - and running out the back door of the bar any time her mom got on her case about stupid grades or the stupid boys she punched or the stupid journal that she kept trying to take off of Jo. Jo built up her skill with her bow too, and even though it was still a little small for her now, she could hit the bulls eye right on each time - now she’d moved onto adding throwing knives into her training alongside practicing with her bow.

- Jo: Teenage Runaway

She was just shy of thirteen the first time she saw him - a wicked smile and a lazy run of his eye over her, sizing her up - and Jo had felt a weird flutter in her stomach before she shifted her weight into a more defensive and strong stance, daring him down. It didn’t matter he was definitely on the other side of twenty to her - he made her feel much older than she was as he’d lean up next to her on the bar and tell her about things no one else would. He wouldn’t sugar coat anything, and he was the first man who’s bare chest she had touched since she realized how much she wanted to - he’d been showing off some wound from a vampire hunt and she’d not even stopped herself from reaching out. He told her about what went bump in the night, he told her about what different demons did and Jo had felt a burning hot flush when he explained one very specific type demon right before her thirteenth birthday.

Gordon promised her so many things and he taught her so many things. He promised her and showed her what a grimoire looked like, he told her all the demon types he knew, he promised to take her away from the Roadhouse one day when she could get out from under her mother’s demands just after her fifteenth birthday. He would compliment her knife skills, and would run his hands along her arms and back to fix her stance. He taught her how to drive stick and told her how good she looked behind the wheel of a real car like his. He drove her out to a field down the road on the night her school was having homecoming and actually let her whine about the shitty bitches at school for half an hour before he told her she was far too grown up for that stuff and stroked her cheek. Jo had been so flushed when he dropped her off just outside the carpark that night and had thought he really thought of her as an adult then. She was done with school shit the moment she’d kissed him back, but nothing went much further than that - that was just a distraction from her goals and Gordon knew all about having goals. It’s what made him so cool.

A month before Jo’s sixteenth birthday, Ash Miles arrived at the Roadhouse, blown in like a bad smell or something dragged in on someone’s foot and left behind without a care in the world. Jo had been the first one to notice him as he looked far too young to be a hunter, didn’t look like anyone in the town (what with his button up shirt and his mustard yellow knit vest, and his formal dress pants and gelled down military cut hair) and Jo thought he looked like he could use some cheering up. He’d been crying. She could always tell when someone had been crying. They played cards in the back corner for hours as hunters came and left, and Ellen was the next one to spot him before she realized he was a lost boy. From there, they offered him a spare bed for the night and he never left again.

Jo hadn’t had brothers. Before then the only kids she’d really met in the Hunting World were the Campbell Cousins - Gwen, Mark (who she shared her first technical kiss with under the oak tree out the back when she was 8 and he was 10) and Johnny, plus their much older brother Christian. She had heard several times and seen a photo of John’s boys from him and Bobby, but she had not ever had the chance to meet them. Otherwise, she only ever spent time with adults. And Ash being about 6 years older didn’t much function into her care. Yet Ash never got the moniker of Uncle (the same as Gordon didn’t) but Jo knew he was her family within three days when he snuck her out the back yard to go shooting beer cans for the first time ever, and Jo helped him cut the sleeves off of his shirt with an old steak knife. She liked having a brother for sure.

It was completely unreasonable the way Ellen reacted when she found out about the hunt with Gordon though. They were partners, and Ellen thought she knew the other hunter better than Jo did! That was complete bullshit, and the suggestion he had used her as bait had rung in Jo’s ears for hours after she’d been dragged home after the rawhead’s breath had brushed against her face and Jo had struggled to force it away from herself before Ellen appeared and pulled her back. Jo couldn’t believe the completely mortifying way Ellen had screamed at Gordon that night back at the Roadhouse, while Jo still smelt of rotting flesh and Gordon had rolled his eyes at the mere suggestion she was bait. Jo knew it was more than that, but trust her mother not to see it that way. It just made Jo more determined though - and frequently managed to squirrel herself away or sweet talk her way into some hunter or other’s car, headed towards whatever next big bad thing there was out there before Ellen would call and scream and threaten until the hunter turned around and left her in the dusty gravel turn off without another thought.

Regardless, despite Gordon’s excommunication from the Roadhouse after that, Jo found it easy enough to keep in touch through email and phone calls, and working with Ash instead gave her another outlet for her anger, frustration and annoyance at being stuck in the podunk town when she should be out hunting. Ash taught her how to hold the smoke in her lungs long enough before blowing it out, and he even taught her how to blow smoke rings as they’d lie about on his bed with a packet of weed to share between them and some Led Zeppelin track on in the background. He’d even been the one to help her deal, even just a little bit, with her father’s death for the first time - he was the first person she’d cried to since John came back. He was her best friend, and he kept her secrets - including the number of ‘sleepovers’ at some girl in her classes house she would have that were really her running down the road and climbing into the passenger seat of Gordon’s truck to drive about and share any information Jo had heard, and him to teach her a little bit more about hunting. Ash might have been the first one to take Jo shooting, but Gordon was the one who got her eye lined up just right.

- Jo: College Sorority Girl, Or Not

At 18 Jo finished school with a pretty average GED for someone who really did not care to pass anything. She went to the local-ish college three towns over, and with the money she hustled playing pool and Duck hunter and wiping the floor with hunters at poker, she managed to buy a car and pay for a dorm room out from under Ellen’s watchful gaze finally. It had been a dream come true when she boxed all of her things, including her knife collection and her dad’s journal secretly hidden away yet again from Ellen, up and left the Roadhouse. However it quickly turned into a nightmare at how dull and boring her roommate was and how often the tall, willowy black haired girl would freak out uncovering something of Jo’s. It had taken barely a month for the pair to put a masking tape line down the middle of their room, seperating Jo’s spartan except for her books side from the roommate’s side covered in throw pillows and knick knacks.

Jo had majored in History and had taken every single elective course there was on mythology and folk lore and religion. She had been an actually decent student for the two years she did at college - averaging A-’s for most of her classes and getting extremely good grades in her classes about the gods and goddesses of forgotten and past cultures. That was up until she went to the teacher’s hour for those classes and the lecturer - a not wholly unattractive, middle aged and unhappily married man from what she could tell of his hilarious anecdotes connecting the Greek tragedies to his real life - had ran a hand up her thigh and she threw a right hook into his jaw followed by a knee to the groin. She was packed up and back on the road to the Roadhouse that very night without a single regret and not finishing out her last year.

She met Rick that Christmas, and while he didn’t make her stomach flutter like she remembered from her teenage crush, he was exceptionally cute and he didn’t listen to Ellen at all. Or at least, he didn’t when it came to the nonverbal glares to back off. They fooled around a bit - Jo dragging him out the back of the Roadhouse to kiss against the dry, splintering wood almost every time he came past, and he even got so far as to slide a hand in her underwear before the noise of a car backfiring had scared him back down that it had been Ellen with her shotgun. After that, they dated and kissed, and sometimes he would take her out to a movie if he was in town for more than a day or two; but overall it was just something to pass the time until he didn’t come back. That was the moment the reality of what being with a hunter meant settled in for Jo, and that was not the life she wanted for herself.

It was another long year of wiping down tables, flirting with guys that nothing would ever happen with, smoking pot and giggling with Ash, and trying to ignore the never ending stack of case files behind the bar that she compiled herself more than any one else before the Winchester’s blew in and Jo finally decided it was time to be the woman she wanted to see in the mirror, not the little girl who stayed behind.

#cc #headcanons for my jo #background for jo ellen bill and others #not really fic but also not not fic?

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stusbunker · 5 years

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Known: Case of the Weak, Part C

A Supernatural DARK Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean x Demon!Reader, Dean x Female Vessel OC, Sam, Alan OMC, Crowley, Abaddon

Summary: The Winchesters do what they do, Chloe is still a bit occupied, our reader waits for the bus and Abaddon meets her match. Not anything worth warning you about, unless you haven’t watched season 9. And if you haven’t what are you doing here?! xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Still in Rock Springs, WY

April 12, 2014

“Exorcizamus te-,” Sam’s voice rang out behind you, Dean’s face smugly twisting with vindication.

“Omnis immundus spiritus,” you continued, whispering in disbelief beneath your breath. That made Sam stutter briefly as your eyes went black against the chant. You reached out to stroke Dean’s face, but he ducked out of your reach, swatting your new vessel’s hairy arm away.

“omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii,” Sam spoke louder as he stepped closer.

“Figures.” You sighed dramatically before squaring your feet, preparing for another vacancy. “Good luck and take care of our girl,” you said directly to Dean’s stunned face, ignoring Sam’s looming sneer. You jumped from Alan’s body and out through the bathroom window out to the limitless night sky.

*^*

“What the hell was that about?!” Dean shuttered against the uncomfortableness, catching the guy in front of him before he hit his head on small table. Alan’s eyes blazed open, panic and confusion escaping in gulps and off-putting moans. “Hey, man it’s going to be okay. We gotcha, just breathe.” Though still visibly annoyed Dean’s tone seemed to soothe the recently unpossessed man to functionally acceptable levels.

“What the hell, who was she?!” Alan glared at Dean like he had kicked a puppy.

“That was a demon,” Sam sat on the table top and began to give the spiel.

“Why was she was obsessed with you?! Her mind was filled with you doing all sorts of awful things, man.” Alan started to get scared again as he tried to reason with the memories of his possessor and the reality in front of him.

Dean cocked his head and met the accusations with a rueful squint. “Forget about that bitch, demons mess with your mind. Make you see things and worse. I think it’s time you go home, maybe get drunk and sleep this whole night off, like a nightmare, mhmm?”

Alan left on shaky feet, the world wider and darker than he had ever imagined. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean carefully moved CC back to their room, playing drunk themselves as to why they were carrying an unconscious woman into their hotel room. After securing the doors and windows, they were able to think about their next steps.

“Where’d you think it went?” Sam was watching Dean carefully, unsure of how much it was run-of-the-mill demonic manipulation and how much of the bravado was sincere.

“How the hell should I know? Did you see that, man, it tried to put the moves on me,” Dean scrunched his face before stepping back to let Sam check on CC himself.

“Yeah, pretty clingy, for a demon,” Sam acknowledged offhandedly as he checked CC’s eyes, not sure what he was looking for beyond reaction to light, which he hoped was normal. She was breathing and her heartbeat was steady. “Think Cas can swing a visit or are we really going to send you back in?”

Dean stared at Sam like he had something on his face. “What?”

“Yeah, that came out wrong.”

^*^

The road was endless and smooth, the slight breeze swaying the massive vehicle enough to keep up the illusion. The trucker played a slightly staticky station, humming along at random. She knew he would have had a GPS or the CB going if he was real, but he was just another ferryman. If everything was so obvious, why couldn’t she work out what decision she had to make? Chloe huffed, shifting against the seat belt as the heat waves rose before them in wilted warning.

“You know you ought to have just stayed home, don’t ya?”

She closed her eyes against the accusation, however gentle. “Nothing back there has to do with what’s happening to me now.”

“Well, there’s nothing out here for you that’s gonna help until you know the question.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you could just tell me and save the return trip?” CC didn’t want to be rude, it was a free ride and he had been nothing but kind. Even if he kept changing faces, Bobby, Rufus, Roger, Reynolds, Ellen, and now it was Pastor Jim. It was the faces that didn’t turn up that made her uneasy, her mother, the other elders, John even. The one face she had never seen that she longed for above all others.

“Can’t tell you something you already know.”

“If I wanted to answer a riddle, I would have found a bridge,” CC grumbled, rolling the heavy crank in the door, needing to stick her head in a wind tunnel for the sheer mindless pleasure for a few minutes. She let her eyes tear and her hair trail behind her to inevitable knots. The sun was warm, and the air dried the trails of saline as fast as they formed. The hiss of brakes and the sudden pull of gravity broke through her revelry. She fell suddenly against her chest strap. Confused, she looked back to see the driver’s side door hanging open. An ear-piercing screech followed by a jarring thud forced her to see what her guide was up to. The entire trailer had been unhinged, whatever load left precariously angled against the blacktop.

“What’d you do that for?!”

Geoff’s mischievous smile greeted her, his eyebrows waggling conspiratorially. He swung back into the seat and started the engine, spinning the unweighted cab deftly on its remaining ten wheels. “Better?”

“We’ll see.” Chloe held onto the handle above her head, a hopeful glimmer spread through her.

^*^

Dean didn’t know what he had expected, but the potion still tasted like the wrong end of a junkyard dog. He sucked it back as Sam watched with a look of sheer disgust on his dumb face. Dean inhaled the musty motel room air and coughed, the taste burned, spreading through his chest. He didn’t know why exactly, but he dropped down beside CC’s body, and threaded his hand through her cool fingers. Before he could finish listening to Sam’s instructions, Dean drifted away.

He awoke in the passenger seat of the Impala, parked at an awkward angle in a forgotten, yet familiar driveway.

He knew he was younger, by the easy roll of his shoulders and the old leather jacket stuck with sweat to his face, while bunched against the window. The Mark blatantly missing from his forearm as he brushed down his sleep-ruffled hair, he checked his face in the sideview mirror. For a second, he thought he saw a gangly Sam in the backseat, but as soon as he turned around, he realized he was alone. Good, Sammy should be watching out for them in case the demon returned, not jumping headfirst into CC’s head. He felt bad enough about doing it without her knowledge, even if invading privacy was par for the course of desperate times.

Dean climbed out of the car, closing the door with a resounding clunk. He walked up to the old cast iron framed porch. The inside door swung open before Dean could knock, his hand held precariously in the air as he breathed out his greeting, “Uh, hi.”

“Go home, Dean.” Old Man Collins was exactly like he was the last time Dean saw him, in a word, dead. The entire right side of his face was peeled off, he remembered the chunks the wendigo had slashed from the ancient hunter before they had found him. Luckily for the situation at hand, his clothing was obscuring the more grotesque wounds. “This isn’t about you, boy.”

“Sir, I, uh,” Dean opened the screen door and met Chloe’s grandfather’s deep-set eyes. “Look, I need to find her, she got possessed on my watch and I need to make sure she is okay. I fucked up, bad and its on me to fix it.”

“Save your guilty sob story, son. That thing had its sights on you before CC showed up, but it’s not why Chloe’s gone. Not really.”

Dean’s mouth froze open, brow pinched in confusion. “Okay? But I need to know that CC is going to wake up.”

“She’ll live.”

“Forgive me, but that’s not too reassuring.”

The old man walked away, back into the house and settled in the recliner near the half wall between the living room and the kitchen. Dean followed, looking around as if someone else would appear at any moment. “Sit down, since you can’t bother to listen to reason, at least relax.”

The television was on, but the sound was off, an outdoor channel with fly fishing tips flickered on the old console set. They sat in uncomfortable silence before Dean stood suddenly. “Do you know when she’ll be back or, do I need to hop in the car and track her down?”

“She’s on her way now, but you’re going to leave before she gets here. She has enough things she needs to answer to without you mucking it up.”

“But I can help.”

The old Cheyenne man stood to size up the spunky upstart hunter. “You really can’t. You know I’m not Old Man Collins, right?”

Dean paused, nodding slowly. “You’re part of Chloe’s subconscious.”

“Yeah, the logical, bullshit free part. So, take that shiny black car and get. Before I start listing the reasons why you are no longer welcome in my home.”

“But, Cease and me–,” Dean gestured awkwardly then fumbled for words, the more he thought and spoke, the more he realized the apparition before him was right. Amused acknowledgement sparkled in the man’s dark eyes as Dean’s sheepishness stilled his tongue. “Is she going to wake up?

“That’s up to her, but she’ll live, neither Hell nor Holy water can snuff her out so easily.”

The walls shook and the sun set in a blaze as if in time-lapse, the dark room groaned as Dean caught himself on a lamp stand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not for you to know. Now, go. She can’t face what’s in the woods until you’re gone.” Dean felt lightheaded, he struggled to hold himself upright. Old Man Collins approached him, patting him firmly on the back. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“No, wait, Mr. Collins, please–,” Dean sat up, wrenching CC’s arm up as he turned to face the dream in which he was no longer welcome.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice and face were suddenly close as Dean squinted into the dim morning light.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Dean groaned, untangling CC’s hand from his before kicking his legs off the side of the bed.

“What happened?”

“I got kicked out. Couldn’t even get to her.”

“By whom?”

“Her grandad.” Dean shrugged. “Well, the stubborn ass part of her brain that showed itself as her grandad.”

“Huh.” Sam chewed on the information.

“Yeah, well, good news? She’s fine, physically, apparently. So, what’d you say we head home? Get her set up in safety while we wait for her to come to?”

Sam nodded, watching Dean’s disappointment bury itself behind action and planning. They carefully laid her in the backseat, consequently, it was still early enough for them not to draw any concern from other guests. Sam paid for both rooms, while Dean stopped to gas up her truck. Simple, easy tasks, busy work to be done as the Mark made its renewed presence known, tingling along his skin.

^*^

Denver, CO

Slipping back into your dissipated form was overwhelming, especially as you traveled farther away. You tested your limits, spiraling as fast as you could go, paying little mind to direction or destination. Experiencing the world as a raging cloud of damnation meant you sensed emotions and actions instead of seeing them. You bee-lined toward a city, with vessels to spare and fear and anger pulling you from your own thoughts. Thoughts of the ultimate rejection, and the look on Dean’s face as he let Sam’s words sweep you into the dust bin. Like you were nothing, or nothing more than the kill of the week.

If you had a gut, it would have rolled with your swift descent.

In the formlessness, with the vast sea of humans littered beneath you, every molecule of your being seemed to hum. Emotions and justifications rushing through your thoughts as you streaked against the heavy spring air. You were bombarded with their feelings like sound vibrations, rattling from an untested speaker system. When you found a corner where a pair of people sat, drenched in fear and lust, you landed at last.

The man was buzzed, but you weren’t sure if it was the gin or the pain killers for his back that were making everything fuzzy. They were on a bench, waiting for a bus. The African American woman sitting on the furthest edge away from the portly white man, who had clearly been making her uncomfortable. Once you got your bearings, you turned to her and smiled. “Don’t worry, Miss, he’s going to be out of commission for a while.”

She muffled a shriek and called on her savior as you stood and sauntered down the street.

*^*

May 6, 2014

Humboldt Hotel

Cleveland, OH

Dean’s body pulsed with purpose, defined by the certainty of his mission and its now tangible completion. If he could just keep Sam from getting in the way; it would be clean and quick. God help him, Dean’s brother always questioned direct orders; Dean tried to come off as practical, cautious. Meanwhile he was jonesing for the fight. The elevator seemed to take forever, the Penthouse unrestricted to even the likes of him, which set his hunter’s logic from four to twelve in the time it took for him to breach the top floor.

Crowley was scared, but he wasn’t stupid. The minion went down easy, almost too fast for him to enjoy it. Before Dean could continue his search, she was there. The Ginger Bitch herself, red lipped and gloating. He couldn’t wait to finish this, and the tug of a not-so-distant strand of memory told him that even this demon couldn’t hold him for long. The lethal combination of the Mark and the Blade only increased his confidence. The Knight that would be Queen was his to finish, if he could just get his ass off of this wall.

Abaddon wasn’t fucking around either, she knew he was her biggest threat despite her haughty sass. She didn’t even hesitate to throw everything she had at him. As the First Blade slipped through his fingers, Dean’s resolve stuttered, but the pull from the Mark centered him, honing the rage and blood lust to draw the weapon back into his grasp. At the moment of reconnection, Dean knew she had reached the bottom of the barrel, her powers no longer strong enough to contain him.

He didn’t register Sam’s entrance, or Crowley’s astonishment, he narrowed his eyes and stalked toward his prey. It was almost sad how easy it was now, the mangled bone slicing into her voluptuous vessel, impossibly smooth and satisfying. Once he had a taste, he needed more. Abaddon’s cries a siren’s call. Dean hacked into the demon, even as the flashes of her essence faded. The blood smattering his face and the floor, it’s warmth delicious, but the hunger never abated. It was only Sam’s voice breaking through the fog that got Dean to look beyond the corpse before him and his need to destroy.

The tunnel vision righted, and Dean was himself, or the new version of himself, the marked and armed version. Letting Crowley talk his way out of their demands, Dean knew that his list of potential kills held few as deserving as the King of Hell. But a Winchester didn’t back out on a deal and Crowley had done right by them, until CC’s face floated through his thoughts. He never even asked whose stooge had made a vegetable of her. Unfounded retaliation sounded perfectly acceptable now. The calm returned, because Dean would find the demon and he would take his time.

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