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fleursdemeduse · 3 years

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Remembrance AU: The First Time

So this isn't the first one I wrote for this "series", but this is the first one chronologically, so I decided this will be the first to be posted. Depending on how well this one and the other two I've written do will help me to decide if this is an AU I wanna continue or not. Feel free to send in asks and stuff about the AU!

Warnings: Violence ; Death

Words: 3.5k

You hated the nether. The thick dry heat choked you in a way that made you feel as if you had stepped into a wildfire in the middle of a desert, but worse. The smell of sulfur seemed to cling to your clothes in a way that made you gag every time. To be honest, you probably wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t appreciate the piglins. You were able to barter with them much easier than the villagers back home, and they had much better stuff. You snorted at the thought, and the large brute before you copied the action.

Home.

The village you had set up base in wasn’t really your home. Just a convenient place that you had set up your bed. A bed which now sat on the other side of the portal you had built on the lower level of the bastion below.

You were grateful to have access to the only thing you really needed in the nether. Trading with the piglins gave you a way to achieve more ender pearls so you wouldn’t have to kill the poor enderman on the surface. You held out another gold ingot to the brute, but he didn’t take it immediately. He was looking at something to the side of your exchange and you turned your head slightly to look too.

The heat of the nether was nothing compared to the warmth that immediately bubbled in your stomach. Everything seemed to fizzle out of existence aside from the large man that had entered the bastion. Which turned out to be your mistake.

Searing pain in your back made you grunt as you were knocked forward into the brute in front of you. You turned to see a ghast behind you that breathed another fireball. The piglin, upset at suddenly being “attacked” started to slice at you with its sword and you hissed at the damage you were taking. You didn’t want to kill the piglin. It didn’t understand that it had been an accident.

You cursed at yourself. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had been all this time, and your health felt dangerously low. Another hit from the explosion of the fireball and a swipe at the brute’s sword replaced the pain with nothing as you died.

You cursed when you woke up in your bed next to the portal. The mattress felt almost too soft as you struggled to remove yourself from it and fling yourself back through the portal. You flew up the steps, your feet taking them two at a time and you hoped your items hadn’t despawned.

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief when you saw Technoblade examining your items. You had been fast enough. You jogged up behind him, a grin on your lips, both relieved for your items and excited to finally meet him. “Hey!”

You immediately jolted to a stop at the sword now placed at your throat, but you could help but laugh at yourself. You should have expected that. You held up your hands in what you believed to be a non-threatening manner as you looked up at him.

“Sorry about that! I’m [y/n].” You watched him slowly lower the blade, eyes behind the mask narrowed at you. He looked both exactly how you expected and not how you expected at all.

“Technoblade.” You couldn’t help the giggle that spilled from your lips as you moved around him to collect your items and put back on your armor. Who hadn’t heard of him?

“Man, I hate ghasts. I worked really hard to save up all those levels, and now I have nothing.” You took a cursory glance at your levels. “Oh, I’m sorry, I have two. Fat load of help that would be. Glad I don’t need to enchant anything for a long while, hm?” You turned back to him once you had your golden boots buckled. You were totally going to take advantage of this opportunity to follow him like a puppy. No one else you had met seemed to actually understand you and the chance at an interaction with someone had you almost crawling up the walls. “Where are we off to, then?”

Techno just stared at you. You were much shorter than he was. At least a foot, if not more. How tall was he again? In this form, about seven feet, he thought. You were very short compared to him. The thought made his lips twitch before he turned, walking in the direction of where he last remembered there to be a fortress.

Chat was going crazy at the discovery of this new anomaly. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t met people he didn’t share a couple lifetimes with before. He had met plenty where they just didn’t meet in a life or two, such as George or Schlatt. But never someone he had shared none with. No one here seemed to speak of anyone new either. It was always the same people, a different storyline. As if DreamXD -or maybe Kristen? He had only met her once, but she had been very kind. Would this be her department, then?- just kept recycling their souls into new realities like a -what did that lifetime call it? A movie? Chat confirmed his thought- played for their own entertainment until they got bored and it was onto the next.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were talking again, but the roar in his brain was louder, so he didn’t pay too much attention to your words, despite how the soft timbre of your voice made something bubble in his chest. What were you even doing here? He had seen you trading with the piglins before your death, -you had respawned so quickly, anyone else in this lifetime took two or three days but you seemed to reappear in what felt like seconds- so why were you following him now?

Chat’s whispers echoed through his mind.

I wonder who they are.

They can’t be older than Tommy.

Maybe we should kill them again, see what happens this time.

Wilbur will want to know about this.

They said their name was [y/n]?

Maybe they’re like Phil.

Pog.

Blood for the blood god.

They’re probably closer to Wilbur’s age.

Stab them.

Jump off the edge.

Push them off the edge.

Techno, will you call my friend Rachel a nerd?

All warfare is based on deception.

His fingers twitched around his sword at the thought. Was this all a trick? It couldn’t be.

Could it?

He glanced at you once more, focusing on your words, finally.

“-like they seem to notice, y’know? I just kind of walk into their houses, take from their chests, and move on. Hell, I even put my bed in, I think the library? Not one of them batted an eye! It’s almost scary, to be honest. I can loot their things, sleep in their beds, practically dismantle their homes, and I get nothing but a “Hnn.” in response!” A small pout found its way to your lips and Techno hummed in response. This seemed to be what you wanted to hear because a smile replaced the pout and you looked up at him. “So where are we going again?”

“Fortress.” His words were short, tone clipped, as if he didn’t know if you were gonna shove him into the lava, or if that was what he planned to do to you. It didn’t matter, to be honest. You were just thrilled he was letting you accompany him. Heart soaring at the feeling of interacting with another intelligent being once more. He even seemed to be listening as you rambled! That had to be a good thing, right? You hadn’t really met anyone else on the server yet, aside from distantly watching Dream, George, and Sapnap build the large building that stood in the center of what they dubbed the Dream SMP. A small giggle fell from your lips. That would have been a cute name had one of the members not been named it. Rather, it just felt self-centered because of that. You were mildly afraid of approaching the trio. You were almost afraid of how they would react when they met you.

You edged closer to the bridge to the fortress with Technoblade and you felt your heart speed up a little. Ash floated across your vision and you felt it hard to breathe for a moment. The sweat that made your clothes stick to your skin under your armor made you feel clammy. You had only been in one of these once since coming here when you wanted to try your hand at learning how to craft potions and needed blaze rods.

That.. hadn’t worked out in your favor.

You had only had one set of diamond armor, and you hadn’t even enchanted it at the time. When the wither skeletons had overtaken you and murdered you without a thought, you remembered racing back and trying to get your items back. This had only led to yet another death, however. Your eyebrows furrowed as the question entered your mind.

How many times had you died?

You remember when you first came to this world, waking up next to a river with a chest filled with bread, a map, a wooden axe, and a few other paltry items sitting before you surrounded by torches. The gentle babble of the water easing you awake and the smell of fresh flowers floated through the breeze. You almost didn’t mind the ants that were crawling on the ledge just a tad too close to you. You remember being so confused and the days being so hard at first. You didn’t even sleep the first couple days because you hadn’t found a village yet. The stupid phantoms that had attacked you had made you way more aggressive than you had meant to be. But you were tired and you were frustrated and you just wanted to find a stupid village already. You had been residing in the one you were in now since you had first found it your third day here. The first two deaths happening on your second day. One because of said phantoms and one because you had fallen from a cliff. You were devastated at the lack of supplies and progress when you just respawned next to that river, awaking to a few scattered zombies and a skeleton or two. You had dug yourself a hole and cried in it while you waited for sun-up. Many more deaths had happened since, but you couldn't seem to be able to remember the number now.

You hadn’t planned on returning to a fortress until you had better equipment, fearing another death. Something better than your diamond armor and golden boots and your sole netherite sword, but who were you to miss the opportunity to go exploring with The Blood God? Besides you had a bow with Power IV you had stolen from a skeleton that had been in the village. You didn’t know how durable it still was, but it was better than nothing, right?

The rattling of bones brought you out of your thoughts. Already a couple of blazes and some wither skeletons were approaching. You drew your sword, heart hammering in your chest. This wouldn’t be like last time. You had Technoblade to back you up. The top PVPer. The winner of the potato war. The Blood God. You could do this. You could do this.

A lucky swing from one of the wither skeletons caught you in the arm and you hissed as the wither effect immediately took hold and you jolted at the feeling. It was numbing. You felt nauseated. Another hit and you gasped when you felt your health drop to a dangerous level. You sliced up with your sword, removing its head from its spine with a gnarly “click” and you immediately moved out of fire to drink some milk and eat a couple of the pieces of salmon you had brought with you.

Whilst you were letting your health regenerate, you removed your bow from your inventory, aiming at one of the blazes, only to watch something white hit it first. You hesitated, looking towards Technoblade, only to see him ignoring the wither skeletons that were approaching you and focusing on throwing snowballs at the flaming mob. Your lips twitched. Fine. You’d take care of the skeletons, then.

You grabbed your sword once more and began attacking the skeletons in front of you with reckless abandon. You were growing mildly frustrated. Your arm hurt now and Techno seemed to be leaving you on your own to fight off the horde that was slowly amassing. There had only been four of them at first, but now four more had sprinted over to join the fray when they saw the two of you. Now, minus the one you had already taken care of and the two Technoblade had killed within the first ten seconds of their approach, there were five. You winced when you heard the sound of both blazes being taken care of and you hadn’t even killed one more.

‘-so she throws this apple, she just chucks this apple and says like, only the hottest goddess can take this apple.’ Chat loved it when he told them mythology stories, despite them being there when he had read it.

Greek mythology pog.

Semi-demi god for the win!

Speaking of discord, how’s the new person doing?

Persephone is definitely the hottest.

At the mention of you, Techno turned his attention to the sound of metal hitting metal and was surprised to see you still standing there, despite being crowded by wither skeletons. Just another thing to tack onto the list about you. He watched you kill another one, followed by a yelp as you took another hit, the wither effect turning the flesh around your wound a purplish black before you killed one more. You backed up on the bridge, drinking more milk and eating another piece of fish. He could see how the action pained you, but you were resilient.

They’re stupid.

Look at them wave that sword around, do they even know what they’re doing?

They haven’t died again yet?

They can’t be one of Schlatt’s people.

Save them.

Technoblade, wasn’t Eris the daughter of Zeus?

He decided to wait and see what you did. If you died, there was more for him to loot. If you didn’t, then it was a lesson. Either way, he wouldn’t have to worry about protecting you further into the fortress. His nose twitched at the smell of your blood and of rot that seemed to ooze off the skeletons. He still needed more wither skulls.

The remaining four attacked you again, despite your low health, and you felt as if you were going to cry. You hated the nether.

Two more were dispatched a lot faster than the first ones had been and you swallowed. Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you felt just the slightest bit more confident in yourself.

Two more left.

You ducked at a swing, movement still slow. You only had one more milk left, and that scared you. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, get hit again with their stupid swords and their stupid wither effect. You sliced with your sword, hooking the metal into the rib cage in front of you and sending the skeleton careening into the other just as it swung down, making the attack miss.You flinched at the sound of metal hitting stone, but you recovered faster than the skeletons in front of you. You could do this.

Another hit, your sword cutting through the skeleton’s vertebrate and killing it. You could do this.

One more.

Your sword was met with metal as you blocked its attack and you grunted, knocking it back. You could do this!

A downward slice had you throwing yourself back onto the side of the bridge as you dodged. You couldn’t die. Not here. Not now. Not in front of Technoblade again. You shoved another piece of salmon into your mouth as you backed up. You really hoped there weren’t any more blazes around. Or more skeletons waiting for you. You shoved yourself off the wall, hitting the wither skeleton with your shoulder to knock it back again before you struck once more, across the neck, beheading it.

The sight of three wither skulls in your inventory made you fall to your knees and you let out a sigh in relief. Your arms ached. Your wounds ached. Your head ached. Your vision doubled for a moment. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You felt great, despite how dizzy you felt at the moment. You looked at Technoblade, hoping to find him still there.

He was leaned against the wall of the fortress, watching you with crossed arms.

Was he waiting on you?

The thought made you perk up and you scrambled to stand, rushing to him while holding the skulls. “Here! I got them all!”

He merely blinked at you as you handed him all three skulls you had gotten from your fight, placing them into his inventory after a moment. He didn’t speak, just turned to descend further in. Were you supposed to follow him?

You did anyways, feeling proud of yourself. He had waited on you!

The rest of the fortress had been like that. You continuously fighting wither skeletons, blazes, regular skeletons, zombified piglins, and magma cubes, only to turn over your loot to the large warrior who would patiently wait for you. You kept a few of the bars of gold, some diamonds, and one of the saddles you had found, but ultimately, you were just spare hands to help him. The experience you were gaining was more than enough, especially since he seemed to be listening to you ramble on and on. He’d occasionally hum or grunt in response, but not much more than that. It was still such a sweet sound in your ears, despite the constant crackle of fire that just filled the nether.

He didn’t speak when he decided he was finished, just started walking back the way you came and you immediately fell into step next to him when he walked past you.

Despite your exhaustion and the pain you felt, this trip felt more than worth it.

When you returned to the bastion where you two had first met, you grinned up at him.

Techno felt his breath catch in his throat at your smile. That smile almost made the sweltering brightness of the nether feel cold and dark. He had never had someone, aside from Tommy, smile at him with such warmth. No one had a smile like yours. They were all weighed heavy with the memories from lifetimes no longer in reach. But you? You were so tired from accompanying him, still wounded from fighting for him. Aside from the couple small treasures you had hidden away, you had given him everything. There was really no reason for you to have gone with him when you received virtually nothing in return. And now you smiled at him like that? You were-

TechnoSIMP.

Look at how cute they are.

They’re stupid.

Take them back with us.

You should give them something for helping.

Hug them.

Awww look at them!

All warfare is based on deception.

He stopped that thought before it could fully finish.

“I should get going. I don’t know how dark it is and I want a bath.” He nodded at you. “I’ll catch you some other time, alright? Don’t be afraid to come by sometime if you need a buddy again, okay?”

He only hummed in response and watched you glide down the stairs of the bastion to a portal he had never noticed before.

A buddy? You weren’t a buddy. What did he really know about you?

You respawned faster than anyone else he had met. There hadn’t been another chance to test that, but you seemed unphased with your death. When you held up your hands, he couldn’t see the usual hearts on your wrist that they all shared. Even when normal members lost a life, he’s noticed that the normally red hearts are cracked and black. Phil himself had one on the center of his wrist. But yours were bare from the mark. You weren’t immortal, were you? Had he come across a god?

He chuckled at the thought.

Such a tiny god compared to him.

For now, he had to return to Pogtopia. He had to tell Wilbur about you. Perhaps write to Phil and ask if he knew anything about people with no or unlimited lives. He would repay your kindness at a later date.

He only hoped you wouldn’t be on the other side of this war.

#RemembranceAU #dsmp au #dream smp au #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #technoblade x reader #platonic!technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #unsure if this will be a series or not?#if it does end up as one #might post multiple non canon romance options #tw: violence #tw: death

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

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3x04: Sin City

Then:

Dean killed Azazel

Now:

A nun wanders an empty church, replacing hymnals. The priest finds her and offers to walk her to her car. They both find a parishioner in the balcony who gets their attention by announcing that “God’s not with us.” He then shoots himself in the head. Ooof.

While Dean and Bobby work on the Colt, Sam informs them that he’s found sightings of demonic omens. Bobby stays behind to figure out how the Colt works while Dean and Sam take off for Ohio and the new case.

Interviewing the priest, the brothers learn that things changed in the town about two months prior --the same time they opened the devil’s gate.

The brothers then head to their motel room, where Dean runs into an old hunter friend, Richie. They banter and then they all talk shop. Whatever’s happening, doesn’t make sense. (Sidenote: Dean’s pumped that the room has Magic Fingers. Yay, bby) Dean asks about anyone in town whose whole personality has changed. Richie answers, “There’s Trotter.” He’ll be at his bar in a couple hours.

The town is anything but a boarded up factory town. It’s got coeds as far as the eye can see, and Dean’s ready to do some research. Trotter’s Bar is the epicenter of debauchery. They find the priest there.

Sam wonders what the padre is doing there. He goes where the flock is.

Dean then gets to flirt mildly with the bartender and fun fact: He likes Hurricanes. I feel like this is one part of Dean’s personality not explored in later seasons. Let the boy drink his fruity drinks, 202K!

Before anyone can react, a man walks in and shoots another man dead.

Dean tackles the assailant before he can off himself. Sam throws holy water on him, but he’s not possessed. The man admits that the victim slept with his wife. (Sam sees Dana Scully’s dad from across the bar. Man, things are REALLY WEIRD here.) (Natasha: Nooo he’s the general from Stargate!)

The cops later take the man away and tell Sam and Dean that the paper will be there shortly to take their pictures.

That’s the brothers’ cue to leave. Dean wonders where Richie is before they take off.

Richie is with the bartender. She’s taken him to her parent’s country estate. It’s secluded and has toys. Just when things are getting interesting for poor Richie, the bartender reveals she’s really a demon, and she knows he’s a hunter. WHERPS. He tries attacking, but she snaps his neck in two seconds flat. Richie!

Later at the bar, Dean forgoes eating his burger to track down the missing Richie. Sam decides to follow Trotter.

Bobby, meanwhile, is getting the Colt back into fighting shape. Ruby shows up and taunts him to test out the Colt. He does. The aim is true but the bullets aren’t right. She offers to help him with the gun.

The brothers practice seriously dangerous cell phone usage (Seriously Sammy? You didn’t put it on silent? Seriously Dean? You’re driving while not hands free? UGH.)

Dean’s back at the bar and a prostitute approaches him for a discounted good time. Dean doesn’t pay. (Or is that Sam? IDK, neither of them have to pay. Have you seen them!?) The bartender is back at work and saw the whole thing. It doesn’t deter her that Dean struck out with a prostitute and they head out for fun times elsewhere.

Sam watches Dana Scully’s dad leave his office and heads in himself to investigate. Dana Scully’s Dad Trotter appears again and there’s a slight tussle before Sam realizes that he’s also not a demon. Sam awkwardly realizes his mistake and makes his exit. Sweet dumb boy.

Dean, meanwhile, is heading down the same path as his dead buddy Richie. Dean’s no dummy though and sets up a devil’s trap. He pulls out his Latin book to exorcise her back to Hell. He doesn’t have it memorized yet and she starts up a demon wind machine. He loses the pages AND the basement door caves in. Worst Date Ever.

Later, Dean explores his new prison to the amusement of the demon trapped with him. She mocks him openly for not having an exorcism memorized.

The demon taunts Dean expertly. Dean Bean’s offended at being labeled the dumb one and I am OFFENDED on his behalf! They wait to see whose rescue is going to arrive first - Dean’s or hers.

Sam frets at the bar over his missing brother, and bribes the bartender for his whereabouts.

Meanwhile, Dean and the demon’s snarkfest marathon continues. She tells him that she didn’t even have to engage in mystical hijinks to send people in town into an evil tailspin. All she had to do was drop a few suggestions about the profit of vice to Trotter and humans took care of the rest. She describes humans as weak and corrupt.

For Constantly Weak for Dean Winchester and SYMBOLISM Science:

Sam heads inside her (other) house and finds sulfur. The game is afoot!

Meanwhile, Dean and the demon enjoy a little philosophical exchange. “Do you believe in God, Dean?” she asks him while I chew my own arm off. She sets up the apocalyptic battle from the demon perspective. Humans have wrought carnage on their world, so it’s the demons’ turn to “do it right this time.”

Sam’s back at the bar again, calling Bobby to report that he can’t find Dean. I guess the game is...not so afoot after all. The bartender offers him booze before downing a shot himself and, frustrated with the townsfolk, Sam zeroes in on the priest who’s still hanging out in the bar.

Demon Casey tells Dean that she’s faithful to Lucifer, light-bringer and the one who will raise demons up. She’s a believer. Dean oh-so-casually asks what Hell is like and the BRAVADO masking the FEAR! Jensen Ackles, your face hurts me sometimes.

For HURTSSSSS MEEE Science:

She sees right through him. “It’s a pit of despair,” she tells him frankly. “Why do you think we want to come here?”

Sam, meanwhile, is involved in a terribly awkward discussion with the priest at the bar. He’s worried about his brother and thinks he might be…..in trouble. The priest offers to bring Sam to Casey. His eyes turn black as he turns away from Sam.

The demon and Dean have settled into a friendly heart to heart at this point. She tells him that she actually likes him and thinks he did something good when he sold his soul to save Sam.

Dean tries to laugh off her real talk. He thinks it’s freeing to be damned - he can live his life any way he wants now. He’s totally not scared at all. Not at all!!!

The demon riding the priest interrogates Sam, asking him about his aspirations for the future. Yeah! Why aren’t ya in college, Sam!

Dean and Demon Casey continue to bond, and the scene takes the tone of a couple kids just chilling in the basement talking about life. Which is...actually sort of accurate.

Casey tells Dean that Yellow Eyes, a.k.a. Azazel, had a plan to bring the minions of Hell to Earth, but Dean killing him put a significant wrench in those plans. She tells him that Sam was supposed to lead the demon army. Uh. Wherps. Instead of Sam, there’s a power vacuum in Hell. Demons everywhere are fighting for the crown. “For the record,” she tells him, “I was ready to follow Sam.” And damn, if I don’t get the feeling that Dean likes her a little better because of that.

Sam and his demon priest arrive. Dean issues a warning to Sam, but Sammy doesn’t have to worry because Bobby shows up with the Colt! Bobby hands off the gun to Sam, Ruby smirking in the background. The priest breaks into the basement and smashes through the devil’s trap holding Demon Casey in. They kiss while Dean looks on in surprise.

Surprise, Dean! They’ve been lovers for centuries! Casey begs the demon priest for Dean’s life and it gives just enough delay for Sam to shoot the priest with the Colt. The priest flashes out. Dean tries to stop Sam from killing Demon Casey but Sam shoots. She flashes out as well. Remember, kids, there’s no room for love on Supernatural unless it’s DOOMED LOVE.

The next morning, Dean tries to figure out what they actually won from this hunt. There are two demons dead and one alive - and very bad - human. “Maybe these people wanna destroy themselves. Maybe it is a losing battle,” Dean opines to Bobby. He notes that Sam’s dispatch of both demons was “cold” and brings up Azazel’s words to him: When Sam came back, he might have come back different. They both agree (halfheartedly) that Sam is doing FINE and is definitely not at all concerning.

Sam and Ruby meet up in a hotel room. Sam’s suffering regrets and calls Ruby a “cold bitch.” She takes issue with this assessment, particularly since she’s saved his life a few times. I mean, knowing about Ruby aside, I fully agree here. Fun fact! The word “bitch” was used four times in this episode! Ruby continues to dangle the hope that she might be able to help save Dean from his deal. Sam levels the Colt at her.

Sam threatens to kill her, but it’s just empty words. Ruby warns him that the fight ahead won’t be easy, but she’ll be there by his side. A little “fallen angel” on his shoulder. (Shakes my head at this goddamn show.)

Where Everybody Knows Your Quotes:

Toys trump oils

A demon with a heart. Wow

You don't get it. All you got to do is nudge humans in the right direction

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #ruby #spn 3x04 #sin city #supernatural season 2

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

Paint it Black

gif credit: @spnwhenever

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3103

Summary: Dean must deal with a particularly nasty demon after it possesses his girlfriend.

Notes: Kicking off the final week of the Winchester Takeover, this imagine is based on the song ‘Paint it Black’ by the Rolling Stones. Both Dean imagines are song based this week, so I hope you guys enjoy!

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

I see your red door

I want it painted black

“Deeeeaaan.” Your sing-song voice made him shiver. “It’s cold in here, Dean.”

“I said stop talking.” He spat, pacing back and forth outside the circle. Sam eyed him cautiously, the tension of the room making his chest tight. He had to keep a cool head.

As much as it pained him, he wasn’t sure Dean would do what had to be done if it came down to it. It would have to be him.

“Dean,” He sighed, opening up the journal. “We have to do this.”

“Just wait a second, Sam.” His eyes pleaded, his panic evident in his voice. “We can figure this out.”

“Come on Dean.” You groaned. “I can see in her head and I think we both know I’m a lot more fun.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean lunged towards you, but Sam stopped him. A sick smirk spread across your face.

“I knew this would be fun.” You closed your eyes and opened them again. Dean felt his blood run cold, staring deeply into the empty black.

24 Hours Earlier

“This is a bad idea.” Sam covered his face with his hands as you stared down his brother.

“This is between me and Maverick, Samuel.” You smirked. Dean just glared back at you.

“Don’t call me that.” He growled, but even Sam could hear the playful tone in his voice. You had given him the mocking nickname when you discovered his fear of planes. That, and his inability to follow the rules. You knew that he secretly liked it. “Are you ready to put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart?”

“Just shut up and drink.” With a hand signal from Sam, you started downing shot after shot of tequila. Dean was gaining speed, but you were too stubborn to let him win. You finished the last shot when he still had three to go. Letting out a victory cheer, you gave Sam a high five, wobbling slightly from the impact.

“I had a couple beers earlier.” Dean mumbled as a begrudged excuse. You sloppily kissed his cheek.

“Next round’s on you, champ.”

“I think we should head in for the night.” He gave you a suggestive smile and Sam took that as his cue to leave. Your mouth opened in mock offense.

“Dean Winchester, did you get me drunk so you could get me in bed?” You snorted when you laughed, but Dean found it incredibly attractive.

“Something like that.” He leaned his head down to meet your lips with his for a kiss that was far too inappropriate for standing in the middle of a bar.

“Guys, come on.” Sam groaned from the other side of the room. “We have a motel room… go use it.” The mood was quickly killed when the door to the bar flung open and a bloodied, screaming woman burst in.

“Somebody, help me!” She stumbled towards you and Dean caught her before she could trip. “Please, it’s my son. Something’s wrong with him.”

“Where is he, ma'am?” Sam asked and she pointed out to the parking lot.

“He-he killed my husband.” She bawled, clinging to Dean’s jacket. She looked pretty hurt.

“I’ll stay with her, go find him.” You said, gently prying her away from him. You told the bartender to get you some bandages and something to clean the wounds with. Dean and Sam rushed out the front door and you took the woman to the back room for some privacy.

Dean followed Sam and ducked down behind a beat up old truck for cover. There, in the middle of the lot, was a man’s body, his face all carved up and clothes drenched in blood. More importantly, the smell of sulfur lingered in the air.

“Demon.” Dean growled. They cautiously searched the entire premises, but there was no sign of the son. “Well that’s just great.”

“Let’s get back to Y/N and see what the woman knows.” Sam suggested.

“That’s going to be hard.” You sighed, wiping your hands off on a rag as you walked towards them. “She’s dead.” You froze, smelling the air. “Sulfur?” The boys nodded. “Wonderful.”

“We need to head back to the motel and sober you two up before we do anything.” Sam held his hand and Dean threw him the keys to the impala. Dean sighed. There went his plans for the rest of the night.

“No rest for the wicked, sweetheart.” He draped an arm over your shoulders and you leaned into him, hiding your bloody knife in your boot.

No colors anymore

I want them to turn black

Dean took a cold shower to clear his head, still foggy from the alcohol. You seemed fine, considering how much you had had. Sam was watching you with a curious eye.

“You sure you’re doing okay?” He wondered. You gave him a small smile.

“There was nothing I could do. She was half dead coming into that bar.” You shrugged. That’s the moment Sam knew something was up. Every death, no matter how hopeless, always ate at you for days. This wasn’t just alcohol calming you down.

“Right.” He nodded, letting his suspicions seep into his mind. Dean came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“So what’s the plan?” The three of you gathered around the table and you tossed the woman’s wallet in front of the brothers.

“I grabbed this so we could figure out who she was and where her son might have headed. Her name was Jolene Arthurs. That should at least give us a place to start.” They nodded in agreement. You stood. “Okay, it’s my turn for the shower, but when I get out, let’s head over to the Arthur house and see if we can find the son.”

You vanished into the bathroom and Sam waited for the water to run before leaning to his brother, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Is she acting a little weird to you?” Both pairs of eyes looked at the closed door. Dean shrugged.

“She seemed fine to me. Hell, she’s holding up great considering she had more tequila than I did.”

“Exactly.”

Under the hot water, you washed the woman’s blood off of your skin, cleaning off the knife as well. It was a good thing the bar was pretty empty. She was a screamer.

“Get out of me, you black-eyed bitch.” You tsked at your reflection.

“Now that’s not very hospitable of you.” It was your voice, but it didn’t sound like you. With a quick blink, your eyes turned black. “You and I are going to have such fun together, Y/N. Who knows, maybe I’ll get to take Dean for a spin. I’ve always wondered what he’s like in bed and from what I can tell from all those dirty thoughts of yours,” A sick smirk spread across your face. “He’s delicious.”

“If you touch him, I swear to God-”

“We both know the big man doesn’t care about little insignificant problems like us, so why don’t you try a different threat?”

“I promise you, I’m going to send your ass back to hell faster than you can say Lucifer.”

You leaned on the sink, looking deeply into the mirror.

“Baby, if I’m going to hell, you’re coming with me.”

A knock at the door almost made you jump. With one more quick wink to the mirror, your eyes returned to normal and opened the bathroom door, finding Dean on the other side. You gave him a bright and confident smile.

“Did Sam figure out where the house is?”

“Uh, yeah, we’re about to head over.” He stepped into the room and closed the door, eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay? Sam thinks you’ve been acting a little weird and I know that you think you could have saved that woman-”

“She was so scared, Dean.” You whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. Time to try a different method. “I… I tried, but she had lost so much blood. She begged me to save her. She begged to see her family one last time.” Your lip trembled and any suspicion Dean had immediately dispelled. He pulled you into his arms. “E-every death hurts, Dean.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He soothed, running his fingers through your hair. That’s why you were acting strange. You were trying to hold it together in front of Sam. “Tell you what,” he pulled back enough to look down at you with a small smile, “when this case is over, how about you and I go on a little vacation? Just the two of us. We could go camping in the Rockies like you said you’ve been wanting to.”

“Really?” You sniffed, wiping your eyes. He nodded and leaned in for a kiss.

“It’s not me, baby. That’s not me!”

You wrapped your arms around him again and smiled into the mirror.

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue

The day was spent looking through county records and checking the Arthur house. Nothing gave you any clue as to where Jolene’s son, Mika, might have gone. Sam was frustrated, but he made sure to keep an eye on you. Dean shrugged off your behavior as being upset about Jolene, but Sam wasn’t convinced. Something was just… off.

You kept up your act perfectly. Dean would occasionally cast you a sympathetic smile and reminded you about the camping trip he’d promised once this was all over with. Dean Winchester was a good boyfriend. Who would have guessed? Man, this was going to be fun.

“Stay away from him, you Pazuzu wanna-be.”

You ignored the quip.

“I got something!” Dean announced, coming into the room with Mrs. Arthur’s wallet. He held up a small piece of paper with an address on it. “Mica’s new apartment. So proud of him!” He read. “Hopefully our demon is holed up there.”

“What if the demon isn’t him anymore?” Sam suggested. You shrugged.

“Well this is our only lead, Sam. We might as well look into it.”

Sam gave you a once over and you stared innocently back at him. Maybe he was just being paranoid. The two Winchesters went out to the car and you gritted your teeth. Sam was a problem. You’d have to take care of him if you were going to get to his big brother. Oh well.

Arriving at the apartment building, Sam and Dean prepared themselves for an exorcism, grabbing supplies to make a devil’s trap just in case. You brought your knife. All you needed was a moment alone with Sammy boy…

Dean knocked loudly on the door and at first, there was nothing. Listening carefully, you all heard the sounds of someone scuffling inside. He was trying to get away. Dean kicked in the door and you filed inside, finding the young man trying to climb out the window. The older Winchester grabbed him the back of his jacket and yanked him back into the room. Mica cried out for help, earning a hard punch to the mouth from Dean.

“It isn’t in me! It isn’t in me!” He cried. One of his flailing arms hit Dean in the nose and he was able to break away. He grabbed you, wrapping an arm around your throat. He smelled like pathetic fear. Being in his head was like having a conversation with a frightened frat boy. You were much more interesting.

“Let her go.” Dean growled. Sam gripped the demon blade in his hand, but he didn’t dare make an attack. One quick movement and Mica could snap your neck.

“I just want to get out of here, man.” Mica sniffed. “I saw what that thing did to my mom. It was in me. I don’t know how, but it was in me.” His body shook as he tried to hold you against him as a shield.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Dean started to circle around him, slowly as to not startle him. Great. A macho showdown. Boring.

“Ugh, this isn’t fun anymore.” You whined, whirling around and slicing your knife across Mica’s throat. The young man sputtered and choked, blood pouring down from his neck, before collapsing.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Sam exclaimed. You smiled, closing your eyes.

“Guess again Sammy.” Both brothers revolted, staring into the cold black that replaced your eyes.

“You son of a-” Dean started towards you and you quickly turned your blade on yourself, plunging it deep into your side. Dean screamed. “No!” You winked at him before falling next to the boy you had slaughtered.

I could not foresee this thing happening to you

When you came round again, there was a bandage on your wound, tightly bound to try and stop the blood. You were strapped down to a chair, a devil’s trap painted on the floor beneath you.

“I didn’t take you for a bondage kind of guy.” You smirked at the scowling hunter.

“Shut up.” He snapped. Sam searched his bag for his journal.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Sammy. Y/N here is looking a little rough.” You motioned to the wound. “In fact, her little annoying voice is fading already.”

“Stop it.” Dean’s fists clenched at his sides. The demon was right. If they exercised it now, Y/N might not make it.

The window Mica had tried to escape from was still open, sending a cool breeze flowing through the room.

“Deeeeaaan.” Your sing-song voice made him shiver. “It’s cold in here, Dean.”

“I said stop talking.” He spat, pacing back and forth outside the circle. Sam eyed him cautiously, the tension of the room making his chest tight. He had to keep a cool head.

As much as it pained him, he wasn’t sure Dean would do what had to be done if it came down to it. It would have to be him.

“Dean,” He sighed, opening up the journal. “We have to do this.”

“Just wait a second, Sam.” His eyes pleaded, his panic evident in his voice. “We can figure this out.”

“Come on Dean.” You groaned. “I can see in her head and I think we both know I’m a lot more fun.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean lunged towards you, but Sam stopped him. A sick smirk spread across your face.

“I knew this would be fun.” You closed your eyes and opened them again. Dean felt his blood run cold, staring deeply into the empty black. You leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss. Dean jerked away and you cackled wickedly. It didn’t sound like your laugh. Your laugh was hearty and warm. This sound was icy and cruel.

“Do it Sam.” He said, backing out of the circle.

“I can give her back to you Dean.” You offered slyly. “I can keep her alive and rent her out to you whenever you like. All you have to do is let me stay.”

“Go to hell.”

“Don’t you want to see her again? To hear her voice? She’s just dying to get her hands on you, Dean. I can hear her screaming.”

“Sam, do it!”

“She’ll die, Dean! You’ll kill her.”

Dean couldn’t look at you. No, it wasn’t you. It was a demon. He knew what you would want. Turning away, he gave Sam a nod. The latin words were almost drowned out by your screaming. Shrieks filled the room until the dark cloud finally shot up into the air, diving back into the fiery pit.

Everything went silent. Sam stared at the limp body in front of him and Dean kept his back turned away. Sam suddenly put a hand on his arm.

“Dean,” he started softly. His eyes widened. “Dean, she’s still alive!”

Sam rushed to you as you stirred, coughing and trying to speak. Dean ran and fell to his knees beside the chair, helping his brother to undo the restraints. You slumped forward into his arms. You tried to speak, but your voice was garbled and inaudible.

“I’ve got you, baby. It’s alright now. I’ve got you.” He hushed. Your eyes held a terror that he had never seen before as they welled with tears. “Sam and I are gonna take a look at you, okay?” You nodded weakly and they lifted up your shirt to look at the wound. You winced as Sam lifted the bandage.

“We’ve gotta get her out of here.” He concluded. Dean slowly lifted you up in his arms, moving extra carefully so that you wouldn’t be in any more pain.

“You’re gonna be just fine, sweetheart.” Dean promised. He looked into your Y/E/C eyes and smiled. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I want to see it painted, painted,

Painted Black

They told the doctors that you were mugged. That the man who did it got away without them getting a good look. It was enough for them to not ask more questions. When they asked for next of kin, they said that they were the only family you had, which was the first true thing they said since they stepped in the hospital.

Dean was sitting in the lobby, his leg bouncing up and down with nervous anticipation. Sam had made him stop pacing because he was getting odd looks from people. They were both bloodstained and exhausted, so people steered clear of their direction.

“You can go back now.” The nurse announced. Both Winchester boys jumped out of their seats and nearly sprinted down the hall.

“Now, Miss Y/L/N, you need to lay down-”

“No, you don’t understand, I have to see them.” You fought against her as she tried to urge you back into the bed. Your eyes locked with your boyfriend’s and you let out a cry of relief. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I should have known. I should have seen it in that woman before I helped her-”

“Shhhh,” Dean took you in his arms, making sure he didn’t bump your bandages. “I thought I lost you, baby.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Sam sighed, giving you a small, guilty smile.

“You did what you had to, Sam.” You assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

After they got you checked out, Dean kept his promise and took you camping. It was a break that you needed. Sometimes, you could feel the darkness closing in again, that inky black that the demon had tormented you with. But Dean kept it away, like he always did.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

#dean winchester x reader #supernatural imagines #rolling stones #paint it black #sam winchester #demon #dean winchester #jensen ackles #Jared Padalecki #winchester take over #october

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sams-sass · 4 years

Text

The Others pt. 2

GIF not mine

Hi!! Here is part two to this series! So happy you guys are liking this. Thanks for all the love.

Read Part One, Three, Four, and FiveHere:

Part One

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Summary: You, Sam, and Dean look for your friend. Things begin to heat up between you and Sam

Characters: You, Sam, Dean

Pairings: Sam x Psychic!Reader

Warnings: angst, discussions of death, injury, fluff

------------------------

Sam and Dean busted through the door, guns out and ready for a fight. You were still standing in the same spot, your phone still in your hand. Your eyes were wide but unseeing as shock and fear settled deep within your gut. Sam touched your shoulder, allowing you to breathe. Dean took off, searching your apartment with precision.

“Did she say anything?” Sam asked you, his eye brows coming together and shoulders hunching. You shook your head as the tears filled your eyes. “Could she be anywhere else?” He was trying hard to sound as calm and relaxed as possible so he didn’t freak you out anymore then you already were. You blinked and closed your eyes trying to think of Jenny’s schedule. You knew she didn’t have class and all activities had been cancelled. You looked up at Sam, finding peace in his eyes.

“No, she should be here.” Your voice was just above a whisper. You walked away and into her room, looking around for a clue. Her cellphone sat on her bed, your blood froze in your veins. You picked it up and a vision almost knocked you off your feet.

Jenny sat on her bed flipping through a magazine, music playing in the background. She was laughing when she heard a noise from the living room, her head shot up. She called out your name while holding her breath. No one answered. Her door creaked open and she let out a scream.

“Where is she? Where is Y/N?” Brandon asked, his lip curling with anger.

“I don’t know, please.” Jenny was sobbing, her face contorting in sorrow and confusion. He didn’t answer, just gave her a wicked smile before charging at Jenny and effortlessly taking her with him.

You blinked back into the present and dropped her phone, covering your mouth and falling to your knees. Sam and Dean were in the doorway, confusion and fear on their faces.

“He’s got her. I saw him. He took her. He took her.” You were shaking, your voice was high pitched and frantic in the quiet apartment. You started to cry and your wails bounced off the walls of Jenny’s empty room.

“Who has her?” Sam asked you, he walked over to you and knelt in front of you, taking your shoulders in his large hands.

“Brandon. I don’t know his last name, but he’s in one of my classes. I hate the way I feel when I’m near him, there is so much evil in him.” Your hands were in your hair, holding your head up as your elbows rested on your knees.

“Ok, ok. Brandon, we will find him and get Jenny back.” Sam was staring at you, everything in you wanted to bury yourself in his chest. Let him hold you until the sun came up. Instead you stood up, letting Sam help.

“No you don’t understand. He wanted me, he came here with the intention to take me but he found Jenny instead. This is all my fault. He wants me.” You placed your hand on your stomach, feeling sick and uneasy. Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Sam touched your back and gave you a soft smile.

“Y/N, is there anyone you can stay with? We can take you home?” He asked you, bending down slightly to look into your face.

“No, no. I can’t leave without knowing Jenny is ok. No one here knows about my gifts, I don’t have anywhere to go.” You were devastated. You wanted so badly to wake up from this nightmare.

“This is going to sound crazy, but you can stay with us until we find Jenny and figure all this out.” Sam gave you an awkward look, trying hard to not sound creepy. You looked at him and then back at Dean who gave you a little half smile, you weighed your options. You couldn’t stay here and you couldn’t go to your parents. You didn’t know why you trusted Sam so much, but you did. Everything about him seemed trustworthy, like you could fully rely on him.

“Yeah, ok.” You nodded and walked into your room and began throwing things into a bag. You were shaking and scared, everything you knew was crumpling around you. Your roommate and best friend was missing, a guy who terrified you was looking for you, and the only people you could trust were two strangers. They lead you back to their car and you all drove to the motel again, the ride was quiet and tense. Both boys offered for you to get your own room, but you really didn’t want to be alone. You took a top sheet off the bed and laid it over the couch, scattering it with your blankets in order to make your own bed. You then sat down on one of the beds and folded into yourself, feeling exposed and vulnerable in your new surroundings. Sam sat next to you and Dean across from you on the other bed.

“So, tell us about this Brandon guy. You said he is in one of your classes.” Dean leaned forward and focused his eyes on you.

“Yeah, he would sit near me a lot in class. He always kind of freaked me out, to be honest. Two days after the first girl went missing he asked me for a pen, nothing crazy. When our fingers touched I had a vision of him drugging my drink and sitting next to me on a couch. It’s really weird though because I would never hang out with him. Like I said, there was something I really didn’t like about him. The way he looked at me, like he was waiting for me almost. He followed me out of class and asked me to go with him, it was really weird and sudden. I said that I was busy and practically ran away from him. He seemed so evil, there was something swirling inside of him. This dark and hateful force that seeped out of every pore in his body. When he turned his head, I swear I…its stupid.” You let your voice trail off, knowing that it was a tiny and dumb detail.

“What is it? I’m sure we have heard crazier.” Sam smiled at you, asking you to tell them.

“Well, I thought I smelt sulfur.” You said, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders. Sam’s lips parted and a quiet expletive left his mouth. “What? What is it?” His reaction made you nervous.

“The smell of sulfur signifies a demon. Brandon is probably possessed by a demon.” Dean answered, straightening his back and looking right at you. Your brow furrowed and you let a small and shocked laugh out, looking between the two boys. Neither of their faces changed, you realized they were serious and your heart dropped to the floor. “Oh my god, you’re not kidding.” You closed your eyes and pressed your hands to your face, feeling the fear slide up your spine. A demon! How the hell were you going to save Jenny from a demon.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, this is a lot to take in.” Sam seemed genuinely sorry, like he would do anything to take you out of this situation.

“Thanks, yeah it is a lot to absorb. I just wanna help my friend.” You bit your lip and curled into yourself even further.

Dean ordered food and the three of you sat down at the table to eat. You were so upset that you really just moved your food around and asked them a series of questions about demons and what they might want. Both boys couldn’t come up with an answer. It didn’t make any sense to any of you, why would a demon go to a random college and start killing girls? What would they gain from that?

“So, what is our next step?” You asked, you found your eyes drifting to Sam again.

“Well, we have to find where he is keeping them, my guess is its not a dorm room.” Sam took a swig of beer, leaving a sheen over his lips. You nodded and narrowed your eyes in thought. Where would he be keeping them? Everywhere on campus was used and someone would hear if he was in an off campus apartment. You licked your bottom lip and let it catch between your teeth. Your eyes moved around and then you looked up. You had an idea.

“I think I might know a place.” You stood up, pacing. “This is an old college, like one of the first around. When tuberculosis hit they shut down the college and made it into an sanitarium for a while. When it became a college again, that sanitarium became the main dorm building. About ten years ago they renovated a lot of buildings, but they also abandoned some and built all new ones. I guess they were condemned unlivable because there was so much asbestos in them or something. Those buildings still exist and the main dorm building, the sanitarium is one of them that is completely abandoned.” You were talking with your hands, excitement at finding Jenny coursed through you. Dean and Sam didn’t say a word as they both stood up from the table, grabbing their jackets. You raced to the impala and Dean fishtailed out of the parking lot. You directed from the backseat to where the buildings were. You didn’t know how you were going to pull this off, there were cops all over campus and they frequently drove into this area, searching for people. Dean parked on the street a little bit away from the buildings and opened the trunk. Your eyes went wide with the array of weapons and random things within the trunk. Dean turned to you, giving you a hard look.

“What?” You said, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re not going in there.” His face was serious, eyes narrowed at you. You stared back with anger in your face, blood rushing to your cheeks. How could he tell you that you weren’t allowed in there? It was your roommate. Your best friend. Jenny meant a hell of a lot more to you than she did to him. It was your fault she was even caught up in this mess anyway.

“The hell I’m not. That’s my best friend in there! My best friend who was kidnapped by a demon because of me! Get out of my way Dean because I am going in there.” You tried to walk past him, but he grabbed your arm and spun you around to look at him again. Sam stepped forward and took his brothers hand off your arm gently. He faced you and let out a breath before speaking.

“Y/N, we have no idea what we are walking into here, we are just trying to keep you from getting hurt.” Sam said things more gently, his eyes were sincere and his shoulders were hunched slightly. You took large breaths into your lungs and tried to see where they were coming from. Just then a scream rung out through the dark, piercing the night sky. Your head turned and you took off towards the building. Sam and Dean were behind you, running with you, too caught up in everything to argue with you anymore. You all busted through the door and the scream sounded again, you immediately ran in the direction of the scream through large double doors. There was another scream from the other side of the building, you all turned and Sam and Dean took off. The doors in front of you slammed right behind Deans back. You were trapped. Trapped in an abandoned sanitarium. They all came out then. All the abandoned spirits in this abandoned building. You could hear Sam slamming his body against the door. Hear his screams laced with anger and fear. Your breathing became quick and your heart rate picked up. Sam’s screams were soon drowned out by the voices of all the others around you. Your whole body was covered in sweat and goosebumps. You covered your ears as the yelling got louder inside your head. You fell to your knees as your face contorted in pain. You let out a scream of your own. It felt like the walls were closing around you, your vision became blurry and your chest felt like it was on fire. Your lungs couldn’t pull in enough air anymore and you crumpled to the floor.

-------------------------------

Sam heard another scream at the end of the building and ran through the threshold of the doorway. He heard the door slam. He turned his head and saw that you were trapped behind the door. He rammed his whole body into the door repeatedly. Dean on the other side of him. He was calling your name, screaming for you to answer him. He heard your screams now too and his heart rate sky rocketed. His chest was rising and falling in large heavy breaths. Suddenly the door gave way and Sam almost lost his balance falling through. You were laying in the middle of the floor. You were bleeding from your nose and ears. Your hair was scattered around, covering your face slightly. Sam ran to you, there was something about you. He felt this connection to you deep within his bones. He could barely control himself around you. You were beautiful and smart. You charged in here without a fear in the world to save someone you cared about. He gathered you into his arms, your eyes fluttered open slightly and your face fell into one of shock and exhaustion. He pulled you tight against his chest, holding you bridal style as he made his way back to the car with you. He sat in the backseat with you, your back against his chest as Dean searched the rest of the building. Dean came out with nothing but a tape recorder. The only thing on it was a recording of the scream they had heard all night.

“What the hell is going on man?” Sam asked in a whisper, trying not to wake you.

“I don’t know, but we gotta take care of that girl.” Dean answered, nodding his head at you before he turned around and drove back to the motel. Sam placed you on the couch and pulled blankets around you. He got a washcloth, putting some warm water on it to clean up your bloody nose and ears. You stirred slightly and then sat up with a loud gasping breath filling your lungs. You grabbed your chest and closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself. Sam touched your shoulder, helping you gather yourself into the present.

“There were so many.” You said, your voice cracking with emotion.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked you, his kind eyes finding yours.

“Spirits. There were so many of them, I couldn’t sort them out. They were all screaming at me in my head. They are all there still there, none of them found rest.” You ran your hands through your hair and closed your eyes trying to breathe through your nose and calm down. Dean came over and sat next to his brother.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Sam gave you a little smile.

“I’m sorry too, Y/N, look we uh we found something. We found this tape recorder.” Dean pulled it out of his pocket and hit play. The scream sounded throughout the small motel room, making your ears ring. You jumped slightly and your skin began to crawl with realization.

“Oh my, God. It was a trap. He wanted me there.” You looked between the two of them. “I need a drink.” Your head fell forward slightly from the complexity of the whole thing.

“My kinda woman.” Dean stood and poured three glasses of whiskey. You took yours and sipped, crinkling your nose against the harsh burn.

“Now we know that we just have to be more careful moving ahead.” Sam nodded at you, his eyes searching your face.

You all drank for about an hour and then Dean passed out on the bed, falling into it face first. You took a shower and let the water relax your muscles and mind. Then you went out and sat on the couch with Sam for a while. You pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, making yourself small. Sam played with his glass, it looked ridiculously small in his large hands. The amber liquid swirled at the bottom as you stared at Sam’s side profile. He looked like there was something on his mind, something he wanted to talk about.

“Sam.” You spoke, he jumped a little and then looked at you with an open face.

“Yeah?” He was staring at you, there was an electric energy between the two of you and it was making your skin buzz.

“I feel like you want to ask me something.” You licked your bottom lip and let it catch between your teeth, raising one eyebrow.

“When did you know?” He asked you, his chest turning towards you, one leg coming up on the couch.

“I was six years old, it was the middle of the night and I got this tingle up my spine. The air felt heavy and thick around me, like it was charged with energy. I saw my breath and when I looked up, I saw a man. He looked weird though, pale and cold. He touched my shoulder and called me ‘button’. I screamed and my parents ran in my room. I told them what happened and they told me it was a bad dream, like most parents would. I was so little that I just went back to bed and didn’t think about it much more. A few days later, my mom was looking through photo albums when I saw him. I asked who it was and my mom told me it was my grandpa. I said that he was in my room the other night and that he called me button. My moms face fell and she started to cry. She grabbed my shoulders and was screaming asking me how I knew that he called her button. They still didn’t believe because why would they. I kept seeing people though and my parents could easily find their obituaries. Eventually, my mom took me to see a psychic and she told my mom that I had gifts. It was like that for a long time and then as I got older, I started to do research on my own. It was then that I found the term “psychic medium” and I knew that’s what I was.” You raised the glass to your lips and polished off the rest of your whiskey.

“That’s amazing.” He said with a small smile, his dimples showing on his handsome face. You looked up at him from under your lashes, amazed yourself. This was the first time that you had told anyone about your gifts, your story. You were astounded and shocked that Sam didn’t jump up and call you a freak before storming away. He trusted you and you him.

“What about yours?” You asked him, leaning forward slightly.

“Right, well about a year ago I started having these visions of my girlfriend dying. I freaked out and tried to ignore them as best I could, and then it happened. Jess, she died in a fire that I saw happen night after night. I didn’t know what to do and I hated myself, I couldn’t look at myself. It was all my fault. Then I started having these visions about these other people and how they were in danger. Or in some cases, how they were causing danger. I still don’t fully understand it and why it started when it did, but it has helped me save some people.” He was once again swirling the whiskey at the bottom of his glass, not looking at you.

“I have a feeling you have saved your share of people, Sam.” You smiled at him, looking into his hazel eyes.

“I wish it didn’t make me feel like such a freak. Or make Dean look at me like I’m such a freak.” Sam shook his head in frustration.

“Do you think I’m a freak?” You asked him, tilting your head towards him.

“What? No, of course not.” He looked astonished, like he couldn’t understand why you would ask him that.

“Then why would you be a freak?” You placed your hand on his, sending him a smile and a small chuckle. He looked at you, he looked relived and almost happy.

“I’m going to do whatever I can to help you find your friend.” Sam leaned forward, his fingers still intertwined in yours.

“I know, I’m psychic remember.” You were both smiling at each other now. You didn’t know this man, but you trusted him and that was literally all you had right now.

Tags: @that-one-gay-girl

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winchesterbrotherstan · 4 years

Text

Supernatural- Nightmare (1.14)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: When Sam starts seeing things, the siblings pack it up and move out. Olive is majorly excluded, Sam can’t keep his head on straight, and Dean goes into big-brother mode.

Warnings: cursing, guns, a knife, blood, etc

Word Count: 4893

“Olive. Dean.” Something grabbed my feet and I jumped awake, kicking away as hard as I could.

I sat up, cowering in the corner. I gripped Dean’s arm, shaking. Sam was at the edge of the bed, cupping his jaw with a pained look on his face. Dean sat up with a yawn and looked at me, pulling me into his side.

“What are you two doing? It’s the middle of the night.”

“We have to go.” Sam hissed, rubbing his jaw and squinting at me.

“What is happening?” I asked, looking to Dean.

“We have to go. Right now.” Sam pulled a pair of jeans on, grabbed his bag, and walked out the door.

Dean and I looked at each other again, and we both yawned at the same time, blinking afterwards.

“Is he okay?”

Dean shrugged as he rubbed his face. I rubbed my eyes, yawning again.

“Guys. Now!” Sam popped his head back into the door.

I sighed, cringing when I felt something flutter against my lip. I pulled at it, seeing one of Dean’s hairs in my grip.

“Ew. You need better shampoo.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he stood, getting dressed. “Your hair ends up in my socks when we sleep, so shut it.”

I sighed as I stumbled out of the bed, pulling on socks and grabbing Dean’s black hoodie. I swung at him with the left-over ends of the sleeves, and he flicked my forehead.

“Let’s go.”

I pulled my bag over my shoulder and pocketed my phone. Dean sat to tie his shoes. I sniffed, trying hard not to yawn again.

“Can you bring my shoes?” I asked, picking the keys out of his pocket.

He side-eyed me, but nodded anyways. I kissed the top of his head before walking out the door barefoot, grinning at Sam.

***

“McReady. Detective McReady. Badge number 158.” Sam spoke into the phone, still rubbing at his jaw.

I yawned and leaned closer to Dean, tired. Dean chuckled.

“Man, you really got him hard.”

I shrugged. “Well that’s what he gets for grabbing my feet to wake me up.”

“Yeah, okay, just hurry.” Sam snapped into the phone.

“Sammy, relax.” Dean huffed.

“Bubs, I’m sure it was just a nightmare.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Sam sighed.

“She means it, Sam. Y’know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class nightmare. The plates won’t check out. You’ll see.” Dean spoke, eyes on the road.

“It felt different, Dean.” Sam shook his head. “Like when I dreamt about our old house… and Jessica.”

“Yeah Sam, that makes sense. You dreaming about your house, about Jess. But this guy in your dream, have you ever seen him before?” I asked.

Sam shook his head, mumbling a no.

“No. Exactly.” Dean gestured. “Why would you have premonitions about a random dude in Michigan?”

Sam sighed. “I dunno.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Yes, I’m here.” Sam’s attention snapped back to the phone.

He glared at Dean as he pulled out a pen. “Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You got a street address? Thanks.” He hung up with a huff. “Checks out. How far are we?”

Dean looked at him like he was crazy. “From Saginaw? Couple hours.”

“Drive faster.”

***

Dean pumped the brakes as we came onto the road, seeing the flashing of emergency vehicles as a stretcher with a body bag was rolled out of the house. Dean, concerned, turned to Sam, who was upset. I sighed as I sunk into my seat between the two.

***

“What happened?” Dean asked a woman as we slipped into the crowd of people watching.

“Suicide.” The woman shook her head. “Can’t believe it.”

“Did you know them?” Sam asked from her other side.

“Saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine’s. He always seems… seemed so normal. I guess you never know what’s going on behind closed doors.”

Dean stared right at the house. “Guess not.”

Sam asked the woman something, but I only focused on Dean, who was staring straight ahead with an angry look on his face. He was concentrating, but his eyebrows were furrowed too close together to be calm. Something was upsetting him, he just didn’t know what it was.

“Oh, it just happened about an hour or two ago. His poor family, I can’t even imagine what they’re going through.” She stared at the family on the porch.

A woman stood on the front step of the house, crying into the arms of a middle-aged man. A boy my age stood behind them, looking distressed. Sam grimaced before walking away. I grabbed Dean’s arm and tugged on it, pulling him to follow Sam back to the car.

I leaned against it, inching closer to Sam.

“Sammy, we got here as fast as we could.”

Sam shook his head. “Not fast enough. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn’t a chance I could stop them from happening?” He stuck his hands in his pockets with a groan.

“I dunno.” Dean shrugged.

Sam shook his head again, this time sighing. “So what do you think killed him?”

Dean and I looked at each other and I grimaced as we turned back to Sam.

“Maybe the guy just… killed himself? Maybe there’s nothing supernatural going on at all.”

“No, I’m telling you. I watched it happen. He was murdered by something, guys. I watched it trap him in the garage.”

“Then what, Sam? What was it, a spirit, poltergeist, what?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Olive! I don’t know why the hell I’m having these dreams. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, guys.” Sam scoffed.

I sighed, and Sam stared at Dean.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just… I’m worried about you, man.”

“Well don’t look at me like that!” Sam hissed.

Dean looked down. “I’m not looking at you like anything.” He took a glance back. “Though I gotta say, you do look like crap.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“Come on.” Dean stood, stretching and cracking his back. “Let’s just pick this up in the morning. We’ll check out the house, talk to the family.”

“Dean, you saw them. They’re devastated. They’re not gonna wanna talk to us.”

Dean pouted, thinking. “Yeah, you’re right.” He glanced down at me, a devilish grin on his face.

I giggled. “We know who they will talk to.”

Sam groaned. “Oh God, what are you getting us into now?”

***

“This has got to be a whole new low for us.” Sam groaned as Dean put the car in park.

I grinned. “I think you guys look adorable.”

Dean chuckled as Sam glared at me. “You two are gonna pay for this.”

I shrugged. “We’re already going to hell anyways, might as well have fun with it.”

Dean laughed before leaning in to kiss the top of my head. “Alright. We’ll be back. Stay in the car, don’t talk to anybody.”

“Love you, be safe.”

“Always, sweetie.”

“Love you too, bug.” Sam kissed my forehead before climbing out of the car.

I watched as my big brothers, dressed like priests, went up to the door and rang the bell. I sighed and leaned back into the seat. This was going to take a while.

***

I shook my hair out as I came out of the bathroom. Sam was sinking onto his bed, and Dean was cleaning his gun.

“No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property.”

“Hey man, I told you. I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent. Nada.” Dean huffed.

“Family said everything was normal?” I tossed the towel over one of the chairs before sitting next to Sam on the bed.

“Hey, beanie.” Dean smiled at me. “If there was a demon or poltergeist, you’d think somebody would’ve noticed something. I used the infrared thermal scanner. There was nothing.” Dean shook his head.

“So what, you guys think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sort of freak coincidence?” Sam asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

“I dunno.”

“I’m just sure there’s nothing supernatural about that house.” Dean put his gun back together.

“Yeah…” Sam sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house.

“Maybe it’s just…” He grunted. “Gosh…” He put a hand to his forehead. “Maybe it’s connected to Jim some other way?”

Dean and I looked at each other, and I leaned forward to feel Sam’s forehead. It was boiling. He groaned as he sunk from the bed to the floor. Dean came running.

“Sam? Hey. Hey! What’s going on? Talk to me.” Dean grabbed his arms.

I ran to the bathroom and soaked a hand towel in cold water, coming back and placing it over Sam’s forehead. He threw his head back against the bed and looked at Dean.

“It’s happening again. Something’s gonna kill Roger Miller.”

Dean and I looked at each other once more, concern on our faces. I sighed before wrapping my arms around Sam and leaning my head against his.

***

“Roger Miller.” Sam spoke into the phone, softly. “Ah, no, no.” He groaned, clutching his hand. “Just the address please. Okay. Thanks.” He flipped the phone shut and turned to Dean.

“450 West Grove, Apartment 1120.”

“Are you okay?” I turned to him, only to get a nod in response.

“If you’re gonna hurl, I’ll pull over the car… ya know, the upholstery.”

“I’m fine.” Sam closed his eyes and sunk back into the seat, antsy. “Just drive.”

Dean and I glanced at each other with sad eyes. Sam sighed heavily.

“Guys, I’m scared. These nightmares were bad enough, now I’m seeing things when I’m awake?” He gripped at his hair again. “And these, visions, or whatever. They’re getting more intense.” He hissed.

“And painful.” I noted, reaching up to brush my fingers through his hair.

“Come on man, you’ll be alright.” Dean sighed, hands tightening around the wheel. “It’ll be fine.”

“What is it about the Millers?” Sam asked, rubbing his forehead. “Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die?” He groaned. “Why the hell is this happening to me?”

“Sammy, I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. We’ve faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing.”

“No!” Sam scoffed. “It’s never been us. It’s never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, guys. You can’t tell me this doesn’t freak you out.”

Dean looked over and shrugged. “This doesn’t freak me out.”

Sam stared at him, then at me with a glare. I shrunk into the seat.

“Doesn’t freak me out either.”

***

“Hey, Roger!” Sam put his head out the window.

He was walking up to his apartment, arms full of grocery bags. “What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me the hell alone.”

“Roger, please!” I pushed past Sam.

Roger kept walking, disappearing into the building.

“Grab her.” Dean ordered Sam, who did so without question.

Sam wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest as Dean gunned it, jumping over the curb and putting the car in park.

“Hey. Roger! We’re trying to help!” Sam pushed me away and got out of the car, running after him. “Please! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!”

“I don’t want your help.” Roger slammed the door in Sam’s face.

“We’re not priests, you gotta listen to us!” Sam called, hitting the door.

“Stay in here.” Dean growled as he climbed out of the car. “Roger, you’re in danger!” “Come on. Come on, come on!” Dean grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged him to the side of the building.

***

“What happened in there?” I asked, sitting criss-cross on the bed.

“There was nothing in there. No signs either, just like the Miller’s house.”

“Dean, what happened?” I grabbed him by the sleeve, tugging him my way.

“I saw something in the vision. Like a dark shape. Something was… something was stalking Roger.” Sam hissed.

“Boys!” I stood up, angry.

Sam sighed and Dean growled. “Something cut his head off, Ol.”

“What?” I stumbled back to sit.

“Windowsill. Window shut. Head gone.” Dean slammed his hands together.

I scoffed. “Whatever the hell was there, are you sure it’s not connected to their house?” I asked Sam.

He shook his head. “No, it’s connected to the family themselves.”

“So what, like a vengeful spirit?”

“Well yeah…” Dean sighed, dropping onto the bed next to me. “There’s a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow them for years.”

“Angaik.” Sam shrugged. “Banshees.”

“Basically like a curse. So maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy. Something curse worthy.”

“And now that something is out for revenge.” Sam sighed. “And the men in their family are dying.”

I nodded, and Dean sighed.

Hey. Do you think Max is in danger?” Sam asked, eyes wide.

Dean shook his head. “Let’s figure it out before he is.”

“Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people.”

“What’s that?” I asked, leaning into Dean with a huff.

“Both our families are cursed.” Sam snorted.

Dean stiffened, angry. “Our family’s not cursed! We just…” He looked down at me and slung an arm around me, brushing my hair back. “Had our dark spots.”

Sam chuckled. “Our dark spots are… pretty dark.”

Dean and I looked at each other, and I broke into a small smile as I turned back to Sam. “You’re dark.”

Sam stuck his tongue out at me, and I laughed.

***

“No family’s totally normal and happy. See when he was talking about his old house?” Dean asked as he walked down the driveway to Baby.

“He sounded scared.” Sam nodded, sighing.

“Yeah. Max isn’t telling us everything.” Dean tsked.

“I say!” I popped to my feet with a grin. “We find the old neighborhood! Find out what life was really like for the Millers.”

Dean looked at me with pride on his face, and Sam shook his head.

“Let’s go, beanie.”

***

“Have you lived in the neighborhood for very long?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, almost twenty years now. It’s nice and quiet.” The man nodded. “Why, you looking to buy?” He looked at the boys, then down at me with a large smile.

“No, no, actually. We were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live… right across the street I believe.”

“Uh, the Millers. They had a… little boy named Max.” I tilted my head.

“Right, right, yeah.” Dean nodded.

“Yeah, I remember. The brother had the place next door. So uh, what’s this about? Is that poor kid okay?”

Sam and I looked at each other, and Dean tilted his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well in my life, I’ve never seen a child treated like that. I mean, I’d hear Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street. He was a mean dunk. He used to beat the tar out of Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of.” The man scowled.

“Would this happen regularly?”

“Practically every day. In fact, that thud brother of his was just as likely to swing at the boy. The worst part was the stepmother.” The man shook his head. “She’d just stand there, checked out. Not lifting a finger to protect him. I must’ve called the police seven or eight times.” He sighed. “Never did any good.”

Dean flinched. “Now you said step-mother.”

He nodded again. “I think his real mother died. Some sort of… accident. Car accident I think.”

Sam held back a grunt as he grabbed his head, a grimace on his face. I immediately went for his arm, holding him.

“You okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” Sam winced.

“Oh, Sams.” I whispered, letting him crumble into my side.

“Thank you for your time.” Dean grabbed Sam by the other arm, helping me to hold him up.

“God.” Sam grunted, and his eyes began to roll into the back of his head.

Dean shouldered his weight, and I smiled at the man as I helped him pull Sam along.

“Is he gonna be alright?”

I nodded, and Dean stumbled over words.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Just has really bad migraines.” I wedged my shoulder against Sam’s ribs and hooked an arm around his waist.

***

“Max is doing it.” Sam gasped from the backseat of the car. “Everything I’ve been seeing.” He forced himself to sit up, and Dean slammed on the brakes

“You sure about this?” I turned around to face him, one boot on the seat.

“Yeah. I saw him.” Sam nodded.

“How’s he pulling it off?” I asked, twisting around entirely, patting Dean’s shoulder. “Keep driving.”

“I don’t know… like… telekinesis?”

“What, so he’s psychic?” Dean asked, slamming the gas again.

“The fuck is he, a spoon bender?” I asked. “Like that bald kid from the Matrix?”

Sam rolled his eyes with another groan.”I didn’t even realize it but the whole time, he was there.” He shook his head, sitting up further and leaning against the front seat. “He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his uncle died. These visions, this whole time!” He sighed. “I wasn’t connected to the Millers, I was connected to Max.” He pushed his head against my arm with another groan. “I don’t get why, man. I guess… because we’re so much alike?”

“What the hell are you talking about? The dude’s nothing like you.”

“Well, we both have psychic abilities, we both-”

“Both what?” I asked, eyebrows furrowed as I pushed a hand through his hair.

“Sam, Max is a monster. He’s already killed two people, now he’s gunning for a third.” Dean scowled, glaring at Sam in the rearview mirror.

“Well with what he went through? The beatings? To want revenge on those people? I’m sorry man, but I hate to say it. It’s not that insane.” Sam scoffed.

“Wha-”

“It doesn’t justify murdering your entire family!”

“De…” I warned, a hand on his shoulder.

He scowled as he pulled over at Max’s house. “He’s no different from anything else we’ve hunted, alright? We gotta end him.”

“We are not going to kill Max.”

“Then what? Dean turned this time, arm over the back of the seat. “Hand him over to the cops and say ‘lock him up office, he kills with the power of his mind.”

“No way. Forget it.” Sam shook his head.

“Sam.” I pulled the keys with a sigh.

“Guys! He’s a person. We can talk to him. Promise me you’ll follow my lead on this one.” Sam begged.

I sighed and Dean shook his head, reluctantly.

“Alright, fine.” I nodded.

“But I’m not letting him hurt anybody else.” Dean pushed me aside, reaching to grab his handgun from the glovebox.

He turned to glare at Sam once more before storming out of the car.

***

“That’s right! You didn’t do anything! You didn’t stop them, not once!” Max shouted through the door, and I looked at Sam with a sigh.

Dean forced the door open.

“Fathers? Uh?” Miss Miller looked at me, confused.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ah, sorry to interrupt.” Dean smiled. “This is Olive, my kid sister.”

Before Miss Miller could ask anything about me, Sam started.

“Max, can we uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?”

“About what?” Max furrowed his eyebrows, suspicious.

“It’s… it’s private. I wouldn’t wanna bother your mother with it.” Sam turned to Miss Miller. “We won’t be long, I promise.”

“Okay.” Max sighed.

“Great.” Sam forced a calming smile as we turned for the door.

Dean smiled at Max as he grabbed the door handle. The knob pulled itself out of Dean’s hand and the door slammed shut, the blinds drawn all at once.

“You’re not priests!” Max shouted, and Dean yanked the gun out, but it flew out of his hands and across the floor to Max.

He picked it up and held it on us. Dean grabbed me by the waist and pushed me straight behind him, shoulders squared.

“Max, what’s happening?” Miss Miller asked.

“Shut up.” He growled.

“What are you doing?”

Max flinched, and Miss Miller went flying backwards. Her head hit the kitchen bench, and she fell to the ground, out cold.

“I said shut up.”

“Max, calm down.”

“Who are you?”

“We just wanna talk.” I spoke up, trying to peak over Dean’s shoulder.

“Yeah right, that’s why you bought this!” Max growled.

Dean grabbed me by the wrist and jerked me back down behind him.

“That was a mistake, alright? So was lying about who we were? But no more lying, Max? Okay? Just please, hear me out.”

“About what?”

“I saw you do it. Okay, I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened.” Sam sighed, hands up.

“What?”

“I’m having visions, Max. About you.” Sam spoke softly.

Max shook his head, frantically. “You’re crazy.”

“So what. You weren’t just about to launch a knife at your stepmom?” Sam tapped his eye. “Right here. Is it that hard to believe, Max? Look what you can do.” He tried to reason. “I was drawn here, alright? I think I’m here to help you.”

Max began to sob. “No one can help me.”

“Let me try. We’ll talk, me and you. We can get Olive, Dean, and Alice out of here.”

“No. No way.” Dean hissed, and I dug my fingers into the crevice of his shoulder as the chandelier began to shake violently.

“Nobody leaves this house!”

“And nobody has to, alright?” Sam got a little frantic, hands out. “They’ll just… they’ll just go upstairs.”

“Sam, I’m not leaving you alone with him.” Dean growled.

I sunk my fingers further into his skin, and he flinched as Sam turned to face him.

“Yes you are. Look, Max. You’re in charge here, alright. We all know that. Nobody’s going to do anything that you don’t want you to do but I’m talking five minutes here, man.” Sam begged.

“Sams. Bubs.” I whispered.

“Five minutes?” Max asked, staring back at his stepmother, then glared at Dean. “Go.”

Dean sighed, and I pushed my fingers until he took my hand away, keeping me behind him as we inched toward Miss Miller, who was still out on the floor.

***

I paced, hating the creak of the floorboards under my boots. Sam was alone with Max, and I did not like it. Dean was ansty too, but he had tried to focus more on getting Miss Miller back to consciousness. He was by her side, cleaning her head off with a wet towel.

The door busted open, the frame splintering. Dean was up in an instant, and I met him halfway, ducking behind him to yank out a knife. The gun was pointed at Miss Miller, and Dean squared his shoulders. Protective, angry, putting himself in harm’s way, ready to die for someone who didn’t deserve his grace.

“Stay back. This isn’t about you.” Max warned him.

“If you’re gonna kill her you’ve gotta go through me first.”

“Okay.” Max turned the gun.

“No!” Sam busted the door open. “Don’t! Please. Please, Max. Max, we can help you. Alright, but this, this, what you’re doing, it’s not the solution! It’s not gonna fix anything.”

I gripped the knife in my hand so hard that my hand split open. I hissed, feeling rage in my bones. I watched as Max began to sob with a smile on his face, pushing the gun toward Sam’s head, safety clicking off. Dean moved, but I moved faster.

I swung my arm, and the knife flew on its own. The thud was wet and heavy, and I winced, feeling my chest clench. The gun dropped at Sam’s feet and I let out a sob, crashing into Dean as Max’s body hit the ground.

Knife against skin, blade striking through bone, blood down front, eyes dead.

My fault.

“Olive.”

I groan, and everything in my stomach comes back up. Vomiting on the floor, splashing onto Dean’s shoes. Feeling light-headed, sick, empty, yet full of something bad.

“You’re okay, baby girl.” Dean grabs me by the middle, pulling me into his chest, off my feet, trying to keep me breathing.

“Kiddo. Kiddo, come here.” Sam takes me from him, sets me against his shoulder, holds the back of my head as I let out a scream.

***

“Max attacked me.” Miss Miller sat on the couch, next to Sam. “He threatened me with a gun.”

I was leaning against Dean, breathing steadily.

“And these three?” The cop looked at us.

“They’re family friends.” She sighed. “I called them as soon as Max arrived. I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun.”

“And where did Max get the gun?”

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, and Dean pulled me further into his side. Miss Miller looked up at the ceiling and began to cry.

“I don’t know. He showed up with it, and…” She sobbed again, crumbling into her own hands.

“It’s alright, Miss Miller.”

“I’ve lost everyone!” She let out a strangled cry.

The cop turned to us. “We’ll give you a call if we have any further questions.”

“Thank you, officer.” Dean nodded, pulling me to my feet and grabbing Sam. “Come on.”

***

The knife, shoved in the back of the Impala. Gun gone, an entire lie constructed, Dean and Sam hovering me.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” I shook.

“Don’t do this.” Dean wrapped an arm around me.

“What?” I asked, shaking harder.

“Torture yourself.” He whispered. “You did what you had to do.”

I hadn’t thought about it. I did it, without a question. It just happened. I sighed.

A predator in an alley, a shapeshifter wearing Dean’s face, the salt and burn of a serial killer, a crazy doctor, an insane drive through ice and wet roads.

Now a human. A boy named Max.

It might top the thing that was previously worst.

Trying to kill the woman in Nebraska.

Yes. This was worse. I did this as myself. I did this with a clear mind. Max Miller’s blood was most definitely on my hands.

“Let’s go home.”

***

“I’ve been thinking.” Sam started.

“Well, that’s never good.” Dean snorted, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dude, I’m serious. I’ve been thinking… this demon, whatever it is. Why would it kill Mom? Why Jessica, why Max’s mother, you know? What does it want?”

“I have no idea.” Dean shrugged.

“Well, you think, maybe… it was after us? After Max? After me?”

“I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions. We both had abilities, you know… maybe he was… he was after us for a reason?”

“Sam. If it had wanted you, it would’ve just taken you. Okay? This is not your fault, it’s not about you.”

“Then what is it about, Dean?”

“It’s about the thing that did this to your family.” I sighed, hands in my head. “The thing that we’re gonna find, the thing that we’re gonna kill. And that’s all.” I huffed.

“Actually, there’s uh… there’s something else too.” Sam sighed.

“What?” Dean asked, looking down at me with a sigh.

“Max left me in a closet, with a big cabinet against the door, and I… I moved it.”

“Huh.” Dean huffed with a laugh. “You got a little more upper body strength than I gave you credit for.”

“No, man. I moved it. Like… Like, Max.”

“Oh.” Dean paused.

“Right.”

I got to my feet and rummaged through the kitchen drawers. I fished out a spoon and shuffled back to Sam with a sigh.

“Bend this.”

Sam smacked the spoon away with a roll of his eyes. “I can’t just turn it on and off, Ol.”

Dean tilted his head. “How’d you do it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t control it. I just… I saw you two die and it just came out of me, like a, like a punch. You know like, a… a freak adrenaline thing.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure it won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, maybe. Aren’t you worried, man? Aren’t you worried I could turn into Max or something?”

“Nope.”

“Dean… maybe Sam’s right. I mean… I did just-”

“No way. Wanna know why I know?”

Sam and I glanced at each other, hesitant.

“Cause you two have one advantage Max didn’t have.”

“Dad? Because dad isn’t here, Dean.”

“No, not dad.” Dean grinned. “Me. As long as I’m around, nothing bad is going to happen to either of you.”

Sam gave him puppy eyes and I flashed the same grin back at him.

“Now.” Dean grabbed his back and slung it over his shoulder. “I know what we need to do about your premonitions.” Dean grinned. “I know where we have to go.”

“Where?” Sam asked.

Dean’s face set into a serious look. “Vegas.”

Sam tilted his head, looked away, and then back to Dean with a bitchface. He got up and walked out the door.

I laughed as Dean grinned.

“What? Come on, man! Craps tables! We’d clean up!” He got up to follow Sam out the door as I skipped past him, finding Sam leaning against the car with his arms crossed across his chest.

I sighed, and Dean came up behind me, hands on my shoulders.

“Let’s go, sweetpea.”

Previous Ep: Route 666 (1.13)

Next Up: Sammy the Birthday Moose

Next Ep: The Benders (1.15)

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eleventhdoctorsangel · 4 years

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And I will pick you up when your whole world shatters

Summary: The night of the particle accelerator exploding changed my life forever. I was one the lucky if you want to call it that people who got powers from that night. That was four years ago. Since then I joined team flash to help keep the city safe. But since Barry went into the speed force to save us all it has been more difficult to keep the city safe. The speed force had just released Barry and created new meta’s. Now we have to find them all.

I was helping Caitlin with creating the serum to help Ralph not be all stretchy any more. “Y/n will you go check Ralphs vitals?” Caitlin asked. “Yeah sure.” I said nodding. I got up from my seat walking out of the lap to go check on Ralph. When I walked back in the room where we were keeping in that when I noticed that someone had propped his stretched out limbs up. I went up to the monitor and started to write down the updates so I can give to Caitlin. “So what is a girl like you doing in place like this?” Ralph asked. I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Well like you I also have powers. But mine came from the night that the particle accelerator exploded.” I said. “I’m guessing that it didn’t do this to you.” Ralph said as he motioned to himself with his good hand. “No it didn’t. At first it took a while to control my powers.” I said. “So what is your power anyways?” Ralph asked. I raised up my hand motioning my fingers as I watched the red energy come out from it. “That’s very cool.” Ralph said. “I’m just like scarlet witch.” I said. “So can I call you witchy?” Ralph asked. “Sure. I need to back to helping Caitlin.” I said smiling and walking out of the room to giving Caitlin the update on Ralph and by that time Barry and Iris were back. Iris was putting a brush in a bag handing it over to Caitlin. “And that’s what it feels like to vibrate through solid matter.” Iris said. “I’m just glad you two were hurt.” Caitlin said. “What did I miss?” I asked walking in to the room handing over the updates to Caitlin. “Someone planted a bomb in Ralph’s office.” Iris said. “No thanks to your new buddy in there.” Barry said taking off his jacket. “He’s not my buddy. He’s my patient.” Caitlin said. “Caitlin I just don’t understand why you’re defending him.” Barry said. “Because I know what it’s like to suddenly find yourself with extraordinary powers and be totally freaked out by it. And so do you for that matter. You and I both woke up in this lab once knowing that our lives would never be the same. So how about you give the guy a little sympathy?” Caitlin said. “Hey. I pulled the LUDS on Dibny’s phone. There were 15 phone calls between him and the Mayor’s office.” Joe said as he walked in. “What is Mayor Bellows doing talking to Ralph Dibny?” Iris asked. Barry let out a scoff that he burst into the room where Ralph is. I let out a sigh as I continued to help Caitlin.

After a few more hours we were finally done. “Well that took longer than I thought.” I said getting up from my chair stretched out my legs. “Come on and let’s go fix Ralph.” Caitlin said. I nodded and we made our way into the room. Ralph looked at us as soon as we walked in. “I farted. I’m not sure everything’s still where it’s supposed to be down there.” Ralph said. “Drink this.” Caitlin said showing Ralph the beaker that had what was going to fix him in it. “What is it? I don’t just drink stuff. My body is a temple.” Ralph asked. I let out a small laugh. “Clearly. Drink it.” Caitlin said. “I wanna know what it is.” Ralph said. “It’s 17% alcohol.” I said. “You two should have lead with that sisters.” Ralph said taking the beaker from Caitlin hand and drank it. As he did he made a face of disgust. “What was that?” Ralph asked. “It’s a serum of sulfur, zinc oxide, and steric acid to cross link your polymerized cells.” Caitlin said. “I tried to convince Caitlin to make it into a mixed drink to taste better but she said no.” I said. “In English.” Ralph said. “It’s going to fix you.” Caitlin said. Ralph let out a groan and his stretched out limbs returned to normal. “You did it. I’m cured.” Ralph said setting up looking happy. “Well not cured. All I did was introduce a stabilizing enzyme to reset your body to default shape through vulcanization.” Caitlin said. Ralph gave this look like he had no idea what she was talking about. “It’s like muscle memory.” Caitlin said. “Muscle memory huh? How far back memory you think?” Ralph said getting up from the bed. “I don’t know. Uh think about the shape you want to be and just be it.” Caitlin said. Ralph lifted his shirt and his gut turned into abs. “I’m back. I look like a Hemsworth.” Ralph said. “Chris, Liam, or Luke?” I asked. “Wait there’s three?” Ralph asked. “Yeah you didn’t know that?” I asked. “Is he as hot as Chris and Liam?” Ralph asked. “He’s ok looking a guess the Hemsworth brothers are not really my cup of tea.” I said. “What come on they are smoking.” Ralph said. “She prefers Tom Hiddleston.” Caitlin said. “Really Loki come on you can’t be serious witchy.” Ralph said. “Witchy?” Caitlin asked. “I showed Ralph my powers and told him how I’m basically like scarlet witch. He asked me if he could call me witchy.” I said. “Ah.” Caitlin said. “But Loki really come on he is evil.” Ralph said. “Oh don’t get her started.” Caitlin said. “He is not evil. He was lied to all of his life. Odin made him think that he had somewhat of a chance to rule Asgard only the pull the it out from under him to let Thor have the crown. All Thor cared about was fighting and trying to start a war. Yes Thor still changed but he still didn’t care about it. Loki did. He was a far better choice to be king. It didn’t help that Thanos sent him to do his dirty work knowing that he would take over earth if Loki succeed.” I said. “I told you. She very defensive of Loki.” Caitlin said.

Ralph stayed at STAR labs for a little while longer. We talked to whole time. Ralph left the room and joined the rest of us. Caitlin checked his vitals one more time before he left. “Your vitals are fantastic.” Caitlin said. That when I saw Joe and Barry walked back in. “Yeah.” Ralph said. “You’re blackmailing the mayor?” Barry asked as he walked towards Ralph. “Classic Barry Allen. Enters room and accuses wildly.” Ralph said. “We know about the photos Ralph.” Joe said. “Bellows told us everything.” Barry said. “Hey. I’m not the one who told him to step out on his wife.” Ralph said. “That’s your defense? It’s his fault that you’re extorting him?” Barry said. “Isn’t that a little easy for you to say? Your fancy lab, your good job, and your hot girlfriend? People like me are just trying to get from one bill to the next. And I wouldn’t have to be living like that if you haven’t cost me my job.” Ralph said as he took off the blood pressure cuff off and went to grab his suit jacket. “You got yourself fired. You tampered with evidence. You framed that guy.” Barry said. “Because he was guilty. And he was gonna get away with killing his wife and then you let him go. I was a good cop. I was a good detective. I lost everything. Mayor’s got plenty of money. He can afford to spare a little. Consider it the pension you cost me.” Ralph said. “Good people don’t destroy lives and call it noble. You were dirty then. You’re dirty now. Live with that.” Barry said. Ralph tried to walk pass Barry but Barry grabbed his arm. “You’re not going anywhere.” Barry said. “Get off me.” Ralph said and threw a punch at Barry. Barry ducked at throw a punch at Ralph only to get his fist stuck in Ralph’s face. “Are you kidding me.” Ralph said but it came out as muffled. Barry managed to get his fist unstuck from Ralph’s face. “Thanks for ruining my life twice Allen.” Ralph said and left.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glare at Barry. “Come y/n you can’t possibly believe him.” Barry said. “What if I do Barry in case you forgot I can read people minds. If Ralph was lying or keeping anything else about what happened I would have known.” I said. “I can’t believe that you believe him.” Barry said. “I can’t believe you Barry.” I said and left. I went to go try find Ralph to talk to him but I wasn’t having any luck. I was about to give up and go back to my apartment when my phone with off the ringtone I set for Barry. I let out a sigh as I answered it. “What do you want Barry?” I asked. “Y/n how close to city hall are you?” Barry asked. “A few blocks why.” I said. “Get there Joe and I will be there.” Barry said and hung up. I put my phone back in my pocket and ran the rest of the way to city hall. Joe was already outside of the building waiting on me. “Joe what’s going on?” I asked. “It’s Ralph. He’s meeting with the mayor and we need to help him.” Joe said as he opened the door as we both went in and made our way to the back to help Barry. As soon as Joe opened the door leading to the back I saw the mayor running towards us holding a gun. “Get in there Joe the girl too. You’re both coming with me.” Mayor Bellows said. “Flash!” Joe yelled. We were lead to the roof top where a helicopter was waiting. “Get on both of you.” Mayor Bellows said pointing the gun into my back. “There is no need to be pointing the gun at her.” Joe said. “Shut up get in the helicopter both you.” Mayor Bellows said. “It’s ok Joe.” I said. We both got on the helicopter I was about to sit next to Joe when mayor bellows grabbed me forcing me to sit next to him as he pointed the gun at my head. We took off quickly and all I was thinking of is how Barry was going to save us. I felt a sudden tug. I grabbed on to something so I didn’t fall. “What the hell!.” Mayor Bellows said. I saw a streak of lighting and then Barry was in the helicopter with us and holding the gun. “Cecile’s pregnant.” Joe said. “Oh my god Joe that’s amazing.” I said. “How did you get up here?” Joe asked. “Ralph he stretched his arm so that I could save the two of you.” Barry said. “See he’s not all that bad.” I said. “I mentioned you y/n and he did it.” Barry said. “So what Barry incase you forgot I was one of the only ones who was nice to him.” I said. The helicopter landed and Barry took the mayor to jail. “Congratulations Joe.” I said and hugged him. “Thank you sweetie.” Joe said and hugged me back. “Have you told Iris yet?” I asked. “No not yet. I will when we get back to the lab.” Joe said. Barry came back and joined us. “Congratulations Joe.” Barry said and hugged him. “Thanks son.” Joe said hugging him back. “Who all knows?” Barry asked. “Right now just the two of you. I plan to tell Iris when we get back to lab.” Joe said. “Well let’s not keep her waiting.” Barry said. Joe nodded and we got off of the roof top and headed back to the lab. Joe grabbed a box of cigars on the way back to the lab. Once we got back Iris was doing something on the computer. We walked to other side of the computer and Joe sat the box on top of the counter opening it. Iris gave him a weird look. “Cecile’s pregnant.” Joe said. “Shut up!” Iris said. Iris quickly got up and ran to give Joe a hug. “What’s going on here?” Caitlin said as she walked into the room. “Cecile’s pregnant.” Joe said as he handed her a cigar. “Joe that’s great.” Caitlin said giving him a hug. I watched as everyone danced. Then we all hugged. I started to get ready to go back home but Barry stopped me. “Do you want to help me with something?” Barry asked. “Depends.” I said. “I was going to go fix up Ralph’s office and I know that you would be more helpful with your powers along with my speed.” Barry said. “Sure I got nothing better to do tonight.” I said. “Come on.” Barry said as he grabbed me by my shoulder and ran to Ralph’s office and it was bad. “Wow Mayor Bellow’s men really did a number on this place.” I said. “Let get this done before Ralph comes back.” Barry said. I nodded and we got to work. Thirty minutes later we finished. “Do you want to wait for ralph with me or do you want me to run you home real quick?” Barry asked. “I don’t mind waiting.” I said. Barry nodded and went to seat in an arm chair and I sat on one of the arm rest as we waited on Ralph to show up. We waited in the dark because we thought it would be more fun. We heard to door open and closed as Ralph let out sigh. “We fixed up your office.” Barry said turning on a lamp scaring Ralph. “Sweet fancy Moses.” Ralph said. I let out as laugh as Ralph turned to look at us. “Thanks for screwing up my insurance claim. No payout no mayor money. I gotta pick up a case soon.” Ralph said. “What if I had a job for you?” Barry said. “I wanna laugh really hard right now but I’m afraid my face ill fall off again.” Ralph said. “I can’t change what has happened between us in the past but I can offer you a chance to change what happens in our future.” Barry said. “How?” Ralph asked. “Let my team and I study your powers figure out how to improve them see what your limitations are. And let me train you.” Barry said. “Train me? For what?” Ralph asked. “To do what I do. To be a detective again Ralph. A real one. Like it’s not gonna be easy. I’m gonna push you t your limit. I think it’s safe to say some days you’re gonna hate me.” Barry said. “Allen it’s safe to say that I always hate you. Do I get a cool super hero name?” Ralph asked. “What do you think about plastic man?” Barry asked as he got up from the arm chair. “That’s an awful name.” I said. “I agree with her. I think that’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard of.” Ralph said. “Yeah Cisco or Y/n comes up with the names.” Barry said. “It’s better that way.” Ralph said. “What do you say?” Barry asked. Ralph stretched his arm out and shook Barry’s hand. “Aw look at my boys their going to work together.” I said playfully putting my hands over my heart. “Come on y/n I think we should really get going.” Barry said. I nodded and got up from the arm rest and started to walked towards the door with Barry. “There’s just one thing I gotta ask you. What made you look into Mayor Bellows in the first place?” Barry asked. “Oh it was a client. Asked me to follow the Mayor. Never met him though. He did everything over the phone.” Ralph said. “Who was it?” Barry asked. “Only gave me his last name. DeVoe.” Barry said. I felt my heart come to a stop. I looked over to Barry who looked as shocked as I do. Everyone who we have meet that was from the future they have mention DeVoe. “What wrong? The name DeVoe mean something to the two of you?” Ralph asked. Barry just nodded. “I smell a mystery.” Ralph said his nose twitching like Samantha from bewitch. “I’ll see you tomorrow Ralph.” Barry said. “Bye Ralph.” I said as Barry grabbed me by the shoulder running me to my apartment. “Y/n can you not tell anybody about what just happened yet.” Barry said. “Yeah of course.” I said. “Thank you. Good night y/n.” Barry said. “Good night Barry.” I said. I watched as Barry ran off.

Taglist: @thescarletknight2014 @kurtbastianlover @cathym99

Overall Taglist: @the-broken-halo-writer

#the flash imagine #ralph dibny imagine #ralph dibny x reader #the flash fanfiction #barry allen #iris west #cisco ramon #caitlin snow #kelsee's works #Do not reblog unless it's from me

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eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 5 years

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Edinburgh To Boston - Chapter 10 - Getting To Know You

Good evening all,

I’m back with Chapter 10. I tried something different here and I hope you all like it. There are some words I used that I got from Google Translate, I hope they are correct. The story also includes references to middle eastern culture. I also hope these are correct. I did my due diligence and researched the culture as best as I could. If there are errors, I do apologize.

We are nearing the end of this story. I am wondering if after I finish it should I continue with a Part II? Would you all be interested in continuing to read about these two or should I move on to something else? Your opinion matters to me.

Any thoughts or comments you have about the story, please let me know. Constructive, respectful criticism is welcome.

I need to thank @curlsgetdemgurls for putting up with me, encouraging me, and being the best beta around.

So without further ado, I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 10

Getting To Know You

SPLAT!!!

Something struck Jamie squarely in the center of his back. He had a suspicion of what hit him and who did it. Turning around he found Claire standing several feet behind him with the most angelic look on her face and her hands behind her back.

“What are ye doin’ there a nighean?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously. She had the appearance of pure innocence.

“Oh, Jamie! I saw it happen. Those little buggers. It was a drive-by snowballing. They ran off that way.” she pointed with her chin toward the street.

Against his better judgment, he turned to gaze in the direction that the supposed miscreants had fled.

SMACK!!!

Another snowball struck Jamie just below his hairline. The snow had yet to freeze and remained soft and powdery. The cold missile exploded sending a shower of fine-grained flakes across his neck tightly gripping his warm skin with icy fingers.

“Ifrinn! Now, Claire! I…” Jamie grumbled, wiping off his forehead, fingers cold.

THUMP!!!

Hurling her third projectile, it impacted successfully at his mid-center.

“OOF! I’ll get ye for this, ye wee minx. See if I dinna,” he said, his eyes narrowing. He meant to get his revenge.

“Catch me if you can!” Claire squealed as she turned to run as fast as the snow-covered walk permitted.

She was no match for Jamie’s long stride and powerful leg muscles.

“Got ye, ye wee besom. Now, tell me what I should do with ye?” He caught up his Sassenach wrapped his arms around her, gripped her in a tight embrace, lifting her up.

“Anything you want to,” she smirked.

Claire dropped her head down and gently kissed him on the tip of the nose. Her eyes shining bright with mischief.

“I can think of any number of things I’d like to do to ye, but none of them can be done in a public place.”

She lowered her head kissing him tenderly on his wide sweet mouth. Her lips parted, tongue sweeping across his, seeking entry. Granted. Their kiss deepened. The world, the cold, the snow all melted away.

“For the love of Mike! Get a room will ya?! This is a public park.” A voice barked out from some distance away.

The lovers broke apart, each looking at the other giggling.

“We have one!” they called back in unison to the anonymous voice.

“Then go there and use it, for Pete’s sake.” There was no malice to the voice rather it sounded amused and happy for the couple.

“Aye, I think we will. Thank ye for the advice.”

*************

The lovers continued their slow-paced walk. Hands linked, fingers intertwined, they stole shy glances at each other. She found his crooked smile charming. He thought her smile sweetly radiant, warming him to the backbone. The walkway was narrow causing them to frequently brush against each other or they wanted to believe.

They talked about everything and nothing, truly getting to know each other. Even though they had worked together for the past year, they knew precious little about each other.

“Have I ever told ye about my family, Sassenach?”

“No, not really,” Claire shook her head.

Jamie, a born storyteller, told her about his family and childhood at Lallybroch.

“My Mam, she seemed to favor me for some reason.” He added quickly, “No’ that she dinna love Willie and Jenny, but she would always look at me, smile and tell me that I was special that I was born to do something important. She said she kent it the day I was born. She would look at me and say, “Jamie lad, I want ye tae study hard, harder than ye want tae or think ye need tae. Someday ye will do something that will affect a lot of people. Ye need tae be ready.'’ I always thought all Mams said such things to their bairns. I dinna ken what I was supposed to do, but I studied hard just as she asked.”

“Now my brother Willie, I idolized him. He could do no wrong as far as I was concerned,” Jamie said with a wistful look on his face, his eyes glistening. “Lord, I was a true pest! I followed him everywhere he went, never chased me away. I mimicked everything he did or tried to. He was to be the next Laird, no’ me,” he said with some guilt in his voice. “He woulda been the better choice for it.”

“Why so?”

“He loved the land, the farm. No’ that I don’t, mind ye, but he woulda stayed at Lallybroch. No’ like me. I kent I had something else to do.”

He went on to tell her about playing with Ian his best friend and his sister Jenny. Bossy one she is and a true meddler. Jenny took over the household when Mam died. He told her tales of going fishing in a burn, sword fights with sticks, climbing trees, and a broken arm from falling out of a tree.

“Did I tell ye about the time Ian and I set the barn on fire? Accidental like, ye ken?” He looked rather sheepish in the telling. “Weel, it happened just after I turned fifteen.”

“Did ye get it,” I asked anxiously as I grabbed Ian by the arm pulling him into the barn.

“Aye, I did.” Ian looked around making sure that they were alone. He looked nervous.

“We’re alone here ye numpty. Where is it?”

He pulled out a fairly crumpled handkerchief from his jeans pocket. The unwrapped bundle revealed a cigarette, somewhat bent, but intact. A half empty book of matches was withdrawn from his other pocket.

Standing there the two boys looked at the cigarette with great reverence. It was the symbol of their burgeoning manhood. They thought of emulating cool Hollywood icons, Steve McQueen, James Dean, Paul Newman, or Marlon Brando with a cigarette hanging from their lips.

“What if we get caught, Jamie? Our Das will kill us.” Second thoughts raced through Ian’s mind wanting to forget the whole idea.

“Nah, we’re safe here. They’re in the fields and willna be back for a few hours,” he grinned. “Ye watched yer faither smokin’ one. So, how do we do it?”

Sighing, he acquiesced to the plan. “He does something like this.” Ian placed the cigarette in his mouth, letting it dangle trying to look ‘cool’. Instead, he looked like a bird with a worm drooping from its beak. He struck the match and the smell of sulfur floated about the barn. The flame ignited the end turning the tip red and glowing. He took a tentative inhale causing the paper to blacken. The fragrant scent of burning tobacco lifted and borne upon the air current. He choked, coughed, and his eyes began to water. His wame twisted and turned with the collywobbles.

“‘Tis good,” he exclaimed lying, not wanting to look unmanly.

“Ye try.”

Jamie dubiously scrutinized his friend/brother. “Ye dinna look so good.” He took the cigarette afraid to look the coward, took a deep inhale, held his breath, eyes bulging wide, and expelled the blue-grey smoke in one giant cough. He continued to cough, sputter, gag, and felt the bile rise to his throat.

“I dinna ken why anyone would wanna tae do this! It tastes nasty, burns my throat and makes me wanna puke.”

At that moment, the laddies heard the return of their fathers from the fields.

They looked at each other with abject horror on their faces, knowing they would soon be caught.

“Damn it, Jamie. I thought ye said they would be gone for a while.” Ian grabbed the cigarette threw it down trying to stomp on it but did not see where it had dropped.

“He told me they would be gone for about an hour or two! They must have finished early.”

They ran to the barn door just in time to see their fathers cresting the hill.

“Did ye put it out?”

“I dinna ken. I think so. It got buried in the hay.”

“Jamie, lad where are ye? Have ye finished yer chores?” Brian Fraser called out in his deep rumbling voice.

“Och, Brian, ye ken they’re probably off on some mischief.” Auld John chuckled. “Ye ken what they’re...what’s that smell? Like something’s burning.” He raised his long straight nose in the air and began to sniff. His eyes drifted toward the barn. “FIRE!!!!”

All the heads swiveled toward the barn. It was on fire.

“Christ,” Jamie exclaimed looking at the back of the barn where they had just been. “Ian get water, I’ll get the horses out. NOW.”

Ian nodded his head and ran hell-for-leather to find the hose to drag it into the barn.

The horses were stamping, snorting, large heads tossing in agitation, eyes wide rolling wildly in their sockets while trying to break free from their stalls.

Donas, the massive ill-tempered black, gnashed his teeth.

“Sin, na biodh eagal ort a-nis. Tha mi an seo.”

Jamie took his shirt off threw it over the head of the black leading him out of the stall. He ran back leading the other two horses to safety.

Ian had returned with the hose dousing the fire putting it out.

Their fathers had arrived breathless from running to find everything under control.

“Care tae explain this?!”

Squaring his shoulders, standing to his full height and taking a deep breath (while commending his soul to God), Jamie told the truth taking the full blame. “I talked Ian into taking one of his Da’s cigarettes. The blame for everything should rest on me. I’m sorry Da.”

“Ye canna take the whole blame. I had a part in this also. ‘Tis my fault as much as his. I’m sorry too Da.”

Jamie stood with his hands clasped in front of him awaiting judgment and punishment to be pronounced. Likewise, Ian stood straight, hands at his side, ready to hear his sentence like a convict before a judge.

“Bairn, get ye tae the rail. Brian’s hands went to unbuckle his belt.

“Both of ye.” Auld John said in a tone that would brook no argument.

“No. Sir.”

“Defiant too, I see. Whatever has gotten into that thick skull of yers, son? Are ye testing me?” Brian asked his face red with fury.

“No, sir. I am no’ testing ye. I just think that I should be punished as a man, no’ as a boy. I have admitted my wrongdoing, seen the error of it, and willing tae take my punishment as a man would, sir.”

“Oh, ye think ye are a man now? Would a man be as careless and start such a fire, hmm? I think no’. Over tae the fence and let’s get on with it.”

“No, Da. Ye need tae punish me as a man, no’ as a boy.”

The two fathers walked away from the boys to confer with each other.

“Man!” Brian snorted sarcastically. “I’ll gie ye a chance tae prove yer a man. As a man, ye should choose yer own punishment. But, I warn ye, if it is not serious enough ye will be over that fence faster than a thought going between a lad and a lass.”

This was an unexpected turn of events.

Jamie and Ian also went to consult with each other and came back with a plan.

Jamie cleared his throat then began, “We have caused considerable damage tae the barn, so we thought we could repair whatever was destroyed in the fire on our free-time after school and weekends. We’ll clean out the old storage shed tae make room for the horses tae stay until the barn is repaired and we’ll take care of the horses, feeding, watering, grooming them, and mucking out the shed. In addition to our regular chores.”

“Ye ken that means ye have to give up yer after-school activities and sports.”

“Aye, Da we ken. We want tae prove we are responsible for our actions and make amends. We’ll explain to coach why we canna participate.”

The two young men stood patiently awaiting the acceptance or rejection of their proposed punishment.

Their fathers looked at each other and smiled.

“Get ye gone, lad. Tell your sister that four men are hungry for their supper.”

Jamie turned to look at his Sassenach after telling her this tale.

"Strange, the things you remember. The people, the places, the moments in time burned into your heart forever, while others fade into the mist. I've always known I would live a life different from other men. When I was a lad, I saw no path to take in front of me. I simply took a step and then another. Moving ever forward, ever onward. Rushing towards someplace, I kent not where. Then one day, I turned around and looked back. I realized that each step I'd taken was a choice. To go left, to go right, to go forward, or maybe no’ go at all. Every day, every man has to make a choice between right and wrong, between love and hate, and even between life and death. And the sum of those choices becomes your life. The day I realized that I became a man.”

There was a faraway look on his sweet face, seeing memories of a time long gone.

“My Da was a strict man, but fair. That day I saw him bend and it made me mindful of what it meant to be a man. A man is one who cares for his family, his community, his friends, his land. He takes responsibility for his actions every day of his life. From that day, I kent I wanted to be just like him. I took things more serious like after that day.”

Jamie paused in telling his story drawing Claire to him gathering the strength to continue from her nearness.

“It...It was after my parents and Willie deaths that I decided to become a doctor. I thought I should do something to help other people, ye ken. Since my heart was broken, I thought I would become a heart surgeon so I could fix other people’s broken hearts and give them a second chance. Does this make sense tae ye, Claire?”

“Perfect sense.”

His hands went to her waist, pulling her even closer to him anchoring himself to her. He rested his chin on the top of her wooly cap. “Do ye think me becoming a doctor and helping people is what my Mam meant about doing something important that would affect a lot of people?”

“I don’t know if she knew you would become a doctor, Jamie but you help so many people because you are. That is something important. The one thing that I do know is she would be so proud of you.”

“Thank ye, Sassenach, for listening.” He clasped her close to him feeling her love permeate out into him warming him to the bone.

He kissed her tenderly on the lips then gave her a little push back looking into her warm amber eyes.

“Enough about me. What about ye, my Sassenach, what was it like growin’ up for ye?”

Claire reciprocated in kind. Telling him of her Travels with Lamb. She laughed saying she always thought that maybe it should be the title of a book. Besides Lamb, there was Firouz, a manservant in her uncle’s employ. Far from being just a steward, Firouz became a beloved second uncle.

Her uncle undertook her education with Claire studying by lamplight each night. On her own, she learned enough of the local language and customs which allowed her to play with the village children. She also learned how to do many things not normally suited for a young lady of gentle birth, digging latrines, hauling water, building campfires, cataloging artifacts, and generally helping her uncle with his excavations.

The trio traveled the world together. India, Egypt, Peru, Mexico were by far the most frequented archeological sites. There once was a summer spent in Paris, while Lamb helped organize an exhibition at the Louvre.

“When I first went with my uncle I was five years old. Poor Firouz, he more or less became my nanny. I spent all my time with him whilst my uncle worked in the field.”

“Come little one! We must hurry to the market before the Aljaddat buy everything. If we do not get there soon, whatever is left will not even be fit for the dogs.”

The child’s legs were no match for the long graceful strides of the man. So, she simply gave up and sat down in the dirt road in her pretty pink dress, white pinafore, white ankle socks with lace trim, and black mary jane shoes. The dust and sand blew around her, covering her in a fine layer of dirt. Her face was gritty, and her curly hair a magnet for grim. The road traffic, braying donkeys and bleating goats, people on foot, children running amongst the animals and pedestrians, passed around her without so much as a glance. No one paid attention to the strange forlorn little girl sitting on the ground.

The man continued to talk believing that the child remained at his side. He stopped when she did not answer him and froze. He looked around and she was gone. Where did she go? Firouz, fearing the worst, began to run quickly retracing his steps only to find her sitting waif-like in the road. He ran to her picked her up cradling her to him. He ran his hands over her, checking her for any obvious sign of injury. Thank Allah, she was sound.

“What were you doing, child? Why were you sitting there?”

“I couldn’t walk that fast.” She looked up at his face speaking in a tiny tremulous voice, “I thought you left me too.” Claire buried her face into the crook of his neck, sobbing.

‘You are a foolish man, Firouz’, he berated himself. ‘She is so small, how could she keep up with you? And after everything that has happened to her? You must be more careful.’ He felt guilty for almost losing the Professor’s niece. But he was a bachelor in the service of a bachelor. What did he know of children, especially a little girl?

“Do not cry Aziz, I will never leave you.” He wiped her face with the sleeve of his tunic. “Let us go to the market, I will carry you.”

“My name is Claire, not Az...Azz”

“Aziz, little one. To me you are Aziz.”

“What does that mean, Aziz?”

“It means beloved.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled.

“Come, let us go, before there is nothing left, only food not even fit for the dogs.”

Claire, snuggled against him and gave a little giggle.

Five Years Later -

“Come onnnn, Uncle Firouz, what is taking you so loooong?” Claire now age ten, ran ahead of her Uncle. She was indistinguishable from the other street urchins, dressed in loose white gallabya decorated with colorful embroidery and a floppy hat on her head. The sun had kissed her once porcelain skin turning it a warm golden brown. Her hair glowed with strands of gold, copper, and auburn scattering amid her dark brown curls. The child was thriving and happy, Firouz thought and was pleased. Although, there were moments when he could still see terrible sadness in those remarkable topaz eyes.

Claire ran back to her Uncle grabbed his hand pulling him toward the market. “Uncle Firouz if we don’t hurry then the Aljaddat will buy the best and ...”

“We will get what is not fit even for the dogs,” he said with a laugh. “You do pay attention, Aziz.”

Claire’s shining eyes looked up at him with affection, “Yes, Uncle I do.”

Claire ran amongst the stalls picking, choosing, and bargaining just as her Uncle had taught her. It amused him to watch her haggle, hands on her hips, pretending that the quality of the merchandise was poor and negotiating for a better price. She was an amazing child this child of his heart.

After purchasing what they needed, they walked to a cafe where her guardian would sit and take coffee with a friend.

“You have done well Aziz and earned a treat.” He reached into a pocket gave her some coins. “Go and buy yourself something. But do not be long, we must get back to the camp.” He touched her cheek tenderly, “Now shoo.”

To Claire, the bazaar was a magical place. The sights, the sounds, the smells that wafted around her enticed her to come nearer much as a moth dangerously circled close to a flame. All the tents, shops, and stalls were decorated with colorful pennants and banners, blue, red, yellow, green, offsetting the drab desert colors of neverending orange-yellow sand and dreary beige landscapes. Flags swayed gently in the breeze beckoning her forward like a finger curling in temptation. Many of the shopkeepers knew her by name and called to her hawking their wares.

She didn’t know what to do with her few coins. Should she buy herself a treat of some candy or a sweet bun? Perhaps she should save it as Lamb’s birthday was near and she wanted to get him a little present.

She wandered the maze of the marketplace, looking at this and that but finding nothing she wanted. Suddenly a gust of wind rose up around her carrying a spicy, herbal smell on the air that she had never noticed before. The aroma pulled at her with an almost mystical proportion weaving around her transporting her to it. She followed the fragrance to a tent where a woman was busy grinding something. She shyly crept forward watching the woman work.

“Do you wish to watch, child?”

Claire nodded. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making medicines.”

“Why?”

“Because some people come to me for help when they are sick.”

“But there are doctors and hospitals for that.”

“Some people prefer the old ways, the more natural ways, and sometimes people cannot afford to go to doctors or hospitals. So, they come to me.”

Inching closer, she peered into the bowl. She wrinkled her nose at the unfamiliar odor.

“These are coriander seeds.”

“What’s it for?”

“It can be used for many things. Like relieving pain and stiffness in joints, headaches, stomach aches, like when you eat too many sweets!” The woman tickled Claire’s belly and laughed broadly showing a number of missing teeth.

“Would you like to try?”

Her head nodded vigorously.

Pulling up a stool for Claire to kneel on, she began to show her how to grind and crush with a mortar and pestle. They laughed at some of the seeds escaping over the rim of the bowl.

The sound of grinding and scraping filled the little enclosure. The healer showed her novice different herbs and spices explaining what each was used for and how to make tisanes and ointments with each.

A great shadow darkened the entrance, “What are you doing with my niece, witch?” said a deep male voice brusquely.

“I am not a witch!!” the woman spurted out angrily. “It is always the same. Women who have knowledge of healing are condemned as witches.”

Claire looked from her Uncle to her new friend in complete confusion. “Uncle, she was only showing…”

“Enough, Aziz, we must be going. It is getting late.” Firouz spoke more sharply than he had intended.

“Yes, young one, it is late. You must go back with your Uncle.”

“Will I see you again?”

The woman looked at Firouz who scowled fiercely at her. “No, child, I will be gone by the morning.” Carefully, so as not to be seen, she slipped a small pouch into Claire’s hand and whispered, “Something to remember me by. Do not show it to anyone. It will help you when you heal.”

Claire gave a little nod, slipped it into a pocket murmuring thank you.

“We are leaving Aziz. Come.” Firouz took her small hand in his large one guiding her out of the shelter.

“Why were you so upset, Uncle? She was just teaching me her ways of healing. It was interesting.”

“Aziz, women like her are often looked upon as witches. The villagers might think of you in the same way if they see you with her. It could only bring trouble for you if they do. I only want to protect you, my precious girl,” he said with a sad smile.

That night Claire spoke with her Uncle Lamb about what had happened. He thought it all stuff and nonsense as he did not share the villagers’ superstitions.

“Claire, the most important thing you need to learn, even though we do not share their beliefs, it is to respect them.”

“Even if their beliefs are wrong, Uncle?”

“Even if they are wrong. You must remember, my heart, that these people have never been more than a day’s ride away from where they were born. They live in small villages, and among the oases. They don’t know anything else other than the superstitions and beliefs that have been passed down over the centuries. It is hard to blame them as they don’t know any better or different.

“But shouldn’t we tell them it’s wrong?”

Lamb considered for a moment what to say, “My precious girl, you have a kind heart, this I know and you would like to help people, but changing long-held beliefs takes a very, very long time to take place. It can happen, but not as quickly as you or I would like. Have faith that someday it will come about.”

“That was the lady’s name...Iman. She told me it means to be faithful.”

He pulled his niece onto his lap, cuddling her close to his heart. “I love you my Claire, you are my heart’s own child.” He kissed the top of her curly head.

Lamb sat in quiet contemplation before speaking again.

“Firouz, I think we should encourage Claire’s interest in healing. What do you say?”

“As you wish, Professor.”

“There is one proviso, my dear girl, and that is if Firouz or I think you should not go to visit one of these healers, you will obey our instructions.” Lamb raised an inquiring eyebrow to her.

“I’ll listen to you and Uncle Firouz. I promise. Thank you, Uncles.” Claire snuggled into Lamb’s chest, feeling safe and loved.

“As we traveled to different countries, I spent time with the local healer, herbalists, shaman, or curanderos learning how they healed the sick and what herbs they used. I think that Iman set me on my path to becoming a healer, a doctor that afternoon.”

“I have one question for ye Sassenach, what was in the pouch?”

“Ah, well there was dried mint and thyme leaves, coriander seeds, and a small uncut, unpolished sapphire. Sapphires help to channel healing energy from one person to another. Very essential for any healer to have, wouldn’t you say. I kept the pouch in memory of Iman, my first medical teacher. The herbs are all dust now, but the sapphire is still there.”

“Yer a verra fine doctor, Sassenach. Iman would be proud.”

Claire kept her arms wrapped around her Scot, holding him close, resting her head on his chest.

“Thank you, Jamie, for always being there for me.” Standing on her toes she reached up and tenderly kiss him. She relaxed into his embrace feeling loved and cared for.

They stood holding each other within the sanctuary of their cocoon enjoying the warm feelings from sharing parts of their life story with each other.

Their heads rose listening to the stramash slowly headed their way. A voice carried on the swell of the air currents. It sounded like a woman scolding someone, scolding, a child. The voice sounded familiar. It carried a certain lilt to it. Scottish.

“Rabbie, ye wee gomeral! Dinna stick yer brother’s head in the snow, aye. He canna breathe in there.”

The figures drew closer, a man and a woman, an elderly couple. Accompanying them were two children, two boys and rambunctious ones at that. Always one with a good eye for detail, Jamie was certain he had met the couple before. The man had a jaunty set to his cap, a commanding height, and the spectacles were placed on the tip of his nose. The woman also was tall, but not as tall as the man, grey hair, and had a certain fullness of figure, grandmother-like.

“Sassenach, ‘tis Harry and Maizie from the plane. I dinna think we would ever see them again,” he said a wide smile playing across his sweet mouth.

Jamie raised his arm waving it furiously loudly calling out, “mo charaid.”

***********

Oh, Jamie! I saw it happen. Those little buggers. It was a drive-by snowballing. They ran off that way. -- I adapted this from the movie Mrs. Doubtfire and the drive-by fruiting. RIP Robin Williams

Sin, na biodh eagal ort a-nis. Tha mi an seo -- Hush, don’t be afraid. I am here now.

Aljaddat -- Grandmothers

Aziz -- Beloved

Gallabya -- is a traditional Egyptian garment native to the Nile Valley.

Iman -- to be faithful

#edinburgh to boston #chapter 10 #getting to know you #outlander fic #my writing #growing up #cigarette #fire #egypt #healer #Harry and Maizie return #bet you didn't see that coming #curlsgetdemgurls #julesbeauchamp #we are almost at the end #Here Goes Nothing

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thedyingmoon · 5 years

Text

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

XXII

***

"Hello?"

"Kyrie, it's me."

"Nero! Oh, thank God, you're alright!"

"How are things there?"

"I've heard Fortuna's in complete ruins now because of the Dreadnought and its horde. But, we're safe here. You don't have to worry about us."

"Glad to hear that."

"Yes."

...

"Nero?"

"Hmm?"

"Is,... something bothering you?"

"Ah,... nothing."

"Hmm,..."

"Haha. It's nothing. Really."

"Nero, I can tell something's wrong, even if we're thousands of miles apart. I love you, and you know you can always tell me anything. I'm here for you."

...

"Kyrie,..."

"I'm listening."

"What will you do if,..."

"Hmm?"

"Well, let's say you confessed your,... ah,... feelings for me."

"Yes. And?"

"And,... ah,... I rejected you. Like, badly. Like, not even friendzone. What will you do?"

"Hmm, to tell you the truth, I can't imagine you doing that to me. But, if that happens, well,..."

"Well?"

"Of course, I would definitely get hurt. A lot. Nothing hurts more than a special someone, a loved one, pushing you away from their life. My heart would be shattered to pieces, and I would feel like my existence won't matter anymore."

"Whoa! The existence part is too much!"

"Ah, you don't understand, Nero. Girls' feelings are delicate. They may act tough but, deep inside, their heart is dying. No matter how much they struggle against the sadness, eventually it will come back and haunt them. It's like a sickness, being heartbroken. And it's very hard to heal."

"Oh. How do they, uh, cope? They can't stay like that forever, right?"

"Hmm, let's see. With company. With friends who would never leave them. Who would stay for them, eat ice cream with them, and watch romantic movies with them. With honest people who would tell them that the right man would come for them in the right time and everything would be just fine."

"The right man? So, they're just gonna make her forget that she loved - "

" - a man who hurt and rejected her? Well, of course! He hurt her, so he doesn't deserve her."

"Listen, Kyrie: what if he's the one? The one who rejected her?"

"...

... if he's the one, then he shouldn't have rejected her in the first place. It's just,... wrong,... and,... stupid."

"I see."

"Oh, don't tell me you're courting someone while I'm on the other side of the globe?"

"WHAT?! NO! I would never do that to you!"

"Hahaha! Of course, Nero. I know you would never do that to me. So, who's the sad girl?"

"..."

"Nero? Tell me."

"It's (Y/N). Do you know her?"

"Yes. Nico's always telling me about her. She sounds like a great person. Why? Who rejected her?"

"Ah, it's,..."

"Who?"

"I - it's a long story. You know what? Prepare the ice cream and the movies. We'll end this battle quick, because she needs your company. (Y/N) needs you. Us."

"Okay, Nero."

"Wait for us, Kyrie."

"I will wait for you, for as long as I live."

"I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

Nero hung up the phone, sighing as he did so. Ever since hearing about your dire situation ( meaning, everything ) from Nico, herself, he couldn't help but be sad and angry.

Sad for you, and angry at V.

What man could ever stomach doing that to a girl who clearly loved him?! Enough to follow him at death's door?!

The young Devil Hunter shook his head in disbelief. He could still remember the Artisan's words to him a few minutes prior.

"Go after (Y/N)! She's reckless right now, and she needs someone who could stop her from killing herself!"

"Seriously, V." Nero said to himself as he scratched his head in confusion, unable to envision himself rejecting his beloved Kyrie. "You are one stupid son of a bitch for doing that to (Y/N),..."

"Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I'll be there, yeah! You've got a frieeennnddd!"

"You sound terrible."

"Are ya kiddin'?! I sound angelic!"

"Right,..."

"(Y/N) and,... Griffon?" Nero uttered upon hearing the conversation not far from where he was. He left the last good phonebooth of the city and went to his vehicle,...

"Now, you do it." Griffon challenged you as you two made your way towards the Dreadnought.

You cleared your throat and opened your mouth, belting the lines that the bird just sang.

"Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I'll be there, yeah! You've got a frieeennnddd!"

"UGH! AND YA CALL THAT SINGING?! YE SOUND LIKE A CAT IN HEAT FALLING FROM THE TOP OF THE EIFFEL TOWER!"

"I TOLD YOU! I'M TONE DEAF!"

"Yeah, ya better stick to dancin', sweet pea. Haha! Haha! Ah, haha! Well, ah,... no offense. You really sound terrible."

"I know but, you don't have to rub it in,..."

"(Y/N)!" The two of you suddenly heard a voice behind you.

"Is that?" Griffon questioned as you two looked behind you,...

... to see Nero going full speed towards you in a sleek and sick - looking motorcycle that seemed to glow both blue and purple. He stopped just a few steps from you and proudly revved his new vehicle.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Need a ride?" The young Devil Hunter asked you with his signature, charmingly boyish smile.

"I thought Eleison's destroyed?" You asked as you glanced at the amazing vehicle in awe.

"Yeah. I saw it with ma own eyes." Griffon added.

Nero chuckled. "She is. But, you see, a few hours ago, I defeated this knight - Demon thing who wields electricity. When I fought it, its broken parts kinda merged with some vehicle gears. Long story short, I now have Kyrie Eleison!"

"And it has a name now! Right,..." the demonic bird sarcastically replied.

"Anyway, I'm going straight to that ugly ship to make it sink! Wanna tag along?"

"I don't know, Nero!" You answered. "I mean, can it even fly?"

The boy may not have mentioned it but, he can clearly see your red puffy eyes. Like you have been crying a lot. He chose to ignore this, planning to bring this up for after the battle, and spoke. "We'll see about that. Hop on!"

You awkwardly took a seat behind the boy, feeling a bit weak in the legs, and held tightly unto his wide shoulders for support. Griffon automatically positioned himself behind you, grabbing unto your hoodie with his talons.

Seeing that you're prepared and ready for a wild ride, Nero revved Kyrie Eleison and sped fast. He laughed so hard upon hearing your and Griffon's screams and made the vehicle even faster.

"NERO! CAN WE SLOW DOWN?!" You hysterically begged the boy.

"No! We're gonna fly, remember?!"

"AAAHHH!"

Meanwhile, Trish and Lady were still fighting against the Demon horde below when they heard your screams.

"What's that?" Lady asked as she fired her Kalina Ann, making one Demon's face blast into bloody pieces.

"It sounds like,..." Trish said as she slowly looked up.

And there, right above that hill, the two women saw you, Nero, and Griffon, riding a weird - looking motorcycle and actually flying towards the entrance to the Dreadnought.

"How in the world - ?!" Trish exclaimed in utter awe of the reckless feat.

"They will never make it!" Lady yelled as she prepared for the worst.

"WE'LL NEVER MAKE IT!" You screamed, terrified for what will happen next.

"WE'LL CRASH!" Griffon, who seemed to have forgotten that he could easily fly away from all of this, hysterically added, still clinging unto your hoodie for dear life.

"NOT TODAY!" Nero answered, growling like hell as he revved the motorcycle, willing for it to land safely inside the demonic ship.

All of a sudden, Kyrie Eleison glowed even brighter than ever before with electric currents running all throughout its mechanical body. Its light blinded the Demons below, giving Trish and Lady enough time and opportunity to murder more of them.

"GGGYYYAAARRRGGGHHH!"

"SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!"

"I WON'T LET YOU DDDIIIEEE!" Nero howled as the motorcycle came into contact with the light barrier that guarded the entrance.

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms tightly around Nero, not wanting to see yourself crash,...

But, everything seemed normal as you finally landed. You opened your eyes, seeing your uninjured body, and glanced at Nero.

"Is this it? Are we safe now?" You asked, unable to believe that you just flew a motorcycle towards the monstrous - looking ship

"Seems like it." Nero answered you with a bashful smile.

"Look at this!" Griffon exclaimed in both awe and fear as he looked all over the place.

From the outside, Shinano Musashi looked like a huge hunk of demonic - looking metal with strange horns and protrusions. An impossibly huge mechanism that could float on the sky.

However, inside it was a different story, altogether. The Dreadnought may look robotic and lifeless on the outside but, its insides surely looked like the innards of a monster. Huge veins of both purple and red crawled all over the fleshy, bloody walls, and there was a distinct scent of sulfur wafting about the place. The floors were entirely filled with pools of a crimson - colored liquid that felt sticky when stepped on. Strange green crystals that provided some form of light protruded on the walls of flesh, and different moans of both pain and suffering could be heard echoing all over the place.

It was as if you entered a floating hell.

"What a putrid smell!" The demonic bird complained as he finally let go of your hoodie.

"I actually agree with you, little chicken." Nero answered as he merely dodged a sticky yellow substance that dripped from the pulsating ceiling.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! YOU UNGRATEFUL, SON OF A - !"

"It's calling me."

Both Nero and Griffon looked at you as you got off of Kyrie Eleison and started walking deeper towards the cavern of the Dreadnought.

"Who is calling you?" The bird questioned as he flew towards you.

"I,... don't know,..." You answered. You, then, turned and glanced back at your two companions, your eyes looking heavy and empty as if in a trance. "It's calling my name. Can't you hear it?"

"No!" The young Devil Hunter and the demonic familiar simultaneously answered.

"There it is. I'm,... coming,..." You said monotonously as you looked away from them and continued walking.

"(Y/N), don't go there alone!" The boy called after you, then clicked his tongue in annoyance. He dismounted and went after you together with the bird.

A few hours of endless walking and various turns deep inside the Dreadnought led you to a slightly different room with less wet flesh and pulsating veins.

You stopped walking as soon as you noticed the quiet and much darker atmosphere. You looked up, wondering who called you there and noticed a subtle glow of light right in front of you in the form of a floating orb.

As soon as Nero saw this orb, he protectively pulled you away as he took out his Blue Rose and pointed at it.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N) but, I don't trust this fairy dust." The boy said as he faced the suspicious - looking orb.

"I don't think it wants a conversation with you right now, kid." Griffon told him as he perched at your right arm.

All of a sudden, the orb grew bigger, casting numerous malicious - looking shadows on the walls. Nero took a step away from it, shielding his eyes from the blinding light until it imploded, leaving the whole room in darkness.

"What happened?!" Griffon squawked as he looked around for potential danger.

"I don't know but, I have a bad feeling about this,..." the boy answered as he drew The Red Queen in preparation for a battle.

A few moments later, all three of you heard a noise coming from the far end of the room. Your heart suddenly became heavier as a black mass went towards you.

Nero revved his Red Queen, ready to attack the enemy, when, suddenly,...

"Kyrie?" Nero uttered, bewildered to find the woman he loved standing in front of him. "Sweetheart, what are you doing here?"

Your eyes widened as you noticed the sinister smile on Kyrie's face.

Something was off!

"Nero! Wait - !"

When he was about to reach out to his lover, a strange kind of light in the form of multiple dark whips emanated from her, throwing the boy towards the other end of the room.

"Griffon, please!" You asked the familiar as you took out your rapier and shield.

"No need to tell me!" The bird answered as it gathered its power for an attack -

"Don't you dare hurt her!" Nero screamed as he finally stood up.

"Can't ya see, kid?! This chick's not yer fling! She - SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!"

"GRIFFON!" You yelled as one of the whips of dark light coming from the creature impersonating Kyrie grabbed one of the demonic avian's talons and practically threw him away with much force. The bird landed on the ground beside Nero, which left you as the last fighter standing.

You drew your weapon and carefully walked towards the enemy when it suddenly looked at you with its sinister eyes and evil smile. It engulfed itself with its dark light once more, and when it subsided, you saw, in horror, the poet standing before you.

"WHAT IN THE SCHTICK?!" Griffon swore, his golden eyes wide with both humor and fear.

"V?!" Nero muttered in confusion. "(Y/N), look out!"

Before you could even attack, the man strode towards you, raised his hand with the metal cane, and brought it swiftly down on your face, wounding you and making you stumble to the ground.

Your hand automatically went up your cheek and felt something moist from it. You looked at your fingers - blood.

"GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU CHEAP V RIP - OFF FROM HELL!" Griffon shrieked as he flew towards the creature. He released a strong electric attack with the full intention of killing the enemy.

However, the "cheap V rip - off" simply dodged it, flawlessly jumping in mid - air and hitting Griffon with his cane with unbelievable strength. The bird landed on the ground with an ugly thud.

"Nobody told me he's not sissy like his real counterpart!" Griffon quipped as he tried to get up from the ground. But then, the enemy stepped on him and drove his cane deep into his flesh, instantly making him enter his stalemate state.

"Griffon!" You quickly stood up and ran towards the familiar but the enemy whacked you with his cane once more, this time, straight on your back.

"FUCK YOU!" Nero swore as he charged towards the fake V. The enemy noticed this and changed back to Kyrie. The boy did a mistake of stopping in his tracks, making the enemy attack him once more with its dark whips. He came flying towards the other end of the room, feeling fresh wounds and multiple injuries all over his body.

"TAKE THIS!" You screamed at the top of your lungs as you whacked your shield on Kyrie's back, making it stumble. Then, you hastily went to Nero's side, helping him on his feet.

"We can't attack it like this!" Nero thundered as he stood up, giving the enemy an angry look for taking the form of a person as pure and as angelic as Kyrie.

You looked at him, knowing exactly what the enemy's weakness was. "Nero, listen to me. That is not Kyrie - "

"I know! You don't have to tell me!"

"But, just now, you hesitated to attack her!"

Nero punched the ground in frustration. You grabbed his arm and made him look up at you.

"We'll attack it together! Come on, Nero! We have to do this!"

A few minutes later of quick strategizing, the two of you came charging towards the enemy. You took turns attacking it, Nero with his Red Queen and you with your rapier. However, the enemy also switched from Kyrie to V, confusing you and unintentionally opening yourselves for its deadly attacks.

Nero, on the other hand, had enough and slashed the enemy's torso the moment it turned back to V. It drew back in shock, clutching its wounded stomach, then turned to you two with murder and malice in its now red eyes. It dropped its cane on the ground and changed back to Kyrie, extending one of its whips and pinned Nero to the wall, fatally wounding him.

Just when you were about to attack it, it rapidly went back to V, waved its arms, and summoned mulitple blades of blue light that rapidly went down on you like bullets.

Nero watched helplessly as the enemy rained its blades of light down upon you, wounding you to the point that you could no longer get up. He wanted to retaliate but, when he tried to even move a muscle, the shape - shifting creature only pinned him to the wall again with its dark whip of light, injuring him even more.

You looked up at Nero, feeling the endless lashes on your battered body. You reached a single hand towards him, wanting to help him despite your torture. Bloody and torn, he also reached out to you,...

That's when you saw it.

His Breaker suddenly disintegrated and turned into ashes. The boy was engulfed in a warm kind of blue light that instantly healed all of his wounds and injuries. Slowly and like a true miracle, the blue light that engulfed his right arm took form, morphing into something more solid,...

... turning into real flesh,...

His eyes widened at the sight. He forcefully grabbed the dark whip that imprisoned him using his newly formed right arm and almost melted it with the sheer light and warmth it radiated.

The enemy took notice of this and abruptly halted its attack on you, turning into Kyrie once more but, this time, more evil and seductive - looking than ever. And with more dark whips that surrounded its whole body like numerous tails.

"Your tricks are getting too old, you bitch." Nero quipped as he motioned for the enemy to come closer. "I'll make you pay for this!"

With wide eyes filled with wonder, you watched as the youth fought the enemy with ease, wounding it, tearing it apart with his bare hands, and exposing it for what it really was. The beating went on for three unbearable minutes, and when it finally went down to the ground helpless and dying, he went towards you to help you stand.

Grabbing his warm right arm, you spoke, "This is a miracle!"

"I know." Nero answered as he supported you.

You turned towards the dark, beaten, writhing mass on the ground that was the remnants of Kyrie and limped your way to it with Nero still on your heel.

"Who called me here?" You asked it, foolishly believing that it could somehow shed light to the mystery of the Dreadnought and the voice that was calling you.

However, it made one last dying effort to morph once more into V to confuse you. But, the V this time never had the chance to even lay its fingers on you as it remained on the ground beaten and broken.

You felt a pang of guilt as you looked at it and realized that it was only making you feel that way to defeat you.

With one last sigh of apathy towards the enemy, you took Nero's Red Queen from him, held it above your head, and plunged it to V's heart, making it writhe and wriggle even more with pain. Feeling your tears pour out of your tired eyes for this unspeakable creature for exposing your true emotions, you plunged the hot sword even deeper, skewering its heart and reducing the enemy down to its true form - a short and wrinkled creature, about four feet in height, with long twisted claws, sharp red eyes, green skin, and skinny legs. You took the sword out of its body and slashed its head, decapitating it and finally putting an end to it once and for all. The remains of the despicable creature caught on fire and slowly turned into ashes.

You gave the sword back to Nero as you collapsed on the ground.

"So, that's how Mina felt when she decapitated Dracula." You sighed as you settled on the ground to make yourself comfortable. "Oh, that's wrong. That's no Dracula,..."

"Why Kyrie? Why not somebody else?" The youth asked as he watched the creature's ashes get flown by the wind.

You sighed, feeling the massive weight on your heart and shoulders. "It only reflects how much you love a person. The enemy used it against you because it knew it would be your biggest weakness."

Nero looked at you in dismay. "So, you still love him,... V?"

You blinked twice, not sure if your heart could take any more pain. You, then, let out a long sigh of depression. "After all this time. Yes." You answered, wincing in pain as you touched one bloody wound on your arm.

"Hey, you should fall back now, you can't fight like this!" The boy pleaded as you let him support you.

However, the moment your skin made contact with his new arm once again, a new set of visions flashed through your mind about him. It was rapid, and yet,...

You only shook your head in disagreement. "Don't mind me. I'll be fine."

"You'll be fine?! What are you - ?"

Nero's sentence was cut off as he saw, with his own two eyes, how the wounds on your body miraculously healed. He watched the phenomenon in total shock, and when your last wound closed, he could only laugh in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you're immortal?!" Nero questioned you.

"And what does that make you?" You asked him as you gave a knowing look on his new right arm.

"Come on, (Y/N). I'm serious here! How did you - ?"

"You never asked how Griffon came to be my familiar." You cut him off. "And you never asked why my eyes are red. I know Nico told you everything. But, the question is,..." You said, giving him a questioning look as you raised an eyebrow. "... how much do you know?"

The youth could only gulp down in nervousness, his sweat running cold in the process. "Everything."

"Oh."

"FUCK YEAH! What? Hey, what did I miss?" Griffon, who was just fully healed and revived, asked as he flew down towards the two of you.

"Nero pulled a rabbit out of his sleeve." You answered without so much as a fuss.

"Really? Oh, wait. You're being sarcastic - !"

"Which brings me to my next agenda." You said as you held up a hand to silence Griffon. "Nero,..."

"What is it, (Y/N)?"

You looked into the youth's sincere eyes, deciding whether to tell him what you just saw or not, then shook your head.

"Forget I said anything." You quietly answered as you stood up.

"I know you saw something about me. Tell me!"

You narrowed your eyes at the boy.

Well,...

He had the right to know!

"Listen: do you know Luke Skywalker? The Jedi?" You asked him as you removed your shredded parka, letting Nero take a glimpse of the contract markings on your right arm.

"Luke,... Skywalker? I'm not sure I could follow,..."

"Yeah, the woman likes movies, ya know?" Griffon added as he perched on your arm.

"So, what does this Luke have to do with me?" Nero inquired as he followed you out of the dark and depressing room.

"Hmm, I don't know. Could you say, that's impossible!"

"That's impossible! There, I said it."

"You'll say that again later."

"What do you mean by that? Hey, (Y/N)!"

You turned to glance at the boy. Taking pity on him, you spoke, "You know, you are very fortunate."

"Uh, thank you, I guess?" Nero replied, scratching his temple in confusion.

"Thank you for everything, Nero."

"Nah, it's nothing."

"Tell Kyrie I said hi."

"Sure thing."

"This will be the last time. You'll never see me again."

"Okay. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!"

But, you were already gone before he could even ask you that last bit that Nico never told him,...

***

~ A V X Reader set in an Alternate Universe where cheap rip - offs are way stronger than the originals. 🤔

~ This chapter is dedicated to @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @yepps and @sofia-micaela . 🖤

~ Tagging @heaven-on-a-landslide , @lessy86 , @krazy06 , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @ehrzeth , @ceruleanworld , @gxthghoulfriend , and @diabeticsugarush . 🖤

***

In silence and total darkness, V waited for you to arrive. And during those tense moments, he could only think of Fleminger's words to him.

"I know it is power you seek, my Lord. She has that power you're searching for - the power to make yourself invulnerable. The power - to put you back to your former self. Deep within the Dreadnought lies her true heart. But, piercing it would do you no good. Pierce,...

... her body first, then make her power mine. Only then can I defeat the Dreadnought." V uttered as Shadow morphed into an indistinguishable form before him. "Only then,... can I truly become,...

... whole. Once more."

At those final words, something huge behind him pulsated, splashing the suffocating room with its sickly crimson glow and casting unearthly shadows before the poet.

V looked down on his hands. His crumbling flesh. His time,... was coming to an end.

And so, he shall soon receive the power,...

"Come to me, my love." He called for the third time, knowing that you would come to him right away without hesitation,...

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

~ 15 ~

***

#devil may cry 5 #v #i see my future before me #v x reader #v x you #devil may cry nero #devil may cry kyrie #devil may cry nico #devil may cry trish #devil may cry lady #devil may cry griffon #devil may cry shadow #you've got a friend #carole king #chapter 22

28 notes · View notes

etlunainmorte · 5 years

Text

💙 I See My Future Before Me 💙

***

“Hello?”

“Kyrie, it’s me.”

“Nero! Oh, thank God, you’re alright!”

“How are things there?”

“I’ve heard Fortuna’s in complete ruins now because of the Dreadnought and its horde. But, we’re safe here. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“Glad to hear that.”

“Yes.”

…

“Nero?”

“Hmm?”

“Is,… something bothering you?”

“Ah,… nothing.”

“Hmm,…”

“Haha. It’s nothing. Really.”

“Nero, I can tell something’s wrong, even if we’re thousands of miles apart. I love you, and you know you can always tell me anything. I’m here for you.”

…

“Kyrie,…”

“I’m listening.”

“What will you do if,…”

“Hmm?”

“Well, let’s say you confessed your,… ah,… feelings for me.”

“Yes. And?”

“And,… ah,… I rejected you. Like, badly. Like, not even friend zone. What will you do?”

“Hmm, to tell you the truth, I can’t imagine you doing that to me. But, if that happens, well,…”

“Well?”

“Of course, I would definitely get hurt. A lot. Nothing hurts more than a special someone, a loved one, pushing you away from their life. My heart would be shattered to pieces, and I would feel like my existence won’t matter anymore.”

“Whoa! The existence part is too much!”

“Ah, you don’t understand, Nero. Girls’ feelings are delicate. They may act tough but, deep inside, their heart is dying. No matter how much they struggle against the sadness, eventually it will come back and haunt them. It’s like a sickness, being heartbroken. And it’s very hard to heal.”

“Oh. How do they, uh, cope? They can’t stay like that forever, right?”

“Hmm, let’s see. With company. With friends who would never leave them. Who would stay for them, eat ice cream with them, and watch romantic movies with them. With honest people who would tell them that the right man would come for them in the right time and everything would be just fine.”

“The right man? So, they’re just gonna make her forget that she loved - ”

“ - a man who hurt and rejected her? Well, of course! He hurt her, so he doesn’t deserve her.”

“Listen, Kyrie: what if he’s the one? The one who rejected her?”

“…

… if he’s the one, then he shouldn’t have rejected her in the first place. It’s just,… wrong,… and,… stupid.”

“I see.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re courting someone while I’m on the other side of the globe?”

“WHAT?! NO! I would never do that to you!”

“Hahaha! Of course, Nero. I know you would never do that to me. So, who’s the sad girl?”

“…”

“Nero? Tell me.”

“It’s (Y/N). Do you know her?”

“Yes. Nico’s always telling me about her. She sounds like a great person. Why? Who rejected her?”

“Ah, it’s,…”

“Who?”

“I - it’s a long story. You know what? Prepare the ice cream and the movies. We’ll end this battle quick, because she needs your company. (Y/N) needs you. Us.”

“Okay, Nero.”

“Wait for us, Kyrie.”

“I will wait for you, for as long as I live.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Nero hung up the phone, sighing as he did so. Ever since hearing about your dire situation ( meaning, everything ) from Nico, herself, he couldn’t help but be sad and angry.

Sad for you, and angry at V.

What man could ever stomach doing that to a girl who clearly loved him?! Enough to follow him at death’s door?!

The young Devil Hunter shook his head in disbelief. He could still remember the Artisan’s words to him a few minutes prior.

“Go after (Y/N)! She’s reckless right now, and she needs someone who could stop her from killing herself!”

“Seriously, V.” Nero said to himself as he scratched his head in confusion, unable to envision himself rejecting his beloved Kyrie. “You are one stupid son of a bitch for doing that to (Y/N),…”

“Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I’ll be there, yeah! You’ve got a frieeennnddd!”

“You sound terrible.”

“Are ya kiddin’?! I sound angelic!”

“Right,…”

“(Y/N) and,… Griffon?” Nero uttered upon hearing the conversation not far from where he was. He left the last good phone booth of the city and went to his vehicle,…

“Now, you do it.” Griffon challenged you as you two made your way towards the Dreadnought.

You cleared your throat and opened your mouth, belting the lines that the bird just sang.

“Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I’ll be there, yeah! You’ve got a frieeennnddd!”

“UGH! AND YA CALL THAT SINGING?! YE SOUND LIKE A CAT IN HEAT FALLING FROM THE TOP OF THE EIFFEL TOWER!”

“I TOLD YOU! I’M TONE DEAF!”

“Yeah, ya better stick to dancin’, sweet pea. Haha! Haha! Ah, haha! Well, ah,… no offense. You really sound terrible.”

“I know but, you don’t have to rub it in,…”

“(Y/N)!” The two of you suddenly heard a voice behind you.

“Is that?” Griffon questioned as you two looked behind you,…

… to see Nero going full speed towards you in a sleek and sick - looking motorcycle that seemed to glow both blue and purple. He stopped just a few steps from you and proudly revved his new vehicle.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Need a ride?” The young Devil Hunter asked you with his signature, charmingly boyish smile.

“I thought Eleison’s destroyed?” You asked as you glanced at the amazing vehicle in awe.

“Yeah. I saw it with ma own eyes.” Griffon added.

Nero chuckled. “She is. But, you see, a few hours ago, I defeated this knight - Demon thing who wields electricity. When I fought it, its broken parts kinda merged with some vehicle gears. Long story short, I now have Kyrie Eleison!”

“And it has a name now! Right,…” the demonic bird sarcastically replied.

“Anyway, I’m going straight to that ugly ship to make it sink! Wanna tag along?”

“I don’t know, Nero!” You answered. “I mean, can it even fly?”

Seeing that you’re prepared and ready for a wild ride, Nero revved Kyrie Eleison and sped fast. He laughed so hard upon hearing your and Griffon’s screams and made the vehicle even faster.

“NERO! CAN WE SLOW DOWN?!” You hysterically begged the boy.

“No! We’re gonna fly, remember?!”

“AAAHHH!”

Meanwhile, Trish and Lady were still fighting against the Demon horde below when they heard your screams.

“What’s that?” Lady asked as she fired her Kalina Ann, making one Demon’s face blast into bloody pieces.

“It sounds like,…” Trish said as she slowly looked up.

And there, right above that hill, the two women saw you, Nero, and Griffon, riding a weird - looking motorcycle and actually flying towards the entrance to the Dreadnought.

“How in the world - ?!” Trish exclaimed in utter awe of the reckless feat.

“They will never make it!” Lady yelled as she prepared for the worst.

“WE’LL NEVER MAKE IT!” You screamed, terrified for what will happen next.

“WE’LL CRASH!” Griffon, who seemed to have forgotten that he could easily fly away from all of this, hysterically added, still clinging unto your hoodie for dear life.

“NOT TODAY!” Nero answered, growling like hell as he revved the motorcycle, willing for it to land safely inside the demonic ship.

“GGGYYYAAARRRGGGHHH!”

“SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!”

“I WON’T LET YOU DDDIIIEEE!” Nero howled as the motorcycle came into contact with the light barrier that guarded the entrance.

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms tightly around Nero, not wanting to see yourself crash,…

But, everything seemed normal as you finally landed. You opened your eyes, seeing your uninjured body, and glanced at Nero.

“Is this it? Are we safe now?” You asked, unable to believe that you just flew a motorcycle towards the monstrous - looking ship

“Seems like it.” Nero answered you with a bashful smile.

“Look at this!” Griffon exclaimed in both awe and fear as he looked all over the place.

From the outside, Shinano Musashi looked like a huge hunk of demonic - looking metal with strange horns and protrusions. An impossibly huge mechanism that could float on the sky.

It was as if you entered a floating hell.

“What a putrid smell!” The demonic bird complained as he finally let go of your hoodie.

“I actually agree with you, little chicken.” Nero answered as he merely dodged a sticky yellow substance that dripped from the pulsating ceiling.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! YOU UNGRATEFUL, SON OF A - !”

“It’s calling me.”

Both Nero and Griffon looked at you as you got off of Kyrie Eleison and started walking deeper towards the cavern of the Dreadnought.

“Who is calling you?” The bird questioned as he flew towards you.

“I,… don’t know,…” You answered. You, then, turned and glanced back at your two companions, your eyes looking heavy and empty as if in a trance. “It’s calling my name. Can’t you hear it?”

“No!” The young Devil Hunter and the demonic familiar simultaneously answered.

“There it is. I’m,… coming,…” You said monotonously as you looked away from them and continued walking.

“(Y/N), don’t go there alone!” The boy called after you, then clicked his tongue in annoyance. He dismounted and went after you together with the bird.

A few hours of endless walking and various turns deep inside the Dreadnought led you to a slightly different room with less wet flesh and pulsating veins.

As soon as Nero saw this orb, he protectively pulled you away as he took out his Blue Rose and pointed at it.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N) but, I don’t trust this fairy dust.” The boy said as he faced the suspicious - looking orb.

“I don’t think it wants a conversation with you right now, kid.” Griffon told him as he perched at your right arm.

“What happened?!” Griffon squawked as he looked around for potential danger.

“I don’t know but, I have a bad feeling about this,…” the boy answered as he drew The Red Queen in preparation for a battle.

A few moments later, all three of you heard a noise coming from the far end of the room. Your heart suddenly became heavier as a black mass went towards you.

Nero revved his Red Queen, ready to attack the enemy, when, suddenly,…

“Kyrie?” Nero uttered, bewildered to find the woman he loved standing in front of him. “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

Your eyes widened as you noticed the sinister smile on Kyrie’s face.

Something was off!

“Nero! Wait - !”

When he was about to reach out to his lover, a strange kind of light in the form of multiple dark whips emanated from her, throwing the boy towards the other end of the room.

“Griffon, please!” You asked the familiar as you took out your rapier and shield.

“No need to tell me!” The bird answered as it gathered its power for an attack -

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” Nero screamed as he finally stood up.

“Can’t ya see, kid?! This chick’s not yer fling! She - SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!”

“GRIFFON!” You yelled as one of the whips of dark light coming from the creature impersonating Kyrie grabbed one of the demonic avian’s talons and practically threw him away with much force. The bird landed on the ground beside Nero, which left you as the last fighter standing.

“WHAT IN THE SCHTICK?!” Griffon swore, his golden eyes wide with both humor and fear.

“V?!” Nero muttered in confusion. “(Y/N), look out!”

Before you could even attack, the man strode towards you, raised his hand with the metal cane, and brought it swiftly down on your face, wounding you and making you stumble to the ground.

Your hand automatically went up your cheek and felt something moist from it. You looked at your fingers - blood.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU CHEAP V RIP - OFF FROM HELL!” Griffon shrieked as he flew towards the creature. He released a strong electric attack with the full intention of killing the enemy.

However, the “cheap V rip - off” simply dodged it, flawlessly jumping in mid - air and hitting Griffon with his cane with unbelievable strength. The bird landed on the ground with an ugly thud.

“Nobody told me he’s not sissy like his real counterpart!” Griffon quipped as he tried to get up from the ground. But then, the enemy stepped on him and drove his cane deep into his flesh, instantly making him enter his stalemate state.

“Griffon!” You quickly stood up and ran towards the familiar but the enemy whacked you with his cane once more, this time, straight on your back.

“FUCK YOU!” Nero swore as he charged towards the fake V. The enemy noticed this and changed back to Kyrie. The boy did a mistake of stopping in his tracks, making the enemy attack him once more with its dark whips. He came flying towards the other end of the room, feeling fresh wounds and multiple injuries all over his body.

“TAKE THIS!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you whacked your shield on Kyrie’s back, making it stumble. Then, you hastily went to Nero’s side, helping him on his feet.

“We can’t attack it like this!” Nero thundered as he stood up, giving the enemy an angry look for taking the form of a person as pure and as angelic as Kyrie.

You looked at him, knowing exactly what the enemy’s weakness was. “Nero, listen to me. That is not Kyrie - ”

“I know! You don’t have to tell me!”

“But, just now, you hesitated to attack her!”

Nero punched the ground in frustration. You grabbed his arm and made him look up at you.

“We’ll attack it together! Come on, Nero! We have to do this!”

Nero, on the other hand, had enough and slashed the enemy’s torso the moment it turned back to V. It drew back in shock, clutching its wounded stomach, then turned to you two with murder and malice in its now red eyes. It dropped its cane on the ground and changed back to Kyrie, extending one of its whips and pinned Nero to the wall, fatally wounding him.

Just when you were about to attack it, it rapidly went back to V, waved its arms, and summoned multiple blades of blue light that rapidly went down on you like bullets.

That’s when you saw it.

… turning into real flesh,…

His eyes widened at the sight. He forcefully grabbed the dark whip that imprisoned him using his newly formed right arm and almost melted it with the sheer light and warmth it radiated.

“Your tricks are getting too old, you bitch.” Nero quipped as he motioned for the enemy to come closer. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

Grabbing his warm right arm, you spoke, “This is a miracle!”

“I know.” Nero answered as he supported you.

You turned towards the dark, beaten, writhing mass on the ground that was the remnants of Kyrie and limped your way to it with Nero still on your heel.

“Who called me here?” You asked it, foolishly believing that it could somehow shed light to the mystery of the Dreadnought and the voice that was calling you.

You felt a pang of guilt as you looked at it and realized that it was only making you feel that way to defeat you.

With one last sigh of apathy towards the enemy, you took Nero’s Red Queen from him, held it above your head, and plunged it to V’s heart, making it writhe and wriggle even more with pain. Feeling your tears pour out of your tired eyes for this unspeakable creature for exposing your true emotions, you plunged the hot sword even deeper, skewering its heart and reducing the enemy down to its true form - a short and wrinkled creature, about four feet in height, with long twisted claws, sharp red eyes, green skin, and skinny legs. You took the sword out of its body and slashed its head, decapitating it and finally putting an end to it once and for all. The remains of the despicable creature caught on fire and slowly turned into ashes.

You gave the sword back to Nero as you collapsed on the ground.

“So, that’s how Mina felt when she decapitated Dracula.” You sighed as you settled on the ground to make yourself comfortable. “Oh, that’s wrong. That’s no Dracula,…”

“Why Kyrie? Why not somebody else?” The youth asked as he watched the creature’s ashes get flown by the wind.

You sighed, feeling the massive weight on your heart and shoulders. “It only reflects how much you love a person. The enemy used it against you because it knew it would be your biggest weakness.”

Nero looked at you in dismay. “So, you still love him,… V?”

You blinked twice, not sure if your heart could take any more pain. You, then, let out a long sigh of depression. “After all this time. Yes.” You answered, wincing in pain as you touched one bloody wound on your arm.

“Hey, you should fall back now, you can’t fight like this!” The boy pleaded as you let him support you.

However, the moment your skin made contact with his new arm once again, a new set of visions flashed through your mind about him. It was rapid, and yet,…

You only shook your head in disagreement. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine?! What are you - ?”

Nero’s sentence was cut off as he saw, with his own two eyes, how the wounds on your body miraculously healed. He watched the phenomenon in total shock, and when your last wound closed, he could only laugh in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re immortal?!” Nero questioned you.

“And what does that make you?” You asked him as you gave a knowing look on his new right arm.

“Come on, (Y/N). I’m serious here! How did you - ?”

“You never asked how Griffon came to be my familiar.” You cut him off. “And you never asked why my eyes are red. I know Nico told you everything. But, the question is,…” You said, giving him a questioning look as you raised an eyebrow. “… how much do you know?”

The youth could only gulp down in nervousness, his sweat running cold in the process. “Everything.”

“Oh.”

“FUCK YEAH! What? Hey, what did I miss?” Griffon, who was just fully healed and revived, asked as he flew down towards the two of you.

“Nero pulled a rabbit out of his sleeve.” You answered without so much as a fuss.

“Really? Oh, wait. You’re being sarcastic - !”

“Which brings me to my next agenda.” You said as you held up a hand to silence Griffon. “Nero,…”

“What is it, (Y/N)?”

You looked into the youth’s sincere eyes, deciding whether to tell him what you just saw or not, then shook your head.

“Forget I said anything.” You quietly answered as you stood up.

“I know you saw something about me. Tell me!”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy.

Well,…

He had the right to know!

“Listen: do you know Luke Skywalker? The Jedi?” You asked him as you removed your shredded parka, letting Nero take a glimpse of the contract markings on your right arm.

“Luke,… Skywalker? I’m not sure I could follow,…”

“Yeah, the woman likes movies, ya know?” Griffon added as he perched on your arm.

“So, what does this Luke have to do with me?” Nero inquired as he followed you out of the dark and depressing room.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Could you say, that’s impossible!”

“That’s impossible! There, I said it.”

“You’ll say that again later.”

“What do you mean by that? Hey, (Y/N)!”

You turned to glance at the boy. Taking pity on him, you spoke, “You know, you are very fortunate.”

“Uh, thank you, I guess?” Nero replied, scratching his temple in confusion.

“Thank you for everything, Nero.”

“Nah, it’s nothing.”

“Tell Kyrie I said hi.”

“Sure thing.”

“This will be the last time. You’ll never see me again.”

“Okay. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!”

But, you were already gone before he could even ask you that last bit that Nico never told him,…

***

XXII

***

In silence and total darkness, V waited for you to arrive. And during those tense moments, he could only think of Fleminger’s words to him.

“I know it is power you seek, my Lord. She has that power you’re searching for - the power to make yourself invulnerable. The power - to put you back to your former self. Deep within the Dreadnought lies her true heart. But, piercing it would do you no good. Pierce,…

… her body first, then make her power mine. Only then can I defeat the Dreadnought.” V uttered as Shadow morphed into an indistinguishable form before him. “Only then,… can I truly become,…

… whole. Once more.”

At those final words, something huge behind him pulsated, splashing the suffocating room with its sickly crimson glow and casting unearthly shadows before the poet.

V looked down on his hands. His crumbling flesh. His time,… was coming to an end.

And so, he shall soon receive the power,…

“Come to me, my love.” He called for the third time, knowing that you would come to him right away without hesitation,…

***

💙💙💙

***

#devil may cry 5 #nero sparda #i see my future before me #v x reader #v x you #chapter 22 #he who fights #revised

8 notes · View notes

crashdevlin · 6 years

Text

To Hell and Back- 5: Highway to Hell

To Hell and Back Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version). This is an AU of my story ‘Marion’ and is just as epic as that series.

Summary: Marion’s relentless nature gets her in serious trouble.

Pairing(s): Crowley x Marion

Word Count: 3273

Chapter Warnings: descriptions of child abuse, Hell, torture

Marion was seven hours into her twenty hour drive when she got a call from Dean. "Hey. Haven't heard from you in weeks. Tryin' to pull a 'Dad' on me?"

"No. I'm trying to pull a 'Sam'. You know, I was told to stay away." She responded.

She could hear Dean sigh through the phone. "Look, I didn't mean-"

"You did, D., but it's fine, dude. I totally understand. You need to spend time with Sam. He's gone revenge horny and you have to be with him... without me. It's cool. It's been a long time since I've had some peace and quiet, so I'm cool with this. Just tell me that you guys are keeping safe."

"Of course, we are. So, what are you up to? Any interesting hunts on the horizon?"

"No. It's all quiet on this end." She said, soliciting a scoff from the demon in her passenger seat.

"Sammy and I have been pretty busy, actually. A wendigo a couple weeks ago, a kid haunting the families of the boys who killed him after that and we just got a call from Jerry Panowski. Remember him? The, uh, the pol-"

"Poltergeist, yeah. I remember him."

"Yeah, well, there was this plane crash. He says there's somethin' janky about it."

"Oh, a plane crash? Cool, so you're finally gonna try out those Homeland credentials?"

"Maybe." There was a moment before. "How'd you know?"

She rolled her eyes. The amount of attention she paid her brother was ridiculous when confronted with the amount of attention her twin didn't pay her. "Just a good guess, I guess."

"Hey. I, uh, it won't be long, Marion. He's still not sleeping, but I'll get him back on track and we'll be fine. All of us. We'll track down Dad and it'll be like old times."

"Gods, I hope not, Dean." She exclaimed. "If it's gonna be like it was five years ago, I'd be better off just staying gone."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She'd known he was going to be offended.

"Do you honestly not remember, D.? Ten years ago, Dad started ignoring me and got all paranoid about Sam. The shouting matches between them started and he beat Sam more with his words than he ever beat me with his fists. I was an outsider for years before that but once Dad started ignoring me and you went to defending Sam, I was fucking invisible. If you and Sam find Dad and it goes back to the way it was before, then I would be happier alone."

"Dad never hit you." Dean growled. "I wish you wouldn't say that. I didn't see it. Sam didn't see it. We lived in motel rooms, Marion. If Dad hit you, we would've seen."

"You were so far up that man's ass, you could see where his fists were! Fuck, you didn't want to see! And Sammy? Dad was good at keepin' shit from him. Sammy didn't even know where Dad went all the time 'til he was eight years old!" She took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip. "Bobby knew. Bobby knew what Dad was doing. Why do you think he took me in, taught me how to defend myself? It wasn't so that I could hunt, that's for damn sure! Look, you believe whatever the fuck you want, D., but I will not be coming back to the same shit I dealt with for my whole life." She hung up and threw the phone into the backseat.

"Delusional, innit he?" Crowley asked, looking over at her.

Marion tried to fight the angry tears that were trying to pop up in her eyes. "They both had blinders on for that time of our lives, and they always have blinders on when it comes to each other. If nothing else, Crowley, this whole 'staying away from the family' thing is letting me get some shit off my chest that I never would've said in the past."

She wondered, sometimes, if it really was as bad as she remembered it to be. She often feared she might've given herself to Crowley for nothing.

Crowley seemed to sense where her mind had wandered. "I remember watching it happen, once. You were twelve, I believe. Mr. Singer was called on a hunt and sent you back to your father. Dean left to go chase a girl at the arcade down the street and Sam had fallen asleep in bed reading. John came back to the motel, drunk on somethin' cheap. You were watching Scooby Doo, he felt you should have been working on your knife skills. He grabbed your collar and shook you but his drunken fingers lost their grip and you went flying into the TV."

She nodded. "When he pulled me up off the ground, he pulled so hard that he dislocated my shoulder." She whispered.

"Your brothers didn't even ask why you were favoring yer arm or why you were having trouble hearing them with your right ear."

"They sure noticed the TV was busted, though." She chuckled. "You smoked into that biker at the next stop. I've never seen my Dad so bruised and bloody, not from any hunt he's ever been on."

Crowley gave a small smile. "They don't remember anything because they don't want to. But one day, they'll know John for who he really is."

She smiled, brightly, and reached over to pat Crowley's knee. "Thank you for putting an end to that."

"It wasn't me, Darling. That was... that was you. It was your deal."

"You gave me a pretty sweet deal compared to the idiots I mark."

"I'm glad you are finally starting to realize that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley walked into his study while Marion got settled into the room he'd specifically chosen for her. He sighed as a demon wearing an old redneck appeared beside him. "You've got one of my Winchesters." The intruder said, eyes flashing yellow.

"No, I've got mine." Crowley responded. "Wanna read 'er contract?"

"I claimed the Winchester kids before those brats were even born. The only reason you have that contract is because you were able to convince Lilith that she could help you get your numbers up. If it were up to me, that one would be dead." Crowley sighed and made a show of pouring his scotch. He'd heard this spiel many times before. "She's a wild card, Crowley. She could make us or break us, and I find the boys much easier to manipulate. Don't think for a single minute that you really have her under your control. Contract or not, she's a hunter."

"She's not just a hunter, Azazel. She's a Winchester. Instill loyalty and they will follow you to the ends. I've got her as long as her family keeps pushing her away." Crowley smiled, sarcastically. "Wild card: tamed."

"I hope you're right, Crowley."

"Crowley... who's this?" Marion asked, walking into the study and giving a wary look to the other demon in the room. "Thought it was just gonna be you, me, and the hounds."

"Can't help the higher-ups comin' to check on us, love. Marion, Azazel, Marion." Crowley motioned between the two with his scotch glass.

Marion looked at Azazel for a few long moments, her breath coming in short, her heart racing as she fought panic and rage. "I'm not feeling very well. I'm gonna go lay down." She swallowed before retreating from the room. Crowley was following right behind her and, as soon as the door to her bedroom closed, she turned to him with fury. "You've been lying to me! For years!"

Crowley shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"I recognize him! Not the man, not that meat suit, the eyes! Those jaundice-looking, sickly yellow eyes! He's the one who killed my mom! And Sam's girlfriend, right?!" Crowley opened his mouth to respond, but Marion didn't give him time to answer. "Because they got in the way of whatever your bosses have planned for my family and you want me to just sit back and be your fucking house human? What kind of person would I be, what kind of hunter would I be, if I didn't try to warn them?"

Her breath was coming in short as she ranted. "How can I sit here and play pretend like I'm your pet? Sit here, surrounded by the monsters manipulating my family to their own ends and not say anything?"

"Marion, please... don't make me-" Crowley's eyes pleaded but she felt no pity.

"I won't ever stop trying. Any chains you place on me, be they literal or metaphysical, I will break them, and you will have to explain to Lilith why you had to kill me." She shook her head as angry tears started to pour down her face. "You might as well take me to Hell now, Fergus, because I'm never gonna stop."

A hand appeared on her shoulder as the redneck with the yellow eyes showed up behind her. "I thought you'd never ask."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion woke up in a chair, drenched in sweat, with the smell of sulfur pervading her senses. It was such a hot rotten egg smell that it made her gag. "You've brought a live one? How did you even manage?"

"Crowley had her on contract. Didn't even have to engage a reaper. She's here, but no one can know she's here. We don't want her being found. Oh, and you can't let her die. Anything else is fair game, Alistair."

"Can't let her die? She's a human in Hell! Why can't I kill her?"

"Believe me, I feel your pain, but if she dies, she goes up." Azazel jabbed two fingers upward. "And she knows a lot more about our plans than I want Heaven privy to. Just give her some of that potato soup you used to whip up for the Jews, keep the torture less than fatal and we'll be fine. After we finish the plan, then you can take her out."

"So... you're Crowley's bitch." Alistair walked over to her as Azazel disappeared. "It's been a long time since I had to worry about keeping a victim alive. It's definitely a unique challenge down here. So, did you get caught with something you should have left alone? So curious, you humans."

Marion looked at him defiantly but said nothing as he slowly brought a knife to her sweat-soaked clavicle. "I love when they think they can hold out. You think you're strong because you're a hunter, a soldier for your father's cause. In the end, you are just a fragile little girl in a vessel full of pain receptors... and I know just how to activate every single one of them."

"But you won't." She whispered, hopefully.

He smirked. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because..." She swallowed. "You need to keep me alive. If you torture me the way you want, I'll go into shock and I'll die. If I have no hope, no reason to try to hang on... if you put me in a position where I might have any say in whether I live or die... I will choose to die, and you can't let that happen. So... you'll have to go soft on the torture, Al."

"You're right, of course. But I have all the time I need to slowly break every part of you, and unlike every other soul in this place, you won't be made whole again at the next dawn." He dug the knife into her skin, slicing a shallow cut from her clavicle to her navel and smiling as she cried out in agony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion spent much of the next few decades screaming. She was usually alone, but for Alistair. Every couple of years, Azazel would show up to see if she was still alive and to mockingly monitor her mental state. Lilith showed up just twice to taunt her. She never saw Crowley and after a few years, she didn't think she wanted to.

She didn't try to talk, anymore, her voice disused except to scream in Alistair's face. She thought she might have even forgotten how to speak until the day Azazel walked into her cell with a guest in tow. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father... his soul, anyway.

Her voice was hoarse, but she managed a whisper. "Dad?"

"I'm so happy to see this little family reunion! It's not every day we get to see something so touching in Hell." Azazel quipped.

"Marion, what are you- your brothers have been looking for you for months." John's voice was pure confusion, but his words made Marion tear up at the thought that she'd only missed several months on Earth, while she'd spent a century in Hell, alone and in pain.

"It's been quite a bit longer for poor, young Marion, and to answer for her, since I know this is all a bit overwhelming... she fell in with a bad crowd, John. She made friends with a demon, a pissant little crossroads demon." Azazel slammed his hands down on her shoulders and she whimpered. "Between that and her nosy Winchester nature, we had to shove her deep into the Pit so that we could maintain the plan."

"Friends with a demon? What is he talking about, Marion?" John asked, his voice full of accusations.

Marion looked down, dread filling her as she was forced to finally divulge her greatest secret to her father. "He saved my life. Back before Mom, before this hunting bullshit, before any of us knew about monsters." She closed her eyes. "We were at the park when D. and I were four. Dean begged and pleaded and finally convinced you to get us ice cream from the truck. I was more interested in a butterfly, this pretty yellow and blue one. I chased it out of the park and it flew into the street. There was a truck and it would've flattened me, but Crowley pulled me back just in time."

Marion looked up. "He disappeared so fast and I was so young... I thought I imagined it... but then I saw him again after the fire and he kept showing up whenever I was alone and I was alone a lot. He told me when i was nine that he was a demon, but... he'd always been so good to me, so I didn't think it mattered."

"Here's my favorite part, John." Azazel cut in.

"He saved my life on several hunts." Her voice had started coming in stronger, but much more hoarse for the effort. "And when you started hurting me, I knew I could count on him to stop it, but I... I didn't want him to hurt you to get the job done. I knew it was the alcohol and the stress and the sadness you felt when you looked at me and saw Mom. So... to make it stop without hurting you, I made a deal." She gasped out a sob as her body tried to cry but was too dehydrated to manage the tears. "I agreed to help Crowley find people who tried to run from the hounds, and he made it where I'm invisible to you when you're drunk. That's why you never noticed me anymore, because you're always drunk."

"You sold your soul?" John growled.

"No. I sold my life. You sold your soul. Which one did you do it for?"

John looked away. "Dean was dyin'. I had to."

Marion shook her head. She knew more than John thought she did. "Because somebody's gotta stop Sammy if this prick's plan works, right? You would've done it yourself if you thought you could, but no, you leave it to his brother to kill him."

"I just gave up my life and my soul and the only weapon that could take this monster down to save your brother! What else can I give?"

"Nothing now." She said, looking from her father to the demons standing over them. "Just... don't give them what they want! No matter what they do, don't-!" Marion managed to frantically get out half of her warning before Azazel's fist connected with the side of her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion had woken up alone and stayed that way for a while, decades. Alistair had stopped coming to torture her, having found a new Winchester to play with that he didn't have to worry about keeping alive. Gallons of water, buckets of 'potato soup' which was mostly just potato water, and vitamin pills kept showing up with an increased frequency. So when her cell door opened and a form slunk in, she almost felt up to whatever fight was coming.

Crowley turned around from silently closing the cell door and surveyed the scene before him. If he hadn't known he was in the right place, he would never have recognized her. She was seventy-five pounds, if she was soaking wet, and she was covered in dirt and dried blood. On the wall over her head, there were hash marks, seemingly drawn in blood. A quick count told him that there were three hundred and sixty-five of them. More than half of them had a circle around it. Days and years. He heard a shuddering sigh as he stepped closer to her.

"You never came." She whispered and he had to school his face to keep his emotions at bay.

"It took me this long just to find you, Pony." His words were soft, and he used a nickname from her youth to put her at ease. "You think Azazel would just tell me where he put the only thing..." He faltered before continuing. "...worth taking from me?" He walked forward and pulled on her shackles to break the links. "I've spent years trying to find you, couldn't be blatant about it, called in favors from people I've been holding for centuries. Come on, stand up."

She shot a weak glare at him. "Do I look like I can stand?" She whispered.

"Well, if you wanna get out of here, you're gonna find the will to walk, sweetheart."

"Out?"

"Out." He insisted, helping her to her feet and ignoring the way the wounds and scars under his hands made him want to kill Alistair. "Out of Hell. A lot's happened since you've been gone, Pony. Sam died, Dean sold his soul at a crossroads and now the tin soldier who killed Baby Brother is on the way to open the Gates of Hell and let everyone out, which is sure to be a party. Sam and Dean are on their way to stop him, but he's bound to get the gates open for a few minutes, at least. I'm going to draw you a map. The soldier is gonna open that gate in about nine hours." Crowley pulled out a familiar piece of paper and turned it over, drawing a map.

He handed her the map, making sure Marion could see that it was drawn on her contract. "You make it there. You don't get caught. You make it here." He pointed to the far point on the map. "You make it topside and you burn the map. Azazel and Lilith can't bring you back without the clause in your contract saying your body can cross without a Reaper. Get topside, burn the map. Understand?"

She nodded, weakly. "Topside. Burn it."

Crowley ran his thumb across her dirty cheek and sighed. "Good luck, Pony."

She took a shaky step toward the door and sent and unaddressed prayer up to anyone who was listening. "Please, let me get out safe."

#spn #spn fanfic #sister winchester #epic fic #crowley/ofc

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queen-of-deans-booty · 6 years

Text

Bedtime Stories- Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,322

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Another attack under your watch. Another person in the hospital, hurt, because you, Sam and Dean couldn’t figure it out fast enough. You were still clueless as you were yesterday so as hard as you tried, you couldn’t figure out what you were hunting.

You decided to visit the newest victim, Julie Watson, who was attacked in the woods with her boyfriend, Ken, who died. You were walking down the hallway with the brothers when you saw two real deputies walk out of the room Julie was in. You bit your lip, knowing that if they saw you in what you were wearing they might ask questions and that wouldn’t be good for you.

You and the brothers turned to each other and started whispering, to make it look like you were just there to visit someone. The deputies didn’t seem to notice you and walked past you without a second glance. You let out a sigh of relief before breaking apart and walking into Julie’s room. She looked like a mess and you hated that she was in so much pain of losing someone she loved.

You could feel her pain.

Dr. Garrison from when you saw Kyle, was talking with a crying Julie.

“Please, please,” she pleaded.

“Shh. Hey, we need to observe you while the drugs still might be in your system.” Dr. Garrison stated.

“I have to go. I have things to do, arrangements I need to make!”

“It can wait. Now you need to rest. Stay. I'll be back in a few minutes,” Dr. Garrison said, turning around before spotting you. “Ah, Detectives.”

“Dr. Garrison.” Dean nodded as a greeting.

“What the hell is going on here? My whole town is going insane.”

“Trust me, we’ll let you know as soon as we do.” You promised him even though that was a lie. Dr. Garrison nodded and sighed, leaving you and the Winchesters to talk to Julie.

“Hi, Miss Watson? We just need to ask you a few questions.” You said gently, showing her your ID badge, Sam, and Dean doing the same.

“Do we have to go over this again? Now?” You hated how broken she looked.

“We'll try to be brief. Miss Watson, can you tell us how you got away?” Sam said, getting right to the point.

“I didn't eat as much as Ken did, so I wasn't as out of it. And, when the old woman was... carving up Ken, I shoved her, and she fell. Cracked her head on the stove,” she paused to take a few deep breaths, to take this all in. “She's dead, right? I-I killed her?”

“Do you have any idea why she'd do this to you?” Dean asked.

“No! One minute she was a sweet old lady and the next she was, like, a monster.” Julie explained. You bit your lip and knew that Ken and Julie were attacked in the woods. When you replay her words in your head over and over, this story sounds familiar.

Two people, a male and a female, walk through the woods to find a little cottage with a sweet old woman inside, asking them if they’d like to come inside for sweets. They trust her and then she turns on them, eating them both.

You weren’t big on childhood stories but this sounded like… no, it can’t be… that was only a story… right?

“Can you remember anything else?” Sam asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Um, yeah, did you find a little girl there, by any chance?”

“A little girl? At the house?” Sam asked, confused. You were confused by this detail but it still didn’t deter you from your suspicions.

“I thought I saw her outside the window. She, she just disappeared. Just vanished, into thin air.” Julie explained. Sam and Dean looked at each other but you stared at Julie, trying to piece her story together.

“This disappearing girl—what did she look like?” You asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, every detail does,” Sam said from behind you.

“She had this dark, dark hair and really pale skin. She was around eight. She was a beautiful child. It was... odd to see her in the middle of something so horrible.” Julie said with a sigh. You knew she was tired and you nodded, backing up a bit.

“Thank you for your time,” You walked away, Sam and Dean following you out of the room. “I think I might know what is going on here but we need to see that house.”

“You got it,” Dean said, leading the way to the car. Since the crime scene was known to the public, Dean already knew where to go. When you got there, your suspicions were further solidified. You got out and sighed, running your hand through your hair.

“Wanna tell us what you’re thinking, sweetheart?” Dean asked, walking next to you.

“Yeah, in a minute. Let’s just see if there is sulfur anywhere outside before I say anything.” You said, walking off to the right side of the little cottage. Sam and Dean walked the other way and when you met back in front of the house, it turns out all three of you were empty-handed.

“Alright, no sulfur, then let’s try EMF inside,” You suggested, walking inside the crime scene. It was still a little bloody but your theory was looking pretty good at what was going on. Sam was waving the EMF around, trying to figure out if the little girl was a spirit or not.

“Anything, Sam?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, it's going nuts. When I went over here by the window... There's definitely a spirit here.”

“Who stood outside the crime scene and watched,” Dean commented.

“Looks like,” Sam shrugged.

“Okay, here is my theory,” you said, making the brothers look at you. “Fairy tales.”

“Oh that's—that's nice. You think about fairy tales often?” Dean teased you.

“I’m serious Dean,” You said.

“Wait, I know which one you’re talking about,” Sam said, taking a step to you.

“Would someone like to enlighten me?” Dean asked, hating the feeling of being out of the loop.

“Dean, come on. A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods? An old lady tries to eat them? That is Hansel and Gretel. Now that I think about it, Kyle and his brothers, they were construction workers. They built houses. They were attacked by the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Three Little Pigs.” Dean voiced your thoughts.

“Exactly.”

“Wait, I thought these things ended happily?” Dean asked, confused.

“Well, the newer versions fit for children and bedtime stories, yes. But the originals? Hell no,” You said, making Sam take over.

“See, the Grimm Brothers’ stuff was kind of the folklore of its day. It was full of sex, violence, and cannibalism.” Sam added to your thought, making Dean sigh.

“So, you think the murders are uh, what? A re-enactment? That's a little crazy.”

“Crazy as what? Demons and ghosts and shit?” You pointed out.

“Touché. Then how is the creepy little girl involved?”

“Um... Well, she must've been here for a reason. I'm willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too.” Sam said.

“We gotta do research now, don't we?” Dean groaned and you and Sam both nodded. He sighed and finished up with what he was doing at the cottage before walking back to the car to head to the library. Now that you knew what you were dealing with, the question now is how can you stop it?

You, Sam and Dean split up to figure out what exactly you were dealing with. You went with Dean to the library and Sam went around, going to police stations and trying to see if he could uncover anything. You hoped that Sam was having good luck with this because you and Dean spent the past six hours in the library, coming up with jack shit.

“God damn it! I am going out of my mind!” Dean growled in frustration, closing the book he was reading.

“Don’t worry, we will figure it out. We always figure it out. Let’s take a break and go see if we can find Sam.” You suggested and he agreed with you. You shut down the computer you were using and put the books back where you found them before exiting the library.

You found Sam walking towards you guys and when you met, you knew he found something but you didn’t know if it was good news or bad news.

“So?” Sam spoke first.

“We checked every record they had. Found the usual amount of violent childhood deaths for a town this size.” Dean informed him and you three began walking to the park that was across the street.

“Okay,” Sam sighed.

“Wanna know how many how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin?” Dean asked his brother.

“Zero.”

“Zero! You wanna know how many how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing? Right again. Zip. zilch, nada. Tell me you've got something good because we’ve totally wasted the last six hours.” Dean said with a sigh. You three walked into the park and strayed from the trail.

“Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s.”

“She got a thing for fairy tales?” You asked Sam.

“Nah, trances. See, she'd go into these unconscious states where, um, get this, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits.”

“A ghost puppet master.” You said.

“You think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolfboy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?” Dean asked.

“Could be. You know, kind of like spirit hypnosis or something.”

“Trances I get, but fairy tale trances? That's bizarre even for us.” Dean said, still skeptical. You and the brothers stopped walking when you found a bullfrog in front of you, croaking as if it wasn’t bothering anyone.

“Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal.” Sam said with an eye roll, looking at his brother.

“Alright, maybe it is fairy tales, totally messed-up ones, but fairy tales. Hey, you wanna be the princess that kissed the frog?” Dean joked, nudging your shoulder.

“Hell no.” You immediately said, looking away from the frog and to Dean.

“Hey. Check that out.” Sam said, pointing to a house across the park. You and Dean looked in that direction and didn’t notice what he was pointing at until you saw a pumpkin sitting on the porch.

“Yeah? So, what, it’s close to Halloween,” Dean said, walking with you and Sam over to the house.

“You remember Cinderella? With the pumpkin that turns into a coach, and the mice that become horses?” Sam pointed out.

“Dude, could you be more gay?” Dean asked and Sam gave him the biggest bitch face Sam has ever given him.

“Sam, this is just a pumpkin. I mean, I’m not dismissing your theory or anything but how can you go off of just a pumpkin?” You asked, ignoring Dean’s earlier comment.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Sam said, walking to the front door and got on his knees. He started to pick the lock and you and Dean blocked him from anyone that could see him. He got the door open soon and you walked in behind them, shutting the door.

“Well who knows, maybe you'll find your fairy godmother?” Dean teased his brother. Sam rolled his eyes and Dean smirked, knowing it bothered him. You split up from the brothers, walking to the kitchen, on alert for anything that might happen in the house.

Dean and Sam split up as well, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. Suddenly, you heard a noise come from inside the kitchen and you took your gun that you always had from behind your back and held it in front of you. Sam and Dean joined you when they heard the noise as well.

“Help I'm in here!” A female voice said from inside the kitchen. You opened the door with your gun raised and saw a teenage girl handcuffed to the oven.

“It's okay. We're here, we're here. We got you.” Sam said, immediately rushing to the girl to help her. He took out his lock pick kit to unlock the cuffs.

“You have to help me. She's a lunatic.” The teenage girl panted.

“What happened?” Dean asked while you checked the kitchen out for anything wrong.

“My stepmom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me. Chained me up.”

“Where is she now?” Sam asked as he worked.

“I don’t know.” You sighed and looked out the kitchen door to see a little girl with black hair and pale skin looking at you.

“Dean, Sam,” You said, catching the attention of the brothers. They saw the little girl, just as she was walking away. You followed her, keeping your gun out. This must be the little girl who Julie was talking about earlier. You walked into the living room where you saw the little girl go but she walked out of sight. You rolled your eyes, not in the mood for this bullshit.

You walked through the house, looking for the little girl. When you walked into the dining room and didn’t see her, you knew something was up. You heard a creak come from behind you and you turned around, seeing the little girl there, staring at you.

“Who are you?” You asked but didn’t receive an answer from her. She continued to start at you until she started flickering like a spirit does. She vanished from sight, leaving a red apple in her place. You looked at it and picked it up, knowing what this meant.

Red apple meant Snow White. The wicked step-mother poisoned the apple which in turn, poisoned Snow White. Was this little girl poisoned by her mother?

Series Rewrite Junkies:

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writings-andstuff · 7 years

Text

“Don’t Objectify Me” (Dean x Reader)

The first of two for tonight and then I’ve got to study for my finals tomorrow.

Happy Reading!

Words: 1971

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Excessive cuteness

Excerpt: He huffed again but stayed silent. The three of you, with the help of Cas back at the bunker, were investigating a string of homicides in Oklahoma. Three people had been killed inside of a week, but that hadn’t even been the strangest part. The bodies hadn’t just been mutilated, they’d been practically decimated. Their chests had been ripped open and their lungs had been removed. It was positively gruesome.

Forever Tags: @fairchild21

Tagging: @beccaanne814-blog

You paced back and forth waiting for Dean to come out of the house of one of the victims. Of course, you couldn’t go in with him—you were the watchdog. You were always the watchdog. Dean was always the one putting himself in the line of fire, and you were always just...watching.

“Easy kid,” Dean said, coming up behind you. “You’re gonna wear a hole in the concrete.”

You gasped and hit him in the shoulder, hard. “Oh my god, you idiot! You scared the crap out of me. I almost pulled my gun on you.”

Dean gave you a sly smirk and walked around the side of the Impala, leaning over the top for a second to talk to you. “Well, don’t do that. Don’t wanna have to tell my brother that my girlfriend made me Swiss cheese because I scared her.”

“Then don’t scare me,” you shot back, sliding into the front seat of the Impala and waiting for Dean to follow suit. After he did, he put the keys in the ignition and the car rumbled to life. “So, did you find anything? Hex bags? Sulfur?”

“Nada,” he grumbled. “But I still say it’s a demon. There’s just nothing about the killings that screams witchy business to me.”

“‘Witchy business’?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow. He started off down the road. “I don’t know, Dean. I gotta stick with Sam on this one. Witches seem to be the most likely culprit.”

Dean huffed. “I thought you were supposed to side with me.”

“Only when you’re right,” you countered. “And anyways, if you’re right, you get bragging rights against not one, but two people. But you’re not right.”

He huffed again but stayed silent. The three of you, with the help of Cas back at the bunker, were investigating a string of homicides in Oklahoma. Three people had been killed inside of a week, but that hadn’t even been the strangest part. The bodies hadn’t just been mutilated, they’d been practically decimated. Their chests had been ripped open and their lungs had been removed. It was positively gruesome.

You and Sam were thinking a witch because, contrary to what Dean had said, it screamed ‘witchy business’ to the two of you. But Dean was having none of it. He was sure it was the work of some demon just looking for humans to kill. The only problem with his theory was that removing a specific organ from those bodies seemed like more of a ritual than an MO.

The two of you met Sam back at the motel room to find out what he’d learned from the bodies in the coroner’s morgue.

When you got back, Sam was sitting on the edge of one of the beds with his tie and suit jacket stripped off. He looked up at the two of you as you entered the room and shut the door. He looked almost green, which was odd since Sam was usually the most composed and least queasy around dead bodies, especially the gory ones.

“I’m guessing it was as gross as we thought it would be,” you said, giving him a small pat on the back as you passed the bed to sit in a chair by the small table. Dean dumped himself down on the other bed and began undoing the buttons on his flannel so that his black T-shirt underneath could be seen.

“Worse,” Sam grumbled.

“Well,” Dean turned to look at you and Sam. “We got nothing at the vic’s house. That was the last of the three and still nothing.”

Sam gulped down air before speaking. “Well, there were no hex bags in the bodies.”

You shook your head. “Okay, so let’s go down the list—”

“The very short list,” Dean put in.

“Can’t be a demon since there was no sulfur,” you said, ignoring him. “Not a witch, because there were no hex bags, and nothing to suggest witchy activity.”

Dean smirked. “‘Witchy activity?’”

You threw a plastic fork at him from last night’s take-out dinner of cheese burgers and fries. He frowned down at where it hit his thigh.

“You see this, Sammy,” Dean said to his brother. “Before she threatened to poke holes in me, now she’s trying to spear me with plastic utensils.”

Sam frowned and looked over at you. “You threatened to shoot him?”

“He scared me,” you told him plainly.

Sam nodded as if this was all the clarification he needed and turned back to Dean. “Shouldn’t’ve scared her, Dean.”

Dean picked up the fallen fork and threw it at Sam who expertly dodged it. His color was starting to return to normal, which reminded you of your list. You sighed.

“Okay, focus guys,” you said. “No ectoplasm means no vengeful spirit. No dead family members or friends who would want them dead, which means no ghost. I believe this is what the kids call an impasse.”

“Nope,” Dean sighed. “Think that’s just you, sweetheart.”

“There’re more forks here, Dean,” you warned. “I wouldn’t push your luck.”

He put his hands up in a sign of surrender.

“Wait,” Sam said in his ‘I think I’ve got something’ voice. “What if it is a ghost?”

You didn’t have time to respond because Sam was already up and sitting at the table across from you in front of his laptop. He tapped away as Dean came to stand behind you, one hand on the back of your chair and the other on the tabletop.

“Care to fill us in, Sammy?” Dean said.

Sam kept typing. “Just think about it. We don’t really know that much about ghosts. We know that if they stay long enough, they go vengeful. We know that when they expend lots of energy, they leave behind ectoplasm. We know that they can haunt things, people, and even places. Sometimes they don’t know what they’re doing, sometimes they do. The truth is, we don’t really know all that much about how much ghosts can do.”

You frowned. He was right, of course. Dean had once caught a ghost virus and it almost stopped his heart. On their first hunt together, Sam and Dean had encountered a woman in white who had almost killed Sam. Even Bobby had been attached to his whiskey flask after he’d died. You’d seen an entire building haunted by one ghost alone, and you’d seen one dilapidated house haunted by many ghosts.

But there was one problem with his theory.

“Yes,” you said, “but we’ve never seen ghosts do this. Not since the breaking of the seals to free Lucifer. The witnesses.”

“Aha!” Sam exclaimed, flicking his computer screen. You and Dean moved to the other side of the table to inspect it.

“Uh, care to explain this to us normal folk, Sammy?” Dean asked, pointing to the screen. It was a picture of a thin man in his late fifties maybe, wearing a porkpie hat and a tweed jacket.

“We were looking for a link to the victims, here’s our link,” Sam pointed to the man on the screen. “Meet Professor Ike Weizmann. He was an Anatomy and Physiology professor at the university in Norman. It says that last year he suffered a severe asthma attack in his lab during a lecture and died. Apparently, his family filed a lawsuit against the board of the University last year because they thought the attack was caused by mold in the walls that went left unchecked. A week before the court date, all of the members of the board quit and the school was closed for an entire month before they were replaced.”

Dean licked his bottom lip. “Please tell me that there were only three members on that board.”

Sam shook his head and clicked onto another page on his laptop. He pointed to a list of people. “There are two more: Lisa Warren and Keith Garfield. Both live in the area.”

You shook your head. “Based on the pattern, it seems like he’s been killing them every twenty-four hours. But, I don’t get it—why wait until a year after his death to come and get his vengeance?”

Sam turned in his chair to face the two of you, shaking his head. “I have no idea. Maybe he was waiting for the right time? Who knows. But I’ve got the addresses for both of the other board members.”

“How much time until the next murder?” Dean asked you.

“Um,” you did some quick math in your head. “Well, McCreedy was killed somewhere around eleven last night, they think. It’s eight now. So, three hours, give or take.”

“We’ll split up,” Sam said. “Dean, you take Keith and I’ll take Lisa. He’s only going to kill one tonight, and they live on opposite sides of town so—”

“So whoever finds Professor Bowler Hat,” Dean cut in, “is on their own until backup comes.”

“I don’t like this plan,” you said. “Wait, uh, what is the plan, exactly? Specifically, what am I doing while one of you is almost dying?”

“Nobody’s gonna die,” Dean assured you.

Sam nodded his agreement. “You’re going to go to the cemetery in the middle of town. According to the archives, Weizmann was buried. So you’re gonna burn the remains.”

You could see it in Dean’s clenched jaw and tight shoulders that he didn’t like you going on your own, but he also knew that you could handle yourself. You were no damsel in distress, and he knew that. Nevertheless, you laced your fingers through his. “I’ll be fine. Just burning bones. Nothing new.”

He sighed. “I know. Alright,” he looked at Sam. “I’ll drop you off by Lisa, then Y/N by the cemetery, and then I’ll head over by Keith.”

“If I burn the bones,” you said, “you guys should still stay there until after eleven, just to be sure.”

“Alright,” Sam said. “Let’s get ready and go. The faster we get this over-with, the faster we get back to the bunker.”

The rest of the salt ’n burn went off without a hitch. You were thrown into a tree, but you managed to light fire to the bones before the ghost killed anyone. Of course, Dean overreacted about the head injury you had.

Cas met the three of you in the war room when you returned the next day. He offered to heal you, but you refused, much to Dean’s dismay. You let Dean clean the cut at your hairline, though, and listened to him go on a tangent about how he should’ve been there with you.

You waited patiently until he was done talking to tell him your piece about how you were fine and the three of you had had a job to do. Burning the bones just happened to be yours. All three of you had an equally dangerous job.

As it was, Ike only attacked you because you were holding matches above his open casket. It was to no avail on his end, though, because you managed to burn them anyways. Dean came over after and helped Sam put the dirt back over the grave, having you wait in the Impala.

“I still should’ve been there with you,” Dean stood before you, his arms crossed and his jaw set.

“Dean, its just a cut,” you told him. “I’m fine. But I would really like to sleep for the next day.”

His features softened, but only slightly. “It’s late. C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

You grinned at him and hopped off of the library table. “Yes, please.”

“But you gotta sleep on your own pillow,” he said with a small smile, roping his arm around your waist, though you were fine to walk and had told him so several times.

“Why?” you whined. “You’re such a comfy pillow.”

“Don’t objectify me.”

207 notes · View notes

roxy-davenport · 7 years

Text

Tricks-O-Matic

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Beta: @raspberrymama

Word Count: 2,653

A/N: This was written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing’s SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge- Week 4 with the prompts, “You’re supposed to talk me out of it,” and a gif of a couple dancing in a laundromat. Fluff and humor, just go with it trust me.

Also on AO3

You huffed out a breath. You hated doing laundry. It was the bane of your existence, so you always waited until the last minute when you were down to your last panty to do it. You literally couldn’t wait any longer.

You put your laundry in a shopper and wheeled it down the road to the laundromat ignoring the honks directed at you. Of course the bunker’s washer and dryer would break just when the boys left and gave you mountains of dirty clothes. Oh, what fun.

You sighed loudly when you were hit in the face with intensely hot air. Not only was it summer but the Laundromat was even hotter, if that were even possible. Who needs a sauna when you can just do laundry?

You slowly wheeled your mountain of clothes into the laundromat rather awkwardly might I add, nearly tipping over your entire mountain of clothes on the way in. God forbid someone else would be here to help open the door for you.

In a way, having the Laundromat to yourself was kind of nice, if not slightly creepy. You imagined most people would be at jobs at ten in the morning, not half asleep needing to do laundry after discovering they were down to the last panty. Talk about a rude awakening.

You stepped in front of a washer yawning, happy to be doing busy work because doing nothing in the bunker but waiting for the boys to come back didn’t sound fun. In fact, if you were being honest, you had no idea what to do with yourself for a week alone in the bunker. Hello, boredom.

You quickly put everything in several washers spreading out a little bit as you slowly meandered over to the sorry excuse for chairs that looked as if they’d break the second you sat on them and even worse they were all bright orange to boot. They really matched the yellow wallpaper.

You were desperate for a distraction right now from the boring day you were bound to have. You looked at the magazines. As you guessed they were months behind, nothing good.

And that’s when the TV turned on, no remote in sight. A note fell off the TV as if a wind blew it but there was no wind. The note said, “Broken.” That made your spidey tense tingle. What the ever-living fuck was going on. You whirled around looking for the culprit. You didn’t smell sulfur or feel a cold chill run down your spine. You walked around the laundromat finding no cold spots. Okay, this was creepy. What was going on?

As if in response to your apprehension, the newscaster on the television program seemed to address your concerns. “No need to be afraid, sweet cheeks,” the news announcer said winking at you. There was only one person that called you that and the newscaster looked nothing like him. Eerie. The newscaster actually looked like an underwear model. That guy missed his calling.

The emblem behind him said “Fenrir News.” Now that’s an unusual name. You were starting to have a distinct idea who might be doing this. The news announcer winked at you as if he knew that you knew.

The news announcer was still looking at you clearly and not the teleprompter. “Before we get into the local news, there’s something I have to say: There is an epidemic sweeping our country with few solutions available. An epidemic of boredom. It’s a horrible condition that leaves the intended victim without the ability to have fun. I know, that sounds truly horrible. The victim is so bogged down by the inability to come up with or do anything fun they just lie there, frustrated. Take this amazing, beautiful woman watching. She’s stuck in a laundromat desperate for a little adventure. It kills me to know just how bored she is and even more upsetting that they didn’t take her on the hunt. That her besties benched her because she’s recovering from a wound on the last hunt. Not cool, right? Her besties sentenced her to a week of boredom. Sounds like they should have some payback when they return. Anywho, Y/N this one’s for you.”

There was white noise and a blank screen for only a moment when what looked like a commercial came on.

A woman with a huge smile on her heavily makeuped face waved at the studio audience.

“Hello there fellow hunters. Do you find yourself struggling to get out hunting stains? You try and try but you just can’t wash out the blood and monster guts? Am I right? Mmmhmm. I know. I’ve been there. It’s terrible but don’t worry I have the solution. Here is Tricks-O-Matic. And it really does the trick. You wanna see?”

She holds up what looks like Dean’s shirt, the raspberry plaid shit you could have sworn you just put in the washer. You walked over to the washer and looked for the red shirt not finding it. Tons of greens, blues and blacks but no dark red plaid shirt. Huh.

The woman in the commercial poured a very bright blue substance on it that had the consistency of paint. You shuddered to think what’s going to happen and how you would explain it to Dean. The second she put the substance on the shirt; she dunked the plaid shirt in water. Then she wrung it on a little and then held it up like a champion belt at a wrestling tournament.

Of course the shirt was wet but there was no mistaking that the stain was in fact gone.

“That’s right. One, two and gone. No matter the stain, Tricks-O-Matic will get it out. Tough on stains, gentle on your skin. So next time you’re leaving for a hunt remember Tricks-O-Matic. It really does the trick.”

You chuckled at that. Ridiculous the levels you boyfriend would go to, to entertain you but you had to admit, it was working. The commercial was clever and he did get out those monster guts for you that you were sure the washer never would. Dean would be quite impressed with you.

The catch-phrase was pretty awesome. Tricks-O-Matic indeed.

The TV went blank again, white noise coming out of it for only a few seconds until a soap opera come on. The title flashed across the screen, “Angelic Lover.” Oh how very subtle right? That was your boyfriend, the archangel of subtle.

A woman ran into the screen, her eyes puffy as if she was crying. “Luke?”

A man that looked just as tall as Sam came onto the screen. “You should be with the angel,” he said in a gravely voice.

“What? “You’re supposed to talk me out of it.” The woman said in a hitch-pitched and rather nervous tone. “You’re supposed to make me marry you. That’s what our parents want. You’ve lusted after me for years, now desperate to claim me as yours but you will never have me.”

“How can you be sure I’m Luke?” the man asked with a quirked eyebrow smiling at her.

“Who are you then?” the woman asked apprehensively as she slowly stepped away from him.

“Can you not recognize the man you love? I am your angel, my darling,” the man confirmed, his arms outstretched.

“But you -.”

“Have the face of your enemy, I know. I got a face transplant to break into the mansion and get past the guards but it is I, my love. I killed your enemy. He is no more.”

The man took off his face revealing a completely different man. The studio audience went wild. As did the woman. She fainted into his arms, waking up a minute later. He looked down at her adoringly.

“It is you,” she said in a soft voice.

“It is me,” he repeated.

She looked at him again, growing nervous. It couldn’t be. She slowly stepped away from the man. “No. That’s not possible. We can’t be together. I’m a human. You can’t possibly love me.”

“But I do.”

“You do?” she asked incredulously.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“But what of my friends?” Gasp. “They…They…will not let us be happy. My father will never rest until you are dead. You must leave. We can never be together. We’re from two different worlds. We don’t belong together.”

“But we could.”

“Could we? Could we really?”

“Yes.” The man then grabbed the woman and kissed her passionately on the lips. She swooned and her legs fell out from under her before she fainted again into his arms.

You rolled your eyes. “A tad dramatic, no?”

The TV went blank again and then what looked like men playing a game of basketball outside came into focus. One of the players stopped playing and stepped up to the camera. The rest of the players were fuzzy and out of focus.

“Dramatic is better than being bored and you know what else is better than being bored? Taking twice daily Baldur. It cures the boredom right up so I can get back to doing what I love doing like playing ball.”

The commercial faded out as the men played basketball in the background. A list of side effects came onto the screen. Some caught your attention such as; intensive farting, love of anchovies, need for kinky sex, need for the Trickster, a deep yen to prank others, acid reflux, vomiting negativity, becoming more awesome, so awesome in fact that you can’t hang out with people wearing plaid. That had you laughing. You were sure who it was now.

You glanced at the washer. Time to add more soap. The TV went blank as you put more soap in. You had to admit that this was making you happy and a lot less bored. You loved being with Gabriel and was hoping he would be able to visit you when the boys were away. The silence was deafening and you missed his assortment of entertainment. Sure enough, the second you sat back down, the TV came on again.

A black and white program came on called, “Tricked,” but the actors looked like the same ones that were on the TV show “Bewitched.”

“My friends will be here soon. No powers okay. You promised.”

“Of course I’ll be on my best behavior,” the man stated holding his hands up.

“Why don’t I believe that?” she said in a grumpy tone.

Smirking he replied, “I don’t know. I have an incredibly believable face.”

“Mmm hmmm.” The woman opened the door and she found two dogs on the doorstep.

“Your friends weren’t already dogs? Maybe they never showed and they sent dogs instead? Strays?”

The woman turned around and glared at him. He simply shrugged. “It beats them wearing plaid all the time. This is a new look for them and besides, they always ruin my fun and all I want is to-“

The screen went blank again. Talk about a cliffhanger.

An announcer came on waving at a studio audience that was clapping wildly. “Welcome to Dance Wars: Laundromat. We have Y/N and Gabriel, returning champions. Can they keep the throne? You’ll have to tune in and watch.”

You looked at the TV confused. You felt a shift in the air behind you and then what felt like a gentle kiss placed on the back of your neck. You jumped and he laughed a warm laugh. His breath fanned over the back of your neck.

“Did you really not guess it was me? I mean I thought I was being pretty obvious. I’m kind of offended. Who else would dedicate all this time to making you smile? Fenrir and Baldur? Hello? Trickster? Loki myth.”

You smirked. “I knew it was you from the beginning. From those clues.”

“Aren’t you clever cupcake?” Gabriel grabbed you around the waist, rutting against you, pressing his hard cock against your ass. “How am I doing about making your day better? I thought I heard laughter and I definitely saw smiles.”

“You’re doing a wonderful job as always.”

Gabriel twirled you around and brought you back into his waiting arms and then out of nowhere swing music appeared and you danced around the laundromat.

A customer tried to come in to wash their clothes and saw you both dancing. He tried the door but it was locked. You gave Gabriel a look.

“This is our time,” he pleaded with you.

You rolled your eyes. “We have all day; and if you’re free, all week. Let the poor man wash his clothes?”

Gabriel sulked.

On the next twirl, you spun away from him, unlocking the door and spinning back into his arms. Gabriel’s frown only intensified. He dipped you and gently ran his hand down your face to your collarbone. You let out a shaky breath at the tender touch. He righted you and grabbed you closer to him as he kissed you passionately. You chose to ignore the customer who looked at you both uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Gabriel implored.

You shrugged, suddenly feeling silly. You should have called. “You’re an angel. One that’s trying to keep a low radar and you have angel stuff to do that is definitely more important than preventing a human from being bored.”

“No. Okay yes. I am trying to hideout. Dear old Dad and Luci need to think I’m dead. I plan on staying out of the whole epic battle. And yeah there may be some angel tasks and just desserts I have to attend to from time to time, but you and only you are the most important thing to me sweet cheeks. No angel business is more important than the love of my life. Anytime you want me, please let me know. If I could, I would never let you go. But I know you love the Winchesters and you hunt. I know but I would want to be with you every second, if I could. And hello Trickster here: curing boredom is kinda my speciality. “

“Can you forgive me?”

“Always.”

The random dude in the laundromat was eyeing you two weirdly. Did he hear your conversation or did he just see the massive amounts of PDA? Whatever the reason, you pushed on Gabriel’s chest to release you from his arms. He disconnected with you slowly after a lingering glance. You slowly took out mountain of clothes from all the washers. Gabriel proceeded to grumble behind you.

Gabriel whispered into your ear, “That guy there will never know. He’s not even watching us right now. Why can’t I just snap my-.”

“He’s giving us side-eye. He is most definitely still watching us. Why not show him you have magical abilities? Why could possibly go wrong?”

“I’m sensing sarcasm in your tone.”

You smirked back at your boyfriend. “Hey, I have an idea - why don’t you just turn him into a dog?”

“Don’t give me any ideas.”

You shook your head at your boyfriend and slowly left the laundromat. Gabriel happily held open the door for you. The second that you were clear, no one on the road and the man from the laundromat couldn’t see you, Gabriel snapped his fingers and you got back to the bunker with all the clothes there, clean, dry and in everyone’s respective drawers. You looked down to see the both of you naked.

“I might have another idea on what to do to cure boredom.” Gabriel said in a playful tone

“Do you now?” you asked in a seductive tone.

“How long are the boys away?”

“A week.”

Gabriel’s smile was huge. “We could fit in a lot in a week.”

“Well, what are you waiting for tiger? Come get your girl.” He pounced on you like a lion and you squealed and giggled when he tackled you to the bed. A week with Gabe never sounded better.

Tagging

Forevers @purgatoan @killerofthesouth @charliebradbury1104 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @chelsea072498 @everyday-supernatural-af @kalliravenne @toogardenenthusiast @winchesterprincessbride @one-shots-supernatural @take-me-tonirvana @hellsmother @ellen-reincarnated1967 @faegal04 @deals-with-demons @mamaredd123 @atc74 @hamartiamacguffin @donnaintx @love-kittykat21 @impala-dreamer @evansrogerskitten @lucifer-in-leather @hiswickedkitty @riversong-sam @rosie-winchester

Gabe peeps @manawhaat, @bkwrm523, @whispersandwhiskerburn, @deathtonormalcy56, @for-the-love-of-dean, @jelly-beans-and-gstrings, @deansleather, @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname, @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @mrswhozeewhatsis, @ilovedean-spn2, @wi-deangirl77, @deanwinchesterforpromqueen, @fandommaniacx, @revwinchester, @oldfashioncdvillain, @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell, @castieltrash1, @mysaintsasinner, @bohowitch, @vintagevalentinexx, @thinkwritexpress-official @deals-with-demons, @bowtiesandapplepie, @itsemmyb, @crzcorgi, @deerlululucy, @mrsjohnsmith, @growleytria, @sleep-silent-angel @walkingencyclopediaoffandom, @thegleegeneration, @babypieandwhiskey @supermoonpanda, @sis-tafics, @kittenofdoomage, @lilyoflothlorien, @ferferelli, @ackleslaugh, @curliesallovertheplace, @trenchcoats-and-bees, @katnharper, @winchester-princess @notnaturalanahi, @skybinx-blog, @thebunkerismyhome, @feelmyroarrrr, @tia58, @winchesterswoonathon, @castiels-forbidden-angel, @jotink78 @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave, @wayward-mirage, @hexparker, @alangel1895

96 notes · View notes

winchester-sisters-imagines · 7 years

Text

Our Baby Girl - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 1,463

Forever Tag List: @capandbuck @bummblebeeblue @sarbear429 @bea789 @xtina2191 @lovethefandomsuniverse @evyiione @trustnobodyshootfirst @motleymoose @thegoodhunterrr5 @bookaddictedhedgehog @gurlwitafro @magicalsis11 @aquabrie @fanboyswhereare-you @percussiongirl2017 @dionnemaria @sherlockslove112 @sesshomaru-lover @freaksforthewin @neishax-butler @hi-pixzza @cookee50 @captainidjit @imasunflower13 @clairedelalune @swimmer-sarcasm @lovelife-tothefullest @dylcole @almightyunnie @winchesterswantmypie

Author’s Note: I hope you all like it! I literally just got done writing it, so if there are any mistakes that is why. I’ll eventually fix those. Also, the tag list is still open!. - Haley xx

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“Where did you find it?” I asked Cas.

“On the windowsill,” Cas said, pulling me over to Charlie’s window. “I didn’t notice it at first because there’s no smell.”

I opened Charlie’s bedroom window and saw the yellow powder of sulfur scattered around, but like Cas said, there was no smell.

After Sam had called me back saying that he and Cas found sulfur, Dean booked it back to Lebanon as fast as we could. Sam was all tore up over losing Charlie. As soon as we pulled into the garage, Sam started apologizing to us. I pulled him into a hug and told him that I know he would never let anything happened to her and demons are just nasty sons of bitches.

“What kind of demon can mask the smell of sulfur?” I asked Cas.

He shrugged and opened his mouth to answer my question, when he was cut off. “Any demon wiling to learn that power.”

We turned around and saw Crowley standing in the doorway. “I don’t have time to deal with you,” I said. “My baby is missing.”

“I know, and my deep apologizes towards your family.”

“Fuck off, Crowley,” I said. “Dean’s downstairs, go bother him.”

“So, you don’t want to know the information I have about the demon who took your child? I guess I’ll just be on my way, then,” Crowley said, turning around in the doorway and making his way down the hall.

“Hold on!” I yelled, going after him.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked.

Crowley rolled his eyes, “Would I ever lie to you?”

“Yes,” we all said in unison.

Crowley told us no matter what rank a demon was, that it could learn powerful magic. This one learned how to remove the normal rotting smell of sulfur to hide that the demon had been near my child. My little Charlie. She’s her daddy made over, with her bright green eyes and strawberry blonde hair.

“But why?” Sam asked. “Why would a demon still Charlie?”

“Because she’s a Winchester,” Crowley said. “Don’t you all get it? They’re using Charlie to get you.”

“You’re going to help us find that son of a bitch that took my little girl,” Dean said, pointing at Crowley. “Or I’ll kill you.”

“Y/N, control your squirrel.”

“Crowley,” I sighed. “Please. That’s my daughter. You’re a parent. You would do anything for Gavin.”

The room went silent as Crowley fidgeted with his coat sleeves. “All right. I’ll hunt down the bastard and tell you all as soon as I know.”

Two hours passed before Crowley popped back to The Bunker. I had fallen asleep in Charlie’s bed, holding onto her favorite stuffed animal. It was a stegosaurus that Cas had picked out for her on our last job. The scales on the back where baby blue and the eyes were beady and black. Charlie loves this stuffed animal more than any other toy she’s gotten.

I woke up to Dean cupping my shoulder, shaking me gently. I see the foggy outline of everyone else hind him as I rub the sleep out of my eyes.

“What?”

“I’ve found her,” Crowley said, over Dean’s shoulder.

I push myself off the bed, “Where?” I asked him. “Where did your asshole demon take my baby?”

Crowley sighed and looked at Dean. “You all aren’t going to like this.”

“Stop dicking around and tell us,” Dean said.

“Well, for one thing, she’s not in America anymore.”

My hand slipped around Dean’s waist and grabbed the gun he always kept between his skin and his waistband. I pulled it out and pointed it directly at Crowley. “You wanna repeat that?” I said.

“You cannot shoot, Crowley,” Sam said, grabbing the gun away from me. “Y/N, I know you’re upset. We all are, but trying to kill Crowley won’t help us.”

My hands started to shake. Tears rolled down my face. “You take me too her,” I whispered, walking up to Crowley. “You take me to her now or I swear to God, you will never see the light of day again.”

“Where are we?” Dean asked. I leaned against him. Using Crowley and Cas to pop us to wherever Charlie was at was the worst decision ever. My head was spinning and Dean wrapped his arms around me to keep me from falling over.

“Otorohanga,” Cas said. “Otorohanga, New Zealand.”

I almost threw up.

“Do we know exactly where she’s at?” Sam asked.

“Of course,” Crowley said, taking the lead. “Just follow me.”

Otorohanga was beautiful and would have been more enjoyable if the circumstances were different. The grass was so green, the sky a perfect shade of light blue, and you could even see mountains off in the distance. We followed the worn path til we hit a sidewalk.

“We need a plan,” Cas said, keeping pace with Crowley. “That demon probably knows we’re here. And knowing just how angry Y/N and Dean are, they’re going to shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Of course, we are!” Dean told him. “I’m gonna slice and dice that son of a bitch!”

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Dean, you and Sam have to go in first and find that demon. Or demons knowing how all those assholes work. Cas, Crowley and myself will find Charlie.”

“As much as I like your plan, darling,” Crowley said, “I’m going with moose and squirrel. My demons fear you plaid wrapped nightmares, but I’m their king and they fear me more.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Crowley.”

We reached the building where Crowley said that the demon was holding Charlie. It was an apartment building, with probably other families in there. Families that had their own children and didn’t worry about the things that went bump in the night.

“I’ll take Y/N to where Charlie is,” Cas said, gripping my arm. “I can sense her in the building.”

“I’ll drop the other two inside,” Crowley muttered.

“We need a meeting point,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Let’s meet were we popped at. Were our feet first hit New Zealand.”

“If anything goes wrong,” Dean said, giving me a kiss. “Cas, I want you to take her and Charlie back home. I want them safe and as far away from here.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I said, using my free arm to hold onto Dean as I gave him another kiss. “I’m not going to gain Charlie and lose you.”

“I’ll be fine, baby,” Dean whispered. “I’ll be fine as long as you and Charlie are gone.”

Before I could say anything, the scenery changed. Dean who was right in front of me, was now replaced with a man with black eyes. He swung at me and I ducked under him.

I heard the sizzle of an angel blade against skin and knew that Cas had stabbed him. The demon dropped dead at Cas’ feet. I heard a little girl crying and I turned around. There sat Charlie tied to a chair.

I ran to her and kneeled in front of her. “Mommy, I’m sorry,” she cried, little tears running down her chin.

“Oh, baby, it’s not your fault,” I said. “I’m sorry.” Cas and I untied her and she feel into my arms. I picked her up and squeezed her. “I’ve missed you so much, Charlie.”

There was a large band from the other room. Charlie covered up her ears and started crying again. “I’ll take you home,” Cas said. “And I’ll come back and see what’s happening.”

“Cas, please,” I begged. “Don’t let anything happen to Dean and Sam. I can’t lose them.”

Cas nodded. “I won’t, Y/N.”

“Hey, baby,” I whispered, as Charlie opened her eyes.

“Mommy…” Charlie sat up in her bed. “Mommy!” She jumped into my arms and gave me a tight hug. “Mommy, I had a really bad dream.”

“Did you?” I asked, trying to flatten down her bedhead.

“Yeah! And you and daddy and uncle Sam came to save me! Uncle Cas was there too! And Crowley!”

“Well, that sounds like a very exciting dream,” I said. “Daddy’s making breakfast, you wanna go eat?”

“Yeah!” She bounced off my lap and ran out of the room.

I followed her.

Everyone Charlie named off was down in the kitchen and when she saw them, she rattled on about the dream she had. Dean gave Charlie her plate and wrapped his arms around me.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” I whispered back.

“We gotta protect her more,” he said. “Even if that means taking her with us now.”

I sighed. “I don’t want her to know. She just thinks it was all a dream.”

“I know, but I can’t lose her. I can’t lose our baby girl again.”

108 notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 7 years

Text

Back In Black

SPN FanFic

~ The Winchesters travel to Louisiana to help out an old friend and Dean gets a moment of happiness before the walls come crashing back down.~

Dean x Reader, Sam

4,803 Words

Warnings: Possible tiny spoiler for 12x12. Blood. Angst. Pain. Sad. Also happiness, romance, implications of activities sexual in nature. Everything but the kitchen sink.

A/N: This is for my dear buddy Meg, @megansescape for her 300 followers celebration. My song prompt was “Back in Black” by AC/DC. I didn’t use it how you might think ;) Huge thank you to my poodle @idreamofhazel for reading this over and for helping save the entire thing from being tossed into the shredder. Hope you enjoy! Let me know whatcha think!

Blood. There was so much blood. Her blood. It poured from her mouth, her sides, the cuts on her arms, the hole in her chest. It coated Dean’s hands and dripped down his shirt as he cradled her in his arms. She was gone.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice boomed throughout the room but Dean could barely hear him. It was muted and distant; nothing could break through the cloud of pain and grief that surrounded Dean as he lay on the cold ground rocking her to his chest. Sam knelt down, falling to his knees next to Y/N’s limp form, tears filling his eyes. “Dean, what did you do?”

They were back on the road where they belonged. Witches, demons, it didn’t much matter what lie ahead; Dean was happy to put the Big Bad aside for a while and focus on the small stuff. Mary had disappeared again after the crap with Ramiel, and frankly he was glad to see her go. She’d put them all in danger, hell, Cas had almost died, and he couldn’t stand to look her in the eye after.

When Y/N had called, asking for help on a case, he’d been more than happy to load up the car and take the thirteen hour drive to Louisiana. The wind and the road helped clear his head, helped him push away the questions and distrust that bloomed in his gut.

Sam tried to get him to talk about it, to verbally work through the issue, but each time he opened his mouth, Dean turned the radio up a little higher until Sam got the message. AC/DC blasted from the speakers and filled the car. Dean sang along, tapping his hands against the wheel, letting the song sweep him away. It was his theme song today, his entrance music into the next story. He was back in action; back in black, back to the old days before things got complicated and everything was shades of gray. Back when bad guys were bad guys, people were good, and Dean could tell the difference.

They pulled into the Sunrise Motel and Dean cut the engine. Before Sam could ask which room was hers, a door a few rooms down swung open and Y/N stepped out into the sunshine. She leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed casually across her chest, but her smile betrayed her excitement. It’d been at least three years since she’d see the boys, and her heart raced with anticipation.

The doors creaked loudly as the Winchesters exited the Impala, and Y/N started towards them, meeting Dean halfway and jumping into his outstretched arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist as his hands gripped her back and thighs and they fell into a kiss as if no time had ever passed. Sam stood by, rolling his eyes, but secretly enjoying the smile that filled his brother’s face. Dean was do for some unadulterated attention, and he knew how much Y/N cared for him.

They broke away after a long minute and she climbed down, adjusting her tight green shirt and turning towards Sam. She smiled broadly and opened her arms. “Sam! I missed you so much,” she said as her hands locked around his shoulders and forced him down to her level.

He hugged her tightly and laughed, “It’s good to see you too Y/N.”

“So, what’s got you stumped Princess?” Dean wiped at the corners of his mouth with one hand as he watched her attack his brother.

Y/N stepped away and took a deep breath. “Demons, dude.” She shrugged, “at least I’m pretty sure.” She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and rocked on her heels, looking back and forth between the two hunters. “Man, it’s good to see you guys. Ya’ll wanna get a drink or just get down to it?”

They replied in tandem but with different answers, Sam opting to get down to business while Dean took the leisurely approach.

Y/N laughed, “Lucky for you, we can do both.”

The bar was just down the street and mostly empty since it was two o’clock on a Tuesday. The trio piled into a booth, Y/N sliding in next to Dean, his arm falling around her shoulder naturally. They looked good together, Sam thought. She was good for him: tough, charming, smart and caring. But she was also fiercely independent and stubborn, which worried Sam and made him nervous about the case. If she was asking for help, she really needed it. She would never use something like this as an excuse just to cozy up to his brother.

Two rounds of beer and three years worth of catch up stories later, they finally got down to business.

“I know it sounds stupid, but I’m really stuck. I’ve never seen demons work like this. I was almost sure for a while it was witches, but the evidence is pushing me away from all that.” Y/N leaned her elbows on the table, picking at the label on her empty bottle as she spoke. “It presents as murder/suicides. married couples literally ripping each other apart. They’re found beaten and bloody, seemingly by each other’s hands. One of them kills the other, then offs themselves right after. Three couples in the last two weeks. I’ve checked for everything, hex bags, cursed objects, ties to any suspicious people; nothing pans out.”

“So you think they’re being possessed?” Sam asked, leaning forward in his seat.

Y/N shook her head, “No. That’s the other thing; no sulfur. No strange behavior leading up to it. No witnesses. No nothing.”

“What makes you think it’s a demon then?” Dean turned, leaning on the table to get a better look at Y/N. He rested his cheek on his hand and drew his bottom lip through his teeth as he stared at her.

Y/N took a deep breath, her shoulders falling as she exhaled, looking worn and defeated. “Honestly, I don’t know. What else could it be?”

Sam’s eyes raised towards the dim ceiling, his lips turning down at the corners as he thought. “Maybe some pissed off god, or a rogue cupid?”

Y/N laughed solemnly, “Cupid?”

“Don’t laugh, those guys are…” Dean shivered, remembering the naked hugger from years ago. “Anyway, don’t worry Y/N. We’ll figure this out and get you back on the road in no time.” He smiled, flashing his pearly whites at her.

She turned, adopting his pose, her head resting on her hand as she returned the smile. “Hopefully not too soon,” she said, placing her free hand on his thigh and squeezing gently. “We have some more catching up to do, don’tcha think?”

Dean’s eyes grew wide and he licked his lip, his body reacting quickly to her flirtatious touch. Across the table, Sam coughed in annoyance, attempting to break apart their foreplay. Dean looked away, clearing his throat and raising a hand towards the bar, “Check please!”

The motel was thankfully empty and Sam snagged a room across the parking lot from Y/N’s. He set to work right away, pouring over the Men of Letter’s files on his tablet, trying to keep his mind off the debauchery surely taking place across the way.

By sunrise, he had narrowed his search down to two possibilities, and he shut his eyes, allowing himself a few moments to recharge before the day truly began. Kicking off his shoes, he collapsed onto the closest bed and stretched out, hanging his long limbs off the sides, letting his fingers rest midair. Just as sleep tugged at his eyes, a fist began pounding upon his door.

“Go away!” he mumbled and turned his face away, retracting his arms and gathering up the pillow beneath his head. He buried his face in the synthetic down and curled into it, hoping the disturbance outside would leave him be.

“Sammy! Move your ass!” Dean bellowed from beyond the door, his fist connecting with the thin barrier once again.

With a heavy groan, Sam lifted himself from the mattress and unlocked the door, returning almost immediately to his pillow. Dean walked in, a tray of coffee cups in his hand and Y/N bouncing behind him.

They were wide awake, relaxed and happy; sappy smiles filling their faces as they took seats across from each other at the little round table by the door. Dean pulled a cup from the paper tray and held it out towards Sam. “Drink up Sleeping Beauty, we’ve got work to do.”

Y/N laughed quietly at the sneer Sam threw at Dean as he sat up at took the coffee. “Thanks.”

“You look exhausted sweetie,” Y/N teased, taking as sip of her own brew.

“I was up all night doing research while you two were…” Sam paused, waving a hand in their direction. “Whatever.”

“Oh it was a little more than ‘whatever’,” she said with a wink. Dean’s hand fell to the table, brushing against hers and she lifted it up, lacing their fingers together. Dean sighed and they fell into staring again, quite content to let their eyes do the talking. Dean’s thumb traced her lifeline, running gently across the crease in her palm. She held his gaze, her cheeks taking on a rosy glow under his inspection.

“Anyone want to know what I found out?” Sam’s hands and brows were raised in question, annoyed that they had woken him up just to ignore him.

Dean mumbled in response, a barely audible “Sure” passing his lips.

Y/N blushed and looked away, finally turning her attention to Sam, “What’dja find Big Guy?”

“Arawyn of Llangollen,” he said, wiping a hand down his tired face.

“A what of a who?” Dean asked, dropping Y/N’s hand as he turned towards Sam.

“Actually a who of a where,” Sam corrected. “Just, read it, it’s right there.” he put his coffee on the nightstand and laid back down, covering his eyes with one arm slung over his face.

Y/N shrugged and picked up the tablet, scrolling through Sam’s notes, getting the gist of the information.

“Arawyn of Llangollen was a powerful witch who terrorized the Welsh village back in the 1100s,” she spoke quickly and without emotion as she read, almost robotically absorbing the information. “She cursed happy couples to incite discourse, often ending in…ah.”

“Ah?” Dean lifted his eyes up from her lips where they had been stationed, watching with unabashed hunger as she spoke.

“The couples fought until they killed each other. Like, gruesomely killed each other. Eww, there’s sketches…” Y/N tilted the screen so Dean could see a rather crude drawing of a man ripping his wife’s head off of her shoulders.

Dean’s eyebrows raised and he frowned, “Hmm. So this is good, how do we kill her?”

Sam piped up from the bed, “There’s nothing to kill. She’s been dead for almost a century; the files are very clear that the case is closed. She was dealt with. Permanently.”

“So why are we talking about her?”

“Copycat or something?” Y/N put the computer down and looked over at sleepy Sam, waiting for an answer.

He huffed and sat up, pushing his pillow away. “Or something I guess. Haven’t quite worked that out yet.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Dean stood up and moved around his chair, leaning his hands on the back, “Let’s get moving!”

“There’s nowhere to go Dean, dead end.” Sam was up, rocking on his feet, his frustration evident on throughout his features. He ran a hand through his long chestnut hair and sighed as it came to rest on the back of his neck. “We just have to… wait and see what happens.”

“I told ya I was stuck,” Y/N sat back, slapping her hands on her denim clad thighs. “What’d you think I called you for?”

Dean laughed, the relaxed smile pulling at his face, lifting his lips and crinkling the delicate skin around his eyes. “I just figured you missed me,” Dean winked.

Y/N pursed her lips and blew him a kiss, “You know it baby.”

Sam growled and threw himself back down on the bed. “Could you two take your flirting someplace else so I can take take a nap please?”

They left Sam alone and went out for a walk. It wasn’t a very Dean thing to do, and actually wasn’t a very Y/N thing either. Still, they spent the rest of the morning walking hand in hand through the town, occasionally stopping to linger near a shop window or settle on a bench, content to sit in the warm sunshine and watch the townsfolk shuffle about their day.

It was strange, taking time like this in the middle of a case, but truly there was nothing to be done but wait. Y/N had done all the legwork the week before, visited all the victim’s families, interviewed every witness, examined every crime scene. All they could do was wait.

While it was unusual, Dean kind of liked it. He liked how easy it was to relax with Y/N, how naturally their footfalls fell into sync, how warm and peaceful it felt when her head rested on his shoulder. He found it so relaxing Dean had to remind himself not to get used to it. In the end they’d wrap the case and take off down different highways once again.

They enjoyed a late lunch at Mabel’s Diner when Dean’s stomach growled a bit more than could be ignored. Bacon cheeseburgers and milkshakes; solidifying the day as one for a 1950’s dating manual.

When they ran out of Main Street, they kept on walking, soon finding themselves in a grove of pecan trees. Golden and orange light filtered through the pale green leaves, reminding the couple just how long they’d been out. Even with sunset approaching, neither was quite ready to get back to the real world. The day had been too perfect, too lovely, too free of monsters and blood. A little vacation of the mind where they could allow themselves to dream of something better.

“We should probably get back,” Y/N said sadly, pausing in the aisle of trees, looking over her shoulder at the town they’d left behind. “Sam might need us.”

“Sam would have called.” Dean tugged her hand, pulling her close with the swift motion. She fell against his chest, her hands caught between them, fingers sliding under his shirt to dance over his collarbone. Very slowly Dean dipped his head, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. His hand found her face, his thumb tracing the hollow of her cheek while they breathed into each other, the fading sunlight bathing them in a fiery glow.

Dean’s arm wrapped around her, his left hand pressing into the curve of her lower back. He walked her slowly backwards, their lips still locked together, his tongue sweeping lovingly over hers. Y/N let out a tiny moan when her back hit the tree trunk, and another as Dean covered her with his body, inch for inch pressing his weight on top of her. She melted against him, giving herself over to his whim, the flames of desire growing hotter inside of her.

Lips moved, hands roamed, hearts pounded; their actions making them both dizzy with passion. Too engrossed in the moment, neither heard the snap of the tree branch in the distance, nor felt the torrent of wind swirl around them; it wasn’t until it was too late that either hunter noticed a shift in the air.

Sam woke around noon, rested and ready to go. He returned to his notes, looking over everything with a fresh eye. As he downed the last dregs of his cold coffee, his vision passed over the crime scene photos once more, this time pulling out the similarity that he and Y/N had overlooked before. In every photo, lying next to the butchered woman, was a small wooden coin; easily passed over if you looked too quickly. Sam recognized it now and his heart stopped. He knew what they were dealing with, and it was no witch from the past.

Dean opened his eyes, squinting as a harsh light burned in the darkness. A single bulb hung from the ceiling above him, and he shielded his eyes, trying to take stock of his surroundings.

His head was swimming as he sat up, a deep ringing filling his ears. He was alone, it seemed, in a damp basement, the smell of mold and ancient dirt drifting through the air. “Y/N?” He climbed to his feet as he called to her, still disoriented from the attack. One moment they were going at it in an orchard, and the next he was waking up concussed in a windowless pit.

“Dean.”

He spun around, turning towards the sweet voice that spoke his name. Y/N stood calmly at the far end of the room, the dim light barely touching her face. She smiled and stepped forward, her lips pulled back into a malicious grin.

“What happened, where are we?” Dean moved towards her, his legs weak and unsteady. He stumbled forward, his head knocking into the low light, sending it swinging back and forth, casting eerie rays around the muddy walls.

“I got tired of the game Dean, figured it was time to end it.”

Dean shook his head, trying to focus on her face, but his eyes were blurry, almost shaking in his skull. Something was very wrong but he couldn’t pinpoint the source. “What game? What are you-” He froze, looking up at Y/N as she blinked slowly, her eyes opening to reveal total darkness. “No.”

“Oh yes Dean,” she laughed, her voice taking on a dark edge he’d never heard before. “You call yourself a hunter but you had no idea your little girlfriend was a demon, did you?”

He swallowed hard, his head still spinning. “This isn’t real. There’s no way.”

“You’re an idiot Dean. Always have been.” Y/N walked around him slowly, keeping him at arm’s length. “Even Y/N knew that, but she didn’t care. You were just an easy lay when she was bored. That’s not to say she didn’t enjoy herself. God knows I did last night.”

Dean balled his fists, his jaw clenching tightly as the demon taunted him. He shut his eyes tight and took a deep breath, summoning up his courage and pushing away the shock. “Exorcizamus te,” Dean began, speaking low and determined, but his words were cut short as Y/N’s hand gripped his short hair, pulling his head back painfully.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed, her lips grazing his ear.

“Oh yeah, why not?” Dean scoffed, his attitude surfacing partially beneath the fear and worry flooding through his system.

Y/N released her grip on his head and walked around to face him. She tilted her head and smirked as she lifted her shirt, revealing a gaping wound in her stomach. It oozed fresh blood, dripping down slowly onto her her pants. “If I go, your girl goes. I made sure of that.”

Dean’s heart sank, his shoulders fell and he dropped his head; this was impossible, an insane nightmare made real. He gritted his teeth and looked up, staring hard into black eyes. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-” Dean gasped as Y/N’s fist connected with his jaw, snapping his head back and causing the loud ringing to return to his ears.

“I said,” She struck him again, another fist to his face, this one landing under his left eye. “Don’t,” she clawed at his shirt, pulling him up and striking him a third time. “Do that!” A headbutt sent him flying backwards, the edges of his vision darkening as he collapsed to the ground.

He crawled to his knees, his knuckles pressing into the cold concrete as he panted, trying to catch his breath.

“You should just stay down Dean. Stay down and die like a good boy.” She hovered above, her lips spewing venom down upon him. Dean’s muscles tensed and he shot up, knocking into her with all his strength, sending her backwards into the hard wall. She landed with a huff, all of the air expelling from her lungs.

She laughed. Dean sneered as Y/N’s beautiful face was contorted with the demon’s hateful cackle. He lunged forward, fist aloft, prepared to put an end to the nightmare.

“Dean, it’s not a demon. Where are you?” Sam spoke into his phone as he sped away from the motel; the Impala’s tires screeching and leaving thick black marks on the pavement. He hung up and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. Neither Dean nor Y/N were answering and he’d left enough voicemails. He’d just have to take care of this himself.

Once he’d figured out what they were after, he’d been able to link everything back to a coven of witches living out by Bell’s Pecan Orchard. If he’d identified the coin correctly, and he was sure he had, they were a coven of Arawyn’s followers; proteges who followed in the witch’s footsteps, passing down her spells through the generations. The coin was their calling card, a talisman left behind as proof of their works. Well, today it would be their undoing.

Dean’s fist drove into Y/N’s face again and again, pushing blood up from the cuts his knuckles left on her cheekbones and around her eyes. Her nose flowed freely, coating her mouth and neck in the crimson mess. No matter what he did to her, she laughed; black eyes mocking him, making him long for Y/E/C.

“Give it up Dean. You can’t win this. If you kill me, Y/N dies. Then where will you be? All sad and depressed and guilty as always.” She smiled as a glimmer of joy passed over her face. “Oh, you should kill yourself. That would end all that silly little pain. Death would be a blessing to you Dean. Can you picture it?”

“Shut up!” Dean screamed, his hand closing around Y/N’s throat, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her neck. She gasped and clawed at his hand, but the evil smile never left her lips. The black eyes remained fixed on his face.

Sam burst through the house, his gun held high, witch killing bullets loaded and ready. He stalked through the rooms until he found the trio of witches sitting around an altar in the dark. They chanted over candles, an ancient cloth spread over their table, it’s archaic lettering worn and faded with time.

Y/N’s lips were turning blue; her nails scratched at Dean’s arm, desperate to pull him away. He held on, squeezing tighter, feeling her windpipe buckle under his grasp. Suddenly her smile faded away, the clipped laughter ceased, and her eyes returned to their usual sparkling color. Dean gasped and released her, stepping back in shock as Y/N was seemingly returned to him.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” he yelled, his hands falling to her shoulders in an attempt to steady her. She coughed, rubbing at her neck with shaking hands as she caught her breath. “Are you OK? Jesus!”

Y/N brought her hands up quickly, knocking his hands off of her shoulders. She cracked her neck, tipping her head to each side before looking up at Dean, the blackness returning to her eyes. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you? I mean, come on!” She laughed and struck him, hitting the bridge of his nose with her forearm. He doubled over, clutching his face as the blood poured out. “Let’s just finish this.”

Dean bent down and pulled his knife from his boot, gripping the handle tightly as he stood up and drove the blade into Y/N’s chest, piercing her heart.

Gunshots rang out above Dean’s head followed by the thuds of solid masses hitting the floor. He held Y/N, one hand clutching her shoulder, holding her still as he twisted the knife in her chest. He expected to slow her down, to hold her still so he could continue the exorcism, but something was wrong. The darkness faded from her eyes and she gasped, sucking in a desperate breath of air. The smile fell away and her mouth dropped open in shock. “Dean…”

The fog clouding his mind lifted and Dean blinked furiously, his eyes darting about her face as he realized what was happening. She was no demon, no hellish force was keeping her alive; she was real, she was his, and now…

Y/N’s head fell back and her knees buckled as her body went limp; the blood pumping organ halted forever, stopped mid beat. Her last breath escaped slowly as Dean fell to the ground with her; it passed her lips as a whimper before her voice was no more.

Dean shook, his hands trembling as he ran his fingers down her face, passing over the deep bruises and cuts made by his fists. The blood caked on her skin, standing out in stark contrast as the color left her cheeks and lips, turning her a ghastly gray.

“No. No, no, no.” Quivering lips pleading with no one, begging to the empty air for help. “Y/N please…” He shut his eyes tight, willing himself to wake up, to find this just another one of his horrid dreams, but the feel of her warm blood soaking into his shirt, running down his arm, told him his wish would remain unfulfilled.

Slowly he pulled the blade from her chest, tears spilling freely as a bubble of blood followed the stained metal. He lost it then, raising his face to the rotting ceiling and screaming into the darkness; the vocal manifestation of his pain and guilt filling the dank space.

Sam was checking for a pulse on the body of the last witch when he heard it: his brother’s voice wailing from below. He froze, his muscles tensing as he realized what it could mean. He hadn’t known they were there, hadn’t even thought to look for them.

He flew through the house, finding a stairwell behind a pantry door in the kitchen towards the rear of the house. His long legs carried him quickly down the steep stairs; the moldy wood bowing and creeking under his weight.

Sam found them on the floor against a far wall, the single lightbulb offering a meager beam of illumination. Still, Sam could see clearly the terrible scene before him: Y/N bloody and gone, cradled to Dean’s chest, the knife still clutched in his hand.

“Dean, what did you do?”

They were back on the road again, Sam driving while Dean slept. He’d passed out not long ago, dehydration and exhaustion from his tears getting the best of him. He hadn’t stopped, hadn’t spoken or eaten since they’d burned her body, scattering her ashes amidst the pecan trees.

Curse or no, Sam knew Dean had been broken by this. He had killed the only girl he’d ever really loved; the only woman who could bring him peace in their crazy life. Whether he’d admit it to Sam or even to himself, Dean would be forever haunted by his actions, scarred by the witch’s curse, hating himself for the life he’d taken.

Dean’s eyes fluttered open as the setting sun hit his face; another day gone, another mile driven. He sat up and rubbed a hand down his face, wiping the lingering grains of sleep from his eyes.

“You OK Dean?”

“I’m fine, Sam.” His voice was low and quiet as he turned his attention out the window, not wanting to submit to questioning just yet.

Sam ignored his answer and pressed on, “Dean, you know it wasn’t your fault. The witches… it was a curse; an illusion. It wasn’t-”

“I said I’m fine, Sam,” he snapped, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he grit his teeth.

“You’re not fine, Dean. You need to-”

Dean turned the dial on the radio, drowning Sam’s words under Angus Young’s guitar riff as his song filled the car once again. Dean sighed and pressed his head back against the seat, staring up at the roof, praying the tears would stay down where he put them.

The joy of the song failed to touch him this time; there was no go get ‘em attitude anymore. Just the color that washed over his heart. He was back, back in black. Back in the darkness that never seemed to truly leave him. He didn’t know why he even tried anymore; as soon as he saw the sun, the black would inevitably return.

Forevers: @1-800-misha @amanda-teaches @arryn-nyxx @atc74 @autopistaaningunaparte @ayeeitsemry @bea789 @because-imma-lady-assface @babypieandwhiskey @blanketmadeofstar @brewsthespirit-blog @britt-spn @buckysmetallicstump @bulletscrossbowpie @charliebradbury1104 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @chelsea072498 @cici0507 @clairese1980 @collectivekiera @cosmicpeanuthologram @createdbybadappreciation @cyrilconnelly @dannnyphantomm @dancingalone21 @deadinside-muser @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @demonangelimpala @docharleythegeekqueen @dustycelt @evyiione @faithfulpanicmoon @feelmyroarrrr @flowermisha @freaksforthewin @frenchybell @fuckyeahfeysand @gemini75eeyore @ghostkitty1103 @hamartiamacguffin @impalaimagining @im-super-potter-locked @inmysparetime0 @jpadjackles @jotink78 @kristaparadowski @kas-not-cas @katrodriguez99 @lavendellove @love-kittykat21 @luciisthebest @maddieburcham1 @mamaredd123 @mogaruke @megafrontliner311 @megansescape @mija-novella @milkymilky-cocopuff @mogaruke @mrsbatesmotel53 @mrswhozeewhatsis @my-life-is-here-soo @myfand0msandm0re @mysteriouslyme81 @naadestiel @notesfromalabprincess @notnaturalanahi @obi-wan-my-only-ho @pain-of-artifice @percussiongirl2017 @percywinchester27 @petrovadixon @pinknerdpanda @poukothenerd @riddikulus-obsessions @riversong-sam @sam-winchesters-long-locks @sarahgrace-1989 @scxrchy @smoothdogsgirl @spectaculicious @spontaneousam @summer-binging-spn @superbasementflower @supernaturallymarvellous @supernaturalyobessed @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @thecynicalnerd @the-latina-trickster @therewillbeblood @tom-is-in-my-tardis @typicalweirdbookworm @thegreatficmaster @vine-colored-assbutt @whatareyousearchingfordean @wi-deangirl77 @wvnchxstxr @xxthevampirediariesexpertxx @yearoftheweasley @youtubehelpsmesurvive @yvngkinggchristyy

The Dean’s List: @anokhi07 @assbutt-fan @bringmesomepie56 @deangirl-withanimpala @delessapeace-blog @ellexirmalfoy @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @leather-moccasin-hero @msdooos @mskitty416 @ruprecht0420 @soullessbabee @tmccarney @torn-and-frayed @twoboys-and-afallenangel @vesperlady04

#megansescape 300 challenge #spn fanfic #dean x reader #dean winchester #angst #romance #sam winchester #dean angst #one shot #supernatural fanfiction

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