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spn-rewrites · 2 years

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01x01 (PART 1)

Season One Episode One: Pilot

A/N: hey guys, I re-edited the pilot and am going to work my way down and because they weren’t originally posted on this account, I’m gonna re-post them here - all tags will stay in tack.

Summary: Dean and Y/N go find Sam

Word Count: 3.1k

Part 2 Part 3

It’s been a few years since you and Dean let Sam run off and go to college. He wanted out of this life and there wasn’t really much you could have done to stop him, so you and Dean went off on your own. You took up Sam’s position, doing research and finding jobs. Sometimes you followed leads from John, but it really was just the two of you.

For ten years you had been hunting things with these boys. It wasn’t your first choice of a life, much like it wasn’t Sam’s. But you learned to embrace it because like Dean, you owed your life to John Winchester.

The flames were behind you, englulfing the only home you had ever known, and you were sitting on the side of the road with your knees pulled up to your chest praying to a God you no longer believed in. That’s when an older, scruffy haired man kneeled down in front of you and put his hand on your knee. “I’m John Winchester, a friend of your mom’s. We’re gonna take care of you, okay?”

You weren’t sure how you knew you could trust him but something in his eyes told you that you could. You had seen photos of him and your mom around the house - it was a vague memory but it was there.

The boys behind him didn’t look familiar but John introduced them to you as his

sons and the older one immediately took you under his wing and the younger one made you a bowl of cereal when you got back to the hotel that they were staying at and a few months after your fifteen birthday, you were learning about the lore of demons.

That’s how you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala that Dean loved so much, on your way to Standford to go get Sam from college. He made a noble choice, leaving the hunting life. One that maybe you could have made if leaving Dean behind didn’t feel like ripping out one of your own ribs.

However, John was on a hunt and hadn’t come back yet. Being gone a few days at a time without hearing a peep wasn’t unusual, but it had been weeks at this point and Dean was getting worried, so you guys packed up to go collect Sam in hopes he’d help you find him. You had tried to silently protest involving the younger brother, knowing he didn’t want to, but Dean wasn’t one to argue with.

“What is it with you? You don’t want help?” Dean accused, glancing at you from the road.

“That’s not it, I just-”

“You just what, Y/N?” He interrupted you. Your eyebrows raised and you took a breath, ready to fight back. Sometimes Dean just knows exactly where to push your buttons.

“Sam doesn’t want this, Dean. What part of that don’t you understand? He’s happy, he’s got a girlfriend,” you blurted out, your words stopping in your throat as soon as you said it. That was not something that Sam wanted you to tell Dean, but it was too late now and Dean just stared at you. “Her name is Jess,” you sighed out.

“Jess? Seriously? He didn’t think to tell me this?” The Impala started driving faster, picking up speed down the road.

“Can you slow down?” You braced yourself out of habit, used to Dean driving reckless as hell but when he got mad, the reckless seemed more dangerous.

“I’m just pissed, okay?” Dean snapped. You held your hands up in defense and Dean pulled back, taking a deep breath and letting his foot off the peddle. You drove the rest of the way in silence.

You stood outside of the apartment complex that Sam lived in and tried to investigate a way to get inside. “We could use the fire escape,” you suggested. Dean looked down at you with a grin growing on his face, “what?” You deadpanned, still kind of irritated by your last conversation but Dean was smiling now so maybe it was over.

“I like the way you think, kiddo.” Dean patted your back and he started scaling the fire escape, you followed him until you reached a window. The hallways were dark and damp and you wondered how Sam even lived in a place like this before you remembered that this was an upgrade compared to the hotels the boys grew up in.

Dean shushed you as he slowly opened the door to the apartment, and you followed him inside. There was a rustle coming from the other side of the room, a door cracking and then you saw a shadow emerge, most likely Sam.

Sam caught Dean off guard, trying to get him from behind but Dean was not that easy to take down and the two brothers began fighting, Sam blocking Dean’s punches and Dean trying to tackle him to the ground. Eventually, the bigger of the two pinned the smaller. “Whoa, easy, tiger,” Dean grinned.

“Dean?” Sam exclaimed, looking up at his brother and then seeing you. “Y/N? You scared the crap out of me!” Sam was breathing heavier now as you stood next to the two boys, looking down at them with a smile on your face.

“That’s 'cause you’re out of practice,” you said smugly, although you didn’t do any of the fighting and had no reason to be except to push Sam’s buttons. Sam grunted and flipped Dean over, now pinning the older brother.

“Guess not,” Dean sighed. “Get off of me,” he groaned and pushed Sam off of himself and almost into you, but you put your hands out to stop Sam from falling and as soon as he felt your touch he turned around, a smile plastered to his face.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he wrapped his arms around you tight, your heart fluttering at his nickname for you as you hugged him back.

“Sam?” You let go of him as a figure came out of the shadows, Jess you assumed. Sam had told you a lot about her the past year or so, as you guys were in constant contact unlike Sam and Dean, however, you had never met the girl. She was a lot prettier than you imagined, a blonde bombshell.

“Hey, Jess,” Sam said, his face almost seemed disappointed that he had to introduce you and Dean to her finally. Part of you wondered if he wanted to keep his family at an arms length for the rest of his life. “This is my brother Dean and my friend, Y/N,” he introduced.

Dean clearly noticed how pretty Jess was, his eyes falling on her face and then her chest. “I love the smurfs,” he smiled, referring to her pajama shirt but also only noticing because of her boobs. “I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother’s league.” Dean flirted, Jessica’s face unamused.

“Well, let me just put something on,” Jess said, turning to walk away, clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation.

“No, no. I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dean protested. You snorted from behind Sam and Dean turned around to glare at you. You smiled back and Dean turned his attention back to his brother. “However, I do have to steal your boyfriend here to talk about some private family business, but nice meeting you.” His last words had a flirty tone to them and you smacked Dean in the arm when he finished.

“What is your problem?” You whispered to him but he just smiled and raised his eyebrows because he knew that you already knew exactly what his problem was.

“No,” Sam said, his tone was suddenly more serious. “Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.” Sam moved to stand next to Jess, wrapping his arm around her waist. That was a bold move for the younger Winchester and you sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay, um, Dad hasn’t been home in a few days,” Dean said with no hesitation.

“So, he’s working overtime on a ‘Miller Time’ shift, he’ll stumble back in sooner or later.”

“John’s on a hunting trip, Sam.” You said, putting emphasis on the word ‘hunting’ causing Sam’s face to drop and dismissing Jessica from the conversation. You waved goodbye to her as she went back into the other room.

Sam thought it’d be better to talk outside, so you followed them down the stairs, your little feet having a hard time catching up with theirs and being a whole flight of stairs behind them, you only caught a small amount of their conversation - Dean begging Sam to help us find John. “Dad’s missing. I need you to help us find him.”

“You remember the Poltergeist in Amherst or the Devil’s Gate in Clifton? He’s always missing and he’s always fine,” Sam said, their voices getting louder as they stopped at a landing and waited for you to catch up. You were out of breath when you reached them, “and you said I was the one out of shape?” Sam joked as you put your hands on your knees to help catch your breath. You fake laughed as Dean kept going.

“Not for this long, now are you going to come with me or not?”

Sam started following Dean and you hesitantly chased after. “I’m not,” Sam’s words made you stop, although you knew that that would be his answer.

“Why?” You asked. Sam turned around to look at you, his features suddenly softened.

“I swore I was done hunting, for good.” Sam sighed and you almost took a step towards him, but you stopped yourself.

“Come on, it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t that bad.” Dean said, but you knew that that was a weak attempt to make Sam change his mind about coming with us. Dean turned and walked away, but you only followed after Sam did.

“Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the monster under my bed, he gave me a .45,” Sam said as we started to exit the building.

“Well what was he supposed to do?” Dean said. You chuckled and looked at him, cocking your head to the side wondering what it was that Dean thought John was supposed to do. Sometimes, you thought Dean was just so delusional that he thought all of this was normal.

“Seriously Dean?” You asked, knowing full well that Dean would do and say anything to defend his father’s name, even to Sam.

“I was nine years old,” Sam said, his voice going quieter and you bit your lower lip. You felt sad for him for a moment, never really understanding how traumatized Sam was with his growing up. For you, it started later. You knew it wasn’t normal and you knew how life was supposed to be for a kid but Sam never got that and his yearning for it was clear. “He was supposed to say, ‘don’t be afraid of the dark’”

“Don’t be afraid of the dark? You should be afraid of the dark!” Dean’s voice got louder, “you know what’s out there. Look at Y/N for Christ sake, she didn’t get a .45 and look what happened to her.” Dean mumbled and pushed open the gate and went outside. You were taken aback by Dean’s words, gasping a little. He had a tendancy of saying things he didn’t mean but he didn’t bring up your past very often.

“What the hell is your problem?” Sam tried to defend you but you grabbed his arm, making him stop. Dean threw open the front door of the building, the traffic from outside coming in for a brief morning until the door closed behind him. “What? That’s not okay!” He snapped back at you, but sighing and letting out a breath when you looked at each other.

You nodded, “I know, but just let it go.” It took a second, but Sam finally agreed. You motioned for the front door and with a deep breath, Sam pushed it open and you followed him outside. With the cold air hitting your faces, Sam continued to fight back with Dean like nothing happened.

“Dad’s obsession with killing the thing that killed mom, the way we grew up, killing everything we can find because we can’t find it,” Sam argued.

“We save a lot of people, Sam.” Sam just scoffed at his brother’s reply.

“You think mom would have wanted this for us? You think Penelope would have wanted this for Y/N?” Sam made Dean stop dead in his tracks and he turned around to face his brother, anger in his eyes. “The weapon training and melting silver into bullets?”

“So you’re just going to live some normal, apple-pie life?” Dean snapped.

“No, not normal. Safe.” Sam spat as you three got to the car, your mind still reeling. You put your hand on the door handle as they argued. You wished you could just disappear, any mention of your mother makes you wanna die. You weren’t sure you ever fully got over her death and accepted the fact that this was your new life now, hunting ghosts and demons and any other creepy crawling that lurked at night.

“Dad is in real trouble right now, if he’s not dead already. I can feel it,” Dean pleaded. His whole demeanor changed, sometimes at an astonishing rate.

You pushed yourself away from the car, forgetting about the pounding in your head and put your hand on Dean’s shoulder. “He’s not dead, Dean.” Dean just looked at you, sadness in his eyes and you felt bad for him. Maybe that was the reason you could never actually stay mad at him, because no matter what he said to you, you knew he never meant it.

“We can’t do this alone,” Dean said. “We don’t want to,” his voice softened when he said this and you looked up at Sam, a small smile playing on your lips.

Dean popped the trunk to the Impala and started looking for John’s files while Sam and you leaned against either side of the trunk, looking in. You remembered the basics of John’s hunt so you started talking, not waiting for Dean anymore. “He started to look at this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California.”

“About a month ago, this guy,” Dean found the file and handed Sam a picture of the guy who went missing, “they found his car but he’d vanished.”

Sam looked at the photo and speculated, “well, maybe he was kidnapped.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the next photo from the file in Dean’s hands, “here’s another one in April, and then December ‘04, ‘03, ‘98, ‘92… 10 of them over the past 20 years.” Dean handed Sam all the articles and photos belonging to the cases you just listed off. You both looked at him smuggly, knowing that you debunked his speculations.

“All men, too. All the same 5-mile stretch of road, it started happening more and more so Dad went to go dig around,” Dean said.

“That was three weeks ago, we haven’t heard from him since,” your voice softened as Sam looked up at you. You held eye contact until Dean spoke.

“And then, we get this voicemail.” Dean pulled out his phone and played the voicemail that John left you last night, the whole reason that you booked it to go get Sam.

“Dean, something is starting to happen..I think it’s serious

I need to try to figure out what’s going on. Be very careful,

Protect Y/N. We are all in danger.”

You watched Sam the whole time as he listened to it, his facial structure not really changing. “You know there’s EVP on that,” Sam said, nodding to the recording.

“Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike isn’t it?” Dean smiled between his brother and you but then continued to explain to Sam how you slowed down the tape to find out what that EVP was saying. When Dean played it back, all it said was “I can never go home.”

Sam whispered it back to him while Dean slammed the trunk and then leaned against it. You walked over to stand in front of him, your arms crossed, “we really need your help, Sam.” You begged.

“In almost two years, we never bothered you or asked you for a thing,” Dean tried to guilt trip Sam which you did not agree with but it was hard to stop Dean from doing what he wanted. Sam sighed, finally agreeing to go.

“I’ll help you find him, but I have to get back first thing Monday morning.” Sam warned but you didn’t wait for him to finish speaking. You ran to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and he couldn’t help but chuckle and hold you up by your waist. You were excited that Sam was coming back, if only for one hunt. Although you and Dean had become the best of friends over the years, Sammy always held a special place in your heart. He was kind and sweet and quiet, just like you used to be before your mother died. He reminded you of your youth.

“What’s on Monday?” You asked as you pulled yourself away from Sam and he started walking back into the apartments to collect his stuff.

“I have an interview,” Sam said, looking at Dean.

“A job interview? Skip it,” Dean shrugged his shoulders but after Sam said ‘interview’ you remembered exactly what he meant. Sam had told you just a few days ago that he had gotten an interview for the Stanford Law School and that was on Monday.

“No, it’s a law school interview,” you whispered, looking at Dean. Dean’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at you.

“It’s my whole future on a plate,” Sam explained, Dean giving him the same confused look he gave you. “We got a deal or not?” Sam asked, Dean eventually nodded and Sam left to go get his things while the two of you stayed in the Impala and waited.

“You knew about all of this and didn’t tell me?” Dean asked, his voice sounded a mix of anger and disappointment but you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Sam asked me not to and all this stuff is important to him, Dean.” You explained yourself, throwing your hands towards the apartment building where Sam was building a life.

“We were important to him at one point, too, Y/N.” You sighed, knowing Dean was right but you still defended Sam.

“Drop it, okay? You know now and that’s all that matters.” You knew that wasn’t going to fly especially when Dean scoffed and looked out his window instead of at you.

Tags: @ kaelyn-lobrutto24

#supernatural #supernatural rewrite #01x01 #spn #spn rewrite #sam x reader #dean x reader #supernatural pilot #season one episode one #spn fic #spn imagine #reader insert #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader

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oveliagirlhaditright · 1 year

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I'm kind of sad that we didn't get the Buffy the Vampire Slayer leprechaun episode that the writers almost accidentally wrote. (Like, I guess Joss Whedon one time joked about wanting a leprechaun episode and the writers legit thought he was serious about it. And they were working on it, researching leprechaun myths and everything, and then he had to tell them that he'd been kidding.)

The closest thing we get to leprechaun in the Buffyverse is probably in the tie-in book (that's actually a "choose your own adventure book") "Colony." Where there seems to be something similar to a leprechaun, that Buffy keeps calling a leprechaun/comparing to a leprechaun. But it's not a leprechaun, because I guess leprechauns don't exist in the Buffyverse (part of me wonders if that was an inside joke about that aforementioned thing, but I have no idea. Probably not?) At least according to this tie-in novel.

#buffy the vampire slayer #part of me kind of wonders why NOT a leprechaun episode? we have other weird things. it could have potentially worked #and we could have tied in stuff with angel's home and past perhaps. idk. -shrugs-#side note: i love in the tie-in book buffy just seeing the leprechaun looking thing and getting all excited and going 'leprechaun!'#and angel in particular (i mean. the others kind of are too. like giles) just kind of shaking his head and going 'it's not a leprechaun'#and he knows because he fought the thing before. but i also wonder if it's because if leprechauns were real (which they aren't in this #story). they would have been in ireland according to legend. and angel grew up in ireland so he's like 'no buffy. no.'#anyway. now i'm reminded of how my sister and i. back in the day. always wanted a supernatural episode about dreamcatchers that never happe #*happened #i even started writing a fic about it more than a decade ago. i'd say i should have finished it--and i probably should have--but my writing #back then was so bad that even if i would have liked the story back #then by now i would hate said fic #and be wanting to rewrite it if nothing else #ANYWAY a dreamcatcher episode of supernatural in the early seasons would have been cool #you know... it would have been pretty great if the non-leprechaun thing in colony had somehow ended up being a leprechaun though.#thus proving buffy right #like maybe the other one angel had fought like it (or that he thought was like it) wasn't. but this one was. and thus everyone was wrong #that would have been a good twist and kind of funny. because it WAS leprechaun-y and i get why buffy was saying what she did i mean. lol #Oh. I should probably mention that the non-leprechaun thing in colony is a side thing. Not the main plot

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professorsta · 1 year

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Fandoms are weird nowadays! It's like people watch a movie or show and instead of trying to understand the message the creator is wanting to send, or the idea meant to be conveyed, fans just criticize, co-opt, and refuse to acknowledge the writers vision and intent. Explaining how they would have done it or how better it would have been if it was written their way. Supernatural for example was a show ripe with criticisms, but it honestly would have done the fandom a disservice if, from the get go, we didn't like and didn't care to see where Eric Kripke was taking the story. The show was filled with rich plots and characters with very interesting questions about morality, family, sin, good and bad, but none of that would have been appreciated if the fandom wasn't able to look past the dead end arcs and throw away character in the first couple of seasons (which allowed the grey areas lacking in depth, helping in bringing about the fandom btw) and instead tried to "salvage" or "save" the story by completely rewriting the world and characters. Building theories and finding evidence to fill in the missing puzzle piece in your mind is essentially what the point of a fandom was. It was seeing canon and going, there's more there that the creators aren't aware of, and I want to delve into it. Its taking all of it, the subtext, context, characters, and psychology (even if it's not to your liking), and using that to further understand the stories point of view. Like loose pieces of thread being tied back together to make sense of the whole picture. It not "this shows narrative shouldn't have concluded like that!" gives no examples in canon as to why and doesn't have an argument to back it up. "Here's how it should be!" completely disregards canon and the message the creator was trying to send and instead replaces it with a completely different one. Now people watch movies and film and get upset when the characters don't act a certain way, not caring to read into context and maybe try and understand from the narratives point of view as to Why they would act like that. They see how flawed and vapid some scenes and episodes are and don't take it for the chance it is, which is to further the narrative yourself. Most fandoms are bred from shows and movies with the biggest plot holes, with a-lot of characters, and a wide range of different characterizations for each of them so just embrace it and embrace the flaws in our creations, because perfection just leads to dead ends.

#this about the Wednesday fandom #like so many people in it I don't think even like #the show #I have my criticisms about it #I don't think it's better than Merlin I'll be honest #but I enjoy Wednesday's character and this isn't my show #so im trying to understand the path the writers and creators and directors want us to follow #and not let my own opinions on writing sway if it's just like #a matter of opinion #cus this isn't my show if I wrote and directed Wednesday it would look and be completely different #but it's not and having a different opinion on how the show should go isn't a critic!#it's a headcanon !#it's a theory !#stop making shows into what you want them to be and just accept them for what they are #supernatural is so shitty and amazing and vapid and shallow and lovely and heartfelt and has such shitty dialogue at times #as well as some of the best episodes and fanfics ever created #I love my shitty shows unabashedly and I'm not blind to their narratives #Merlin ends Sad and a tragedy I can't fucking rewrite that whole narrative and plot line #just because some think it was shitty or too depressing #without completely changing the whole shows vibes and morals and message #I may not agree with the message ! I don't agree with a lot of choices!!#but they were choices made in the canon and I can use other subtext #and other pieces of canon as evidence and support as to why #I think something else is true or better #but that's just it a theory #not canon which is Fine #Wednesday Addams

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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thewnchstrs · 2 years

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Malleus Maleficarum

Pairing: Winchester!Sister (OC)

Summary: Sam, Dean and Ellie travel to Sturbridge, Massachusetts and discover a coven of witches that has killed two people.

Disclaimers: self-harm, suicide, angst, blood, mentions of death

Word Count: 7.4K

S E R I E S M A S T E R L I S T

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Sturbridge, Massachusetts

"She was so scared. I couldn't help; I couldn't do anything to stop it,” Mr. Dutton whispered in regret, staring off into space between Sam and Dean who were questioning him. His eyes flicked back up to them. “And I've talked to the police, and I've talked to the medical examiner and no one can explain it."

I shined my flashlight around every inch of the master bathroom that Janet Dutton died in, only half listening to their conversation as I searched for anything out of the ordinary that could give us a reason to believe this was our kind of job. "Well, that's why they put the call in to us Mr. Dutton."

"But the CDC, that's disease control, right? What do you think; it's some kind of virus?"

"We're not ruling out anything yet,” Dean said. I began searching through their medicine cabinet, pushing aside prescription bottles and bandaid boxes, but nothing was in there, either. “Mr. Dutton did Janet have any enemies?"

There was a beat of silence behind the bathroom door as Mr. Dutton processed the question. "I'm sorry?"

"Anyone that might have a reason to hurt her?" Sam asked this time. I rifled through the tall pantry, shuffling through the neatly folded towels, baskets of small perfume bottles, extra toothbrushes, hand soap. Absolutely nothing of interest.

"Wait, what are you saying? That somebody...poisoned her?"

"I'm just saying we have to cover every base here."

"Well, I mean, what kind of poison? You think a person could have done this?”

I nearly gave up on the search before I spotted the double cabinets beneath the sink. I squatted down, pulling them open where sure enough, a hex bag was stuffed between the pipes. I sighed, pulling it free and placing it into my pocket.

“Would anyone want to?" Sam was asking as I returned to the room. Mr. Dutton was standing now, looking horrified.

"What?! No, no, there's just no one that could've—" He paused, looking off into space again in thought.

Dean raised his eyebrows at us before waving a hand in front of his face. "Mr. Dutton?"

Whatever trance Mr. Dutton was in, he seemed to snap out of it quickly. He blinked twice, looking back at us. "Uh, everyone loved Janet."

Yeah, totally not weird and suspicious at all. Sam nodded once. "Okay. Thank you very much; I think we've got everything we need. We'll get out of your way now."

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Sam, Dean and I stepped out onto the wet porch of Mr. Dutton’s house. "That dude seem a little evasive to you?" Dean asked.

"I don't know I was under a sink, pulling this out,” I said, tossing it to Sam who caught it before it could drop to the ground. "Hex bag."

"Awww gross,” Dean groaned as Sam opened it up in his palm.

"Yeah, there are bird bones, rabbit's teeth. This cloth is probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned."

Dean shivered at the thought as we kept walking. Sam looked over to me. "So we're thinking witch?"

"Uh, yeah, and not some new age wicked water douser either. This is Old World black magic, I mean, warts and all,” I said as we slid into the car, the rain coming down harder now.

There was a beat of silence in the car before Dean turned in his seat toward us. "I hate witches." Sam and I chuckled at the rant we knew Dean was about to go on, the same one he always went on when we dealt with witches. "They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere. It's creepy, you know, it's down right unsanitary."

"Yeah, well someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton."

"Yeah, someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag,” Dean said, glancing up at the home. “So what are we thinking, we're uh, looking for some old craggy Blair bitch in the woods."

I shook my head, "No it could be anyone. Neighbor, coworker, man, woman—that's the problem, they're human, they're like everyone else."

"Great,” Dean exasperated. “How do we find 'em?"

I thought about it, the brutal way in which Janet died: choking on her own blood after all of her teeth fell out, seemingly out of nowhere. "This wasn't random; someone in Janet Dutton's life had an ugly axe to grind. We find the motive—"

"We find the murderer,” Sam finished. Dean nodded once before peeling away from the curb.

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I sighed, tapping my fingertips against the door with my chin in my hand, people watching the patrons walk in and out of the pub just across from our stakeout spot. “I’m telling you guys, give me five minutes in that bar to hustle some pool money-”

“El, we’re working,” Sam reprimanded. I looked over Dean’s shoulder toward Mr. Dutton’s car that we’ve been tailing for the past four hours. He was parked in an empty lot after we’d just followed him through a drive thru.

“Yeah, and it’s thrilling,” I said sarcastically as I let out a puff of air, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t think anything’s going on here, you guys.”

“Wait,” Sam shushed me and just seconds later, Mr. Dutton’s car flew open as he fell to the ground. Dean immediately put the car into drive, barreling across the two lane road and skidded to a stop just inches from Mr. Dutton who was kneeling on the ground, gasping for air.

"Check the car!" Dean shouted to Sam and I. Sam ran toward the driver’s seat as I pulled open the back, reaching shoulder-deep under the seats, my hands searching blindly.

"Hurry up!" Dean called from behind us where he was kneeled beside Mr. Dutton who was trying to cough but couldn't, his wheezes for air becoming more and more desperate.

"Got it!" Sam suddenly shouted, holding the hex bag up. He grabbed his lighter, catching the hex bag ablaze before dropping it to the road.

"Come on.” Dean lifted Mr. Dutton off the ground as he grasped his chest, finally able to breathe again. "You okay?"

Mr. Dutton looked at us with wild eyes. "What the hell is happening to me?!"

"Someone murdered your wife and now they're trying to kill you, that's what's happening to you,” Sam said.

"That's impossible! There's no way—"

"If we hadn't have been following you, you'd be a doornail right now. Now who wants you dead?" Dean demanded.

Mr. Dutton looked at us as if we were crazy but wracked his brain for an answer, "I-uh..."

"Come on think."

"There's a woman—uh—"

"A woman, okay?"

"An affair—a mistake, she was un-balanced, she was blackmailing me and I put an end to it a week ago."

I raised my eyebrows at this. An affair would make sense, why this woman would want Janet dead. "What's her name?"

Mr. Dutton looked at me, confused, "Wha–what could she have to do with—?"

"Paul! What is her name?"

Mr. Dutton paused, watching us. “Amanda...Amanda Burns.”

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Paul Dutton cracked pretty fast when it came to giving us Amanda’s address. I quietly picked the lock of the front door, leading the way into the dimly lit house. I entered the living room first, keeping my gun held high as I rounded the corner where a brunette woman in a black dress laid face down over a glass coffee table. I tilted my head at the blood pooled beneath her. "That's a curveball."

"Yeah."

Dean approached her, using his gun to rotate her wrists to the side as he confirmed what I’d suspected: "Three per wrist, vertical. She wasn't foolin' around."

Sam held a hand over his nose and mouth as he lowered himself to the floor beside the table. I followed his line of sight to a knocked over spell book and a plate of rotting food, maggots crawling in and out of it. There was a board with a sigil painted across the front, a knife, and a denim shirt beneath it all that I assumed was Paul Dutton’s. "Yeah, looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here."

"Oh god!” Dean shouted suddenly. I drew my gun towards Dean who’s eyes were wide, staring at the rabbit suspended by his feet from the ceiling behind him. I sighed, dropping my gun. “Fuckin' witches! Seriously man, come on!"

"Guess we know where she got the rabbit's teeth from,” Sam said. The rabbit was long since dead, its once-white fur now matted with dark blood.

"Well, Paul sure knows how to pick 'em huh? It's like Fatal Attraction all over again,” Dean said, looking back at the rabbit, his face falling. “And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal?! Poor little guy."

"You know what I don't get?” Sam said, making Dean and I look to him. “If she was so bent on revenge, why do this?"

I shrugged, "Well, she got Janet Dutton, thought she finished off Paul, decided to cap herself and make it a spurned lover's hat-trick...I mean, this doesn't exactly look like the TV room of a bright and stable person, you know?"

Sam kneeled down to the floor, inspecting beneath the coffee table. "No, but then...there's this.” Sam stood, throwing me a small object, wrapped in brown leather.

"Another hex bag? Come on!" Dean groaned, shaking his head. "Looks like we got a hit, huh? A little witch-on-witch violence?"

"I guess,” I said, tossing the hex bag onto the coffee table.

Dean pulled out his phone, dialing 911. "Hi, I'd like to report a dead body...309 Mayfair Circle...My name? Yeah, sure my name is—” Dean cut himself off, snapping his phone shut. “Why are witches ganking each other?"

Sam sighed, "I don't know, but I think maybe we got a coven on our hands."

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

"You must have a green thumb,” Sam said as we approached Elizabeth’s house where she was out in her garden, digging in the dirt. This was our first suspect, someone Amanda had been friends with for years.

“Excuse me?” She said, looking up at us.

“Getting these herbs to grow out of season like this, quite impressive,” Sam said before stopping. “I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself first. I'm Detective Bachman, this is Detective Turner and Detective Thornton.” He motioned to each of us as we flashed her our fake badges.

“Hi-ya,” Dean smirked.

“We're following up on Amanda Burns' death, going around the neighborhood and talking to neighbors, stuff like that,” I said.

Amanda stood, watching us in what I believed to be feigned confusion, “But didn't she— I mean...she...killed herself...right?”

“Maybe, maybe,” Sam said, vaguely. “We heard you were friends with the deceased right?”

Elizabeth shrugged, obviously anxious at the questioning. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Did you have any idea about her practices?”

She furrowed her eyebrows at my question. “I'm sorry, what kind of practices?”

“Well see, her house was littered with Satanic paraphernalia.”

“A regular Black Sabbath,” Dean added.

“No, the— but she was an Episcopalian.”

“Well, then we're pretty sure she was using the wrong Bible,” Dean chuckled.

“Elizabeth, you alright?” A voice asked from behind us. We turned, two women coming up the driveway. They rounded us as they stood on either side of Elizabeth.

“I'm fine...Renee, these are detectives,” Elizabeth hesitated. “They say Amanda was— she was practicing-”

“I'm sorry detectives; you can tell that Elizabeth is a little bit upset,” the blonde woman said, running a soothing hand down Elizabeth’s arm.

I narrowed my eyes at them. Something was definitely fishy about these three. “Of course, Miss…?”

“Mrs. Renee. Van. Allen,” she said, punctuating each part of her name. “Would you like me to spell it for you?”

I raised my eyebrows at her, biting my tongue. “I'll get by, thanks.”

“This Amanda business has been hard for Liz,” Mrs. Renee Van Allen said. She tightened the grip she had on Elizabeth’s arm. “For all of us.”

Elizabeth seemed frightened to even speak for herself as the other brunette woman spoke up this time, “Yeah. I mean, you think you know a person.”

“Well, I guess we all have secrets don't we?” Dean said. I could tell him and Sam both had their suspicious about them, too.

“Well, thanks,” Sam said, maintaining intense eye contact with Elizabeth that she couldn’t return. “We'll be in touch.”

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

Dean’s POV

After leaving Ellie at the motel to research more into what we didn’t already know about witches, Sam and I went out to see if we could find anything else on these women. It was nearly pitch black as we made our way back.

“Well, I'm already sold on that Elizabeth chick. Did you see that victory garden of hers?” I said as I drove. “Belladonna, wolfsbane, mandrake, not to mention that little flinch she threw when we mentioned the occult.”

“Well, she's definitely had a good run lately, gone up a few tax brackets; won almost too many raffles. Kinda thing a little black magic always helps with,” Sam said as he read through the local paper and other files we were able to scrounge up. “I don't think she's alone either. I looked into 'Mrs. Renee Van Allen'. She’s won almost every craft contest she has entered in the past three months.”

“Yeah, a regular Martha Stewart, huh? Except for the devil worship, I'm thinking that was the coven we met back there, minus one member,” I said, shaking my head. “Amanda was clearly going off the reservation. What do you think, they killed her to keep up appearances?”

“Seems like an appearance kind of crowd, don't you think?” Sam said.

“Yeah...if they killed the nut-job, should we uh, thank them or what?”

“They're working black magic too, Dean. They need to be stopped,” Sam said, folding up the paper.

I paused, glancing over to him as I suddenly remembered mine and Ellie’s conversation. “'Stopped' like stopped?” Sam shot me a look saying he was serious. It was never like him to think that way. “They're human, Sam.”

“They're murderers,” he corrected.

Pushing aside how out of character it was for Sam, it seemed justified to me. I looked back to the road, satisfied. “Burn witch, burn.”

Then, the car began to rattle and sputter. I looked down, confused, as I took my hands off the wheel. “What the hell?”

The headlights began to flicker. One second, they were off, and we were drowning in darkness and the next second they turned back on, there was a figure, illuminated in the golden light. The car rolled to a stop right in front of a woman, her arms crossed over her chest. I felt for the Colt in my jacket, gripping it by its hilt. We stood from the car, the woman unmoving.

“Ruby?” Sam said in confusion. I raised my eyebrows, looking back at her.

“Sam, listen to me, there's no time,” Ruby urged.

"For what? What are you talking about?"

"You have to get out of town."

"So this is Ruby, huh? Never had the pleasure,” I said, bringing the Colt out and aiming it at her.

"Dean!"

"I was hoping you'd show up again."

Ruby only watched me, unfazed. "Point that thing somewhere else."

"Hahahaha! Right,” I said sarcastically.

She sighed, looking back to Sam, "Sam, please. Go. Get in the car and don't look back."

"Why? I don't understand."

"Hey, hot stuff, we can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks,” I said, making Ruby roll her eyes as she turned her attention back to me.

"I'm not talking about witches, you jackass. Witches are whores,” she spat. “I'm talking about who they serve."

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking to Sam for answers when his face fell. "Demons. They get their power from demons."

"Yeah. And there's one here, now."

I scoffed, "Oh, what, you mean besides you?"

"Sam, it knows you're in town and it's gonna come after you and it’s way more than you can handle."

I looked to Sam who suddenly seemed worried. I widened my eyes. "Oh come on, what is this, huh? Please tell me you're not listening to this crap!"

"Put a leash on your brother, Sam, if you wanna keep him."

"Dean, look, just chill out."

"No...no! She's messing with your head, god knows why, that's who they are!" I shouted, waving the gun in her direction. I was not going to let Sam make me feel like the crazy one.

"I'm telling you the truth,” Ruby interfered.

"And I'm telling you to shut up, bitch."

"I'm sorry, why are you even a part of this conversation?!" She yelled, stepping closer.

"Oh, I don't know maybe because he's my brother, you black-eyed skank!"

"Oh, right, right. You care about your brother so much. That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?"

My heart sank, praying Sam hadn’t heard her, but in my peripherals I could see Sam whip his head toward me. I tightened my hand on the gun. "Shut up."

Ruby knew she hit right where it hurt. She leaned forward, only inches from the gun now. "At least let me try and save him, since you won't be here to do it any more."

"I said shut up!"

I brought my finger back on the trigger, but Sam was faster as he bent my arm upwards, shooting a round into the sky. I opened my eyes, looking around, but Ruby was nowhere to be found.

“Damn it!” I shouted, shaking my head, turning away from Sam. I could feel his eyes on me.

“What did she mean, Dean?” He nearly whispered.

I ran a hand down my face before turning to him, acting like I hadn’t heard him when in reality I was buying myself time to think of an excuse. I didn’t want him to find out like this. I didn’t want them to find out at all, not until I was already gone. “What?”

Sam took a step closer. He was angry. “What did she mean...when she said you were checking out- what did she mean!?”

“Sam, c’mon, I have no idea!” I lied through my teeth.

Sam’s face shifted into realization. “What did you do, Dean?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. Guilt corroded my insides. Guilt because I’d been lying to them, guilt because I know what I was going to put them through would kill them. I scoffed, shaking my head. “Sam...”

“You took her deal, didn’t you?”

I slowly looked back to him, fear clouding over his face. There was no use in lying to him anymore. I’d done that too much already. “I couldn’t let her go, Sam...” Sam’s shoulders fell in defeat and shock. “You said it yourself...we couldn’t let her go.”

“I didn’t mean take her place, Dean!” He shouted, his breath coming out in smoke against the cold air. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say a thing. “So...what, now we have to lose you? Our plan this whole time was to come up with something so none of us would die! Did you forget that part!?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” I shouted back. “It was me, or her and if not one of us it was you, Sam! There was no way out of it so I...” I stopped myself, lowering my voice. “I had to do it. I have to protect you two.”

Sam shook his head, tears brimming his eyes. “Does Ellie know?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat before shaking my head. Sam nodded once, looking away from me. “She can’t know, Sam. She can’t.”

“You can’t ask me to do that.”

“Well, I am,” I said. His eyes flicked to mine. “You have to promise me. You won’t tell her. Promise me that, Sam. Please.” He clenched his jaw, walking back toward the car before slipping inside. I looked up at the dark sky, wishing Hell would open its flaming mouth and just pull me under now.

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

Ellie’s POV

The silence in the motel room was almost serene. I plopped myself onto the motel bed, a cloud of stale stench floating into the air from the ancient comforter. After nearly six hours of research on witches, my hand was cramping and my ass was sore from the motel’s hard wooden chairs. I stretched my legs out, clicking the small TV set on just as the door flew open, Sam and Dean arguing loudly.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Sam said as he came in behind Dean, slamming the door. I rolled my head backwards onto the wall, annoyed, switching the TV back off.

"What?! What the hell was I thinking?" Dean shot back, yanking his jacket off his shoulders and throwing it roughly onto his bed. "She's a demon, Sam. Period. Alright? They want us dead, we want them dead!”

“What happened?” I asked, watching as they moved across the room in a flurry, Sam hot on Dean’s trail.

They ignored me as they continued to go at each other. "Oh, that's funny; I remember that demon chick in Ohio, Casey? You didn't want her dead."

"Yeah, well she wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook."

"No one's stringing me along! Look, I know it's dangerous, that she is dangerous, but like it or not, she's useful."

"No! We kill her before she kills us."

"Kill her with what? The gun she fixed for us?"

"Whatever works."

I closed my eyes, absentmindedly rubbing at the side of my abdomen, chocking the dull pain up to the two day old takeout I’d eaten out of desperation.

"Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives,” Sam retorted, making Dean roll his eyes as he went to the bathroom, splashing water on his face. “Look, we have to start looking at the big picture Dean, start thinking in strategies and – and moves ahead. It's not so simple, we're not – we're not just hunting anymore...we're at war."

I peeked an eye out, glancing at them in the momentary silence. “Are you guys done-”

"Are you feeling okay?" Dean interrupted, making Sam shake his head as he sat on the end of our bed.

"Why are you always asking me that?"

"Because you're taking advice from a demon, for starters. And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people. You know, it used to eat you up inside."

"Yeah, and what has that gotten me?"

My eyes bounced between the two of them, rubbing rhythmic circles over my stomach. I was still trying to figure out what the hell had happened while they were gone.

"Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay? We're supposed to drive in the fuckin' car and fuckin' argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that shit."

The pain in my stomach began to grow more intense. I sat up further on the bed, hoping my position would relieve some of the pressure, to no avail. I pushed my palm against it, wincing.

"Wait, so– so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you?" Sam asked, looking up at Dean who was tossing the contents of his pocket onto the table.

"No, I'm not mad, I'm— I'm— I'm worried, Sam— I'm worried because you're not acting like yourself.”

"Yeah, you're right, I'm not. I don't have a choice."

Dean narrowed his eyes at him, stopping his movement. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Look, Dean...things are changing. And the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after...” Sam paused, him and Dean sharing a strange look. A silent conversation that I couldn’t quite place. “Then I gotta change."

"Change into what?"

"Into you,” Sam said after a beat of silence passed. “I gotta be more like you."

I sat up further on the bed, holding my side as I leaned forward, my face contorting in pain. Dean looked over at me as if he’d just noticed I was there. "What's going on with you?"

"I don't know,” I groaned as the pain quickly grew sharper until I gasped, feeling like I was being stabbed from the inside. “Something's wrong—"

"Ellie?" Sam said quickly, rounding the bed and kneeling in front of me. He gripped my shoulder.

"Son of a bitch—" I groaned, wrapping my arms around my midsection.

"Ellie, hey,” Dean said this time.

When I opened my eyes they were both in front of me, watching me worriedly. I panted, the pain just becoming more and more intense as I thought of the only solution I could come up with: "The coven...it's gotta be the coven."

I reached a hand out toward anyone and anything, grasping for air before finding Sam’s jacket, twisting it in my hand before they quickly pushed off the floor, turning the room upside down for the hex bag that had to be in here somewhere.

Sweat began to bead down my body as the sound of cabinets opening and closing filled the room, chairs being overturned, and our things being dumped from our duffle bags. I coughed, leaning forward as I felt something climbing up my throat. I dropped to the floor between the two beds, gagging as blood spurted from my mouth and down onto the linoleum floors. I quickly got onto my hands and knees, trying to clear my airways before my arms collapsed under me, sending me sprawling to the floor.

I didn’t have enough energy to pull myself up. I watched Sam above me as he threw the blankets off the bed and dug his knife into the mattresses, calling to Dean, “Did you find it!?”

"No,” Dean said as he came beside me, rolling me onto my side. "Sam, what are you doing?"

I opened an eye between fits of coughing up blood to where Sam was counting the bullets in the Colt, not saying a word to either of us. He threw the motel door open and all we could hear was the Impala’s engine roar to life.

"Sam!” Dean called after him, but once we could no longer hear the car he turned back, cursing Sam under his breath. “It’ll be okay. It’s okay.”

Blood continued to poor from my mouth and onto the floor, the pain only becoming more unbearable by the second.

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

Sam’s POV

I made it back to Elizabeth’s house in nearly half the time it should’ve taken me. I kicked down the front door, barging in, gun drawn at the coven standing around a seance table in the middle of the living room. They let out shrieks of surprised as they quickly stood with their hands in the air.

"Let her go." I couldn’t waste a second. I knew Ellie wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

"Let who go? What are you doing?” Renee asked, obviously startled. “You're insane, get out!"

"Look, if you know about me, then you know about this gun. You're killing my sister. Now let her go,” I warned. “Get away from the altar."

"What?"

"Now!"

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

Ellie’s POV

I sat hunched over on all fours as Dean sat beside me, unsure of what to do except pray that Sam was doing something useful. Then, the motel door was kicked inward. Dean and I whipped our heads toward the door where a woman with long blonde hair sauntered in.

“Ruby?” Dean questioned.

"Ahh, you’re Ruby? You wanna kill me? Get in line bitch,” I groaned, blood smeared across my face. Ruby came deeper into the room, making Dean stand in front of me.

“Get back, Ruby.” “You want me to save her sorry ass or not?”

Dean looked back down at me as I spit a wad of blood onto the floor. Suddenly, I was being lifted up by my shirt and thrown onto the bed. I kicked her away from me before she pinning my arms down with her knees and poured black liquid into my mouth. I gasped around it, but I instantly began to feel better. Dean yelled something at her, making her climb off of me. I sat up, the excess liquid spilling down my chest. I looked to Dean, and then her in confusion.

Ruby was panting, glaring at me. “Don’t...call me bitch."

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

Sam’s POV

"Go,” I demanded, the three women filing into a line with their hands still raised in surrender.

"What— we— we weren't hurting anyone,” Elizabeth stammered.

"Please, we don't even know your sister!” Renee tried to convince me, but it wasn’t going to work.

"Stop the spell, or die,” I said firmly. “Five seconds."

"What?” Renee gasped.

I cocked the gun. "Four."

"No, please, please don't kill us!” Elizabeth begged. "We were just getting Renee a lower mortgage rate!"

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

Ellie’s POV

"Next time you point that gun at me, I'm not gonna just disappear, understand?" Ruby said to Dean.

"You...saved my life,” I said, confused as I sat on the end of the bed.

"Don't mention it."

"What was that stuff, anyway?” Dean asked.

“God, it was ass,” I shivered and then thought about it. “It tasted like ass."

"It's called witchcraft, short bus.” Ruby turned, leaving the motel through the broken door.

"You're the short bus...” Dean called after her but Ruby didn’t turn back. Dean’s voice immediately grew quieter at his comeback. “Short bus."

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

Sam’s POV

The women weren’t giving me much to work with and I was pretty sure Ellie that if Ellie weren’t dead already, she would be soon. I gripped the gun, trying to clear my head as I analyzed the women, recalling what I knew about them.

"Okay, maybe it's not you,” I said, beginning at the front of the line with Elizabeth. I trailed the gun to Renee next, “—or you.” That left me with one option: Tammi Benton. The one out of the group we hadn’t been able to dig up much on. I cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe it's you."

Tammi’s eyes widened as Elizabeth and Renee looked to her in fear. "I don't even know what he's talking about. What are you even talking about?!"

"I mean, all of you, everyone in your little coven, you've all had runs of good fortune. Newsworthy good fortune. Except for you, Tammi,” I said, the pieces suddenly clicking together. I stepped toward her. “Now tell me, why is that? You didn't want anything for yourself? Or is it because you're already getting what you wanted – like these women's souls."

Elizabeth and Renee’s eyes grew wider at my words. Tammi continued to stumble, "I can't- I-I'm not- I-I-I don't..." Then, she stopped. Her facial expression changed as she let her hands drop to her sides, her eyes turning pitch black. "Nice dick work, Magnum."

I brought the gun up to her, gripping it with both hands. "Let. My sister. Go."

"What's wrong? Couldn't find my hex bag? Sorry, sweetheart, but your sister’s lungs should be on the floor by now."

I ground my teeth as I lightly pulled back against the trigger and released a bullet from the Colt, but before it could reach her, the demon brought her hand up, stopping it in mid air. I watched in shock as it fell to the floor with a clank. The demon smiled. "You're in a lot of trouble, Sam."

With that, she brought her hand up, sending me flying across the room and pinning me to the far wall. I groaned at the impact, watching in horror as Elizabeth and Renee turned to who they thought was their friend.

"Tammi, what's wrong with your eyes?" Elizabeth asked.

"Tammi, what are you doing?" Renee gasped.

"Renee, shut your painted hole,” the demon snapped.

"What?” Renee said in disbelief. “I- I will— you can't— not in my house, Tammi Benton-" The demon snapped Renee’s neck then, making her instantly fall to the floor in a heap. Elizabeth slapped her hands over her mouth, muffling her screams of terror.

"Look. You got me – let the girl go,” I tried to reason.

"Wait your turn, young man,” the demon hissed and turned back to Elizabeth who was shaking uncontrollably. “Shhh...Lizzie. It’s okay.”

"You're not Tammi,” Elizabeth breathed out.

The demon had her hand running through Elizabeth’s curls. "No, but I'm wearing her meat. I had to break the ice with you girls somehow."

Her eyes were brimmed with tears. "You killed Renee."

"Renee, Amanda...” the demon listed, circling the room like a caged tiger. “That's what happens to witches who get voted off the island."

"Who are you?"

The demon chuckled. "Funny story, actually. You remember all those dark demonic forces you prayed to, when you swore your servitude? Just who did you think you were praying to?"

"This- this isn't – it can't b—"

"What did you think it was? Make-believe? Positive thinking? The Secret? No, it was me. You sold yourself to me, you pig." Elizabeth’s hands were clutched close to her chest as tears silently fell down her cheeks. "All I had to do was bring one good book to book club, and you ladies lined up to kiss my ass."

Elizabeth began furiously shaking her head. "No, no, we didn't know—"

"Oh, yes you did. You knew every step of the way, and now your ever living souls are mine,” the demon smiled. "Comments? Questions?” Elizabeth continued to stare at her silently, frozen in fear before the demon turned to me. “Hmm, Sammy Winchester, wow! Right here in our little town. You know, my friends and I, we've been looking for you."

"Why?” I said before scoffing, rolling my eyes. “Oh, right, 'cause I'm supposed to lead some piss-poor demon army."

"No, not at all. You're not our Messiah. We don't believe in you...But, there's a new leader rising in the West – a real leader,” she said, coming closer. I furrowed my eyebrows at her words. “That's the horse to bet on, Sam, the one who's gonna tear this world apart. Thing is, this demon? It doesn't like you very much. It doesn't want the competition." I watched as the demon raised her hand and I slowly began to slide up the wall, the pressure against my chest becoming heavier and heavier. I grimaced, clenching my fists. "Nothing personal, it's a P.R. thing, so, buh-bye."

The demon pressed her hand forward until it felt like my chest was going to collapse in on itself. The wall behind me began to crack, plaster and drywall falling to the floor below me. I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the impact when the front door flew open, Dean and Ellie running through, guns blazing. I let out a breath of relief at the sight of them.

Then, demon simply flicked her other hand, sending the two of them flying to two separate walls. From this angle, we could all see each other. They winced at the impact. I looked to Ellie, wondering how the hell she was even alive.

"Three for one. Lovely."

Then, there was another set of footsteps coming into the house. The demon turned to Ruby who followed behind, her hands raised. "Wait. Please. I just...came to talk."

She turned toward Ruby, looking surprised. "You made it out of the gate. Impressive. That was a bitch of a fight, wasn't it?"

"Doors out of Hell only open for so long."

"What do you want, Ruby?"

Ruby stepped closer to her. "I've been lost without you. Take me back. That's why I led the Winchesters here.”

I glanced to Dean and Ellie, feeling guilty. Dean was shaking his head, mouthing: I told you so!

“They're for you...as a gift,” Ruby said, the demon looking between her and us.

"Really?"

"Let me serve you again. I've wanted it – I've wanted you – for so long,” she whispered, making Dean’s eyebrows shoot upward.

"You were one of my best,” the demon whispered back. Ruby smiled sweetly before quickly bringing a knife up and over the demon’s head, but the demon grabbed the blade before it made impact. "But then again, you always were a lying whore."

The demon tossed the blade across the room, making it slide across the floor and stopping in front of the alter. Ruby began throwing punches at the demon’s face, grabbing her shoulders and kneeing her in the stomach. Then, the demon grabbed Ruby’s arms where they were holding her jacket, using them as leverage to slam her forehead into Ruby’s nose. The resounding crunch of cartilage filled the room. Dean, Ellie and I flinched as blood began pouring down Ruby’s face, but she kept fighting, blindly swinging her fists but the demon had the upper hand. She grabbed Ruby, punching her twice over her face before kicking her backwards into the TV, electrical sparks flying upwards.

The demon gave Ruby enough time to roll off of the shattered TV before knocking her to the floor again. Ruby panted, blood coating her face. The demon grabbed her by her jacket, lifted her easily and tossed her across the room into a bookshelf. Ruby went sprawling backwards, the shelf breaking in half as Ruby just laid there, no fight left in her. The demon sauntered toward the fireplace where Elizabeth was backed up against. She grabbed a fire poker, smirking at Elizabeth before turning back to Ruby. "You're really telling me you threw in your chips with the Three Stooges here?"

Ruby struggled to sit up as the demon swung the fire poker, striking her across the face, sending her falling back down. "Come on. Get up." The demon demanded, but Ruby stayed down. There was movement behind the demon then. My eyes flicked to Elizabeth who quietly ran to the alter on the other side of the room, pouring out a bowl of sewing needles. "I said, get up!"

Fed up, the demon threw the poker to the side and kneeled over Ruby, pulling her up by her jacket. "We've been here before, haven't we?" The demon looked over at us. "She didn't tell you? Pretty mortifying, I guess. She was one of mine. I turned her out a long, long time ago.” Ruby’s head started going limp. I watched the color drain from her face but the demon held it up to look into her eyes. “Ruby here was a witch. Of course, that was when you were human. Didn't want your friends to know that all those centuries back, you sold yourself to me? Embarrassing, I guess. But don't worry love, no secrets where you're heading remember?"

Ruby stared back at her as the demon threw her back onto the debris. The demon stood over her, reciting an exorcism. Ruby clenched her fists as the black smoke began to escape her mouth. Dean, Ellie and I trying desperately to peel ourselves off the walls but it was no use. The demon continued the incantation before she suddenly stopped, bringing her hand to her mouth as she violently began coughing.

I looked to the back of the living room where Elizabeth was sitting behind the alter, her eyes closed as she chanted something quietly that I couldn’t quite make out. We watched as the black smoke returned to Ruby’s body, but the demon continued coughing harder and harder, trying to catch her breath. Each cough made the grip she had on us looser until we each fell to the floor.

I groaned, turning to look back at the demon as she pulled her hand away from her mouth, her palm filled with dark blood and three long sewing needles. Her lips were stained crimson as she looked up, realizing what’d happened to her. She brought up her other hand, clasping it into a fist. Elizabeth’s chanting immediately stopped as she grasped her chest, gasping for air before limply falling forward onto the alter. Then, seemingly from out of nowhere, Dean came up from behind the demon, holding her firmly to his chest as he stabbed her over and over again in her side with Ruby’s knife. The demon’s face was contorted into pain as she flickered orange before dropping dead to the floor.

Ellie stood, rubbing the back of her head where she’d collided with the wall, inspecting the damage inside the house. Dean came around, helping me off the ground. We came to a stop in front of the demon who laid with her mouth wide open, her hand still curled into a tight fist. Ruby stood, wiping the blood from her nose. "Go. I'll clean up this mess."

"Come on,” Dean said, laying a hand on mine and Ellie’s shoulders, leading us to the door when I stopped, looking back over my shoulder to Ruby.

Her eyes clicked to black threateningly. "I said, go."

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

Dean's POV

I was outside of the motel room, throwing our weapons into the arsenal in the trunk when the fluorescent lights outside began flickering wildly. I paused, a low humming filling the parking lot. I looked from my left to my right, trying to prepare myself for whatever the hell was about to show up. I reached around behind me for the Colt. I checked my surroundings again when I spotted Ruby a few feet away form me, her arms crossed.

I let out a small breath of relief as the lights stopped flickering. I let go of the gun. "So the devil may care after all, is that what I'm supposed to believe?"

"I don't believe in the devil.”

I raised my eyebrows as I shook my head, shutting and locking the arsenal. "Wacky night...So let me get this straight, you were human once, you died, you went to hell, you became uh-"

"Yeah,” she said simply as she turned and started walking away.

"How long ago?"

"Back when the plague was big."

I paused, really thinking about what she was telling me. "So all of 'em – every damn demon – they were all human once?"

Ruby turned back to me, "Every one I've ever met."

"Well, they sure don't act like it."

"Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is: forgetting what you are."

"Philosophy lesson from a demon. I'll pass, thanks."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "It's not philosophy. It's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit. Agonies you can't even imagine."

I shrugged, "No, I saw 'Hellraiser'. I get the gist."

Ruby ran her tongue over her teeth as she rolled her eyes. "Actually, they got that pretty close. Except for all the custom leather...The answer is yes, by the way."

"I'm sorry?"

"Yes, the same thing will happen to you. It might take centuries, but sooner or later Hell will burn away your humanity,” she said. I felt my stomach flip, watching her to try to see if she were serious or not. “Every Hell-bound soul, every one, turns into something else. Turns you into us. So yeah. Yeah, you can count on it."

I could tell she wasn’t bluffing. I swallowed roughly, realizing now just how bad this was going to get. "There's no way of saving me from the pit, is there?"

"No,” she said simply and for once, I didn’t question her. “I was surprised you'd made it this far, saving Ellie and all. That was smart, what you did."

"Then why'd you tell Sam that you could save her?"

"So he would talk to me. You Winchesters can be pretty bigoted. I needed something to help him get past the–"

"The demon thing? It's pretty hard to get past."

"Look at you. Trying to be all stoic,” she cooed before clicking her tongue. “My god, it's heartbreaking."

I set my jaw, watching her. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"I need your help."

I wasn’t expecting that. "Help with what?"

"With Sam and Ellie. The way you stuck that demon tonight – it was pretty tough. Ellie’s almost there, but Sam...not quite. You need to help me get them ready – for life without you. To fight this war on their own." She turned, walking away from me again.

"Ruby!” I called after her, making her stop. “Why do you want us to win?"

She turned. "Isn't it obvious? I'm not like them. I don't know why. I– I wish I was, but...I'm not. I remember what it's like."

"What what's like?"

"Being human." I held her eyes for only a second longer before dropping them and when I looked back up, she was gone.

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

FOREVER TAG LIST

@spnbaby-67 / @luciferslucille / @anti-social-club / @search-bar / @mellorine-paprika / @thepocketshoelace / @jaremish / @the-salty-asian / @robynannemackenzie-blog / @mersuperwholocked-lowlife / @caswinchester2000 / @damnedimpala / @lauren-novak / @adeanmon / @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce / @defenderrosetyler / @resanoona / @nyotamalfoy/ @ykta-m

EPISODE REWRITE TAG LIST

@strangedeerconnoisseur / @artemisandromedaathena-blog / @elite4cekalyma / @dragon-master-kai / @bxrbiewrites

WINCHESTER SISTER TAG LIST

@bunnyandy12 / @breereadsthings / @slytherinrising / @stressedoutkitten / @dragon-master-kai

*DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.

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kel-b · 2 years

Text

The Winchesters: Pilot Highlights and Thoughts

Better late than never, sorry guys. The cards weren’t in my favor yesterday, or today. It was long and detailed originally when l lost it and would have had to retype it all. So instead, here are a few highlights and my post thoughts.

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Loved the opening. The foggy cemetery, dark of night with only Samuel added a spookiness to it. The caverns were just as creepy but filled me with curiosity and suspense.

The moment the sigil was revealed, l smiled with recognition but didn’t want to jump the gun just yet…

“See ya around Soldier Boy.” (2) 💚🫡💚

John and Mary looking for their missing fathers. Similar parallels, SPN Pilot. Also, Mary's wanting out is another similarity. Sam wanted out, wanted normalcy and went to Stanford…

So many SPN Easter eggs I couldn't write them all down, lol.

BUNKER!!! I squealed when the lights sprang on and I saw the map table, John and Mary standing on the upper walkway looking around with wonder. Took me back to SPN season 8…

Men Of Letters! Because the chamber Samuel was in was so dark at first, even with his light, the sigil was still a little difficult to see.

The Accreta??? There’s a force out there, that’s stronger than Chuck!? aka God himself!? Oh, I can’t wait to learn more!

I was hooked 10 min into it. It was a surreal experience for me, not just as a fan but for me personally. Meg and Drake are the perfect John and Mary. The sheer raw emotion they put into their characters is truly amazing. One thing that stood out was how they seem to mirror Sam and Dean...

Don't let appearances deceive you, Just because Mary mirrors Dean and John mirrors Sam that it means they're all the same...

Dean's narration intro was a surreal moment for me as a fan that came in a year after SPN ended... I grind like a loon and my heart fluttered, lol. When his physical intro scene came in, I shouted in my seat. 🤭

Too many Easter eggs to go over, however, it's the ones that have yet to be seen that have my attention... 😁 I can't wait to see where John and Mary's journey takes us and how all the puzzle pieces fall into place.

#the winchester spoilers #spn prequel #the winchesters #spn #dean winchester #supernatural #jackles #my thoughts #my episode rewrite thoughts #good night tumblr

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thewildones · 11 months

Text

clarice + appalacian cryptids + wendigo's = a possible arc for this blog ?

yes .

#* out of chara .#so hi.. i know i've been a little absent #i'm scatterbrained and going through a depressive episode #i've been trying to write but i keep rewriting everything i write cause i'm an asshole #so bare with me #but also?#as i stated on my main; i want clarice to have a little arc that's based off the supernatural of appalachian folklore #most lead to either ghosts / demons or creatures...#i kind of like the idea of a wendigo because it could be very bloody and gross #but i have to do more research on it #but i'm obsessed either way

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dianawinchester03 · 2 months

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Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist by @dianawinchester03

In this rewrite of CW's hit TV Show 'Supernatural'.

Y/N L/N is a longtime friend of the notorious Winchester Brothers, coming from a long line of hunters herself. Growing up with them, their fathers had a goal of avenging their wives deaths. Currently on her own hunting, much to her own fathers demise, she gets a call from her childhood crush, Dean Winchester. Notifying her of his fathers disappearance, will she join the brothers on the hunt to find their father? And will she resolve her relationship with her own?

=====================================

Season One (Complete!)

Prologue - Enter Y/N L/N

Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot

Season 1, Episode 2 - Wendigo

Season 1, Episode 3 - Dead in Water

Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler

Season 1, Episode 5 - Bloody Mary

Season 1, Episode 6 - Skin

Season 1, Episode 7 - Hook Man

Season 1, Episode 8 - Bugs

Season 1, Episode 9 - Home

Season 1, Episode 10 - Asylum

Season 1, Episode 11 - Scarecrow

Season 1, Episode 12 - Faith

Season 1, Episode 13 - Route 666

Season 1, Episode 14 - Nightmare

Season 1, Episode 15 - The Benders

Season 1, Episode 16 - Shadow

Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House

Season 1, Episode 18 - Something Wicked

Season 1, Episode 19 - Provenance

Season 1, Episode 20 - Dead Man’s Blood

Season 1, Episode 21 - Salvation

Season 1, Episode 22 - Devil’s Trap

Season 1 - Gag Reel

Season Two (Ongoing)

Season 2, Episode 1 - In My Time Of Dying

Season 2, Episode 2 - Everybody Love A Clown (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 3 - Bloodlust (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 4 - Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 5 - Simon Said (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 6 - No Exit (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 7 - The Usual Suspects (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 8 - Crossroad Blues (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 9 - Croatoan (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 10 - Hunted (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 11 - Playthings (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 12 - Nightshifter (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 13 - Houses of the Holy (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 14 - Born Under A Bad Sign (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 15 - Tall Tales (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 16 - Roadkill (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 17 - Heart (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 18 - Hollywood Babylon (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 19 - Folsom Prison Blues (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 20 - What Is and What Should Never Be (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 21 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 1 (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 22 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2 (coming soon)

Season 2 Gag Reel (coming soon)

_____________________

Also available on:

📖; ao3

📖; wattpad

_____________________

Authors Note: I finally learnt how to do a Masterlist! Hallelujah now life will be easier for you guys. Hope you check out my book and enjoy🫶I’ll update the list after each chapter release

Xoxo

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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

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Phantom Traveler | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, namecalling, typical Dean and reader

Word Count: 8289

A/N: Hi guys. I've been overwhelmed with love these past few weeks. Just wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. You guys are fucking awesome; I'm so grateful. I hope y'all enjoy this week's episode! Asks/requests/taglists are open!!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You were sound asleep, curled up into yourself when a knock on the door brought you out of your slumber.

“(Y/N)?”

‘Sam.’

“I got coffee, thought you could use some,” he called through the door.

You pushed yourself up out of the bed as you yawned, and walked over to the door of your motel room to open it for Sam.

“Dude, you realize it’s six in the morning, right?” You scratched your head as you let Sam into the room.

“You sound like my brother.”

You playfully glared at him. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“Here.” He handed you a coffee and a bag of what you assumed was a pastry.

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting on your bed with your stuff in hand.

Sam sat on the chair across from you. “Still haven’t warmed up to Dean, huh?”

“Well, he hasn’t exactly warmed up to me,” you reminded him, thinking of the fight you got into yesterday over his reckless driving.

“Guess that’s true,” he conceded. “It’s weird, though, you guys are so much more alike than you let on.”

“Tell that to him. He started it.” You took a big bite of your pastry.

“Seriously?” Sam laughed, “ ‘He started it’?”

You shrugged, smirking.

He seemed to remember his original intention behind disturbing your slumber. “Hey, he found a case, though.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s up?” You licked the pastry cream off your thumb.

“We don’t know. The guy on the phone didn’t say.” Sam raised his coffee cup to his lips.

“Guy on the phone?” You took a sip of your coffee as you let Sam answer.

“Yeah. Some guy my dad and Dean worked a case for a while back’s got another one for us. He called Dean.”

“Ah—” you nodded, “—gotcha. So, where’s he live?”

“Pennsylvania,” Sam responded.

“Okay, not too far,” you noted. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

***

“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” a short older man named Jerry told you and the boys. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.”

You were walking beside Sam as you followed behind the man who was having you do this job. You were being led through a warehouse past planes as well as their parts and people hard at work.

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked the older man.

Someone walking in front of your group was eavesdropping on you. “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.”

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking,” Jerry stated authoritatively to the man. He turned his attention back to the conversation. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.” He addressed Dean. “Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?” He’d turned to Sam.

“Yeah, I was. I'm— taking some time off,” Sam explained.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

“He did?” Knowing what you knew about Sam’s relationship with his dad, you found this surprising, too.

“Yeah, you bet he did,” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean lied.

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam and— what’s your name again?” he asked you.

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N). Even trade, huh?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed.

“Say, (Y/N), how’d you get wrapped up with these two?” Jerry asked.

“Oh, uh—” you began, searching for an abridged version of the truth, “—I met them on a hunt in California. They decided to drag me along with them.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. The guys are gonna need backup with this one,” Jerry said.

“Why?”

He did not give a direct answer to your question. “I got something I want you guys to hear.”

He led you to his office where you and Sam took the two chairs and Dean stood behind his brother.

”I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley,” Jerry stated, putting a CD into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

A frantic voice immediately rang out from the speaker as soon as the recording started. “Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—” the recording cut out with a static sound, “—immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message—” and cut out again, “—May be experiencing some mechanical failure—” and then cut out one last time. The man’s voice was completely drowned out by static, whooshing, and growling sounds.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry continued. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”

“You don't think it was?” Sam questioned him.

“No, I don't.”

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,” Sam listed.

“Alright,” the man replied.

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean inquired.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage… guys— and gal— the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” Jerry shook his head.

You frowned.

“No problem,” Dean declared.

You gave him a questioning look to which he shrugged off.

***

“How fucking long does it take to make a fake ID?” you groaned, falling back across the backseat of the Impala. You and Sam had found a way to isolate the EVP on Sam’s computer, having gotten a copy of the tape from Jerry.

“I don’t know,” Sam responded. “But I’m gonna lose it if it’s much longer.”

“Same here.” At that moment, Dean walked out of the Copy Jack the Impala was sitting in front of as a pretty woman walked into the store. They greeted each other before Dean walked over to you and his brother.

“Dude,” you started, “You’ve been in there forever.”

“Wah-wah,” he whined, mocking you. “You can’t rush perfection.” He held up three IDs.

“Homeland Security?” Sam questioned as he took one of the IDs. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times,” Dean pointed out as he got into the car.

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asked his brother as he flicked your ID back at you. It hit you square in the side of the head.

“Dude, really?” you hissed, aggravation clear in your tone.

“Shh,” the older Winchester hushed you as he waited for Sam to answer.

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,” Sam explained.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.”

The isolated voice of what you were dealing with came through the recording scratchy and backed by demonic growling sounds. “No survivors!”

“ ’No survivors’?” Dean asked. “What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

You shrugged.

Dean let out a sigh. “So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?”

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,” Sam began.

Dean hummed in affirmation. “Or remember flight 401?”

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

“I don’t know, guys,” you stated skeptically. “Ghost just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, thanks for your optimism, sunshine,” Dean quipped.

“It’s not about optimism, you asshole, it’s about being right and dealing with whatever we’re up against properly,” you pushed back.

“Know-it-all,” the older Winchester replied.

“Fuck off, Winchester.”

He let out a breath and turned his attention back to the case.“Alright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,” you said.

“I wasn’t talking to you, but why him?”

You glared at Dean. “Because if anybody saw something weird, he did. I talked to his mom while you were spending forever in the store. She said some pretty weird shit and told me where to find him. He was so screwed up, he checked himself into the hospital.”

***

You and the Winchesters walked beside Max Jaffey, who hobbled on a cane, through the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital’s garden.

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security,” Max told your trio.

“Right. Some new information has come up,” Dean lied. “So if you could just answer a couple questions...”

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything… unusual?” Sam questioned.

Max looked confused. “Like what?”

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,” Dean offered.

“No, nothing.”

Seeing as no one was getting anywhere with this investigation, you tried your hand at it. “Mr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in here, right?”

He nodded at you.

“Why?”

“Uh, I was a little stressed,” he said sarcastically. “I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded. “And that’s what scared you? That’s what screwed you up so badly?”

You could tell you were close to the answers you were after as he swallowed uncomfortably. “I— I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“I know, but I also know you saw something up there,” you continued. “We need to know what.”

“No.” Max shook his head. “No, I was… delusional. Seeing things.”

“He was seeing things,” Dean half-mocked him.

You shot a warning glance at Dean, hoping to get him to shut up.

“It's okay,” you coaxed. “Just tell us what you thought you saw, please.”

“There was… this—man. And, uh, he had these… eyes—these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him...” he trailed off, stopping as he recounted the events.

“What?” Dean asked.

“He opened the emergency exit,” Max explained. “But that's— that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, clearly confused.

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asked.

Max quirked his head at the younger Winchester. “What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

***

“I think we can rule out phantom traveler,” you noted as you got out of the car in front of the Phelps’s house. You were going to visit the wife of George Phelps, the man who opened the emergency exit.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“You heard Jaffey. He said the dude had black eyes. Opened a fucking emergency exit on his own. ‘Black eyes’ points me to demon.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Demons?”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Sam shrugged. “He could be a demon. He might be some kind of a creature, too, in human form.”

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean questioned as he gestured toward the house that was representative of the essence of suburban houses. From its beautiful garden to the cobblestone steps to the beige paint coating the outside of the two-story building.

Sam shrugged and began leading your trio up the steps of the house.

Once inside, you three sat across from Mrs. Phelps on the couch while she sat in an armchair.

Sam picked a picture of Mrs. Phelps and an older man up off of the side table. “This is your late husband?” he asked.

“Yes, that was my George.”

“And you said he was a dentist?” Dean questioned.

She hummed in affirmation. “He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...”

Sam asked another question. “How long were you married?”

“Thirteen years.”

You could tell Sam was contemplating how to ask his next question. “In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him; anything out of the ordinary?”

She paused for a moment. “Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.”

You nodded, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s all we have for you, Mrs. Phelps. Thank you for your time.”

She showed all of you out, and you piped up as you walked down the stairs outside of the house.

“Demon’s sounding more and more correct all the time,” you smiled, trying to joke around.

“Jesus, you’re annoying,” Dean groaned.

“And you’re a misogynistic dick that can’t handle women with brains,” you responded.

“What, are we gonna duke this out now?” Dean stopped by the door of the car, facing you.

You stood by the backseat’s door. “You started it,” you taunted childishly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared back at him.

“Really?” he leered. “You’re gonna pull that card? Mature.”

“You act like you’re any better.”

“Guys—” Sam tried to cut in, but Dean continued to fight with you.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” you drawled.

“Guys! You can fight later. Wrong place, wrong time to sort this out,” Sam chastised you and Dean like you were children.

You got in the car and slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t hurt my baby ‘cause you’re pissed,” Dean scolded you as he started to pull the car away.

“Just drive, asshole,” you grumbled in frustration as you slumped down in your seat. The rest of the car ride to the local outlet mall was silent.

***

You had never felt more confident. Despite the fact that you could have worn the one dress you already had to pose as homeland security, you decided to treat yourself to a new outfit to distract from your aggravation with Dean.

The boys had gone to a suit shop called “Mort’s for Style,” and you went into a dress shop called “Betsy’s.” It was a cute little shop with a lot of great dress and pantsuit options.

You had picked out a navy blue pantsuit. You wore a white button-up underneath the blazer with the top two buttons undone to accentuate your breasts. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the high-waisted, straight-legged pants you wore matched the black color of your blazer. With the white button-up tucked into your pants and the small amount of makeup you threw on to draw attention to your eyes and lips, you felt good.

Once you had paid for your clothing, you walked out of the shop and back to the Impala. Surprisingly, the boys were not there waiting for you.

You leaned your back against the car, picking out the grit from under your nails.

You looked up when you heard Dean’s voice. “Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.”

Both of the boys were dressed in sharp, black suits. You almost lost your breath at the sight of Dean, but fought yourself to keep your composure. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing you found him attractive.

“No, you don't,” Sam told him. “You look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance.”

You laughed at the younger brother’s jeer. “What took you girls so long?” you asked once you got in the Impala. “I thought you two would’ve beat me out the store by a long shot.”

“Dean wouldn’t leave the dressing room,” Sam said dryly.

“Seriously?” you droned.

You and Sam both looked to Dean, who did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke, he complained, “I hate this thing.”

“Hey,” Sam stared. “You want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to drive along.

You steeled your nerves as your black, pointed-toe pumps clicked across the warehouse floor. Your trio was headed to the security guard that would allow you in to see the wreckage.

You held the clipboard you had stowed in your bag close to your chest, acting as some sort of a recorder for the boys. The three of you flashed your badges at the security guard, who nodded and allowed you into the hangar where the wreckage was being kept.

There was a large map of what the plane should look like painted onto the floor, and the parts that corresponded to the different portions of the map were laid in their proper spots. There were wires hung on fences and broken interior parts of the plane laid on tables. The most heartbreaking things for you to look at were the torn passengers’ seats because most of the people who had been in them were now dead.

You looked over at Dean, who had earbuds in and was moving a small box over the tops of the wreckage.

“What’s that?” you asked him.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

You got closer to him, noticing what the object appeared to be. “I know what an EMF meter is; I’m not stupid. But why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”

“ 'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you quipped.

His grin disappeared. “Bitch.”

“Dick.”

You once again fought the pain in your chest when he called you a bitch. In all honesty, you thought his homemade EMF meter was cute. However, you were too far gone in your war with him to surrender now.

Dean ran the Walkman over a piece of the wreckage with black spores and yellow dust on it. You could hear the faint sound of a spike on the meter through Dean’s headphones.

“Check out the emergency door handle,” Dean called to Sam.

Sam came over to where you and Dean stood as the older brother scratched at the dust to get some on his hand.

“What is this stuff?” Dean asked.

One way to find out.” You saw the younger of the two brothers start scraping some of the dust into a small bag.

“We need to go,” you told the boys. You weren’t sure what told you that, but you just suddenly felt unsettled. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention, and every muscle in your body tensed. You started off toward the exit in the back of the warehouse.

“Wait, (Y/N), what if we’re missin’ something?” Dean questioned, clearly aggravated you were ready to ditch already.

“Too bad, we gotta go.” You kept walking toward the exit, making it out of the door and around the backside of the building.

At that moment, an alarm started blaring through the area surrounding the warehouse.

You turned around to look at the boys as you gloated, “I’m not gonna say, ‘I told you so’!“ Not bothering to rip your shoes off of your feet, you took off running to the gated exit.

Sam and Dean were quick to follow you and soon passed you up. The older brother took off his suit jacket and threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. You did the same with your blazer. After quickly taking off your pumps to avoid hurting yourself when you jumped from the top of the gate, you threw yourself over the fence. The other two did the same.

Sam grabbed your blazer that you were too small to reach from the top of the fence as Dean found it within himself to remark, “Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”

You ran after the two boys, heels and blazer in hand as the jagged rocks in the cement cut into your feet. As soon as you shut the door to the car, Dean slammed on the gas pedal.

He tore out of the warehouse’s parking lot, speeding down the road to head toward Jerry’s workplace.

"(Y/N),” Sam started, turning in his seat to face you with a curious expression on his face, “how did you know that?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. My intuition’s just always been pretty sharp.” You were being honest; there had been a few times on hunts previously when you’d known it was time to get the hell out of dodge.

“Hm.” You could tell Dean still didn’t trust you.

“Dude, I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s the truth,” you countered. “I’ve been helping you guys with your dad for almost two months now, and you still don’t trust me. I don’t know what more to do for you.”

“Maybe because I don’t know you,” he responded, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Maybe if you tried to know me, you’d find it a little easier to trust me,” you answered.

“Not interested,” came Dean’s grumbled response.

You tried your best to ignore the pang that went through your chest once more. “Of course not.”

***

You refused to speak to or even look at Dean; your frustration with the fact that he had no desire to know you and his general existence boiling to the surface. You could feel his stare burning into the side of your head as you focused on Jerry, who sat in front of you. He was looking through a microscope on his desk at the yellow dust Sam had collected.

“Huh,” Jerry remarked. “This stuff is covered in sulfur.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” Jerry offered, getting up from behind the desk so Sam could take his place.

Banging sounds along with a string of curse words caught your ear as Jerry sighed.

“If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire,” he dryly stated, walking out of the office.

You got up from the chair you were sitting in next to Dean. “See?” you started excitedly, gesturing toward the sulfur, “Demons.”

“That would explain how one guy had the strength to open up the emergency exit,” Sam added.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean put his hands on his hips as he stood. “You ever heard of something like this before?”

Sam looked over at his brother, who responded, “Never.”

“Well, I have,” you said simply.

They both looked to you to continue.

“In NYC a couple years back. Some cabbies had gotten possessed and were takin’ girls left and right.”

“Those were demons?” Sam asked, standing up from behind Jerry’s desk. “That was a huge deal on the news while I was at Stanford. Police thought it was a serial killer. You took ‘em on all by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you chuckled. “I can handle a few demons. But, yeah, that was me. That was probably the toughest case I’ve ever been on. Finding where those demons had taken those girls after they drugged them in the cabs... where they were raped and murdered...” You shook your head, your cheery expression gone.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sam told you gently.

Your eyes were glued to the floor, hands on your hips with not a bit of life in your voice as you muttered, “All in a day’s work.”

Sam had asked you to tell him and Dean everything you knew about demons once you got back to the Winchesters’ motel room. Sam sat at the table close to the window while Dean sat on the bed closest to his brother. You stood in front of the two as you spoke.

“Demons exist in every religion in every world culture. With the ones that I was dealing with up in New York, they were most similar to Incubi from early Christian religion. Incubi raped sleeping girls. These demons drugged the girls to put them to sleep, then they raped them, and then they murdered them. What I’m thinking for these demons is that they’re most similar to certain Japanese demons. I had to look into these when I was trying to figure out how to kill the NYC demons. The Japanese believe demons cause certain disasters, whether it be natural or man-made. Some cause earthquakes, others cause disease—”

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean deadpanned, cutting you off.

You ignored him. “Demons are having to find new ways to ratchet up the body count. Like with me in New York, Incubi can’t go about their old methods anymore. This demon probably evolved with the times like the Incubi did, and so it figured plane crashes were the best way to get its job done.”

Dean snorted, getting up from. the bed and turning away from you and his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

He turned around, scratching the back of his neck. “I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” the younger Winchester admitted.

Dean’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello?... Oh, hey, Jerry… Wha— Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?... Where'd this happen?... I'll try to ignore the irony in that… Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.”

He hung up the phone.

“Another crash?” Sam questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

“Where?”

“Nazareth.”

‘Ah, there’s the irony.’

***

After leaving the horrendous scene of Chuck’s plane crash, you and the boys went back to Jerry’s office. Once again, Jerry confirmed that the dust you had taken from the steering wheel of Chuck’s plane was, in fact, sulfur.

“Well, that's great,” Dean sassed. “Alright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

“If that's the case, that would be the good news,” you chimed in. You looked up to the sky, addressing the pilot. “No offense, Chuck.”

“What's the bad news?” Jerry asked you.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight, just like 2485,” you informed the older man.

“Forty minutes?” Chuck inquired. “What does that mean?”

“It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death,” Dean said.

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,” Sam explained.

"Any survivors?” the older Winchester questioned his brother.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.” Sam turned to you after thinking for a moment. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”

“ ‘No survivors,’ “ you realized. “It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

Dean drove the Impala down an empty highway.

Sam was on the phone with one of the survivors from the plane crash, the conversation almost over. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. “All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

“That leaves the flight attendant, Amanda Walker,” you commented.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight P.M. It's her first night back on the job,” Sam told you and his brother.

“That sounds like just our luck,” Dean grumbled.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel,” Sam said worriedly.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass,” Dean tried.

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.”

“God, we're never gonna make it,” you shook your head, leaning back in the seat as you scrubbed a hand through your hair.

“We'll make it,” the older brother countered, slamming his foot on the gas.

Somehow, someway, Dean had managed to get to the airport at ten minutes to seven.

You jumped up out of the car, taking your gun out of your pants and stashing it under the backseat.

“What are you doing?”

You still did not feel like talking to Dean but answered him shortly nonetheless. “We’re going into an airport.”

Dean finally caught onto what you meant and took all of his weapons off of him, too. “I feel naked.”

You fought the smile threatening to creep up your face.

You rushed into the airport just behind the boys, squeezing your way through the crowd of people to get to the departure board.

“Right there,” Sam pointed out. “They're boarding in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. We still have some cards to play,” Dean paused, thinking for a moment. “We need to find a phone.”

He found a courtesy phonw on the wall, picking it up. “Hi. Gate thirteen… I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um… flight 4-2-4.”

He waited impatiently for Amanda to pick up the phone. When she finally did, he began speaking again.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here… Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—” His face fell, his eyes widening a touch. “You what?... Uh, well… there must be some mistake—”

Sam went around his brother to try to get a closer listen.

After a longer pause, Dean let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “...Guilty as charged… He's really sorry… Yeah, but… he really needs to see you tonight, so—... Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic… Oh, yeah… No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!” Dean slammed the phone back onto the receiver. “Damn it! So close.”

"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane,” you stated firmly.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” For the first time since you met him, Dean looked scared.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash,” Sam argued.

“I know.” He looked conflicted.

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and (Y/N) get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean looked at Sam blankly, evidently a little anxious.

“Are you okay?” the younger Winchester asked.

Dean hesitated. “No, not really.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh...”

“Flying?” you cut in.

“It's never really been an issue until now,” he told you.

“You're joking, right?” Sam huffed.

“Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?” he spat.

For the first time since you met him, you didn’t feel like mocking him about his fear of planes.

“Okay, then (Y/N) and I’ll go,” Sam proposed.

Dean shook his head. “What?”

“We’ll handle this one.”

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.”

“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with (Y/N). I'm not seeing a third option, here.”

Dean scratched his head. “Come on! Really? Man...”

Dean walked much faster than you did toward the car to get supplies, clearly trying to leave you in his dust.

“Would you slow down a bit, please?” you asked.

“Why should I?”

“Because even if you get to the car before me, you’re not gonna have a fucking clue what to use to deal with a demon,” you reminded him, your words a bit more venomous than need-be.

He stopped, turning to face you. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” you told him. You truly weren’t.

“Definitely sounds like you are.”

You walked past him to the trunk of the Impala. “I wasn’t, I’m simply pointing out the fact that I’m the one who knows how to deal with demons, and you don’t.”

“There you go again. Acting like you know so much better than I do.” His attitude was truly exhausting.

Your voice rose as you defended yourself. “Because I do! In this case, at least!”

“But it’s not just this one time that you acted like you’re better than me,” he argued. “Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with your smart ass?”

“Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with yours?” you threw back. You sighed, putting aside your anger for now. “Look, we don’t have time to talk about this.” You shoved holy water, a rosary, and the EMF Walkman into Dean’s hands. “Now, let’s go.”

You shoved past Dean and headed back to the airport.

***

You sat between Sam and Dean, completely at ease. Dean, however, was losing his mind.

"Just try to relax,” Sam whispered from the window seat

Dean’s voice came back harder and slightly louder. “Just try to shut up.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scolded playfully.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Dean clapped back using the same tone with you that he had with Sam. He took in a sharp breath when the plane began moving a second later.

You gathered your courage and grabbed his hand. He jerked away from you and looked at you in surprise. When the plane took off, though, his hand rejoined yours, squeezing tightly. You giggled to yourself.

“I’m so glad this is funny to you,” Dean hissed.

“It’s not,” you answered simply.

“Then why are you laughing?” His grip tightened once again.

“It’s just,” you considered your next words carefully. “It’s kind of cute, that’s all.”

Dean was caught off-guard by your response. He eyed you quizzically, unsure of what to say. You just shrugged, settling the back of your head against your seat with your hand still in Dean’s. It was much larger than yours, and you fought the urge to run your fingers along the calloused ridges.

Moments passed in a bit of an uncomfortable silence before Dean spoke again, not a trace of bite in his tone. “Why are you doing this?”

You rolled your head toward him. “Everybody’s scared of something,” you quietly replied. “It helps me to know I’m helping you. Even if you do hate my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts.” He spoke so softly you almost couldn’t hear him.

“Pfft, could’ve fooled me,” you answered.

“You just…” he started, “...get on my nerves. ‘S all.”

You giggled.

A few minutes later when the plane had fully gotten up in the air, you heard the familiar sound of a song you had heard many times before in the Impala coming from the man next to you.

“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked Dean monotonously.

“Calms me down,” the older brother replied.

“ ‘Some Kind of Monster’? Really?“ You raised a brow at him.

Dean did not respond to you.

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused,” the younger Winchester reminded his brother.

“Yup,” you chimed in. “We only have thirty-two minutes to track the bitch down and full-on exorcise it.”

“Yeah, on a crowded plane,” Dean commented. “That's gonna be easy.”

“Just take it one step at a time, alright?” Sam said calmly. “Now, who is it possessing?”

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress,” Dean stated.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up,” Sam told Dean, who hummed in response.

Dean sat up stiffly, his body still tense as he turned to the blonde flight attendant walking past.

“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?” he asked her.

“No, I'm not,” she answered with a smile.

"Oh, my mistake.”

The flight attendant hummed in agreement.

He peered into the back of the plane, finding the other blonde flight attendant. “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she's already possessed, genius?” Sam asked.

“There's ways to test that,” Dean responded, pulling the holy water out of his jacket. “I brought holy water.”

“Correction, I brought holy water—” you leaned forward, gently taking the bottle, “—And that’s for when we try to exorcise the demon. She’ll flinch at the name of god if she’s possessed.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean replied, getting up from his chair. You could tell he had not. You already missed the feeling of his hand in yours.

He turned to go, but you stopped him.

“Dean!” you whispered.

“What?” The annoyance in Dean’s voice was back.

“Say it in Latin.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what is it?” you smirked, quirking a brow.

“ ‘Christo!’ I’m not an idiot!” he hissed back. Dean turned away from you and headed to the back of the plane.

You slumped down in your seat, closing your eyes as the copilot began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking...” you tuned out the rest of his message.

A few minutes went by before the older brother returned.

“Alright, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,” he sighed as he flopped back into his seat.

“You said ‘Christo’?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.”

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere,” Sam explained.

The plane shook, causing Dean to tense up. He grabbed your hand once more. “Come on!” he whined. “That can't be normal!”

“Hey, hey, it's just turbulence,” you coaxed.

“Sweetheart, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm fucking four.” He went to drop your hand, but you tightened your grip.

“Okay,” you started, changing tactics. Your tone became harsh. “You need to calm down.”

“Well, I'm sorry, I can't,” Dean sassed.

“You didn’t want to be treated like you’re four, so stop acting like it,” you commanded. “Be a man, Winchester. If you’re a basketcase, you’re wide open to possession. Get your shit together. Right now.”

Dean took a deep breath.

You smiled. “Great. Onto the Rituale Romanum.”

“The what?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

“The exorcism ritual,” you elaborated. “It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful?” Dean questioned, his voice strained and eyes wide.

“Yup.”

“How?” He was starting to get panicky again.

“It’d just be able to wreak havoc on its own without a vessel,” you informed.

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?”

“ 'Cause the second part of that sends the bitch back to hell once and for all.”

“First things first, we got to find it.”

“There ya go,” you chuckled.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, getting up from his chair with the EMF Walkman.

You and Sam let him walk down the aisle by himself for a few minutes before the two of you got up to go talk to him.

You tapped his shoulder.

“Ah!” Dean jumped back, wheeling around to face you. “Don’t do that!”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No, nothing. How much time we got?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Sam told you and his brother. “Maybe we missed somebody.”

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane,” Dean shrugged.

“No way. Dean, it’s gonna be here,” you protested. Just as you spoke, the EMF meter spiked.

You looked up to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it?”

You stared at the copilot. “Christo.”

The man’s head slowly turned toward you and the boys, his eyes black.

You wheeled around to face Sam. “We gotta talk to Amanda.”

“She's not gonna believe this,” Sam contested.

“You’re probably right, but we only got twelve minutes,” you reminded the younger brother. You walked ahead of the boys into the concessions area where Amanda busied herself.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope,” she smiled politely, clearly caught off-guard by your presence.

“Actually—” Dean began, “—that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.”

Sam closed the curtains behind you as Amanda answered Dean. “Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now,” Dean rushed out.

She looked confused but kept her smile painted on her face.

“Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485,” Sam continued for Dean.

Her grin disappeared. “Who are you guys?”

Sam ignored her question. “Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.”

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,” the older brother told her.

“I'm sorry—” she started, attempting to move past you, “I— I'm very busy. I have to go back—”

“Chuck Lambert’s dead, Amanda,” you cut in, effectively stopping her from leaving. “The pilot from 2485.”

“Wait. What?” She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “Chuck is dead?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He died in a plane crash. That’s the second plane crash in two months. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?”

She shook her head in complete disbelief.

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485,” Sam added. “Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.”

Dean made a last attempt to drive the point home. “Amanda, you have to believe us.”

The blonde looked to the ground. “On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes.”

“Black eyes?” you asked.

She nodded.

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Sam clarified.

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”

Dean answered before you got the chance to. “Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.”

Amanda looked between the three of you, confused. “Why? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?”

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—” You could practically see her mind running a mile a minute.

Even Sam was getting impatient. “Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you—”

“Babe, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't go get him right now,” you remarked.

She looked at you and nodded, turning to leave for the cockpit.

As soon as Amanda made it out of the curtains, you fished the holy water out of your hoodie’s pocket, moving to press your back against the wall next to the closed blue curtains.

A few moments later, you heard the copilot say to Amanda, “Yeah, what's the problem?” Just outside the curtains. As soon as the demon ducked into the small room, Dean punched him in the face. He then shoved the demon to the ground and slapped duct tape over his mouth.

“Wait,” Amanda protested as you got down on the ground beside Dean, “What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.”

“We are gonna talk to him,” Dean replied simply as you splashed the copilot with holy water.

The demon groaned under the duct tape, his skin sizzling and burning holes through his shirt.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” Amanda cried.

“Look,” Sam started calmly, “We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.”

Amanda’s breath quickened. “Well, I don't underst— I don't know—”

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?”

She gave herself a pep talk before heading outside of the curtains.

“Hurry up, Sam,” Dean groaned. “I don't know how much longer I can hold him.”

The demon went to kick the older Winchester in the back, but you dove to grab his legs.

Sam began reciting the Latin ritual written in his father’s journal. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—”

The demon kneed you in the forehead, causing you to fall back and got a few good swings at the boys in as well. You clambered on top of the copilot, sitting on his stomach with his arms pinned by his sides under your legs.

Sam continued with the ritual before the demon threw you off of him. He ripped the tape off of his mouth and turned to Sam. “I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

You attempted to recover from getting slammed into the wall while Dean focused on attacking the demon.

Sam sat there in shock, so you grabbed the journal and tried to finish the ritual.

The demon hit Dean again, effectively getting the young man off of him and knocking Dean into you. The book fell from your hand, and the demon kicked it out into the passenger’s cabin.

A cloud of black smoke flew out from the copilot’s body and into a vent while Sam went out into the aisle to find the journal.

Suddenly, the plane shook violently and took a nosedive. The lights in the plane flickered and you and Dean were thrown to the back wall of the concession’s area.

You and Dean screamed as the plane went down. Dean held onto the emergency exit door for dear life as you pressed yourself into the corner opposite from the older Winchester.

Your yelps were cut off when the plane leveled out following a surge of electricity coursing through the aircraft. You assumed Sam was able to finish the ritual and the pilot was able to regain control of the plane.

You shakily stood up from the ground and dusted yourself off, tugging on the sleeves of your large hoodie.

You stepped out into the passenger’s cabin, heading to Sam as people began asking their neighbors if they were okay.

You wrapped Sam in a short, tight hug as you thanked him for keeping his head level enough to finish the ritual and trying to comfort him after what the demon had said. When you had made your way back to your seats, a slight rumble went through the aircraft. Dean grabbed your hand once again, and kept it there for the rest of the flight. A small smile tugged at your lips.

After landing back at your original airport, you stood beside Sam and Dean as you watched the swarms of EMTs, FBI agents, and FAA agents go from person to person. They questioned or looked over each one, and your focus bounced between them.

You found Amanda in the crowd talking to an FBI agent, and she turned to the side to mouth “thank you” to you and the Winchesters.

“Let's get out of here,” Dean said firmly.

You began to head to the exit when Dean asked Sam, “You okay?”

You turned back to Sam, who reminded you and his brother, “Dean, it knew about Jessica.”

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was.” The older brother attempted to brush Sam’s concerns off.

“Yeah.” The brunet didn’t sound convinced.

“Come on.”

***

The next day, you and the Winchesters visited Jerry at his workplace to give him the final mission report. Jerry showed you and the boys out and escorted you to the Impala parked outside of the warehouse.

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed,” he acknowledged. He shook your hand before turning to the boys. “Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

Sam gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile. “We'll see you around, Jerry.”

You turned to the car, as did Dean before he turned back to the older man.

“You know, Jerry—" he began.

“Yeah.”

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway?” the young man continued. “I've only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me,” Jerry explained simply.

“What?” Sam exclaimed in shock.

“When did you talk to him?” Dean questioned.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.” He took a pause. “Thanks again, guys— and gal,” he grinned.

“Bye, Jerry!” you called after him as he headed off.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service,” Sam told his brother.

Dean dials what you assumed was his father’s number. However, instead of the out-of-service message Sam had described, a voicemail began to play.

The two boys leaned into the phone so they could hear it better.

You leaned over Sam’s shoulder, the voice hard to hear, but you were still able to make out the words. “This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

Sam fumed, shaking his head in frustration as he got in the car. He slammed the door behind him. You looked over to Dean, who did not meet your gaze. He got in the car following his brother. You took one last look at the setting sun as a plane flew over your head.

“I fuckin’ hate flying,” you muttered.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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destieltropecollection · 23 days

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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 2: Idiots in Love

like today | @dcforts Rating: General Word Count: 1,798 Main Tags/Warnings: Domesticity, Light Angst Summary: Dean is not too bothered. Outside the weather is bad, but the place it’s nearby, the job seems easy and they can be home in time for dinner. And if they hit the traffic, well, Cas will be there. They will be fine.

Call on your future self for advice and assistance | @deliciousblizzardshark Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,136 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Canon, Crack Treated Seriously, Magic, Mentions of Bottom Dean Winchester, Mentions of panty kink, mentions of spanking, Mentions of healthy diets, Mention of canon-typical racist porno mag, Mention of Exercise, Drinking, Humor, Getting Together, Time Travel (kind of) Summary: After everything and everyone is magically okay, Dean’s not sure how to deal with Castiel’s surprise love confession. At his wit’s end, he decides to cast a spell to bring his future self (or selves, it turns out) to the Bunker for help. The only problem? Future Dean Winchester(s) are still Dean Winchester... and Dean Winchester is an asshole.

The Dadification of Castiel Novak | @Runraerun Rating: General Word Count: 4,780 Main Tags/Warnings: Idiots in love, Canon compliant, rewriting the Cas love confession scene, first kiss, growing old together, Cas has a hard time reading faces, prosopagnosia, Castiel is Jack Kline’s parent, Castiel and Dean Winchester need to use their words, Castiel and Dean Winchester use their words, We can have nice things, fluff, Sam teasing Dean as is his god given right as his little brother, team free will 2.0. No warnings apply. Summary: When one of Cas’ old I.D.’s gets rejected, Sam and Dean tell him afterwards it’s because his picture is outdated—but this doesn’t make any sense, Castiel explains; Angel vessels don’t age. Dean has to break it to Cas that he doesn’t look like he’s in his 20’s anymore.

You Will Get Wet | @notastupidbird Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,858 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, 5+1 Things, Comedy, Food Service Worker Dean Winchester, Lifeguard Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Idiots in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Porn With Plot, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Theme Parks, Waterpark, Early Aughts, POV Dean Winchester Summary: The summer of 2003 could more accurately be described as the summer from Hell. It was Dean's second year working in concessions at the local water park which meant it was his second year of sunburn, screaming children, wet dollar bills, and having to stare at Cas, the unbearably hot lifeguard stationed directly across from his stand. Or, five times Dean completely failed at trying to talk to his summer crush plus the one time he didn't have to.

as for prophecies, they will pass away (WIP) | @danishdeity Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9,208 Main Tags/Warnings: Slow burn, fix-it, angst and hurt/comfort, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, masturbation, Summary: Dean has worked tirelessly to bring Castiel back from the Empty, but once he finally manages, he just avoids Cas. Dean is determined to give Cas a shot at a happy life, but in order to do that, maybe he has to step back? But having Cas around all the time stirs some thoughts and a lot of panic.

Icarus to Your Certainty (WIP) | @Miaintheimpala Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 9,842 Main Tags/Warnings: POV Castiel (Supernatural), Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair (Supernatural), Tooth-rotting Fluff, Fluff and Angst, No Smut, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester Are Jack Kline's Parents, Castiel and Dean Winchester Are Claire Novak's Parents, Jack Is Not God, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Idiots in Love, Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious Sam Winchester, Angst With A Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Fix-it Summary: Icarus and Castiel both flew to their suns and fell. They both lost their wings and drowned, but there's one difference between these two stories: after being drowned in the depths of The Shadow, Castiel wakes up on a concrete floor.

Phantom Manor On the Hill of Big Thunder Mountain | @melancholictearz Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 18,274 Main Tags/Warnings: AU - Amusement Park, Dean Wears a Cowboy Hat, Cowboy!Dean, Ghost Butler!Castiel, Summer Romance, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Meet-Cute Summary: A PLACE WHERE ERAS AND CENTURIES MERGE INTO A SUMMER STORY. Dean struts around Frontierland in cowboy boots and a hat all day for a living— that’s what his summer job is about, at Big Thunder Mountain attraction in the Far West-themed area of Disneyland Parks. He’s pleased with his current life as it is, until his eyes fall on Castiel, the new haunted butler working at Phantom Manor ride next door. Only a lake separates the two rides but Dean’s inability to stay normal in front of his crush might be the biggest obstacle in the whole painting.

Fanfictionland | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 21,165 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternative universe jumping, canonverse, idiots in love, mutual pining, cowboys, pirates, regency era, medieval, comedy, fanfic writers, TFW 2.0, season 8. Summary: Imagine a destiel writer with the power of one of the tablets. Imagine that destiel shipper writer trying to make Destiel canon, using different ideas. Now, imagine Dean and Castiel jumping from fic to fic, following the script, tropes and AUs we all know while Sam, Kevin and Becky try to stop that mess. Yep, someone had to do it...

The Architect Of Fate | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 23,446 Main Tags/Warnings: Magic, modern setting, fate architect!Castiel, first meetings, character development, winged Castiel, pining, falling in love, top!Castiel/bottom!Dean Winchester, miscommunication Summary: Dean Winchester tries to live his life without any attachments as he looks for the perfect job that brings him money and prestige. But things are not going well for him following the path he decides to make. His luck changes when he meets Naomi, the leader of the Fate Architect Corporation. He only has to fill a form with the life of his dreams, and follow the instructions Castiel will give him, as his assigned Architect. It's time for Dean to get the life he deserves and get the perfect job and the perfect girlfriend. If only Castiel wasn't that beautiful, he could perfectly focus on his targets. Or… How a grumpy and professional Architect of Fate, named Castiel, has to lead with a stubborn and noisy human.

White Lightning (WIP) | @scatterbugged Rating: Explicit Word Count: 24,941 Main Tags/Warnings: top!Dean, Bottom!Cas, Castiel's Grace, Touch-Starved DeanCas, Mutual Pining, Anxiety, Post season 15, AU, Castiel Has Sensitive Wings, Love Confessions, Dean Being Stupid, Dean and his Self-Worth Issues, Anal Sex, Dean and Cas in the Bunker Summary: It started in the kitchen, he thinks, the bursting of this weirdo thing they have between the two of them. Maybe the kitchen's the wrong spot to pinpoint- maybe it was those years ago, stood in an old, dank barn gripping fear and that demon blade. Or, rather, it was before all that, with Dean cutting folks up on the racks and carving out those rictus faces, and Cas still thinking he was worth saving anyway. Wherever it was- Dean thinks now, it really started to break in the kitchen, after everything else is said and done, and when it ends up spilling, he'll be left alone to clean up the mess. - or - Castiel's a little bit human, a little bit angel nowadays ever since he got spit out of the Empty, and both his body and his grace are still adjusting. Dean's more than willing to help his buddy out.

Indeana Jones and the Tear of Pele | @amaranthhiding Rating: Explicit Word Count: 32,679 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Beach Vacation, Adventure, Hawaiian Mythology, Fallen Angel Castiel, Humor, Light Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Mystery, Castiel's True Form, Castiel's Wings, Mutual Pining, Dean in Denial, Dean Makes Up Ridiculous Excuses for Touch, Castiel Uses Sarcasm, Castiel Goes Missing, Castiel and Dean Save Each Other, First Kiss, First Time, Grace-Powered Orgasm, Post-Season 11 Canon Divergence, DCRB 2024 Summary: What starts as a relaxing beach vacation in Hawai’i turns into a journey of self-discovery for Castiel and Dean. To save the world from the Darkness, they both faced what they thought to be their imminent demise and came out the other side very much still alive. So now they have to ponder the really big questions, such as what a bucket list is, what place in the world a fallen angel has, and how Indiana Jones ever managed to keep that hat on his head. The island seems to have a way of making the barrier of touch crumble to dust until they're sliding toward the edge of something new and fragile between them that neither of them dares to put a name to, lest it might disappear. When what really disappears is Castiel, there's very little Dean wouldn't do to get the angel back.

Even The Chicken is Gay | @avonlady42 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 53,730 Main Tags/Warnings: Gay Chicken, Dean and Castiel are clueless, top castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, switching, marriage, mile high club, smut, adoption Summary: Their senior year in high school, Charlie dares Dean and Castiel to play a game of gay chicken which they both reluctantly accept. Their friends wait impatiently to see who will chicken out first, but they’ve all given up on that happening when they show up to their 20-year high school reunion having been married for 14 years and both of them still thinking they are straight and in denial that they are in love with each other. This is based on a prompt from a meme on the Destiel forever Facebook group: In high school I was dared to play “gay chicken,” which is where two straight guys pretend to be gay, and the first one to chicken out loses. The other guy and I are really stubborn, and neither one of us wanted to lose. We’ve been married 14 years and run a bed and breakfast in Vermont with our adopted daughter. If that dude doesn’t chicken out soon, I’m going to start to suspect he’s actually gay.

My Cryo Sleeping Beauty | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Explicit Word Count: 55,356 Main Tags/Warnings: Space AU, Action/Adventure, Torture, Gabriel Is The Narrator, Humor, Misunderstandings, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean, Denial, Hunted, Flirting, Minor Sabriel, Summary: Let me tell you a story about two adorable, yet frustrating, knuckleheads in love. We got Dean Winchester of Venandi, who wakes up on an unknown spaceship with a half-naked man in his arms, and no memory of how this happened. Cuddling him oh-so lovingly, we have, fresh out of cryo sleep, prisoner James Novak, who is equally confused about his whereabouts and to find Dean sharing a bed with him. Now, prisoner Novak is really Castiel, an old acquaintance of Dean’s and his real identity appears to be only known by Dean. That’s when the mercenary Henriksen, doing Empress Amara’s bidding, stumbles upon them and crashes their little (freak out) moment. While dealing with Castiel’s mysterious past and Dean’s personal and urgent quest, they have no choice but to work side by side as they banter away to escape from everyone’s clutches and find out what really happened. I know you might be skeptical. People often ask me, “How in all the stars do you possibly know all of this, Gabe?” The answer is very simple: I’m part of the story! I witnessed first hand their tribulations and lovey-dovey looks. Well, some part of it. As for the rest…Well I’m all about tall tales.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #idiots in love #destiel #fanfic #supernatural

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lemonous-snake · 10 months

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As promised, a new chapter of A Two-Man, One-Angel Operation is up! Presenting the "Bloodlust" rewrite, creatively titled "Bloodlust, Bloodlust" (after the Sam O'Nella dog breeds video). Enjoy!

#supernatural fanfic #sabriel #fanfic #a two man one angel operation #episode rewrite #canon rewrite #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #lemon's fanfics #lemon.txt

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spn-rewrites · 2 years

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01x01 (PART 2)

Season One Episode One: Pilot

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: The Impala drives itself

Word Count: 4k

As the three of you entered Jericho, the dirty sign passing you guys, Sam was calling every morgue and hospital in the area. You weren’t used to riding in the backseat anymore, ever since John let Dean have the Impala and let the two of you go on your own hunts without him. Sam now had your seat, but you were okay with it. It was spacious back here and sometimes, if you focused really hard, you could zone out the music and Dean’s bad singing. “So there’s no one matching dad at any of the hospitals or morgue, so that’s something I guess,” Sam said.

“Not really if this ghost or whatever isn’t leaving bodies to be found,” you put a damper on Sam’s parade, and the two boys looked back at you, “what?” You asked innocently as Dean looked back at the road.

“Check it out,” he pointed to the side of the road where cop cars were lined up and police were scattered around what seemed to be an abandoned car. Dean pulled over and grabbed the box out of the glove compartment that held all the fake ID’s and FBI badges and whatnot, grabbing three fake wallets out, each with a fake badge and ID in it.

You headed over to the cops that were inspecting the car and listened to them as they said the car was spotless, absolutely clean. Then, they mentioned that the victim was dating another cop’s daughter. “You guys had another one like this last month, didn’t you?” Dean asked, not seeming bothered that he interrupted their conversation. The cops stopped talking and looked up at you guys curiously.

“And who are you?” The cops asked, taking the few steps in between the three of you and the car. They were eyeing you all up and down, gauging your dirty outfits that did not scream I am a cop.

“Federal Marshall’s,” Dean held up his fake badge and the cop eyed it.

“You three are a little young to be Federal Marshals aren't you?” The cop asked, his eyes stopped on you and scanning your body. You froze and stepped behind Sam just slightly so that the cop couldn’t look at your body anymore.

“We’re flattered,” Dean smirked and looked closer at the car. “You did have another one just like this, yes?”

“Yeah, about a mile up the road,” the cop said.

“You knew this victim?” You asked, remembering their conversation from earlier that you so rudely interrupted.

“A town like this, everybody knows everybody,” the cop smirked at you but you gave him a smug grin in return.

“Any connection between them? Besides they’re all men?” You asked again, keeping up a professional persona as Dean investigated the car and Sam stood next to you, catching wind of the cop’s creepy behavior towards you.

“Not as far as we can tell,” the cop replied. You nodded at him and walked away, towards Dean and the car. You could hear Sam continue to question the cop.

“What’s the theory?” Sam asked.

“Honestly, we don’t know,” the cops voice seemed to change between talking to you and the boys. Less flirty and more professional. It made you sick. “Serial murders, kidnapping ring, could be anything.”

“That’s exactly the kind of crack police work I’d expect out of you guys,” Dean cracked, you stomped on his foot just hard enough for him to feel it, the cop giving you guys a weird look when Dean groaned.

Sam thanked the police for their time and the three of you walked away from the crash and back towards the car, Dean pinching you on the back of the arm. “What the hell was that for?” You screeched, grabbing the back of your arm where it hurt.

“Did you have to step on my foot like that?!” Dean yelled through his teeth.

“Did you have to talk to the cops like that?” Sam deadpanned, defending you once again to his brother. You smiled, sticking your tongue out a little bit at the older Winchester.

+++

The three of you drove around Jericho, hoping to find someone that could give you more information on the missing kid, Troy. Just outside of downtown, you saw a girl hanging up Troy’s missing persons posters. Dean parked the car and you all got out, walking to the girl. In John’s journals, he wrote Troy had a girlfriend, Amy. You assumed this was her.

“Yeah, I’m Amy,” she said, pinning the poster, not glancing at us at all.

“Troy told us about you, we’re his uncles. I’m Dean, this is Sammy and my wife Y/N,” Dean pointed between the three of us, you smiling at her as she glanced but then she walked away.

“Troy never told me about you guys,” she replied.

“Well, that’s Troy, I guess,” Dean said as we walked with Amy as she continued to put up posters, ignoring us. “We’re not around much, we’re up in Modesto.” Dean said, you decided to grab his hand as part of the facade and he happily took it, sticking his other one in his pocket.

“We’re looking for him, too. Asking around and stuff,” you said, slightly leaning into Dean to face Amy more. “Do you mind if we ask you some questions?” You asked, your motherly voice coming out as it usually does when you’re investigating cases and talking to the victims loved ones.

As you guys were talking, one of Amy’s friends showed up and all five of you squeezed into a diner booth to get Amy’s side of the story. You squeezed in between the two boys, Dean’s hand finding yours over the table, you assumed for the show you guys were putting on.

The story was pretty cookie-cutter, she called him while he was driving and he said he would call back, but never did. It was starting to feel useless until her friend started talking about rumors going around in the town about a local legend.

“This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial like, decades ago. Well, supposedly, she’s still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up, well, they disappear,” she explained. The three of you exchanged looks, bid your goodbyes and immediately started researching.

You sat at the library, Dean on the computer and you and Sam on either side of him. Usually, you were the one doing the research, however Dean insisted he help this time. You think he wanted to try and show off for Sam, showing that he can do this without him which in truth, you two could do it without Sam but you knew that Dean didn’t want to. It wasn’t the same.

The showing off didn’t work too well, seeing as Dean couldn’t find a damn thing and Sam took over, shoving Dean in his rolling chair backward. “You’re such a control freak,” Dean sighed as Sam started typing away. You laughed and pulled Dean’s chair next to yours.

“Maybe it’s not a murder,” you said in between laughs and Sam nodded in agreement, typing in suicide instead of murder in the search engine. 1 result came up. “This is why I do the research,” you gloated to Dean but he just glared at you in response.

“This was in 1981, Constance Welsh, 24 years old jumps off Sylvania Bridge and drowns in the river,” Sam read off the article.

“Did it say why?” Dean asked, you leaned on your elbows to try and read the screen but Dean’s big head was in the way. You pushed back his shoulder a little bit and he looked at you, moving out of the way.

“Yeah, an hour before she died she made a 911 call. Her two little kids are in the bathtub, she leaves them alone for a minute and when she comes back, they aren’t breathing.” You sucked in a breath, tragic stories never get easier for you to hear even after all these years. “‘Our babies were gone and Constance couldn’t bear it’, said husband Joseph Welch.” Sam read the quote from the article, pulling up the picture of the crime scene, the same bridge where Troy’s car was found and where he went missing.

+++

On the bridge, you walked over to the spot where Constance jumped, “you think John would have been here?” You asked Dean, looking over the bridge and out onto the river that was running fast, waves crashing on the rocks.

“Well, he was chasing this case and we’re chasing him. This might take a while,” Dean said, turning and walking down the road.

“Dean, I have to get back by-”

“Monday, I know,” you cut him off and started walking down the road, running your finger along the metal rail of the bridge.

“You’re really serious about this aren’t you? You think you’re going to become some lawyer, marry your girl?” Dean taunted. You looked behind you at the two boys. Dean’s hands were in his pockets, a grin on his face. Sam looked like a child about to be scolded by his dad.

“Maybe,” Sam shrugged and Dean scoffed.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? Does she know the things that you’ve done?” Your eyes narrowed at Dean in disgust but he wasn't looking at you, he was dead set on Sam.

“Who cares, Dean? Let him be happy, he’s helping us and that’s all we asked for,” you snapped, which caused the boys to look over at you. You were already tired of the bickering.

“You can pretend all you want, Sammy but sooner or later you’re going to have to own up to who you really are,” Dean said. He turned around to walk back to the car and then said, “one of us.”

“No, I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life,” Sam yelled. You took a little offence to that, but let it slide off of you because deep down you knew you wish you could cut it off, too, just like Sam did.

“You have a responsibility,” Dean said. Sam was now right behind Dean, grabbing his arm and turning him toward him. You stayed where you were, frozen, watching. You hated it.

“To dad? And his crusade, you know if it weren’t for the pictures, I wouldn’t even know what mom looked like, so what difference does it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom is gone. Fighting these things is never gonna bring anyone back.” Sam looked behind Dean’s shoulder at you but you looked out into the water. You knew that Sam was right but this was the only life you had after your mom passed and Dean vowed to take care of you so you stayed.

You looked up when you heard a bang and saw Dean pinning Sam against a post that held up the bridge, you ran to the boys, putting your hand on Dean’s arm. “Hey, stop!” You yelled as Sam held his breath.

“Don’t talk about them like that,” Dean whispered, slowly letting go of Sam and turning away. You straightened out Sam’s jacket and asked if he was okay, he nodded and wrapped his arm around your neck in a comforting motion.

“Uh, hey guys.” Dean whispered. The two of you turned in his direction and saw a woman standing on the rail of the bridge, dressed in all white, before she jumped off. The three of you ran to where she was standing, looking over into the water but not seeing anything.

“Where did she go?” You asked, trying your best to see in the dark when you heard the engine to the Impala rev and the headlights turn on

“What the-” Dean whispered. You stared at it, wondering who was driving it but knowing that it was no one. Dean didn’t say another word as he slowly grabbed the keys from out of his pocket, having them dangle in his fingers. You screamed as the tires to the Impala squealed and the car came lurching forward.

The three of you took off on feet as fast as possible but you were shorter than the boys and hence, moved slower. You moved as fast as you could and watched where the boys were going but it was hard for you to keep up. You felt an arm wrap around you and you followed its guidance, jumping over the rail of the bridge. The car screeched to a stop as soon as you jumped. Sam’s hand was holding tight onto yours as he grabbed a piece of metal that was hanging off the bridge. You grunted as you grabbed onto the asphalt, one hand gripping it and the other gripping Sam’s.

He nodded at you as he let go of your hand and you brought it up to the road and pulled yourself up, not feeling safe until your butt reached the cool pavement. You helped Sam finish getting up as well and you looked down at the river to see Dean, covered in mud.

“Are you alright?” You yelled down to him as Sam panted, out of breath next to you.

“Super!” Dean yelled back, putting a thumbs up in your direction and you couldn’t help but laugh at him now that you knew he was okay.

After retrieving the older Winchester, you leaned your back up to the Impala as he inspected his baby, looking for any damage the ghost may have done to it. You couldn’t help but chuckle at Dean’s current state, his face and clothes completely covered in mud. “That Constance chick, what a BITCH!” Dean yelled out into the abyss, sitting on the hood of the car.

“Well, she doesn’t want us digging around that’s for sure,” you commented. Sam came around the corner and stood in front of the two of you. Sam laughed and sat down next to Dean on the hood, sniffing the air.

“You smell like a toilet,” Sam said.

Dean slammed his stolen credit card down on the counter of the nearest motel. The clerk looked at the card and mentioned that someone else with the same last name bought a room for the whole month. The three of you made eye contact with each other, all knowing that it was John.

After paying for your own room, you found the room that John paid for. Dean picked the lock, something he was really good at. Upon entering the room, you immediately notice how dirty and messy it was. Food lying around, salt trailed all around, papers pinned to the walls.

You watched as Dean smelled an old burger sitting on the desk, “well he hasn’t been here for a few days at least.” You nodded and started looking at all the papers, all of them are victims.

“Salt, cat eye shells. He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in.” Sam said, playing with the salt trail on the ground.

“All these papers are the victims of Constance, it doesn’t make any sense. All different men, job, age, ethnicities. There has to be a connection, right?” You asked, studying the victims as if something else would come out at you. Sam walked to the other side of the room, Dean following as you looked at them.

“He figured it it,” Sam said as you walked over to them to see what they were looking at.

“You sly dogs,” Dean said. “A woman in white,” Dean repeated from the paper that John wrote on, pinned to the wall.

“So if we’re dealing with a woman in white, he would have found the corpse and burned it, right?” You asked, Dean nodding but Sam disagreed.

“She may have another weakness,” Sam said.

“He would have wanted to make sure,” Dean stated with full confidence. “Where is she buried?” He asked.

“It doesn’t say, but John would have probably went to talk to her husband,” you commented, pointing to the picture of her husband in the same article that you read earlier. Dean nodded as Sam looked around at the other papers on the wall, telling us to find an address.

“I’m going to go get cleaned up,” Dean said, shutting the bathroom door behind him. You sat down on the bed and watched Sam until he looked at you.

“Hey, what I said about your mom earlier, I’m sorry.” Sam said, walking over to you and putting his hand on your shoulder, looking down at you. He didn’t outright say it, but it was insinuated. Even after all these years, no one knew what happened. Not for sure, anyway.

“It’s okay,” you said, a small smile playing on your lips.

“It’s not, I didn’t mean that.” You nodded and Sam sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and you hugged him back, getting lost in his scent. He will never get old to you.

As Dean got out of the shower, Sam’s phone alerted him to a missed call. “I’m hungry, going to grab a bite at the diner down the street. You guys want anything?” Sam shook his head with his phone pressed to his ear. You, on the other hand, asked for a bacon cheeseburger and a side of fries, and a chocolate milkshake.

Dean just laughed at you as you laid back on the bed in the room. Not only a minute after Dean left, Sam’s phone beeped. “It’s Dean?” Sam said, as he answered the phone. You couldn’t really hear what Dean was saying on the other side, but Sam’s face was staring intently. “What about you?” He asked, nodded, and then hung up the phone.

“What the hell happened? Is he okay?” You asked, frantically standing up rrom the bed. Sam grabbed your hand and pulled you to the wall, both of your backs pinned to it. Sam poked his head out the window but the curtain covered up any sign of him.

“The cops are outside, they’re coming in. Let’s go.” Sam pulled you into the bathroom, closing the door softly as you climbed the toilet, steading your feet before Sam came next to you, putting his hands on your waist and hoisting you up, steadying you himself. “Hurry, Y/N.” Sam whispered.

“I am,” you whispered harshly at him as he glanced to the door. You opened the window as far as it could go and squeezed out of it, jumping to the ground. Not a moment later, Sam’s head stuck through the window and you held your hands out in case he needed any help. He didn’t, and he stuck the landing before you two took off into the trees behind the motel until the coast was clear and you could sneak around and get into the Impala.

“What happened to Dean?” You asked, as Sam drove to the Welch’s house.

Sam just shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know. He said the police spotted him so I’m assuming he’s in custody.”

“We have to go get him!” You stopped looking out the window and looked sharply at Sam.

“And what? All three of us get arrested? No, we have to go figure out how to stop this ghost and find my dad, and then we can go get Dean. He can handle himself,” Sam argued. You scoffed and looked off at the road.

“That’s ridiculous, all of the sudden you care about this case and finding your dad? When your brother needs us!” You yelled at Sam, his face softening as he put his hand on your knee.

“That’s not true, okay? The best thing we can do, what Dean would want us to do, is figure this shit out now. We’re close, Y/N.” You sighed, scratching your forehead before agreeing.

The two of you finally made it to the Welch’s house and Sam banged on the door, an older man in a baseball cap answered. “Hey, are you Joseph Welch?” Sam asked.

Sam took out a picture of John and the boys when they were kids and handed it to Joseph, asking if he had seen him. You didn’t even notice Sam had snagged that photo back at the motel. “Yeah, that was him. He came by three or four days ago, saying he was a reporter.” Joseph said as we walked around his front yard.

“Yeah, we’re all working on a story together,” you said, selling again another facade that you guys put up to gain information from people.

“Well, I don’t know what kind of story you guys are working on with the kinds of questions he asked me,” Joseph said, shaking his head. Sam had the picture in his hand and he was fumbling with it.

“About your late wife, Constance?” Sam asked and Joseph nodded.

“He asked me where she was buried,” Joseph told you. Sam asked him to repeat the answer but Joseph furrowed his brows. “I gotta go through this twice?”

“Fact-checking, if you don’t mind,” you smiled at him, using your charm.

“In a plot, behind my old place over on Breckenridge,” he said. You nodded, taking notes in your head to remember.

“Why did you move?” Sam asked.

“I’m not going to live in the house where my children died,” Joseph shook his head and you asked him if he ever married again after Constance died. “No way, she was the love of my life. The prettiest woman I have ever known,” you smiled at him and then looked up at Sam. You couldn’t help but wonder if Jess was the love of Sam’s life, or if you would ever find yours.

“So you guys had a happy marriage?” Sam asked.

Joseph hesitated before answering, “definitely.” Sam nodded and you thanked him for his time, the two of you turning back to the Impala, Sam hesitating to get in the vehicle.

“Hey Mr. Welch, you ever heard of a woman in white? Or sometimes a weeping woman?” Sam asked, you looked at him, your eyebrows furrowing wondering what in the hell he was doing bringing this up to a civilian, but you let him continue on. “It’s a ghost story, well more a phenomenon really. They’re spirits,” Sam left the car and walked closer to Joseph, “they’ve been sighted for hundreds of years in dozens of places, in Hawaii and Mexico. Lately in Arizona and Indiana,” Sam kept walking towards Joseph, but you stayed put watching this unfold, unsure of where Sam was going with this. “All these are different women, you understand, but they all share the same story.” You watched Sam walk closer to Joseph and how Joseph’s shoulders tensed up the closer Sam got.

“Boy, I don’t care much for nonsense,” he said before turning away from him.

“See, when they were alive,” Sam raised his voice and kept going. “Their husbands were unfaithful to them, and these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.” You finally got what Sam was getting at, not noticing more in the hesitation that Joseph made when saying their marriage was happy. This is why we needed Sam, you thought. Joseph stopped walking away and turned to face Sam again. “And when they had finally realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking backroads, waterways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him and he is never seen again.” Sam’s voice was unassuming, but Joseph's face was shaking in either anger or fear, you weren’t sure.

“And you think that this has something to do with Constance?” He asked.

“You tell us,” you said, stepping forward to stand next to Sam. Joseph looked at Sam and then looked at you, glaring before tears formed in his eyes.

“Maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance would never have killed her own children. Now get the hell out of here!” He yelled before staring at us for a few moments and turning to walk away. When he was out of our line of sight, you sighed and looked at Sam.

Tags: @ kaelyn-lobrutto24

#spn #spn rewrite #supernatural #supernatural rewrite #01x01 #pilot #supernatural season one #season one episode one #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam x reader #dean x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader

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