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according-to-the-laura · 2 years

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StackedNatural Day 182: 6x21, 6x22, 9x23, 10x23

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

May 20, 2022

6x21: Let It Bleed

Written by: Sera Gamble

Directed by: John F. Showalter

Original air date: May 20, 2011

Plot Synopsis:

Dean's worst nightmare comes true when a demon kidnaps Ben and Lisa in order to get to him. The brothers are forced to join forces with an unlikely ally to free them.

Features:

H.P. Lovecraft, Crowley kidnapping Ben and Lisa, torturing a bunch of demons to death, Balthazar confronting Cas, Bobby’s monster ex-girlfriend, Lisa getting possessed, Dean taking John’s parenting style, wiping Lisa and Ben’s memories.

My Thoughts:

This is an episode made for the Deangirls and I’m here for it. All I need is for my favourite guy to get absolutely brutally emotionally wrecked for 40 minutes and I’m happy.

I didn’t realize how early it was in the show that all the writers collectively agreed that it was fine to Dean to torture a bunch of demons even though there’s a whole damn episode on how it’ll cause irreparable damage to his psyche and his soul. So that part is no good for me. However, the star-crossed-lovers aspects of them fighting on different sides but Cas still appearing in time to save his life and heal Lisa is extremely delicious. Both of them care about each other so much, but not enough to abandon their own side. That’s the stuff of tragedy.

I would also like to point out a delightful parallel in Cas saying “you’re just a man. I’m an angel,” to Dean in TMWWBK and Ellie telling Bobby “You’re just a man” after they’d been talking about their explicitly romantic relationship.

I love the scene where Dean goes to say goodbye to Ben and Lisa. It’s absolutely gorgeous writing to have Dean ostensibly apologizing about losing control and hitting them in a car accident after he’s just slapped Ben and forced him into a hunter role that he wasn’t prepared for, and after he metaphorically crashed into their lives and brought monsters and demons with him.

Notable Lines:

“Dean, I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call, and I am your friend. Still, despite your lack of faith in me, and now your threats, I just saved you, yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”

“Thank you. I wish this changed anything.” “I know. So do I.”

“I'm Dean. I'm the guy who hit you. I just, I lost control for a minute, and I just wanted to say that I'm sorry.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.1

IMdB Rating: 8.6

6x22: The Man Who Knew Too Much

Written by: Eric Kripke

Directed by: Robert Singer

Original air date: May 20, 2011

Plot Synopsis:

The wall comes down in Sam's head and all hell breaks loose. Dean and Bobby are, for once, at a total loss on how to help him and are forced to stand by and do nothing while Sam breaks. The battle for heaven comes to a head.

Features:

Sam’s amnesia, Cas breaking Sam’s wall, Sam running around through his own memories, confronting the soulless version of yourself, Cas renegotiating the terms of the deal, the part of Sam that remembers Hell, killing Balthazar, demons flipping the Impala, Crowley leaving Cas for Raphael, Cas atomizing Raphael, Sam stabbing Cas in the back,

My Thoughts:

I really like the format of the first part of this episode. It does feel really epic, really interesting, and definitively finale-worthy. I love seeing Sam have to make the conscious decision to reintegrate the parts of himself that he’s scared of. Also, El Sol in the background of the bar where he meets Robin - he’s trapped in a false reality. The first 10 minutes or so really reminded me of Born Under a Bad Sign, when Sam was possessed by Meg and she faked amnesia after a killing spree.

It’s a little wild how attached I was to Balthazar when I first got in to Supernatural, how sad I was when he died, versus how often I remember him as a character these days. I guess that’s the price of a show running for 15 years. Regardless, his death was very great. I love it lighting up the whole building.

In retrospect, I think I really like season 6? Which is not something I would have considered possible when starting this project. Even though I do think it struggles with the narrative compared to seasons 4 and 5, it’s wildly well-maintained compared to seasons 9 and 10, and the coming together of the civil war and the purgatory plotlines is well done.

Robert Singer’s terrible zooms did ruin that last beat of the episode, though.

Notable Lines:

“Now, what's the matter, Raphael? Somebody clip your wings?”

“Listen, I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you... Please. I've lost Lisa, I've lost Ben, and now I've lost Sam. Don't make me lose you too.”

“'m not an angel anymore. I'm your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.1

IMdB Rating: 9.0

9x23: Do You Believe in Miracles?

Written by: Jeremy Carver

Directed by: Thomas J. Wright

Original air date: May 20, 2014

Plot Synopsis:

The influence of the mark on Dean reaches new heights, as Metatron begins to reveal himself to humanity.

Features:

Metatron going viral, Crowley desperately trying to seduce Dean, heaven’s playground, the love of the masses, Gadreel’s suicide, broadcasting your villain monologue, howling at the moon.

My Thoughts:

As an episode I guess this one is relatively fine? The only parts that I really get excited about are Cas draping himself in the flag of Heaven and the very last scene.

Gadreel sacrificing himself to save Cas and Heaven is objectively the perfect way for his character progression to end, but unfortunately the writing of his character and the actor playing him fail to make me care about him so it didn’t have the impact that it wanted to have.

I wish the battle where Dean was killed by Metatron was a bit more epic - maybe it doesn’t hit as hard when I’m also taking notes on my laptop while watching it. At the very least, Dean looks good covered in blood and in pinky-red lighting, so that’s a win.

The last scene is great for Drowley lovers, although the silhouette of him standing in the door with his long coat does initially make it ambiguous whether it’s Cas or Crowley watching over his dead body. I do remember absolutely losing my mind at the black eyes when this episode first aired - it’s a shame they do so little with Demon Dean in season 10, because in retrospect it just doesn’t excite me the way that it should.

Notable Lines:

You never get tired of the rat race? Never get the urge to just...bugger off and howl at the moon? Never ask yourself, ‘is this it? Is this all there is?’”

“To save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?”

“Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 6.2

IMdB Rating: 9.3

10x23: Brother's Keeper

Written by: Jeremy Carver

Directed by: Phil Sgriccia

Original air date: May 20, 2015

Plot Synopsis:

Dean comes to a stunning decision that will alter his life -- as well as Sam's; Rowena and Crowley face off, putting Castiel in the middle.

Features:

The Fan Fiction version of Carry on Wayward Son, less-than-functional alcoholism, wildly unnecessary misogyny, Dean seeing Cas in a motel bathroom mirror, summoning Death, the chain of the Mark of Cain, Oskar the immortal Polish boy, killing Death, rabid Cas, removing the Mark and releasing the Darkness.

My Thoughts:

This is the episode that made me so annoyed I gave up on Supernatural (I thought) forever in 2015!

At the time the thing that annoyed me the most was killing Death, a character that I loved, in service of the same emotional plot they’d used over and over at that point. @meg3point0 and I actually started yelling and swearing at the TV when we watched it when it first aired.

I do like a few scenes quite a lot - particularly the scene where Dean destroys the motel room after seeing Cas and Rudy in the mirror as the completely immoral and unforgivable things he’d done under the influence of the Mark. I thought Crowley’s confrontation with Rowena and monologue about how she was incapable of loving him was quite good, Mark Sheppard is great at that sort of scene.

There are two major pacing issues in this episode, and that’s with Oskar and the darkness. We met Oskar in one previous episode very briefly and with no connection to Rowena, so there’s no inherent emotion in her sacrifice of him for her own freedom. Ruthie acts the scene magnificently, of course, but in terms of the writing his death just doesn’t matter to me. The Darkness has the same problem; its very first mention is in this episode moments before it becomes the new Big Bad. Generally I like Carver, but that’s a pretty big error as showrunner; you’d think he would have learned from Sera Gamble’s mistakes with the leviathans’ introduction. It needed to be alluded to earlier to be a compelling villain - maybe if it had been, I would have watched season 11 long enough to make it to Baby and been hooked back in to the show permanently.

Also, there’s a lot of really unnecessary misogyny that I didn’t care for. I get that they’re trying to show the effect of the Mark on Dean, but it would have been just as effective as showing him with a general contempt for humanity as a whole without calling a dead teenager a whore. Plus so much of what made the Mark interesting is how he convinced himself he was doing the right thing and what made him angry enough for it to take over so often being people he cared about getting hurt. When the scene with the dead girl started and he clenched his fist I thought he was pissed she’d been killed, but instead he was just gross.

And then, after having watched all of season 11 and Amara’s obsession with Dean, Dean wasn’t even the one who released her - Sam and Cas and Rowena were. There could have been some great parallels to Ruby if she’d been obsessed with Sam, and I think we all would have one if she’d been into Rowena.

Notable Lines:

“Everyone loves something.”

“Before there was light, before there was God and the archangels, there wasn't nothing. There was the Darkness.”

“All my long life, I wondered what I'd done to deserve a mother who refused to show love. [...] Then one day, epiphany struck. My mother was incapable of loving anything. For the first time in hundreds of years, I felt free. And then you showed up in my dungeon, we communed, and I began to realize you weren't incapable of love. You're incapable of loving me.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 5.6

IMdB Rating: 9.1

In Conclusion: One episode remains…..

<< Previous Day | Next Day >>

#Stackednatural #supernatural #spn #6x21 #Let It Bleed #6x22 #The Man Who Knew Too Much #9x23 #Do You Believe in Miracles #10x23 #Brother's Keeper #second last day #can you all believe i made it this far

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zeppelinangel · 6 years

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she’s not just four wheels and an engine. she’s home.

#spnkin #spn kin #supernatural kin #supernaturalkin #canonsick #canonsickness #cas kin #caskin #castiel kin #castielkin #fictionkin #fiction kin #fictionkin memories #baby #67 chevy impala

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shirtlesssammy · 2 years

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6x17: My Heart Will Go On

And this is all folks...

Then:

You never really die on Supernatural

Now:

Chester, Pennsylvania

In a Rube Goldberg-esque bit of murder mastery, a man fumbles his way around his garage, nearly dying several times, only to finally get taken out by his falling garage door. What a ride.

Meanwhile, in Bobby’s neater than normal home, Sam and Dean watch him open another bottle of booze. They silently egg each other on to talk and finally decide on Rock-Paper-Scissors. Oop, it looks like you’re going to have to do the talking, Dean.

Only, wait, Dean won! They think he should take some time and sleep, and process losing Rufus. Bobby’s DOING FINE. He just needs some Irish coffee. Sam suggests taking him on a hunt. Seems like different family members are dying in Chester, Pennsylvania. Bobby kicks them out of the house, so they decide to head out alone.

They get in their trusty Mustang, and hit the road.

...

Bobby keeps drinking until Ellen (!) shows up.

…

She consoles him about Rufus and tells him to get ready for dinner.

And she’s his wife.

…

At the garage of horror, Sam finds a thread of gold.

They split up. Dean interviews next of kin. He first meets with a Saul Goodman wannabe Shawn Russo. The guy isn’t too upset by his family members dying --he wasn’t too close with them. He also doesn’t have a lot of time for Dean’s genealogy questions.

Dean tries sussing out any past family curse --poorly. Shawn wants Dean to go, so Dean just comes out and tells him, “Your life is in danger.” Shawn thinks Dean’s threatening him.

He connects with Sam who can’t find a single thing wrong with the family.

At a travel agency, we watch Anne Witting chat on the phone, and time suddenly stops. Another woman, looking like Sam’s kind of librarian, takes Anne’s keys from her purse and throws them on the floor next to the copier. She leaves and time starts again.

The woman gets off the phone and notices her keys are on the floor. Grabbing for them knocks a vase of flowers onto the copiers, which creates an electrical nightmare, which causes her to start slapping at it and finally reaching behind it to turn it off, which then causes her scarf to get stuck in the autofeeder, which the copier then tries to make a copy of, which strangles her. (Note to self: BE NICER TO THE COPY MACHINE.)

The blonde woman comes back and marks a name off in a book, and drops a gold thread.

The brothers check out the travel agency that night. It turns out that Anne isn’t part of the Russo family --so they’re not dealing with a family curse. Dean wonders what then. He then finds another gold thread.

He calls Ellen, who reports there’s been about 75 deaths associated with this across the nation. The only thing Ellen has that connects the people is that their ancestors all immigrated to the US in the same year, on the same boat: The Titanic. Neither Dean nor Ellen had ever heard of it.

Sam either. (And that’s when I call bull --unless this Sam isn’t a history nerd-- because the Titanic was a BIG deal before it became a BIGGER deal. It was the largest ship of its time. But as I typed this out, I feel like I should eat my words because there was another sister boat built with the Titanic, and I can’t for the life of me remember its name, so, yeah, chances are good it would have been lost to history for most people.)

During their research, Sam notes that the ship almost hit an iceberg, but the First Mate, I.P. Freely saw it in time.

Balthazar!

They summon Balthazar for answers about the boat. “It was meant to sink, and I saved it.” He hated the movie. (Boris is still one of the few and proud that’s never seen it --I cheered SO hard for Balthazar here.) (Natasha: I saw it six times in the theater! Two kinds of people.) He hated the Celine Dion song. Sam doesn’t even know who that is (HIS FAVORITE SINGER!) Sam points out that he thought that history can’t be changed. Balthazar points out that there’s no more rules. Anyway, only minor details have been changed --like no Impala.

More importantly, Ellen and Jo are alive. They are supposed to be dead.

Dean and Sam focus on the here and now and point out that something is killing the descendants of the Titanic travelers. They need to find out who. Balthazar drops a truth bomb out of nowhere --pointing out that Cas is in love with Dean. Sigh. Also, he doesn’t care, and flaps away.

They talk with Bobby on the phone and he thinks they’re dealing with Fate. How do they stop fate? Bobby suggests that they get Balthazar to re-sink the boat, but Dean nixes that idea instantly. Bobby wants to know what set him off --Dean tells him that if the boat sinks, Ellen and Jo die. Yeah, no way is that boat sinking.

The boys lurk in their iconic, uh, Mustang to follow Russo.

They follow Russo in an attempt to keep him safe from Fate’s machinations. They manage to save him from one deadly accident, only for the guy to die under the wheels of a bus seconds later.

Sam notices a woman watching over the accident. She looked kind of like a librarian. “Your kind of librarian or my kind of librarian?” Dean asks. Oh, Dean, why does it have to be a binary choice? Eyebrow waggle. Dean decides to head over and confront Fate in a shadowy building.

Inside the vacant restaurant the clock ticks menacingly, and then stops - even MORE menacingly. While the clock is stopped, Fate smugly turns on all the gas burners in the kitchen. When Dean’s flashlight starts to crap out on him, he asks Sam for a lighter. The lighter similarly fails until the very moment they open the doors to the kitchen. The flame kisses the cloud of gas and erupts into a massive fireball which--

Cas flaps in and saves the Winchesters. (I will never not be able to watch this scene without thinking of the gag reel and Misha stag leaping around the woods.)

Cas reports that they’ve arrived safely in Belarus. He tells them that Fate has a beef with the Winchesters. Why? Well, he conveys this sarcastically - “Nothing of import – just the tiny matter of averting the Apocalypse and rendering her obsolete. I think maybe she's a little irritated about that.”

Fate won’t stop pursuing them until they’re dead (lol, like that’ll stick) so they’re better off killing her now. Cas comes up with a plan. They’re going to tempt fate.

Ellen tries to talk through the case with Bobby after Jo reports more and more dead on the West coast. Ellen suggests that the best solution would be to re-sink the Titanic, a suggestion towards which Bobby reacts...poorly. Bobby’s horrified at her casual suggestion. Ellen senses something is off with Bobby. Over drinks, Bobby spills everything to Ellen. He tells her that he needs her.

After that solemn, emotional scene, we cut to Dean and Sam experiencing wacky near-misses. Cue the comic near-death montage! This montage has everything! Rogue teens! Angry dogs! (Extreme close of up Dean for extra sad jokes.)

People juggling knives and hatchets! And fire! “Can’t avoid Fate,” Sam says before walking DIRECTLY THROUGH the jugglers with Dean. Lol, that sure is tempting fate!

They successfully make it through the flaming weapons and past a construction worker with a malfunctioning nail gun, only for a huge appliance to fall on them, Looney Tunes style. Or rather, it ALMOST fridges them. The world freezes and Castiel approaches like a character gently walking onstage to address the audience in a Shakespeare play. Fate - Atropos - confronts him.

For the Looney Tunes / Shakespeare Mashup That Lives in My Head Science

She’s angry with him and his two human buds for dismantling millennia of work. “God gave me a job,” she spits. “We all had a script.” But once the apocalypse was averted she was left purposeless.

“Freedom is more preferable,” Cas insists. Atropos hates it and nobody in Heaven has a plan anymore. She tells him the last straw for her was unsinking the Titanic. When Cas tries to fob it off on Balthazar being…Balthazar, she refutes it. Balthazar is operating under CAS’S ORDERS.

She’ll make Cas a bargain: if the boat stays un-sunk, then she’ll kill his “two favorite pets.” She may not be strong enough to escape Cas’s retribution, but her sisters will take the Winchesters down after she dies. Cas contemplates Sam and Dean.

Balthazar shows up, ready to kill Atropos, when Cas stops him.

Cas gives a nod to Balthazar and it’s all he needs to do - Balthazar understands his new orders and announces resignedly that he’s heading back in time to sink the Titanic.

Sam and Dean wake to Celine Dion belting out “My heart will go on” - crucially, they’re again in the Impala. They were sleeping in the car at Bobby’s garage and realize they were dreaming the same thing.

Cas flaps in to greet them. He confirms that their dream was actually real - the Titanic DID cause some titanic problems for the Winchesters. Crucially, Cas tells them that he insisted Balthazar go back and fix it as though he was simply correcting a foolish prank. We don’t care about any of this right now, because Cas plainly tells them that sinking the Titanic was the ONLY WAY to be sure that the Winchesters were safe.

Sam and Dean try to process the balancing equation Cas dealt with, where their lives were more important than 50,000 people (who were never born, Cas hastily points out). Dean asks about Ellen and Jo, and the answer is NOT GOOD. What could have been!

Dean asks if that whole alternate timeline was erased when the boat sank again. Cas indicates that the alternate timeline gets erased “more or less.” Lol, okay Season 15 Supernatural. Cas wanted Sam and Dean to remember what happened, so that they remember that fate is cruel and capricious. (As are television executives.) “You can make your own destiny. You don’t have to be ruled by fate. I still believe that’s something worth fighting for,” Cas tells them. Can I get a HELL YEAH?

While it seems for a short while like Cas is edging towards telling them the truth of his war, he ultimately plays off the Titanic as only stemming from Balthazar’s hatred of the movie. “Titanic didn’t suck THAT bad,” Dean says. There’s my soft boy. Cas flaps out, and the Winchesters head inside to check on Bobby. His house is back to cluttered, gloomy chaos. Bobby’s asleep on the couch. Sam and Dean vow never to tell Bobby what he could have had.

Natasha: This episode has everything! Alternate timelines! Fate! Jensen Ackles’ most ridiculous expressions! Free will! Castiel! As soon as we got the season 15 news, we realized that the show would end before we could finish up our older recaps. This episode seemed like the perfect way to cap off the show from the remaining episodes, since it deals with themes of loss, what Castiel would sacrifice to save the Winchesters, alternate timelines, and the overarching exploration of fate/narrative versus free will.

Nice Quotestache:

Accidents don't just happen accidentally

No, no. I'm not threatening you. I'm just simply saying that if you don't watch your back, you're gonna die

"What's an Impala?" Trust me, it's not important

You have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trenchcoat who's in love with you

Can’t avoid fate

Who do we gotta kill to get killed around here?

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #bobby singer #ellen harvelle #balthazar #spn 6x17 #my heart will go on #supernatural season 6 #last recap

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hawaiiancowboyy · 3 years

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if you have a 69 chevy impala you are unwell and someone i do not want to interact with

here is a list of people who have that car

1. rich supernatural fans

•rich cishet dean fans who like dean and kin him for the WRONG reasons

2. jensen ackles

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holyhellpod · 3 years

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Heyoooo, it’s another episode of Holy Hell! This one is dedicated to the manchild himself, Dean Winchester.

Apple | Google | Spotify | Instagram | Patreon

Transcript below!

CW: discussions of child abuse, child death, suicide, alcoholism, family trauma, mental health

[Music]

Dean Winchester is, in a word, my soulmate. I started kinning him when the show aired in Australia on Fox8 and I have not been the same since. From his devil-may-care attitude to his undying love for his family that pierces the veil of death to save the day, he really is the most. I have to say at the beginning that this episode of Holy Hell will not include discussions of Dean’s sexuality and gender. I’m saving that for its own episode, so stay tuned my pals.

What we know of Dean as he develops over the course of the first episode is: he’s been hunting, and hunting alone, he’s 26 years old, he drives a sweet ‘67 Impala, he wears an old leather jacket, he listens to 1980s metal, and he has an arsenal of weapons and supernatural fighting talismans in his trunk. He’s also a smartarse, one of his most endearing qualities. He gets defensive about their mother and her death, and he defends their father over and over. He’s a loyal son and brother. The impetus to bring Sam back into the hunting life, after Sam decided for good that he was going to leave, is to bring his fambily back together.

The quality that defines Dean Winchester is how much he loves he loves his fambily. In the first episode, he is so worried about his father that he recruits Sam to help look for him, even though Sam and Dean haven’t spoken in two years, and Sam ran away to college rather than continue to live with their father. He spends most of the first season defending their father, but when John comes back and starts arguing with Sam, Dean protects his brother from John. It’s one of the most significant examples of character growth Dean undergoes throughout the entire series, and it’s where his loyalty shifts from John to Sam.

In the episode of season 2, “Croatoan,” Dean decides not to shoot Sam when Sam contracts the Croatoan virus which turns people rabid and makes them kill. In the next episode, “Hunted”, Dean reveals that John told him to kill Sam if Dean couldn’t save him. But Dean doesn’t. He says that John begged Dean not to tell Sam, but it’s not John’s words that keep Dean silent. It’s his love for Sam and Sam’s wellbeing. And this brotherly love slash codependency is used by characters throughout the entire series, from the demons in season 1 to the literal character of God in season 15, to manipulate Dean and Sam. As many characters have pointed out, including Dean and Sam themselves, they are each other’s weak points.

At the end of season two, when Sam dies from a stab wound in his spine, Dean trades his own life for Sam’s. He makes a deal with a crossroads demon—his soul for Sam’s life—and subsequently dies and goes to hell at the end of season 3. Dean literally dies a gruesome death and spends forty years being tortured in hell because he couldn’t live without Sam. At the end of Season 8, Sam is dying from the effects of the trials, which he undergoes in order to close the gates of hell, and Dean convinces him to stop because, again, he can’t live without Sam. Sidenote: this is where I stopped being interested in their brotherly dynamic to the point of losing interest in the show. It became clear to me that the showrunners were more concerned with rehashing the same tired storylines between Sam and Dean than focus on characters who could expand the world and make the show better. In fact, they killed a lot of the interesting side characters in order to keep the show solely focused on the brothers. The exception to this is Castiel, and the reason they kept Cas around is because when he died in season 7 the ratings tanked. If that wasn’t a clear enough sign that the showrunners needed to open up the show to more than just Sam and Dean’s caustic dynamic in which they die and kill for and then betray and lie to each other over and over, then I just don’t know what the fans could have done to convince them. Nothing, apparently, because they ended the show with just Sam and Dean.

Dean’s relationship with John is fraught with insecurity and codependency. Dean has so little sense of self that what he does consider to be his carefully curated list of likes and dislikes were inherited directly from John: his car, his leather jacket, his hunting abilities, and his music taste. He also throws himself into hunts without any regard for his own safety, because he doesn’t believe that he is worth saving, or that his life is worth living. His personality is crafted from both John’s reliance on him as a son, hunter and partner in crime, and the woman he assumes Mary to be. Dean’s sense of self-worth relies on how many people he can save. This is why, in season 2 episode “What is and what should never be,” Dean’s dream reality is one in which he’s a low life loser who disappoints his family—because without John pushing him to be a hunter, Dean doesn’t save people, and because he doesn’t save people, he isn’t worth anything. Bear in mind that this is the best reality Dean’s mind could conjure for him: one in which his father is dead, and he himself is not worth saving.

In one of the most famous exchanges, he asks Cas why an angel would rescue him from hell, and Cas replies, “What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved.” Twenty-nine years of bluster, insouciance, and a give-em-hell attitude crumbles in two sentences, wrought by a being Dean refuses to believe exists because, again, he doesn’t think that he deserves to be saved by them. He says, “[Why me? I don’t like getting singled out at birthday parties, let alone by God].” He thinks of himself so lowly that he accepted a one-year deal in exchange for Sam being alive. Dean cares so much about his family he lets it kill him.

But it’s not just Sam, Mary and John. Dean’s family grows to encompass a number of side characters: most notably Bobby their surrogate father, Charlie Bradbury the hacker, Claire Novak, Jack Kline, and Lisa and Ben Braeden. Even Mary makes another appearance in seasons 12 to 14. Unfortunately, because the show is the way it is, Dean puts Sam above all of these side characters, and then these characters are written out of the show. I should specify that Cas is not a side character; in most seasons, Misha Collins is billed as a main cast member, with his name appearing after Jensen Ackles in the credits. But he still dies in the third-last episode in order to have the show stay about the brothers. Even Jack, inarguably Cas and Dean’s son, is written out of the show in the second-last episode after dying multiple times. I say inarguably because I am not gonna argue with anyone about this. Claire and Jack are Dean and Cas’s kids. Dean and Cas are great parents who chaperone Jack’s prom and buy Claire her first hunting bow. They’re all one big happy, queer, neurodivergent family.

Dean loves the people in his life with reckless abandon. The times he’s excused Cas’s behaviour after Cas has done something ridiculous or foolish are too many to count. He grieves Cas’s multiple deaths, often succumbing to his alcoholism and entropy whenever Cas leaves him for more than a day. In a truly beautiful scene, Dean wraps Cas’s corpse in a curtain and watches, utterly and completely devastated, as his body burns. By this point, they have done so much for each other that it’s impossible to even envision the show without Cas, and indeed imagine Dean without his love for Cas. And we don’t have to for very long, as he always comes back a few episodes later. Even knowing this, the episodes where Dean mourns Cas are so heartbreaking and haunting that I cried for days after watching them.

Dean is great with kids, and every time he’s not is completely the fault of whoever is writing him in any given episode. We see him bonding with Lisa’s son Ben in season 3 and 6, Jesse in the season 5 episode “I Believe The Children Are Our Future,” and Lucas in the season one episode “Dead in the water”. With every child he meets, Dean gets on their level, empathising with them in a way most adults can’t. Like Claire and Jack, Dean has a complicated relationship with his father, who dies in the beginning of season 2 after bargaining his soul for Dean’s life to the demon that took their mother. Just like anyone else’s life, right? Must be Tuesday. This means Dean can relate to most children with traumatic backgrounds involving their parents, as a victim of parental abuse and having his mother die at age 4. I can’t find any sources to back this up, but a theory that rolled around in fandom was that Dean became mute after Mary died, which is what happens to Lucas after his father drowns. He says in “Dead In the Water” that he loves kids, and it’s true. As one tumblr user put it, Dean wanted to be baby trapped.

Dean carries the deaths and pain of his loved ones with him like Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. When Claire is bitten by a werewolf, the characters administer blood of the sire wolf that bit her in order to cure her of her lycanthropy. Dean has to leave the room while she’s in pain, because he can’t bear to watch her die. The same goes for when Jack dies. Thankfully, Claire lives and Jack comes back a few episodes later.

When thinking about Dean being a father, I’m reminded of that scene from Scrubs when Dr Cox says he’s worried about being a father because his own dad was an abusive alcoholic. The difference between Dr Cox and Dean is that Dean doesn’t have his reservations about raising kids. He fits into Lisa and Ben’s life easily, at least for the first year, and we see a montage which includes him teaching Ben how to fix cars. When Claire lets her guard down enough to hug Dean, he hugs back just as hard. When he finally deals with the trauma of Cas dying in season 13, he accepts Jack into his life, and even grieves Jack when he dies. Dean escapes the intergenerational trauma that plagues his family by being a fantastic dad to the random kids who happen into his life by chance. He was born to be a father, and the fact that this show took that away from him and us as the audience makes me want to kick the showrunners into the sun.

Until season 6, Dean’s family only included men. The concept of the nuclear family—two sons, a husband and a wife—was ripped apart in the prologue of the first episode when Mary dies. Dean doesn’t know family for the first 5 seasons of the show outside Sam, John, Cas and Bobby. I do consider Ellen and Jo to be important to the story, but they’re only in a handful of episodes and die in season 5 for a reason that is plainly ridiculous. Did the Winchesters have to lose every single person in their lives to the fight? Clearly Kripke thought they were going to be cancelled after the fifth season, because it shows. And honestly? Maybe they should have. Let’s retroactively cancel the whole show. It can’t hold power over us anymore, because it’s dead and we cremated it.

But when Dean moves in with Lisa and Ben, he discovers a new type of family he didn’t have before, and new family dynamics. Instead of the 28-year-old son that Sam is to him, he takes the opportunity to teach Ben about cars and spend time with him and Lisa without the need to hunt. He gets a job, he makes some friends, and he lives the safe, apple pie life he begrudged Sam for in the pilot episode. It’s only when Sam reappears in his life that Dean’s codependency strikes again and he realises that he can’t live half in the normal world with Lisa and Ben and half in the hunting world with Sam. Sam says this himself in the first episode of Season 6, “Exile On Main Street”. Despite the ways Dean tried to settle down throughout the rest of the 9 seasons, the showrunners ultimately decided a man who was healing from trauma and alcoholism, who had adopted two kids as his own, and was learning how to bake cakes for his son’s birthday, deserved to die at the ripe age of 40, a week or so after he’d learned that his best friend was in love with him. You gotta laugh. Instead of getting the ending both Dean and we deserved—which was Dean settling down, opening a bar, and living the next forty years in relative gay peace while he got fat and watched Cheers reruns—well, we got something else. And I will always be bitter about that.

While it’s clear from the first season that he has reckless and suicidal tendencies, he doesn’t stop fighting to the bitter end. Even when faced with his own impending death in the season 2 premiere, “In my time of dying,” he fights to stay alive for Sam and John, while working the mystery that is overcoming his own death. Devastated as he is by Sam diving into hell at the end of season 5 and seemingly gone for good, Dean still gets up everyday and makes a life for himself in Lisa’s home. While season 6 was overall a bummer of a season, just god-awful in every aspect, saved from my complete vitriol only by “The French Mistake,” it did show us how great a dad Dean can be, and readied us for what was to come—being Claire and Jack’s dad. The lengths he goes to for his family are immense and all-consuming. As Cas says in “Despair”, Dean is a being of love. He loves everyone else, even when he can’t find it in him to love himself. He really thinks that he’s just a killer, not a father or a husband.

I’ve never subscribed to the idea that we have to love ourselves before we can love anyone else, or before anyone else can love us. Sorry Rupaul, you old bitch. We are all deserving of love, because love sustains us and helps us grow. And when we don’t know how to, it’s through loving others that we can learn to love ourselves. If Dean knew what a great father and friend and husband and brother he is, if he could see himself the way others, in the show and out of it, see him, I think he’d burst. You don’t like getting singled out at birthday parties? Well tough shit, Dean Winchester, because I’m gonna devote an entire podcast to you.

I talked about Dean’s carefully curated list of likes and dislikes before but I’ll go into more detail now. Things he likes: guns; rock and roll; nice cars; women; fighting; scamming people at pool; back alley blowjobs, probably; pie; driving across the country; Ozzy concerts; cowboy movies; being in control of every little thing in his life. His dislikes are: flying on planes; hair metal; angels and demons; anyone who harms his brother, his best friend or his kids; boredom; and being jerked around.

Okay I literally cannot talk about the cowboy movies without mentioning that he makes Cas watch them with him, in his Deancave, and the implications of that make my head roll off my body and into the dirt. Like they literally have gay little movie nights and watch their gay little cowboy movies together and Dean says all the gay little lines. I said I wasn’t going to talk about his sexuality, but mentioning cowboy movies leads to Cas wearing a cowboy hat and saying “I’m your Huckleberry.” This makes me insane. Excuse me, I must have my daily scream.

Okay, I’ve collected myself. Have I? Let’s just move on. In the Winchester tradition of inherited family trauma, Dean gets all of John’s interests, and Sam gets all of John’s mistakes. Dean’s personality throughout the show is basically quippy remarks, pop culture references, laughing with food in his mouth, and grouchiness. In case you haven’t realised, he is amazing to me. Every time he fires a rifle or pistol? Couldn’t be better. Eating a burger made of out donuts? Fucking incredible. Even when faced with beings with untold power, he doesn’t lose his cool. One of my favourite exchanges is when Zachariah comes to Chuck’s house in the first episode of season 5, “Sympathy For The Devil,” and starts soliloquising at him, Dean tells him to “cram it with walnuts, ugly.” Cram it with walnuts, ugly. It’s been ten years and that still makes me laugh. Top ten Dean lines for sure. Like all of my main characters throughout the years of writing original fiction are just “Dean Winchester but girl,” and I’m a good writer, but I can never come close to the level of hilarity that he achieves. And every single writer on the show seems to get that. The only times I can think of where Dean’s characterisation has irked me on a writing level are in season 6—basically the entire thing—and the way he treats Jack in the later seasons, specifically late season 15. But it’s really rare for me to watch an episode and not enjoy Dean. Even throughout the Mark Of Cain era, which I loved, when things were very serious, he had such style and panache and held himself so confidently that I was like, wait maybe he made some points? Maybe he should kill everyone?

Dean is a hunter and a killer, but that’s not all he is. He’s very skilled in hand to hand combat, weaponry, and tactical manoeuvres. Even when something doesn’t go exactly to plan, he’s usually able to improvise something to end up with a win. Because he is the main character, his choices and reactions, while sometimes extremely problematic, are never questioned, and that’s to his detriment. In the last episode of season 14, “Moriah,” Dean is unable to kill Jack, but in early season 15, he treats Jack’s betrayal as Cas’s fault, because he can’t take it out on Jack. Cas leaves, but it’s framed as a good thing because Cas is Jack’s father, and has to take responsibility for what Jack has done. In this instance, I don’t blame Cas at all. Okay I rarely blame Cas for anything, including the things he’s done wrong, because no he didn’t and you can’t prove it. But he especially didn’t do anything wrong when Jack killed Mary, and he didn’t do anything wrong by killing Belphagor. But by the middle of the season, in the episode “The Trap,” Dean admits his wrongdoing in taking his anger out on Cas, one of the only people who loves him without conditions. You’d think this would be a defining moment of character progression, but then Dean chooses to act exactly the same way by throwing Jack under the bus. Like, throwing him harder, under a bigger bus. So what was the point.

Anyway, those are choices the writers made, and not Dean.

Going back to what I was saying about being neurodivergent, Dean has adhd. I know this because I have adhd, and I’m Dean-coded. He’s wildly creative, impulsive, has a touch of OCD, and he has a hard time making long-lasting friends, although this is mostly due to how all his friends die. His best friend is an autistic angel and the only reason they’re still friends is because they’re obsessed with each other, in like a really unhealthy way. One of the funny things about his and Cas’s relationship is that every time you see them in the same shot, Cas is standing perfectly still and Dean is constantly moving. They are almost complete opposites, aside from their queerness and neurodivergence. But then, I haven’t met a single queer person in my entire life who isn’t neurodivergent or disabled in some way. That doesn’t mean we can’t live perfectly functional and normal lives, it just means we’re better than everyone else.

Dean also exhibits black and white thinking—to him all felons are redeemable and all monsters should be killed. Felons are redeemable because he himself is a felon, and monsters should be killed because they all do monstrous things. When faced with the possibility of angels being real, he refuses to believe it for the first two episodes, because, as he says, “he’s never seen one.” Eventually he learns how to see in shades of grey and not kill every monster he meets, but this is because of his time in purgatory with Benny, his Cajun vampire boyfriend.

Another sign of Dean’s ADHD is physical sensitivity. In the season one episode “Bugs,” he comments on the shower’s water pressure. Like it’s a big deal to him, when he’s only ever used 1-star motel room showers. In the later seasons, he’s also seen to wear a fluffy robe and soft pajamas with hotdogs on them and socks that say “Send Noods” but noods spelt like noodles. And so he should! Dean deserves comfort! He’s a special boy.

ADHDers often have problems with executive function—remembering appointments, cleaning up after ourselves, showering, eating, even going to the toilet when we need to pee. The hunting life excludes Dean from the normal functions of usual life, such as dentist appointments, dropping the kids off at school, meal prepping for the week, or turning up to a job on time. These were only factors in Dean’s life during the gap between seasons 5 and 6 when he lived with Lisa and Ben, and it’s not shown how his executive dysfunction impacted his suburban, settled life, but Lisa does mention that Dean drinks a lot. It’s another thing he inherited from John, much as I did my alcoholism from my father, and my adhd too. But Sam doesn’t drink to excess more than a handful of times over the entire 15 seasons, whereas Dean subsists on alcohol to get through the day. At one point in season 11, I’m pretty sure, don’t fact check me, he is shown to be drinking a beer at about 10 in the morning, because, as he says to Sam, “You drank all the coffee. What do you want me to do? Drink water?” Dean your liver must be quaking.

Excess is a common problem for people with ADHD. We have problems with limiting ourselves—because our dopamine machine broke, anything that gives us a little bit of high—such as sugar, sex, alcohol, stimulants, any kind of food that is bad for us but tastes real good—we usually have it in excess because we can’t help ourselves. In the season 4 episode “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester,” Dean eats the entirety of the candy in the Impala. The only reasons I don’t eat everything in my fridge every day is because, one, I don’t have the money, and two, it’s all ingredients I have to prepare and not ready-made food. Whereas Dean has only known fast food for the first 10 or so seasons until he starts cooking and baking and settling into domesticity. Like anyone who gets UberEats every day instead of cooking for themselves knows how expensive that is. He also engages in meaningless sex, although people have pointed that Sam actually gets more on screen action than Dean. But I know a lot of amab people who engage in casual sex with randos because it satisfies a base need. Dean could be classified as hypersexual in some regards, but I know what hypersexuality feels like and it’s like this overwhelming miasma where you can’t think about anything except how horny you are, and I don’t think Dean has that normally. Maybe when he was a demon in season 10, but generally I think he can control himself.

His settled life in the men of letters Bunker is a far cry from his flashbacks in season 8 to Purgatory. From what we know of purgatory, the land of gods and monsters, it was a year-long monster hunt, but without any of the boring paperwork. Dean got to fight and kill as many vampires, ghouls, leviathan, etc as came his way, which is why it’s absolutely ridiculous that he died by rebar in a vampire fight. He spent an entire year spilling blood and chopping off heads, day and night, and he dies by metal bar to the spine? And he’s not even coughing up blood? Andrew Dabb, I’m coming for you. Of course purgatory is the perfect place for Dean because it’s constant adrenaline, constant excitement, constant stimulation, which is what every day life lacks. Even Dean’s every day life is like, 20% monster killing and the rest is leg work. They go weeks or months between cases, and sometimes don’t find the monster at all. So I’m not surprised he gets bored easily and drinks. Would if I could too, my pal.

Which leads me onto Dwelling. Dean dwells on the horrors of his life in a way I do and my carefree older brothers don’t. In the season 4 episode “Heaven and Hell,” he reveals to Sam that he remembers his entire forty years in hell, and there are flashes of his memory littered throughout the season in creepy, split-second increments. He dwells on the people who die, doing his thousand-yard stare into the funeral pyre of everyone they cremate. In the most egregious display of dwelling, he rewrites history TWICE to deal with his grief — in season 8 he makes himself believe that it was his fault Cas didn’t come back from purgatory with him, and again in season 13 he invents the story of Jack controlling Cas to deal with his grief over Cas’s death. His PTSD twists the truth until it becomes another way to torture himself, because if someone gets hurt it’s on him; everyone who loves him is just one more person to disappoint.

On a lighter note, Hyperfixations, equivalent to Autism special interests, are a common trait of ADHD. Some of Dean’s hyperfixations include: hunting in general; cowboys and cowboy movies; the musical Rent; the movie Braveheart; larping. He loves dressing up and acting, and what is putting on a monkey suit and lying about being a Fed if not larping? Oh god the meta of that coupled with the season 4 episode “The Monster At The End Of This Book” is making my head hurt. And actually, the next episode of Holy Hell is on the subject of meta-textuality so stick around if that’s something you enjoy.

One of the amazing things about ADHD is creativity. Since we’re easily bored and easily amused, we’re constantly pushing the boundaries of our curiosity. In season three episode “Bloodlust,” Dean decapitates a vampire with a miter saw, something that even veteran vampire hunter Gordon Walker comments is a thing of beauty. Dean creates a Ma’lak box in season 14 episode “Damaged Goods” as a way to contain Michael if he ever inhabits Dean’s body again. Dean is always making up words like “were-pire” and “Jefferson Starships,” and he has an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of pop culture, which he references in almost every line of dialogue. Like tv and movies raised me, but even I don’t understand a lot of his references. It’s almost like he’s a character in a tv show being written by dozens of people. But that’s not right. He’s a real person and my friend. My friend Dean Winchester, who shouts me burgers and passes out on my couch.

Also, I’m bragging now but as of the day of writing this I got my ADHD diagnosis and it feels so good to have a doctor, a psychiatrist in fact, confirm my belief. After about three or four years of figuring out I have adhd and then trying to make everyone else believe me when I say I do, it feels like a huge weight off. Dean deserved to feel that. He deserves to put a name to his differences and be in charge of his life instead of letting his anger, confusion and impulses control him. If anyone is worried that you might have something and don’t know whether to pursue a diagnosis, my two cents are that it has only improved my life. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Affective Disorder in 2014 and it allowed me to go on medication, which snapped me out of the worst period of anxiety I have ever gone through and also a psychotic episode that featured talking walls and a swarm of Christmas beetles. Trust me, we all need help sometimes, and some people like me need more help than others, but you can take control of the forces in your life that hold you back. As my mother used to say to me when I was a child, the world is your oyster. It really fucking does get better, and since I started on the right anti-depressants for me my life has improved so goddamn much. The world is fucked right now, and it’s impossible to even function on most levels. We all need therapy. I myself have a gp, a psychiatrist, and a psychologist and they keep me relatively sane. I would not be alive if I didn’t have years and years of ongoing therapy and good drugs. Plus I journal everyday and practice gratitude. I’m still crazy but the craziness is contained and doesn’t hurt me anymore.

Despite never going to therapy, Dean grows from being a loner with one friend (his own brother) to someone with a wealth of connections and family. He picks up new people to love like he’s velcro, and when he goes in he goes all in. He would die for the people he loves. He’s constantly putting himself in danger to protect his loved ones. In the Season 6 episode “Let It Bleed,” Dean captures and tortures demons in an effort to find out where Crowley took Lisa and Ben. He then has Cas wipe their memories so that they don’t remember him and can live their lives without him, at his own great distress. In season 5, he goes to Stull Cemetery to impinge on the fight between Lucifer and Michael, just to be there for Sam. As Dean says, he’s “not going to let him die alone.”

That being said, I do have to talk about Dean’s very few, but ultimately life-ruining, flaws. His emotional dysregulation makes his moods unpredictable at best. By virtue of his black and white thinking, he forces the people he loves to choose sides between him and other characters, such as Sam and Ruby, Cas and Crowley, Mary and the british men of letters, and Cas and Jack, and when they don’t choose him, he passively aggressively, and sometimes just aggressively, tortures them until something else usurps their betrayal. His anger issues are par to none, and often get him in a lot of trouble. But since he is the main character, he never really faces consequences for this, and neither does he mature. Even in the final season episode “The Trap,” while Dean admits how angry he is and how wrong he was for taking it out on Cas when Jack died, mere episodes later in “Unity” he turns Jack into a nuclear reactor to take out God, and Jack dies again. His characterisation in the last few seasons, especially in regards to Jack, is all over the place. I would have to start a murderboard to explain how Dean feels about Jack and how he reacts to what Jack does in every episode. Like, pictures and red string and everything. And even then I would not be able to comprehend exactly what the writers did and what they thought they were doing.

But unlike me, Dean always believes the best in people until proven otherwise, and he does always come around to the people who atone for their sins. Even when Sam refuses to get his soul back in season 6, Dean keeps trying until Sam is put right. Between seasons 7 and 8, He spends a year in Purgatory looking for Cas despite how Cas sent Sam insane, ingested billions of monster souls, and became God. When the people he loves choose him, he chooses them back.

But even when they betray him, lie to him, deceive him, and hurt the other people in his life, he can’t stop loving them. He never stops loving Sam or Cas or Jack or Mary or John or Bobby. He loves with everything he has. He is, as Cas says, a being of love.

Oof. That was a lot of words and I feel like I only just scratched the surface. Like realistically I just talked about fambily and ADHD. There is just so much to Dean Winchester that maybe I’ll make another episode sometime. But I am definitely making an episode purely about Dean’s gender presentation and sexuality in the future. You can find the show at holyhellpod on Tumblr where I post transcripts for the episodes and Instagram where I post memes.

I don’t see myself doing an episode about Sam any time soon, Not because I don’t like Sam, but because I can’t stand Jared Padalecki. He’s done some things that I can’t support, and I’m really bad at separating the art from the artist. Especially when it’s something like Supernatural, which is not art. Supernatural is an experiment. It’s not Johnny B. Goode by Chuck Berry. Like Jared Padalecki didn’t invent rock and roll, you know what I’m saying? However, if you really want me to do an episode about Sam, you can pay me 101 Australian dollars and 50 Australian cents at patreon.com/holyhellpod. I’ll talk to you next time.

Links

http://www.scififantasynetwork.com/dean-winchester-has-adhd/

#supernatural #spn #supernatural podcast #dean winchester #holyhellpod #transcripts

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mybrainproblems · 3 years

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I'm sorry didn't jensen 'drama queen dean kin' ackles make a whole fuss about teaching Alex how to drive a manual????? so if the impala's an automatic...... what the FUCK

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I am so ???????? Like consistency is not supernatural’s strong suit but at this point I’m 99% sure that it’s not even a continuity error of baby being an automatic sometimes and a manual at other times and just straight up they wanted to have it be a manual even tho it wasn’t and would just say it was.

Okay okay actually rather than just razz on the show and Jensen, I took the 5min and looked it up. It sounds like he specifically wanted Alex to get some driving lessons bc the Impala is a long car/has a heavy front engine and he was going to be driving the hero car (link) and not that it was a manual car. Which actually... fair. If the car hasn’t had major updates/retrofits then yeah, old cars drive really different to modern ones (must have at least done brakes and steering tho) and the OG Dean kinnie clearly cares a lot about baby. And tbh I feel on that. So: I retract my initial “you bunch of fucking lunatics” reaction lol

Dean is exactly the sort of guy I would mock mercilessly about not driving a manual car though. Baby deserved to be a manual.

#impala discourse #spn #i am in way too deep on the impala discourse but i love vintage american iron #it is a great tragedy to me that i am too practical to get a vintage challenger and ones in good condition are expensive #but i live in the boston area and a tiny hatch is great for tight quarters parking and maneuvering #i would actually not be surprised if part of the reason baby is an automatic is the price #manual vintage muscle cars tend to go for more from what i've seen #there are fewer automatics from that era and they're also less desirable (early automatics suck ass)#(okay personal opinion: all automatics suck ass and i will continue to drive my base model manual until it dies)#i'm a car person so i could go on about this for ages #anonymous #ask a brain problem

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rebellect-writes · 4 years

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[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 22. [b]How did this happen?:[/b] He needed an updated application.

[align=center][IMG]http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lidyo4kwgL1qexe87.gif[/IMG][/align]

[b]Name:[/b] Tegan Jonathon Frost [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] [LIST] [*] Alias/Fake ID: Tegan Summers. [*] Nicknames: Tee, Teg, Frost, Frosty. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 31 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 24/01/1981. [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Bisexual; but happily taken by a guy. [b]Occupation:[/b] RPIT Detective Inspector.

[b]Animal Species:[/b] African Leopard. [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/teganapplication2.png[/IMG] [i]Weight:[/i] 155lbs [i]Length:[/i] 9' from nose to tail tip. [i]Height:[/i] 30 inches at the shoulders. [i]Coat:[/i] Creamy tanned yellow with dark rosettes. [b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] [URL=http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/wereleopard_by_koutanagamori-d32f28a.jpg]Indeed he does.[/URL][LIST]Tegan stands at a rough seven foot tall in this form and weighs in at a hefty 320lbs. From head to foot he’s covered in tawny gold fur with black spots, has a tail, paws instead of hands and feet and while he may appear more feline than human in this form, but he’s more than capable of speech. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Nimir Raj. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 10 years and 7 months. [b]Mind set:[/b] Dominant. [b]Power level:[/b] Alpha. [b]Powers:[/b][LIST] [*] Hybrid form. [*] Healing through touch. [*] Force/Prevent shift in both leopards and jaguars. [*] Resist a vampire’s direct gaze. (480 and under). [*] Can shield his beast and appear human. [/LIST] [b]Face Claim:[/b] Shane West [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/teganapplication.png[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 6’0. [i]Weight:[/i] 165lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Hazel green. [i]Hair:[/i] Light brown. [i]Build:[/i] Average, athletic. [i]Visible marks:[/i] Tee’s back is pretty clawed up from when he was attacked and infected, from shoulders to the small of his back he looks like he’s been whipped. He has a torn bite scar on his side just over right his hip. He has a black panther tattoo on his left shoulder and on his right shoulder, Tee has a large fleur-de-lis. Over his heart he has "Satori". [i]Style:[/i] Generally Tegan likes to leave an impression on people, so he generally wears a suit to work. However when he’s kicking around the house he’s more than happy to wear casual things like jeans and t-shirt.

[b]Special Skills:[/b] [LIST] [*] Knows a little Russian and Spanish, just enough to get him by and is currently learning Italian. [*] Good under the hood of a car; his baby is proof. [*] Moderately proficient with firearms. [*] Knows basic hand to hand/close combat skills. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b] [LIST]Compared to his twin brother, Oliver, Tegan is the calmer and more rational of the Frost brothers despite being fairly rough around the edges. He may be a little unorthodox at times depending on the situation at the time – especially when conventional methods don’t work in his favour - but that doesn’t make him a bad person, he just doesn’t like to mess around when it comes to some things such as work, leadership responsibilities and his family life. Outside of those three aspects of his life, Tegan’s pretty chilled out and the type of person that will always try and be there for someone else no matter the cost to him. Of course that’s not to say that he won’t think things through either before or after. He is the type to hang out and have a few beers after work with his friends, shoot hoops at the park on his time off if he isn’t tied up with something else.

He’s loyal. Even if someone betrays him, Tegan will likely keep an eye on that someone. He may not be that willing to throw himself in the line of fire, but he’d be there. While he may not be that trusting from the start of a relationship, Tee goes to some extreme measures to work on trust between him and the other person – or persons - involved. He may, at times, keep some things to his chest such as choices and decisions regarding the Pard or work, and derail the conversation should they come up before he’s ready to talk about them. It just means that he’s thought things through. He may not show it at times, but he does care about the people close to him; and in his mates case, he cares a great deal but what he says go without question. His very family orientated in his own way. Tegan was raised that idle hands could always be put to work elsewhere, and that manners were important on top of always being there for kin.

Tegan is anti-vampire for the most part. But that isn’t to say that he’ll go out of his way to cause trouble for any vampire that crosses his path. He’d just rather prefer that they leave him and his pard alone, but since life isn’t that fair, and he knows for experience that most vampires take what they want, he’s personally remained remarkably cautious about the species as a whole. He doesn’t really mind when someone in his pard has connections to a vampire (though he’ll growl about it if he sees something he doesn’t like), he won’t micromanage the pard that way, all he asks that those with vampire affiliations take their business elsewhere as he won’t put up with a vampire in his house or in his face. He’ll try and be civil with a vampire, he really will, but the bad experiences with the vampires have kept him at odd when it comes to them.

His personal preferences are damned when it comes to his work. It doesn’t matter if he’s dealing with a human, a shifter, vampire or something all else altogether, he likes to keep things as professional as possible even if he’s out of his element. Tegan’s not exactly a work-a-holic - Ok, well he is, but he wouldn’t call himself that – but he does at some times overwork himself and just keep going until he drops or gets told to take a break. His feelings on the other supernatural differ depending on what he’s drawn into. If it’s personal, that’s fine with him, he’ll roll with the punches but if someone or something thought that dragging his Pard into their issues was going to be fun, Tegan would fight tooth and nail to get them out of it. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Working out. [*] Playing the guitar. [*] A decent cup of coffee. [*] Keeping busy with work. [*] Working on his car when he’s stressed. [*] Having some fun with friends. [*] Having a drink after work. [*] Closing a case. [*] Movie nights in. [*] Climbing as a cat. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Vampires. [*] Chick flicks. [*] An unsolved case. [*] Inner Pard fighting. [*] When he’s put on the spot. [*] When someone lies to his face. [*] People that make him repeat himself. [*] His twin brother when he’s being an ass. [*] When people eye his car for the 'oh cool' buzz. [*] People that think he's a push over and try to be a leader. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] Twin empathy. [*] He actually listens to people. [*] Very protective of the Pard. [*] Standard alpha strengths. [*] Shielding his beast, he barely notices when he shields now. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Can't resist a vampire’s call or gaze (the latter 400+ years.) [*] Twin empathy can be a pain in his ass. [*] His 1966 Impala SS Sport Coupe! He’s poured a lot of time into his baby. [*] Can have a bit of a hot head at times. [*] Possessive of his mate. [/LIST][b]History:[/b] [LIST]Thirty one years ago in Bucklin, Missouri USA, Tegan J. Frost was brought kicking and screaming into the world seconds before his twin brother did. His father, James was delighted and so was his mother, Dawn Frost. However things didn’t go so well. Within minutes of both boys being brought into the world, Oliver died and was spirited away by one of the nurses on call during the delivery. It was a sad state of affairs, and both parents were devastated, Dawn more so than her husband because little did Mrs Frost know, her other son was alive and in the hands of her husband’s mistress and bit on the side. News of Oliver’s ‘death’ was a dramatic blow to the family and people close to the newly wed Frosts once they returned home with their surviving boy to start their new life.

Life for Tegan was pretty simple and family orientated while he was growing up. Despite the fact that it was his mother that was the role model in his life because his father was almost constantly away due to work and would only be home a few months at any one time. When he was home, however, Tegan always tried to stay clear of his father because the elder Frost believed that a good old fashioned beating would toughen any boy up to be a man. He took his licks when they came to him; which was generally when his mom wasn’t around or when he’d done something really bad that a talking to didn’t seem to cover. Respect was one of the things that James Frost demanded, and while Tee may have respected his old man, in the same breath he couldn’t stand him either.

Throughout school, even though Tegan had his ups and downs for various reasons, he tried to make his parents proud. It wasn’t until he was seventeen that Tegan was given something that took his mind off the typical teenage issues that plagued everyone that age; a girlfriend, school grades and peer pressure. On a trip home, his father gave him the keys to the old car in the garage that he’d never been able to give the attention it needed. It was a wreck, but Tegan saw the potential right away and over the next year and a half he put his heart and soul into fixing the machine up while his friends wandered their own way assuming that he thought that he was better than them. It was around about this time that he really sat down to think about what he was going to do with his life.

He could’ve gone into the army like his father, or he could’ve done countless other things like settle down with a wife like his mom hinted at, however Tegan decided that he would rather go into law enforcement. It was something that he hadn’t decided on a whim, and the evening that he’d decided to tell his parents, his life changed when his mom turned around and told him that his father had passed on. It was shocking, and it numbed Tegan to the point he didn’t speak to anyone – not his mother, his girlfriend or even the guy at the corner store - until the day of the funeral almost a week after he’d gotten the news. It was during the service that things took a dramatic turn once more. Half way through, a punk rocker rolled up like he owned the world. It could’ve been handled easily if it had been anyone else, expect the guy looked exactly like Tegan.

He introduced himself as “Ollie”, James' son.

His dad wasn’t even in the ground twenty minutes before a fight between the boys broke out and they were only separated when Dawn got in between them and forced them to back off. Tee was mortified at what he’d done and Ollie was fuming that Dawn had got between them, but Dawn didn’t leave it at that. She chewed on both her boys before Ollie stormed off in one direction and Tee in the other. Tegan didn’t go home for two days after the funeral and revelation that his twin brother was alive, he was a mess emotionally and pushed everyone away when they tried to get close. He’d lost his father, gained a brother that he’d always been told was dead, his mom had no answers she really wanted to give him and even his girlfriend at the time wanted him as far away from her as possible for the scene at the funeral. He may have been a mess, but he did return home after a few days when he’d had a chance to calm down. The day he came home, he and his mom had a bit of a talk that had been long overdue. His mom told him how things had been strained with her and James’s marriage but she never dreamt that it would affect him. Then when he hesitantly broached the topic about Oliver, all he was given a phone number – somehow she’d managed to snag that before Ollie had left – before she changed the topic. He could see that it still hurt her, so Tegan left his mother to it and went about his own business.

In retrospect, he probably should have told Dawn that he was moving out and applying to the force. She probably would have been fine with it if he had been staying local where they could still keep in touch daily, however when she found out that he was moving to San Francisco, Dawn flipped! She tried everything that she could but nothing seemed to faze Tegan who was only a few months shy of his nineteenth birthday. The move itself was relatively pain free, and as scary as the prospect of beginning his own life away from anything familiar was, Tee pushed on as best that he could. It wasn’t until a three months after his twentieth birthday that he decided, well and truly, that the SFPD was the right occupation for him and applied to join the force. The tests and exams almost made him change his mind half way through the process; his time at the academy however flew by with very little memorable moments, and within half a year he was a fully-fledged cop.

Things didn’t really change for Tegan until mid-June, two thousand and two. On a call out with his partner in the downtown area – Pacific Heights if you want the exact location -, both officers were lead to believe that the disturbance were just bored kids. In fact there was money riding on the fact that they’d find some kids hunkered down in a court yard making weird noises to spook the residents who just happened to be around at the time. What the two officers found was something a little bit more than a couple of kids playing pranks. Caught in an alley way, mid transformation was a leopard shifter that attacked first and asked questions never. Perry died within minutes as the panicked and enraged monster charged them and swatted him into a wall, snapping his neck. Tee managed to get two shots off before the beast transformed fully into the nastiest looking feline he’d ever seen. Rather than attempting to run, Tee did the opposite and attempted to put the beast down. It didn’t work, and the exact details of the mauling were lost under the pain and finally, thankfully, unconsciousness.

Tegan woke up a week later in a secured hospital ward, having healed enough from the attack to be allowed visitors by his doctor. The visitor in question was the deputy chief of Field Operations and ultimately, Tegan’s superior officer. He explained what had happened as well as informing him about Perry’s passing and such. The daze that he’d listened in quickly vanished when the deputy chief brought up possible retirement. When Tegan panicked and asked why, he was told that no one wanted to work with a monster that could turn any moment and attack fellow officers. What was worse, outside of the early retirement, the FOB deputy chief then proceeded to berate him for not killing the leopard creature or helping to save his partner’s life. In the end, it was all too much for Tegan and he sank somewhat blissfully into unconsciousness once more as his doctor hustled the superior officer out of the room. Two weeks later, Tegan discharged himself from hospital against the wishes of his doctor. The first place he went was to work and as distraught as he was, Tegan kicked up enough of a fuss that he managed to wangle a meeting with the Deputy Chief. It may have cost him his position in the Metro division, but that didn’t bother him then. After a long and painful talk that seemed to take hours and perhaps because he could see Tee’s desperation over the idea of being kicked from the force, the DC brought up another option that Tegan could take instead of retirement. A transfer to the UK; more to the point a transfer to a new division that allowed supernaturals to work on the force, known as the Royal Preternatural Investigation Team. Seeing as it was Tegan’s only option outside of losing his job, he accepted and within the week he was on a plane to the UK with the assurance from the Deputy Chief that things would be sorted by the time he’d landed.

Unfortunately, things had been cut a little too close for comfort. With days of finding a new place to live and moving in, Tee’s first shift hit him like a tonne of bricks. When he came around, he found that his flat had been torn apart, but that wasn’t what freaked him out the most. What unnerved him, was the fact that he woke up to find a couple bustling around his apartment like they owned the place. They introduced themselves – after Tegan had demanded to know what the hell they were doing - as the Nimir Raj and Nimir Ra of Jackford and when confronted and told that Tegan had no idea exactly what a Nimir Raj or Ra was, the female shifted into the biggest snow leopard he’d seen in his life outside of a television show. The Raj – he introduced himself as Ross – explained that they’d found him in the woods just a few miles north of where Tegan lived, and rather than confront him there and then, had followed him back to the flat. Personally, Tegan was fine with that and thanked them, however Emma – the Ra – chose that moment to pipe in after she’d shifted back, and demand to know when Tegan would’ve sought them out as Rogues weren’t welcome in Jackford and if he didn’t join the Pard, then they would have no choice but to force him out of the city or kill him. Put on the spot with all of this news and knowing deep down that he was severely out matched in every way, Tegan did the sanest thing he could, and asked if he could join the Pard figuring that it was the lesser of two evils and that there wasn't much else that could really happen to him.

Being part of the Pard didn’t affect his job that much and he tended to stay away from the brewing troubles between the clan’s alphas. It wasn’t until the summer of two thousand and four however, that things changed drastically for them all. Ross and Emma had made a bargain with one of the local vampires that could call leopards. In exchange for the resources that the master vampire could give them, the Nimir Raj and Ra handed over their Clan to be used as however “Andrei” felt fit. This sparked an inter clan war between the alphas, and while they were fighting, the vampire turned his attention to the weaker werecats in the clan, and over the space of a few months, Tegan was being used as a walking, talking, blood bag just like many of the other Pard were as the little “rebellion” was crushed.

New arrivals came and old clan members left almost constantly, it seemed. However, one spunky new member to the clan caught Tegan’s attention. Sera was an omega like himself, and it didn’t take her attitude long to provoke an alpha that had a habit of picking on the weaker cats to make him feel bigger. Rather than see her punished for something unbelievably stupid like he had done over the year that she’d been in the group, Tegan got between them which surprised him and everyone else involved since he’d never gotten involved in any trouble or issues within the Pard, choosing to keep a distance from most things unless he was dragged into it. The stronger lycanthrope made his displeasure known and kicked the proverbial spots off Tegan’s hide before finally going on his own way, but not before leaving Tegan with some scars that he couldn’t get rid of afterwards. It was the beating that made something in Tegan click into place, and rather than stand back and let things carry on they were, he took action.

Rather than continue to view things from the side, Tegan pushed himself on and trained harder just like Sera did. He worked his way through the power structure when things between the Pard leaders and the vampires fell apart, and when he finally reached alpha status after eight years of nonsense, Tegan challenged Ross for leadership. Ross indulged him, figuring that it would be easy to break Tegan’s new found backbone and that ego was his downfall. Tegan ended up tearing out Ross’s throat during their fight, and despite the wounds that he’d suffered, when the Ra came upon them, he turned on her too. Yet, when he had her where he wanted her, where he could end her, Tegan backed off and told her that if he ever saw her face again or caught her scent in Jackford that he would do the same to her as he had her mate. Emma was wise enough to see where she was beaten and bolted into the woods, and that was the last that Tegan – or anyone else from the Pard - ever saw of the Queen.

That was almost three years ago, when he took the throne of the Life Forger Pard, and Tegan’s continued to maintain the position and bring the Pard back together as it should be without being some kind of a tyrant, as well as maintain his job. He’s even managed to win the heart of his mate and that suits him. [/LIST][/SIZE]

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queen-of-deans-booty · 6 years

Text

Bedtime Stories- Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,091

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, implied smut, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

A few hours later, you were waiting by the Impala while Sam and Dean talked with the paramedics who took the teenage girl away to get her help. You sighed and stared at the apple, trying to think where this little girl might have come from. Sam and Dean walked back over to you and you bit your lip, tossing the apple to Dean who caught it.

“Does this thing mean something to you?” Dean asked, tossing the apple to Sam.

“I think it’s Snow White.” You said, making Sam nod his head.

“Snow White? Ah, I saw that movie. Or the porn version anyway, because there was this wicked Stepmother? Woo, she was wicked.” Dean grinned and you rolled your eyes, continuing your thought process.

“There is a wicked stepmother and she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple.” You said, catching the apple when Sam threw it back to you.

“But the apple doesn't actually kill the girl, right?” Dean asked.

“No, it puts her into a deep sleep that makes it seem like she’s dead. But, I have another theory…” You began.

“You think the girl is Snow White, per say, right?” Sam filled in the pieces.

“Yeah. She flickered away and in her place, was the apple. I think, whoever she is, her stepmom tried to poison her.” You and the brothers looked at one another before nodding. It was clear what you needed to do. You needed to go back to the hospital to see if there were any comatose little girls that could possibly be doing this.

“No, I’m sorry, we don’t have any comatose little girls,” The nurse said when she came back. You were all dressed up in your professional clothing, ready to get answers but there was none to be taken.

“You sure?” Sam asked.

“Totally. It’s mostly just old guys and well… Callie. She’s been around before I started here,” The nurse said.

“Callie?” You asked, not sure who she was.

“Yeah, it’ so sad. Poor Dr. Garrison, he just… won’t give up on her.”

“Is Callie one of his patients?” Dean asked.

“No, his daughter,” The nurse said in a sympathetic tone.

“Which room is she in?” You asked, getting the information from the nurse. You thanked her and you three walked down the hall, towards the room she was in. You stopped when you saw Dr. Garrison by his daughter’s bed, reading to her. But she wasn’t a little girl, she was an adult girl who wasn’t responding to anything. Was this little girl Callie?

You three watched the doctor read a bit until he looked up and saw you by the window. He shut the book and stood up, walking to the door and out of the room.

“Detectives. Can I help you?” He asked.

“We just... heard that Callie is your daughter,” Dean said, sympathetic.

“And we wanted to say how very sorry we are,” Sam added.

“Well, uh. Thank you. If you'll excuse me.” Dr. Garrison said, pushing past Sam and Dean, walking down the hall.

“Oh, heading this way? We'll walk with you,” Dean said, him and Sam walking with the doctor. You looked at Callie and knew if you could just touch her, you would know for sure if she was the little girl or not. You opened the door just as Sam and Dean’s voices got farther away. “How long's Callie been like that?”

You slipped into the room and closed the blinds to have privacy. You looked at Callie, seeing her there, hooked up on life support. You didn’t like this any more than anyone else did but it had to be done. You walked over to her and sat down where her dad was sitting.

“Hi Callie, it’s me. Remember seeing me in that house? You showed me that you were poisoned. Is that what happened to you?” You said to her even though you knew she wouldn’t answer. You felt like something was behind you and you turned around, seeing the little girl again.

“Is this you?” You asked her and she nodded.

“I need you to show me what happened, okay?” You said to the little girl before touching Callie’s arm. You gasped and got the Supernatural vibe from her just as a vision clouded your eyes. You saw the little girl, Callie, and what looked to be her stepmother, talking. It seemed normal at first until the stepmother was forcing Bleach down her stepdaughter’s throat. You gasped and withdrew your hand, knowing what had happened to her.

The door to the room opened and you expected it would be Callie’s dad but it was Sam and Dean who was looking confused.

“What happened?” Dean asked, seeing your pale face. You got up and looked at the end of the bed but the little girl was no longer there. You got up and took Sam and Dean by the hand, leading them out of the room. You didn’t want to do this here. You walked down the hall and let go of their hands just as you let go of the breath you were holding in.

“Callie is the little girl. She was poisoned by her stepmother. That’s why she gave me the apple.” You said in a quiet voice.

“We know. Dr. Garrison told us the whole thing.”

“No, she showed me what happened to her. I touched her arm and I saw it being played out.” You said, sighing.

“Wow, you can do that now?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know Dean. I’ve only had this happen once when Meg was possessing Sam but I thought it was because she is a demon. This is so freaky to me.” You were panicking on the inside.

“It’s okay. This actually might be a good thing to have.” Dean tried to make you feel better.

“Yeah, right, what did you guys find out? Anything new?” You asked, biting your lip.

“Yeah, kind of. Well, it’s a theory. You know fairy tales and I know movies. This is just like what happened in The Sixth Sense. There was a part in the movie where a mom kept her kid sick so that she would get all the attention from her husband. So, say all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?”

“And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out,” Sam said, putting the pieces together. You and the brothers walked into the reception area but you didn’t know where you were going. You needed to tell this to Dr. Garrison.

“Right. Meanwhile, she has to listen to Dad tell her these deranged stories about a rabid wolf or a cannibalistic old lady. It's enough to drive anybody nuts.” Dean pointed out.

“Okay, but how are we gonna stop her, I mean Callie's stuck here, her father's keeping her body alive,” Sam said.

“It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones,” Dean said.

“You think?” Sam said, exasperated.

“We have to tell her dad. Maybe the only reason she’s doing this is because her dad is keeping her body alive?” You said but you were cut off when the doors busted open and EMTs brought in an old woman on a stretcher, yelling out things.

“Okay, what's her status?” Dr. Garrison asked when he walked to the situation.

“Seventy-two-year-old female sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia.” One of the EMT’s reported. They wheeled the woman right past you and the Winchesters. You started following them so you could hear what happened to her. They wheeled her into a room to look at her and take care of her. They left the door open and you watched.

“Is that a bite?” Dr. Garrison asked.

“Looks like she was mauled by a mad dog or, maybe a wolf?” Another EMT said.

“What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?” Dean asked his brother.

“Little Red Riding Hood,” Sam said and you sighed, knowing this was the work of Callie.

“Excuse me,” Sam said, stopping one of the EMTs who walked out of the room. Sam flashed his badge at the EMT and began his questioning. “Was she the only victim?”

“She was found by the side of the road, barely alive. Alone.”

“We need to find her next of kin,” Dean said. The EMT looked through the paperwork he had in his hands for the answer.

“She has a granddaughter.”

“Do you have an address?” Sam asked. The EMT hands Sam a sheet of paper with the address and walked away.

“Okay, you guys go to the address, I’m going to stop Callie. Okay? You’re both stronger than I am so go!” You ordered. They nodded and left you alone. You nodded and turned back around to find Dr. Garrison but he wasn’t with the woman. You walked through the halls to find him and saw him down the hall by Callie’s room.

“Dr. Garrison! I need to speak with you.” You said, catching his attention. He stopped and waited for you to catch up with him.

“Detective. What can I do for you?”

“Well, it’s about Callie.” You said, biting your lip.

“My daughter? What about her?”

“Why don’t we sit and I’ll tell you,” You started to say but he wasn’t having any of it.

“No, what about her?” Dr. Garrison asked, clearly annoyed.

“Okay, well, this isn’t going to be easy to tell you but what happened to Callie wasn’t an accident.”

“Excuse me?” Dr. Garrison scoffed.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

“You have no idea what happened to my daughter.” Dr. Garrison said angrily and turned away from you but you followed him.

“Doctor, there are things you just don’t know about your wife,”

“My wife?” Dr. Garrison looked at you, offended.

“She poisoned Callie.” You told the truth but the doctor was pissed.

“Why would you say something so horrible to me?”

“Because I need your help.”

“You stay away from me and from my daughter, you understand?” Dr. Garrison said, pissed at you. He walked into his daughter’s room and shut the door in your face. You rolled your eyes slightly and opened the door, entering the room while closing the door behind you. Dr. Garrison saw you and tensed up, scoffing.

“I’m calling security.” He reached for the internal phone on the wall but you rushed over to him and placed your hand over his.

“No, listen, I don’t have time to do this gently. If you don’t listen to me, more people are going to get hurt. Callie is going to hurt them.” You tried to get him to understand this.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“You might not believe me but Callie is here. She is still here but she’s a spirit.” You said. Dr. Garrison’s hand fell from the phone and sighed.

“So, you’ve seen her too?” Your mouth opened in shock but you closed it immediately. “I sensed her… Callie. Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never... believed it, I thought I was dreaming.”

“It wasn’t a dream. She looks like she did when she was eight. White dress. Red ribbon in her hair. She's been trying to talk to you.”

“You’re not a cop, are you?” Dr. Garrison asked with a sigh.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then who are you?”

“Someone who knows a little bit about this kind of thing.”

“But what you said about my wife poisoning Callie…”

“Callie told me. She showed me.”

“What?!”

“Not with words, but in her own way. She told me.”

“My wife loved Callie. So how is–how is that possible?”

“I don’t know but it is.”

“No. No I–I don't believe you.”

“Look, Callie is killing people. She’s angry and desperate for you to hear her. No one will listen to her so you have to. Please, listen to what she’s saying.” You said and he nodded, turning to his daughter. He sat down and touched her arm.

“Callie? Callie, it's Daddy,” Suddenly, the spirit of Callie flickered into the room, standing behind her father. “It's me, Daddy. Is it true? Mommy did that to you? I–I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Daddy's here. Please honey, is–is there any way that you can tell me?”

“Doctor…” You said, catching his attention. You pointed behind him and he turned around, seeing his daughter.

“Is it true?” He asked his daughter and she nodded, not saying a word. “Oh, I'm so sorry, baby. But listen to me. You gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go.”

Dr. Garrison sighed and he stood up, tears in his eyes. He knew this was the hardest thing he has ever done. He reached over and pressed a few buttons on Callie’s life support machine and in a few seconds, the monitor buzzed and flatlined. You got tears, knowing you were close to losing your loved one.

This is going to be a tough year.

You had called Sam and Dean to let them know that Callie was taken care of and all was good. They came back to the hospital and you were with them with Dr. Garrison by the nurse’s station.

“And the girl's okay?” Dr. Garrison asked about the woman’s granddaughter. Dean nodded and the doctor sighed. “So, it’s really over?”

“Yeah, all thanks to you.” You said with a small smile.

“Callie was the most important thing in my life. But I should've let her go a long time ago.” The doctor said with a sigh. He patted Sam and Dean on the shoulder before walking away.

“You know what he said? Some good advice.” Dean said suddenly and you looked at him with angry eyes.

“Is that what you want us to do? Just let you go as if you don’t mean the world to me?” Dean didn’t answer you but stare at you before moving to Sam. He turned around and walked away, leaving you alone with Sam. You got tears and you looked up at Sam who had them too.

You and the Winchesters decided it would be best to get some sleep before heading to wherever the hunt would take you next. But you couldn’t sleep. You kept thinking of the look Dean gave you before he left you alone and how angry that made you feel. You knew you shouldn’t do anything stupid but you couldn’t help yourself.

You woke up, noticing Dean has moved away from you and you looked around, not seeing Sam in his bed. You looked over and saw the bathroom light was on and figured he was in there. You better get out before he came out.

You got up and quickly but quickly got dressed, noticing the Colt was nowhere to be found. Dean probably hid it somewhere but you didn’t need it right now. You grabbed what you needed and headed out the door to where you knew it would work.

You got to a crossroads—it took a while—and opened the box you had, placing your photo inside of it before burying it in the ground. You waited for something to happen and when you turned around, you noticed a woman in a black dress with red eyes.

“Wow, Y/N Y/L/N. I remember you when Dean was thinking of replacing his life with Daddy’s. But now, I see he did it anyways,” the crossroad demon said to you. All you did was glare at her. “What can I do for you, Y/N?”

“You know what I want,” You said, your jaw clenching.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to end the contract on Dean’s life.” You demanded of her but you had no weapon so it wasn’t fair.

“And I see you didn’t bring anything to defend yourself with. You can’t make the demands if you don’t hold all the cards.”

“Let him out of his deal!!” You yelled at her.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but Dean is a big boy. He made the deal of his own free will, fair and square. It’s ironclad.”

“Every deal can be broken.”

“Not this one. Y/N, look, I’m just a saleswoman. I got a boss like everybody else. He holds the contracts, not me. He wants Dean’s soul, bad and believe me, he’s not going to let it go. Although…” The demon said, smirking.

“Although what?”

“I know all about you and what you’re meant to be.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your soul, Y/N. Everyone knows who and what it’s meant for and my boss would love to get his hands on it, even more so than Dean’s. I can make you an offer but one of you is still going to Hell.”

“Make an offer? What are you… you want my soul?”

“In exchange for Dean’s. He can get off Scott free but I’m going to need your soul. It’s worth more than Dean’s.” You bit your lip and thought about it. You would be saving Dean, saving him from Hell and that was good enough for you.

“Fine, take it. As long as you leave Dean alone.” You said, scared about this but it needs to be done. You were meant to die, not him.

“Great, I’m assuming you know how this works?” The demon smirked, puckering her lips. You gulped and walked closer to her, ready to kiss and seal the deal. Just as you were getting closer to her, a shot rang off and you jumped, not expecting it to happen. The demon’s skeleton lit up orange and she fell to the ground, dead.

You whipped around to see Sam there, with the Colt, glaring at you.

“Were you really just going to sell your soul for Dean?!” Sam yelled at you.

“LIKE YOU WOULDN’T DO THE SAME! I can’t lose him, Sam, I just can’t. I don’t know what to do anymore.” You let the tears loose and Sam pulled you into his arms. You cried against his chest, feeling defeated. You hated feeling this way but you didn’t know what else to do.

And why was your soul so special?

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @oreosatmidnight @seninjakitey @flyonlittlewinchester @earthtokace @gingersnapped13 @superrandomnatural @my-wayward-heroes @stevetrevorstardis @supernaturallover2002 @teamfreewillsstuff @gucci-daddario @22sarah08 @gh0stgurl

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mamaimpala67 · 6 years

Text

Supernatural Preferences - You Meet Again

Here is something that I haven’t done on here before but I have on my other accounts. Tell me what you guys think about it! How You Met and You Meet Again have both been posted today.

Dean Winchester

You walked to the crime scene, smoothing out your suit top and bottom as you did so. The officer that was guarding the scene held his hand up to you. “Sorry ma’am,” He told you. “You can’t come in.”

You sighed as you dug your FBI I.D - obviously fake - out of an inner pocket in your suit and flashed the badge to him. “Detective Gilligan...FBI.” You told him.

The officer furrowed his brows as he examined the identification that was in front of his eyes. “What would the FBI want with a case like this?” He questioned.

You gave a small shrug as you tucked the badge back into the pocket. “We want to solve as many cases as possible. The more perps we have behind bars the better.” The officer looked you over, from top to bottom, before nodding and lifting the yellow police tape as much as he could. You ducked under the tape, placing your hands in your pockets as you stood up straight again. “May I have a look at the body?”

“Yes detective,” The officer pointed towards the general direction of the deceased. “The coroner is already here and he’s about ready to take the victim back to the morgue.”

“Thank you.” You told him before walking over to the cloth covered body. A man - around sixty in age with a bald head and a blue suit - was standing next to the body, writing on a clipboard in his hand. “Excuse me,” You said, getting his attention. “Are you the coroner?”

“Yes ma’am, I am.” He replied, his voice scratchy.

“Detective.” You corrected him, flashing the badge in your pocket once again before putting it back. “I was wondering if I was able to get a good look at the body?”

“My apologies Detective. Yes, you may.” The coroner gestured towards the dead body.

You gave a small nod as you walked over and squatted next to the frame, taking the cloth that covered it with your fingers and revealing the male victim. You brought the cover all the way down to the man’s torso. You looked over his head - there were signs of trauma from, what seemed like, a blunt weapon - and then down to his chest. It was then you realized that the heart was, indeed, missing. You let out a sigh.

Werewolf.

“What can you tell me about the victim coroner?” You asked, placing the cloth back over the target’s head and standing up, brushing yourself off.

The coroner let out a heavy sigh. “Well, all we can say is that his heart is missing and his name is Robert Blackwell according to what we found in his wallet. We haven’t been able to find or notify any form of next of kin.” He replied, scratching the back of his head.

You looked down at the body again. “Alright.” You replied. “I’ll be in…”

“Well, well, who do we have here?” A deep, male voice spoke.

You stopped speaking, letting a sigh fall from your mouth as you closed your eyes in irritation. It was difficult to not remember that voice. When you turned your head, you saw Dean Winchester, smirk plastered on his face and hands in his pockets. Behind him stood another man - one who you assumed was his brother Sam - who held a confused look on his face as he looked between you and his brother.

You opened your mouth for a split second before shaking your head and turning back to the coroner. “I’ll be in contact with you sir if I get any leads.” You replied with a small smile before turning around, preparing to leave.

Dean and Sam looked at one another before Dean started to follow you. Dean did his best to catch up with you, but your pace was too quick. He stayed a couple of steps behind you. “Hey,” Dean said. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m solving my case and it seems like you’re trying to steal it.” You said, stopping in your tracks and turning around, watching as Dean almost bumped into you but halted immediately before doing so. You raised your eyebrows as you kept a calm stare on the tall man.

“Well, we’re not really stealing here, sweetheart.” Dean said.

“I told you...the name was (Y/N).” You explained.

“Alright (Y/N). We’re not stealing your hunt, but we can help you on it.”

“I don’t work with people.” You said, turning around before walking away.

“Come on.” Dean groaned as he stepped in front of you. “We’re hunters. You’re a hunter. It works out.”

“No.” You said, hooded eyes and an irritated look on your face, doing your best to walk around the Winchester, but you were completely unsuccessful. “Get out of my damn way.”

“(Y/N), why don’t we just work together?” Sam said, coming up from behind you. “We’re here anyway and, as Dean said, we’re not leaving so we might as well stick together.”

You let out a heavy sigh, folded your arms, and rolled your eyes. “If I say yes then will the two of you stop pestering me?” You asked.

“Can’t make any promises sweetheart.” Dean said with a smirk.

“You’re gonna be making promises if you want to work with me dick.” You replied. Dean gave you a confused look at the name that you had given to him. “You wanna use nicknames with me, then I’ll use them right back.” You replied to his bewilderment. “Now, if the two of you will excuse me…”

The brothers lifted their eyebrows up before stepping out of your way. You gladly placed your hands back into your pockets and began walking away. “Um, we’re gonna need your number.” Dean said.

You stopped and let your shoulders fall as far as they could go and let your head fall back. You turned around and glared at them before walking back to them. You turned towards Sam.

“Gimme your phone.” You told him. Sam’s eyebrows went together before he sent a small look towards his brother and dug his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to you. You went into Sam’s contacts and imputed your main phone number into the device. “I don’t want you giving this number to him.” You told Sam, gesturing towards his brother.

“Why not?” Dean glared at you.

“Well sweetheart,” You began, handing Sam his phone back. “ If you remember anything from the bar, then you must remember that you failed at flirting with me and then I kicked your ass the best I could while under the influence. So I don’t want to even look at you but, sadly, I have to. Hopefully, this werewolf kills me before I have to deal with you anymore.”

Dean had a hurt expression on his face as he brought one of his hands up and pressed it against his chest. You rolled your (e/c) eyes before turning around without another word and left. Dean's eyes watched you until you vanished from sight. He then turned to his brother who had an amused smirk on his face.

“So,” Sam began. “It’s a werewolf?”

Dean frowned before he smacked Sam against the arm, earning a chuckle from the young Winchester. “Bitch.” Dean mumbled as he made his way towards the Impala.

“Jerk.” Sam called after him as he soon followed suit.

Sam Winchester

The silence of the library welcomed you as you entered with even strides, book that you had recently checked out swinging in your hand at your side. On your way over to your favorite seat in the adult fiction section of the building, one of the librarians gave you a small wave, which you returned, flashing a white smile her way. The seat that you walked to was near the corner of the room - just a simple soft chair that was surrounded by two couches with the same exact color pattern as the chair. You sat down in the chair, legs up on the piece of furniture to the best of your abilities.

Once you got comfortable, you opened up the book and resumed where your bookmark was placed. You tucked the small piece of paper into the back of the book and began your journey into the world of fiction. As you read, you would shift in your seat every now and then, still not having your eyes leave the page. A very minimal amount of people would pass by you on their search for a good read, but you were too engulfed into the literature to be able to notice. What pulled you from your focus, however, was a hand landing on your shoulder. It was a gentle touch, but it still startled you.

You jolted slightly, gaze moving from the text to the individual who tried to get your attention. It was Sam from the day before. Sam looked down at you with apologetic eyes. “Sorry.” Sam said in a small, whisper. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

A small smile made its way onto your lips as you shook your head. “It's no problem.” You told him, marking your book with the piece of paper in the back cover of the story. “What are you doing here?” You asked, voice spoken in an extremely low whisper.

“I'm still reading up on what I was looking into yesterday.” Sam said with a shrug, gesturing to the book that he held in one of his gigantic hands. Sam took a seat right next to you on the end of one of the couches. “What're you doing here?”

You gestured towards the book in your hand. “Reading the book you helped get yesterday.” You replied.

“That's right.” Sam said as he shook his head, another apologetic look being flashed your way. “I'm sorry. I should let you get back to reading.”

As he was about to stand from the couch, you shook your head. “No, no.” You said. “I could use a rest from the book anyway. I was reading it all last night.”

Sam gave a small smirk and readjusted himself in the spot on the sofa. “You really love reading, don’t you?” Sam asked.

You gave a small nod. “Yeah. I really do.” You told him, looking down as you brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Why are you here today? I mean...did you check out the book?”

Sam shook his head. “No. I don’t have a card here.”

“I can help you get one. It’s actually really simple and free.”

Sam frowned. “I mean...I would...but I’m not going to be here long.”

“Like...in the library?”

Sam shook his head. “In this town. I’m on a trip with my brother and we move around a lot, never staying in the same place.”

“That’s too bad.” You said with a frown of your own, our voice sounding sincerely disappointed.

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked with a cocked brow, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly.

You gave a small shrug, messing with your fingernails and looking down at your hands. “You’re the only interesting-sounding person that I’ve met in this place.” You replied truthfully.

“Well, to be honest with you, you’re also the most interesting-sounding person that I’ve met on this whole trip.” Sam said, flashing a small grin your way. “I never meet any cute women who love to read as much as you do.”

You couldn’t help the blush that formed on your face, turning it a deep, dark shade of red. You gazed into Sam’s hazel eyes for a split second before looking away, smiling widely. “Stop it.” You said, not succeeding when it came to you attempting to keep your tone serious.

Sam’s smile widened, his white teeth showing. “It’s true.” He said.

You were finally able to slowly lift your eyes to Sam’s face, the heat in your cheeks slowly vanishing. You looked down at the book in his hand. “How’s the book?” You questioned.

Sam took a sharp intake of breath, opened his mouth but then closed it before nodding his head, looking at the the title of the book, which you couldn’t clearly see. “It’s good.” He finally said, looking into your eyes. “Interesting.”

“Do you usually like reading books about lore?”

Sam shrugged. “Not really. My main genre is fiction.” He told you.

“Well,” You shifted in your seat to get more comfortable. “What kind of books do you like to read?”

Sam smiled before he took a deep breath and began to speak. The two of you spoke for hours, talking about nothing but books - mostly those in the fiction genre. Your books had soon been forgotten as you both set them aside and mostly focused on one another, smiles never leaving your faces as you did so. You asked him questions and he ask you some too. It seemed as if the conversation could have gone on forever.

All too soon, however, Sam dug his phone out of his pocket. He looked at the screen, which reflected off of his features, and frowned. You furrowed your brows at his expression. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Oh. I have to go.” Sam said.

“Why?”

“My brother texted me. He’s out here.”

“Oh shoot. I’m sorry, you didn’t get any reading done.” Your shoulders slouched, eyes remorseful.

Sam shook his head, the grin reappearing on his thin lips. “You don’t have to be sorry. I got to talk to you.” He replied.

The blush returned on your face. “Stop.” You said with a smile. You held out your hand. “Let me see your phone.”

Sam furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Do you want my phone number?”

“Oh! Yeah.” Sam’s cheeks turned pink as he dug his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. With a smile, you put your number into the phone that was handed to you before handing it back to Sam. Sam looked down at the number, his eyes running over it multiple times. “Thank you.” Sam said. “I’ll...um….I’ll text you.”

You gave a smile. “Yeah, be sure to do that.” You replied.

With a small, timid wave, Sam turned around, book forgotten on the couch, and left. You kept an eye on him until he was out of sight. When he was, you let your tongue run across your lips before you picked up the book and opened it up to the marked page, eyes skimming over the text. Before you could get into the groove of reading, however, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Without taking your eyes off of the words, you dug your phone out of your back pocket and finished the sentence you were on before catching a glance at your phone. A number, one which you hadn’t seen before, texted you. You furrowed your brows as you opened up the text, but smiled after you had read it.

Hey, it’s Sam.

You quickly brought both of your hands up and typed a response to the man before turning back to your book. You weren’t able to concentrate, however, with the constant messaging that you were receiving from Sam. It wasn’t like you were complaining, though. You could have sat there for hours and talked to Sam, completely ignoring your book.

Castiel Novak

Many things happened after you had woken up from your position in the alleyway. For starters, the werewolves had relocated - you had checked when you had gotten your thoughts together - and another person lay victim to the horrible beast. All of this happened while you were recuperating in your motel room, doing nothing but looking over your weapons and sleeping.

And while you slept, all you could think of was that man that had appeared in the alleyway and had saved your life. His face kept popping up in your dreams, only the first time you saw him, his face was a blurred mess. However, each time that you saw that man's face, it kept getting clearer and clearer until you were able to see every single detail that he had on display.

At first, in the dreams, the two of you would be sitting in the park, just sitting, not talking. Neither of you would move your lips or let words fall from them. On the occasion, the man would smile at you and you would smile back. It wasn't until the night before you planned on going to hunt the werewolves, that you eventually found a little ways away from their old hideout, that he actually spoke to you. The two of you were in the same position as you had been; sitting on one park bench while the man sat on the other. You had your hands on your lap and your eyes were attached to the concrete ground when he actually spoke to you.

“Hello (Y/N).” He said, a smile on his face. His voice was deep and scratchy, just as you had faintly remembered from that night he saved you.

You looked up from the ground and stared at him. It took you a minute before you responded to him. “How do you know my name?” You asked.

“I am an Angel of the Lord. I can read your mind.” He said.

You stared at him for a second before you cast your eyes to the ground and began to chuckle. He furrowed his brows. “Yeah right.” You commented. “Angels don’t exist.”

“Then how do you think I healed you the other night? When you had been attacked by that pack of werewolves.”

“I…” You licked your lips and looked up at the sky, not finding an answer in your head. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly.” He said. “Angels are real. Just as real as demons and werewolves.” You sat still for a moment, staring at the ground. The environment around you was filled with that awkward silence that you could cut through with a knife. “Castiel.” The angel finally said.

You perked your ears up and turned towards him. “Beg pardon?” You asked, looking at him with a confusion on your face.

“My name is Castiel. Since I knew yours, you might as well know mine.” Castiel told you.

You continued to look at him with a blank stare before you cocked your head to the side. “I like it.” You commented.

“Like what?”

“Your name.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, looking down at the floor with a small smile on his face. “You have a nice name too (Y/N).”

“Thank you Castiel.” You smiled widely at him.

Castiel’s smile widened as he looked off into the distance. There was a long period of silence before he actually spoke again. “Well,” He said. “It’s almost morning. I feel that it is time for you to wake up.” Castiel looked over at you. “I wish you luck on your werewolf hunt.”

“Wait, how did you…?”

“I’m an angel, remember?”

“Right,” You smiled. “I will see you in my dreams, Castiel.”

Castiel smiled at you and then, with the snap of his fingers, your eyes opened, waking you from your slumber. You flinched at the morning light that shone through the motel curtains. You closed your eyes and turned the other way, groaning. When the sun was out of your vision, you opened up your eyes again. You stared at the chipped white wall.

“Castiel.” You said the name, testing it on your tongue and liking it. You smiled and laid in the bed for a while before you finally decided to get up, mentally preparing for the the hunt that you would complete soon.

John Winchester

The witch laughed as she clenched her hand tighter, causing the pain that was continuously growing in your stomach to become so unbearable that it felt like your stomach was slowly levitating out of your body, ripping through the skin and other organs. You couldn’t help the scream that escaped your throat as you thrashed around on the floor, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes.

The hunt was going so well - you had everything planned out down to the last detail - but you still managed to end up on the floor, preparing to welcome your death. You would have welcomed it easily with how much pain you were in then, but the witch was wanting you to suffer as much as possible, at least it seemed.

“You think you can just barge in here and kill me!?” The witch laughed as she clenched her hand even tighter than before. “Stupid little hunter.” She mumbled under her breath before she began to twist her hand around.

It felt as if your stomach was, indeed, turning around inside of you. You closed your eyes tightly and rolled over to your side, your mouth gaping at the pain. You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find any willpower to do so. It was too much.

“One little flick of my hand.” The witch said with a smirk on her red lips. “And you’ll be…” The witch let out a small, painful gasp and the horrible feeling in your gut vanished.

You let out your own set of pants as you gripped your stomach and moved to your knees, gazing at the witch - you would prefer to call her a ‘bitch’ then. Your red, tear filled eyes widened as you saw a sharp, bloody knife protruding from her gut. The witch looked down at the blade in her stomach before falling to the ground. You stared at her dead body on the floor.

You heard heavy footsteps moving towards you before you could see a hand reach out for you. Your heart lept into your throat as you looked towards the large hand, following the arm that it was connected to before laying your eyes on the individual who had just taken the time to save your life. It was none other than John Winchester, the man whom you had saved only a week before.

You glanced down at his hand before you took it. His hand firmly wrapped around yours and hoisted you up off the ground. “Thanks.” You mumbled.

“It was nothing.” John said, using his shirt to wipe the blood off of the knife.

“How did you get here?” You asked. “I mean, you’re wounds...there is no way that they healed that quickly.”

“They’re not.” John said, shifting uncomfortably. “You said there was a hunt nearby and I thought that, after I recovered - mostly - I would follow you out here and help.”

“Th-thank you.” You said, holding a hand out towards the man. John didn’t hesitate to each his hand up and shake yours. You were able to feel the rough skin that made up his hand as he did so. “(Y/N) (L/N).” You told him, not looking up into his face.

John cocked a brow. “What?” He asked, clearly confused.

“I had only told you my first name the last time we met. I thought that, since you saved my life, you should get to know my last name as well.” You replied.

John gave a small nod. “Alright then. It’s nice to meet you (Y/N)(L/N).” He said.

“It’s nice to meet you too John Winchester.” You replied, bringing your hand back down to your side.

“Maybe we’ll work together in the future.” John told you.

You thought about it before giving a small nod, which was later accompanied by a smile. “Yeah,” You agreed. “Maybe.”

The two of you then, silently, walked out of the house, dead witch forgotten, and got into your own cars, going your separate ways and neither of you looking back.

Crowley

The white wine swirled around in your glass as you moved it in circles. Your eyes stared intently at the liquid as you sat at the table for two alone. What was supposed to be a wonderful date became one horrible idea. You weren’t even able to lay your eyes on the date that you had found online because he never even showed.

Coward.

You downed the alcoholic beverage and slammed the glass down on the plate. Everyone else in the restaurant was either with a group of individuals or with their significant other and there you were, alone at a table in the middle of the place, arms crossed on top of the table and leaning on them. Your head was down and a deep, dark red covering your cheeks with embarrassment.

Before you could lift yourself up from the chair, a deep, accented, familiar voice spoke. “Hello Darling,” The man said. “Bloody fool didn’t even bother to show, huh?”

You glanced up and saw Crowley - it was impossible to forget that name and that face from the bar a while ago - a small smile of his face. Your eyes widened before you looked away from his face and to the white table cloth that covered the dark brown furniture. “How did you…?”

“It’s painfully obvious darling.” Crowley said as he took a seat right in front of you, placing his folded hands on the table.

You brought your arms closer to your body. “Is it really that obvious?” You asked, your voice so small that it was almost nonexistent.

Crowley inhaled sharply and nodded. “Afraid so.” He said. “A wonderfully beautiful woman sitting all alone in the middle of a restaurant easily stands out like a sore thumb.”

A red tinge fell on your cheeks as you brushed a strand of hair out of your face. “You’re sweet.” You told him. “Just like you were at the bar.”

“It’s very impossible not to compliment you, my dear, when you make it so easy.” Crowley winked your way. “May I get you another drink?”

“Oh, you don’t…”

Before you could finish, you saw Crowley snap his fingers at a waiter as he walked by. “A finest glass of the best wine you have, for the lady.” He said.

“Oh, that’s so expensive Crowley.” You said with wide eyes as the waiter nodded and walked away. “I can’t afford that.”

“Who said you were going to be paying for it?” Crowley smirked. “You can get whatever you wish to get. I’ll pay for all of it.”

“You really don’t have to do that.” You giggled.

“I want to darling.” Crowley said.

“(Y/N).” You told him. “(Y/N) (L/N).”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “What a marvelous name.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled under your breath.

As the waiter came back and filled your glass with the most expensive wine they had, you decided to order food and continue conversing with Crowley. While you ate, and he didn’t, the two of you chatted. You smiled. He smirked. You laughed. He chuckled.

By the end of the night, you were nearly exhausted. Your cheeks were getting tired from all the smiling that you had been doing that night and your eyes were halfway closed. You glanced at your phone and saw that it was rather late. You sent a smile towards Crowley.

“I’m terribly sorry,” You told him. “But I need to get going. It’s getting kind of late.”

Crowley checked the silver watch that was on his arm. “So it is darling.” Crowley stood up from his chair and walked over to you. “Why don’t I walk you out to your car?” Crowley asked, holding out his arm to you.

You giggled and accepted, placing your hand through Crowley’s arm and standing up. You leaned your body up against Crowley’s body and Crowley placed a hand on top of your own. The two of you were silent on the walk out to the car. When you got to your car, you got inside and Crowley leaned up against the window that was rolled down, smile on his face.

“It was a nice night Crowley.” You told him.

“I have to agree darling. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

You smiled, reaching into the glove compartment and grabbing a pen out of it. “Give me your wrist.” You said.

“Beg pardon?” He asked.

“Let me see your wrist.” You told him.

Crowley complied and showed you his wrist. You uncapped the pen and began writing your phone number down on it. Crowley gave a smirk as you did so. When you were done, you capped the pen and threw it on the floor. “Now, I would take you home with me and I would let you drive me home, but...maybe on the real first date.” You replied before turning the car on and driving off, sending a wink Crowley’s way before doing so.

Gabriel

You had performed at the same nightclub many times the next two weeks and the people loved you and you loved how generous the people were with their tips. The young manager who had first allowed you to sing at the club had talked to you earlier that week if you wished to have a regular job at the nightclub. Of course, you couldn’t refuse, so, after that little meeting, you were officially employed.

So there you were, sitting at the piano on the stage and playing Chandelier by Sia on the large grand piano and belting out the main chorus as you did so. Some people in the audience were out there dancing while others were just sitting back, enjoying the sound of our wonderful voice.

As soon as the performance was over, you waved towards the crowd as they cheered and walked off the stage so that you could give yourself a small break from the spotlight. You walked over to the bar to get a glass of water. As the bartender was going to retrieve it, a single finger tapped on your shoulder. You turned around and was greeted by the sight of a red rose You looked at it, confused, until you saw the person holding the flower. A smile appeared on your face once you saw that it was Gabriel - the first ‘fan’ that was there to compliment you on your very first performance. You would never forget that face.

“What a fine performance it was.” Gabriel said with a smirk, moving closer to you. “Such perfection. Such grace. Such...wonder.”

“You’re sweet Gabriel.” You said, taking the rose from his hand and sniffing it.

“Only to a wonderful performer like yourself.”

Your smile only widened. “Aw.” A pink tint appeared on your face. “Thanks.”

“Anything for you.” Gabriel said.

You bit your lip, but just as you were about to say something, the young manager tapped on your shoulder. You looked at him and nodded in understanding. “Alright,” You told him before turning back to Gabe. “Let me give you my number.”

Gabriel raised his brows. “Do you give your number to all of you fans?” He smirked, digging his phone out of his pocket and giving it to you.

“Only the extremely handsome ones.” You winked at him, inputting your number.

Gabriel let out a chuckle as you handed him the phone before turning around without a word in order to go back and perform, yet, another song on stage. Gabriel would watch you perform for the rest of the night.

Charlie Bradbury

The rest of the convention was rather enjoyable, filling you with awe and wonder that you would have never figured you would have been able to be filled with. You had boughten some other nik-naks, jewelry, and clothing items that were placed in white, plastic bags that hung at your sides as you walked out of the convention center and to your car, which was placed in a decent distance from the actual building as to best avoid the traffic that other vehicles would have caused.

The walk was peaceful and not that difficult to make. When you got to your car - which was parallel parked alone along the side of the road - you put the bags in the trunk before you got in the driver’s side of the car. You put the keys in the car and turned the car on and your heart dropped when the car didn’t start. Your eyes became heavy and a sigh escaped your lips as your head fell down on the steering wheel.

“Damn battery.” You said, getting out of the car.

You were thinking about popping the hood of the car, but found it useless due to the fact that you had no idea what the hell to even look for. You walked to the back of the car and leaned against the trunk, sighing as you did so. Of course, on the day where you were nowhere near your home, your car decides to finally give out. You brought your phone out of your pocket and searched for a tow truck company nearby. Once you found one, you called them.

A woman picked up the phone. You conversed with her for a couple of minutes, being put on hold more times than not, before she gave you an estimated price for having one of the trucks come out and get your car. And you figured that there was no way in hell that you were going to pay one-hundred-fifty dollars in order to get your car back to your house. You had spent over two to three hundred in the convention center and you were not prepared to fork up another hundred for your damn car.

So you declined the offer and hung up the phone, placing it back into your pocket, crossing your arms over your chest. You sat there, eyes attached to the ground, thinking. After several minutes of nothing being able to run through your head, you heard a car stop right next to you. You furrowed your brows and looked up, seeing a yellow car. In the front seat of the car was the woman - Charlie - from the convention.

“Hey.” She said. “You OK?” She asked.

You shook your head, your cheeks heating up from embarrassment. “Ugh. No, actually no. My car battery died, you wouldn’t happen to have a pair of jumper cables on ya?” You asked, biting your lip.

Charlie inhaled sharply and sighed. “I’m sorry (Y/N).” She told you with a shake of her head. You frowned and your shoulders fell. “But, I know someone who might!” Her voice was filled with excitement, stopping the car and getting out.

“Oh, that’s OK, you don’t have to.” You said.

“Hold on,” She said, getting her phone out of her pocket and making a call. You stayed quiet as she spoke incoherently into the phone. After a while, she hung the phone up and placed it back into her pocket. “Alight, they’re on their way.”

“Who?” You questioned.

She waved towards you. “Just some friends who are practically family.” Charlie said.

You gave a small nod. “Are you sure that they don’t mind?” You asked.

“Oh, they owe me anyway. Anything for a pretty girl.” Charlie said.

“Stop.” You giggled and placed a hand over your mouth, looking away so that she couldn’t see your blushing face.

When you finally looked back Charlie, she sent you a wink, which you giggled at. “Did you get anything at the stands?” Charlie asked. “I saw you with some bags earlier.”

“Yeah, I did.” You opened up the trunk and got the bags out, putting them on top of the closed trunk.

For a while, you showed Charlie all of the materials that you got within the large building and the two of you were talking about them. About ten minutes have past and you were showing her necklaces you bought and your Tardis hat was on her head. A black car pulled up directly behind Charlie’s yellow one and two men stepped out of the car.

“Dean! Sam!” Charlie exclaimed once she saw the men appear. “Thanks for coming.” She walked closer to them.

“No problem Charlie, we were in the neighborhood anyway.” The tallest one commented.

The shorter one didn’t say anything as he walked to the back of the car and grabbed some jumper cables, walking over to you. The shorter man smirked. “Hey sweetheart.” He said your way. You lifted a brow. “Do you mind popping the hood of the car.”

“Dean,” Charlie looked at the short man with a glare. “No.” Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, which caused you to giggle.

You gave a small nod before walking over to the driver’s side of the car, opening the door, and pressing a button to do as you were told. You then closed your door and watched as Dean connected the cables to your car before walking back to his own car, popping the trunk, and doing the same to his.

You got in your car and, when you heard Dean say so, you started up the car, thankful when it actually began to run. You left the car running and got out of the car, moving to the back of the vehicle where everyone else was at. You looked towards the men and thanked then, which they promptly told you that it was no problem whatsoever. Afterwards, they left, saying their ‘see yas’ to Charlie before doing so. Then, it was just the two of you.

“Thank you for calling them Charlie.” You told her with a gracious smile on her face.

She flashed a white smile at you. “It was no big deal!” She exclaimed. Charlie shifted in her spot before waving a small wave your way. “Well, I hope you have a safe trip back.” She told you.

You stopped her. “Wait!” You said and she halted in her tracks, turning back towards you. “Why don’t I give you my number? Maybe we can hang out and...I don’t know...cosplay together?”

“O-Okay.” She stuttered as she brought her phone out of her pocket and give it to you. You put your number into the phone and handed it back to you. “Thanks! I’ll text you later!” Charlie told you with sheer joy before she walked over to her car, got in, and drove off. You watched her leave, waiting until the car had vanished, before you got in your own vehicle and drove the opposite direction.

#Supernatural #SPN #Supernatural Imagines #Dean Winchester #Supernatural Preferences #John Winchester #Sam Winchester #Castiel Novak #Gabriel #Crowley #Charlie Bradbury #Mamaimpala67 #You Meet Again #Part 2

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fanficfreekspn · 4 years

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1-1: Meet Lily (2)

☙❶❧ | ☙❷❧ | ☙❸❧ | ☙❹❧

Later that night, Sam sat at the table of their motel room and did his own research on Redcaps as Dean stared off at the wall. "You know, for everything she did tell us, there's so much she didn't."

"Something tells me this case won't be the last time we'll see Lily. She's a natural-born hunter."

"I just have a nagging feeling in my gut that we're going to end up knowing her dad."

"She doesn't want to know him. Don't push it."

"I think Charlie would like her," he changed the subject. "They'd probably geek out on technology..."

"I think Charlie'd geek out on her," he chuckled.

"Okay, it says here that the word 'faeries' refers to the fae themselves while the word sidhe refers to their homes, kingdoms, residences or specifically the faerie mounds; The afterlife."

"You're looking her up?" he turned and waited.

"It says here that Faeries have numerous powers, being supernatural creatures, but not all Faeries have the same powers, or can wield them with the same strength. The Heroic Faeries have nearly complete control over time and space, whereas the smallest of the rustic Faeries are at the mercy of their human captors. Even so, it can be dangerous to anger even the weakest of Faeries, because one power they all share is the ability to bestow continual good fortune on those who please them or do them favors, and continual bad luck on those who upset them.

"Another power all Faeries share is glamour, the magic of illusion, whereby they can make people see whatever they wish them to see, or not see whatever they do not wish them to see. The aristocrats can create whole kingdoms with this power, whereas the smallest rustics can at least become invisible. Akin to this is the ability to mislead people by hiding or changing the appearance of familiar landmarks, or disguising treacherous ground to make it appear safe. Shape-shifting is also based on this power, and most Faeries have the ability to transform themselves into any form they desire, or to make themselves appear as tiny or as huge as they wish."

"So the way we see her might not be what she looks like at all? No wonder she's kept under the radar for so long," Dean opened his second beer before looking over his brother's shoulder. "Most Faeries also have some control over the weather and the seasons. At the very least, they can cause blight on plants and illness in animals and humans. In fact, Faeries can cause illness, injury, and even death using the "Faerie stroke", a kind of weapon that they can direct at an enemy. Similarly, however, Faeries can also heal injuries and cure the sick when they wish to."

"Among themselves, Faeries adhere to an extremely strict code of conduct that forbids dishonesty and stealing. Only infidelity is generally tolerated, being as Faeries are notorious for being amorous. With regards to humans, however, they seem to believe they are entitled to take whatever they need. Yet Faeries become furious if humans steal from them, and while they delight in playing tricks on people, when the joke is on them they usually do not take it in good humor. As well, even among the good Faeries, their kindness is often capricious, and their goodwill can be embarrassing, even distressing; it is not unusual for Faeries to enrich a friend by stealing from his neighbors. And there is very little mercy mingled with their justice."

"I'm not sure any of this applies to a half-faerie though," Dean sat on the edge of his bed.

"Apparently, Faeries need to invigorate themselves with human blood — i.e., genetic material; Faeries are not vampires — from time to time to keep from losing their powers. Men taken by fairy women are used as lovers, though their use for stud cannot be ruled out," Sam looked up. "It doesn't make sense. Why would her mother use a human man as a stud and then not keep the child? She could have been raised as a fairy and by all accounts be a fairy."

"Like I said... gut is a-churning."

"Ahh. Found it. Perhaps the most unusual interaction between humans and Faeries is the Faerie bride phenomenon. This is when a human man takes a Faerie woman to be his wife. Though a paternalistic concept — virtually the only time a human woman takes a Faerie husband is when he kidnaps her — the marriages seldom end happily: at some point, the Faerie wife leaves and returns to her people, abandoning not only her husband, but any children as well. Even so, the children seldom suffer, unless at the hands of their fathers, because many inherit some of their mothers' power, and often the mothers grant them gifts as well."

"That pretty well sums up what she told us in a nutshell," Dean sighed. "What's that last paragraph? I saw the word 'sex.'"

Sam smirked at his brother. "That humans are kidnapped for recreational sex should not come as a surprise. Faeries are, of course, the patrons of fertility, and sex is intimately coupled to fertility. As such, Faerie amorousness is legendary, and it isn't limited to the Trooping Faeries. Wild Faerie men often try to seduce or lure women into their dwellings, and they will extort human men into surrendering their wives or daughters to them, or blackmail human women into living with them. Others will rape women who spy on them, though most of the time they can mesmerize the women to keep them from resisting. Many wild Faerie women use sex as a form of punishment for infringing on their privacy, and their love-making is so intense few men can survive it, and those who do pine away and die."

"Wow," Dean's mouth dropped open. "I am really feeling the need to peek in on Miss Lily and see what she does in her down time."

"Agreed," Sam slapped his laptop closed.

Lily sat at the bar and stared at the shot of Deanston Highland Single Malt Whiskey and sighed before taking a drink. As she placed the glass on the bar, a smile curled to her lips and two bodies sat on either side of her. "I take it I've piqued your interest?"

"Immensely," Dean looked at her drink before looking up at the bartender. "I'll have what she's having."

She looked up at him. "It's $330 bottle."

"What is it?" Sam nearly choked on his tongue.

"The Deanston distillery in Scotland sits eight miles from historic Stirling on the banks of the River Teith. Every bottle is aged at least 12 years and it's one of the best Scotch whiskies in the world."

"So you stay super-caffeinated in the day and whiskey up at night?" Dean watched her.

She nodded silently before looking up at the bartender. "My treat."

They watched as the bartender slowly poured two more glasses and licked their lips in anticipation.

Dean took a sip before pulling the glass back and looking into it. "That is... so smooth."

"Wow," Sam smiled. "I'll never be able to drink Red Label again."

"You have questions," she turned to Dean. "It's understandable, and probably why I've never told anyone about my past. I'm still struggling to figure out why I did this time."

"Is this," he waved his hand, "what you really look like?"

"No," she answered plainly. "My mother is Neimh of the Golden Hair. My name means 'white lily.' I chose the dark hair of my father to blend in better."

"You're snow white?" Dean's eyes widened.

"No," she laughed. "White also means blessed. I usually don't feel very blessed, though, so I choose to associate with the white."

"Blend in... are you hiding?" Sam asked her.

She frowned as she looked down at her drink. "I am descended from royalty. My mother kept me away from the fae, had me raised as human for a purpose. I'm not sure what that purpose is."

"Have you ever kidnapped for recreational sex?" Dean blurted out as his eyes widened.

"Dean!" Sam scolded him.

"It's fine," she spoke slowly. “No.”

“That is not what I meant to say,” he apologized.

She watched him for a moment. ”Fae or not, when I am amongst kin we cannot lie."

"But I lied to you just fine when I told you my name was Agent Nugent," Dean corrected her.

"I knew it was a lie, and it didn't matter. You knew I wasn't Pat Benatar. We knew the truth," she turned to Sam. "Tell me a lie."

"You are..." he struggled with his words, "really weird."

She burst into laughter as Dean's eyes widened. "Really, Sam?"

"You can't do it," she drank down the rest of her glass.

"So what, we can't lie to one another, you seem to have a huge desire to tell us your life's story, and that makes us relation?"

"It's the only explanation," she threw down $200 and slid off her barstool.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sam grabbed her arm.

"I need to think on this, I'm a little freaked out," her eyes widened as she realized that she had spoken the truth. With that, she turned and walked out.

Dean and Sam turned to their glasses, tipped their heads back, and walked off to follow her.

The two watched her get into a black 1965 Ford Mustang GT and drive off as Dean started the Impala and followed her.

"That is a beauty," Sam gazed over the car.

"The Little Deuce Coupe," Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek. "So what, a cousin?"

"Depends on which side we're related. Dad was an only child, and his dad before him."

"So a Campbell then? Figures, she'd be a cousin from the douchy side of the family."

"Yeah, but she said her dad had dark hair," Sam picked at his fingernails.

"No... Seriously? Again?" he rolled his eyes. "Man!"

"Maybe not, we don't know."

"I knew my gut was churning for a reason, Sam!"

"She looks nothing like Adam..."

"She looks however she wants us to see her," he hissed as he turned a corner. "A sister?"

"As of this minute, the only proof we have is that we're somehow related. Deep breaths, brother. We still have a case..." he stopped talking as they pulled into the parking lot of their motel. They watched as Lily got out of her car and walked up to the door to the left of theirs.

Dean took a deep breath and parked before jumping out and making it to their door.

"Are you kidding me?" she turned around.

"Freaky Friday," he cleared his throat.

"We didn't plan this," Sam held his hands up.

"I know," she whispered. "I don't believe in coincidences either."

"Why don't we all get some sleep and worry about how we're going to track this Redcap in the morning? Work comes first," Dean suggested.

She nodded her agreement. "I'm going to go over my crime scene and evidence photos to see if there's anything that might have attached him to these people."

"We'll check police blotter to see if there's another victim and try to track his route," Sam offered.

"Sounds good," she looked between them. "Although I probably won't get much sleep."

"Try," Dean urged her as they all turned to walk into their rooms.

Chapter 3>

#Supernatural #SPN #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic series #fanficfreek #fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic #sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #lily winchester #the family business

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sofreddie · 7 years

Text

The Winchester Way: Part 1

Summary: The Winchesters, best of the best in the hunting world. Their family have always been the best, as long as time can remember. Other hunters send their kin to the Winchesters for a few years for extensive training. Their methods are unorthodox, but they all know, to be the best...you must endure the worst.

Characters: Sam, Dean, John, OC Allen, OC Melody, Reader

Warnings: Angst, Torture, NSFW, Dark Dean (yes, that’s a warning), Kidnapping, Threatening Behavior, Mild Molestation (of an adult), (Please heed the warnings!!!)

Word Count: 1,828

A/N: So I was told that I was not living up to my full writing potential because I was not tapping into my darker side. Well, here is my dark side in all it’s angsty, threatening glory. Heed the warnings!!! I think I entered all the warnings for this part. Shout out to @sis-tafics. She’s not exactly a beta - and refuses to be called such - but we’ve agreed on “Creative Collaborator” for bouncing around ideas with me, putting up with my insane ramblings at all hours, and ensuring me this doesn’t suck! Love ya Jill! Also, special thanks to @arryn-nyx who suffered so much to make this aesthetic just right!!

The Winchester Way. It’s the way of the hunting world. The champions of history make the rules, all others follow in step like the good little soldiers they are. For centuries, the Winchester bloodline has ruled the hunting world with an iron fist. They know everything, have access to all information, and have so graciously taken it upon themselves to train all other hunters in their ways. Effectively, creating a well-trained army against the forces of the Supernatural world.

The Winchesters maintain a large bunker in the heart of the country. Their facilities are vast, allowing them to take in upwards of twenty trainees at any given time. Some trainees are offered as tribute, continuing the traditions of being trained under the Winchesters that their own families have maintained for decades. Some are obtained, taken with minimal negotiations as the Winchesters see fit, often as payment for their services and interventions.

No one dare complain. The Winchester network is far and wide, their power unrivaled. John and Mary Winchester ruled with great power and some compassion. However, as they grow older, they are looking to retire and withdraw from the hunting world. Their empire thus falling onto the shoulders of their two sons, Dean and Sam. Dean, being the older of the two, has taken on the role of ‘Leader-in-training’. He too ruling as his father before him, but with a significant lack of compassion. He feels compassion only leads to weakness, his reign reflecting the darkness of the world and within himself.

Previously, training regimens consisted of working with the individual, building up their natural talents and making them stronger. But Dean has argued that this only leads to cracks and weaknesses that can be exploited. His beliefs - his new process - is to completely strip and break the soul and spirit of the individual, leaving them blank and ready to be refilled with the skills and knowledge to be the best hunters possible.

John walked the halls of the bunker, on a mission to find his son Dean. He knew Dean loved hands on work with trainees, so he would likely be in the underground dungeons. Generations before, the bunker had been modified to provide an intricate dungeon beneath the main facility. The dungeon was used, not only for training, but for housing some Supernatural beings for questioning, training, and - educational purposes. Dean practically lived in the dungeon, unless he was having his way with a trainee in his quarters.

John opened the door and descended the concrete steps to the dungeon floor, muffled cries and varying screams reaching his ears. Over his lifetime, the sounds became mere background noise, like a ceiling fan whirling in the living room. He made his way through the halls, opening a heavy iron door to a large room.

Dean stood inside, shirtless and in jeans and boots, circling menacingly a crying trainee, tied to a chair.

“Untie yourself.” He demanded, his tone strong and steady.

The whimpering female struggled, blood dripping from her wrists as she continued. She went lax, resting from the struggle. Dean lifted the small blade in his hand and drug it across her collarbone.

She cried out in agony. “I can’t! P-please!” She begged.

Dean scowled. “Begging? I thought I taught you better than that?” He leaned on the arms of the wooden chair, his face inches from hers. “Do you think they’ll relent because you beg them to?!” His eyes burned holes into her. She fought to control her breathing as she struggled with the bindings once more.

Dean drug the blade across her thigh, a deeper cut than before. “You get free and it all stops,” he purred. She struggled against the pain, nearly biting a hole in her cheek to keep herself from crying out and begging once more.

John leaned against the door frame, watching the scene unfold. Melody was a favorite of theirs. She had been with them for six months, offered as a tribute by her family who had all endured the training in their years before her. She struggled in the chair, her blonde locks matted with sweat. Her undergarments - her only protection - were smudged with dirt and stained with blood. With a sickening pop, her thumb dislocated and she managed to break from her bindings, jumping from the chair and leaping at Dean, aiming for the blade. Dean quickly reacted, spinning her back against him, his arms pinning her own, the blade now held to her throat.

“Now was that so hard?” He whispered against her neck, licking a stripe of the sweat and grime from her as he ground his hips against her ass.

John sighed. “Dean, we need to talk.” He announced. Dean looked up, flashing his father a wicked grin, before releasing Melody with a shove. She fell forward, too weak to stand any longer. Dean reached for a chord on the wall and pulled, a soft chime resonating in the chamber. Moments later, two women appeared, lifting Melody from the ground and carrying her away. Dean watched them leave before turning to the wooden table in the room and cleaning his blade and hands.

“New case?” Dean queried, his focus on his work.

“Not exactly. You remember the Y/L/N family?”

Dean turned to his father, his brow creased. “The twins...uh, Allen and Wayne, right?”

John nodded. “They were some of my first round trainees years ago and became excellent hunters. As far as I know, Wayne is still out there, fighting the good fight,” Dean nodded in agreement, “But Allen retired several years ago, once his eldest reached ten. He wanted to be around for them and remove his family from the hunting life.”

Dean clenched his jaw in frustration. There was an order to things. Hunting families only retired or got out if their children were of age to take over responsibilities for the family. A hunter leaving the life and sheltering his family from it was against their rules, against the Winchester Way. It wouldn’t be tolerated.

“His eldest, Y/N, just turned eighteen. She should be undergoing training. I called Al and spoke to him, but he refused.”

Dean nodded his understanding, pursing his lips. It was time to claim a tribute. He gathered his items, prepared to head for his room and pack a bag for travel.

John stopped him, grabbing him by the arm before he could leave. “She knows nothing about the hunting world or what we do. She has no idea what this is all about.” He paused and smirked. “And I’ve been told she’s one of the best looking women around, pure as the driven snow.” Dean’s grin grew to match that of his father’s as he nodded his acknowledgement with renewed excitement and interest. It was about time for a new personal toy.

A Fine Tribute

Dean parked the Impala in the driveway of a quaint house in a nondescript suburban neighborhood. It was shortly after dinner time, the sunlight waning in the distance. Dean checked his pistol and ammunition, before tucking it into the holster on his thigh.

“Alright, Sammy,” Dean began, turning to face his brother in the passenger seat. “We’re here to claim Y/N Y/L/N and her father Allen Y/L/N. Dad requested he be brought before them to prove his continued fealty after what happened.”

Sam smirked, pulling slightly at the corners of his mouth. He knew well of the punishments for violating Winchester laws and looked forward to the entertainment.

“Alright, you know the drill. Let’s keep it as quiet as possible. Hopefully the old bastard doesn’t put up much of a fight.” Sam nodded in agreement as they climbed from the car. Approaching the front porch, Dean knocked on the door, hearing shuffling within. The door opened to reveal an aging male in his fifties, salt-and-pepper hair and beard filling out his thinning face.

Dean smiled a toothy grin. “Mr. Y/L/N!” He proclaimed happily as he forced himself into the home, Sam shutting the door behind them both.

“D-Dean?” The man stuttered, clearly flustered. “Please don’t do this.” He whispered, pleading.

Dean slapped an arm on the man’s shoulders, holding him tight as he walked them further into the house and forced the man to sit in a wing back chair in the living room.

“Now, Allen,” Dean began, clicking his tongue as he licked his teeth. “You know better.” He stood before Allen, wagging his finger like a scolding parent. After a pregnant pause, Dean continued. “Where’s the lovely Y/N?” Allen appeared about to protest when a gentle voice rang from the bottom of the stairs.

“Dad? Is everything ok?” The young girl stood, fidgeting with her hands, her brow creased with worry. Dean’s breath caught in his throat for a moment. His father hadn’t lied, she was stunning. Her Y/H/L Y/H/C hair fell about her heart-shaped face. Her Y/E/C doe-eyes were wide and bright. Her purity flowed from her in waves, nearly knocking Dean over with the overwhelming urge to devour her.

“Everything’s okay, Sweetheart. Go back upstairs.” Allen cooed at his daughter, trying to offer a gentle smile. She looked between the large men in the living room, hesitant, before turning towards the steps. Dean met her in two quick strides, gently grabbing her by the arm and turning her towards him.

“Are you Y/N?” He whispered to her, his voice smooth as water as he turned up his charms. She nodded, looking down at her hands. Dean smiled as he lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “You are lovely.” He breathed, emphasizing each syllable with precision.

“P-please, don’t take her from me. She’s not fit for this, she doesn’t know anything about it!” Allen pleaded, attempting to rise from his seat before Sam forcefully pushed him back down into the chair.

“You know the rules, Old Man.” Dean spat, his eyes never leaving Y/N. “Come on, Sweetheart.” Dean urged, dragging her gently towards the door.

“B-but…” She started to protest, Dean silencing her with a hush and a finger to his lips.

“Sammy, grab Allen.” He turned to see his brother yanking Allen from the chair and forcing him towards the door, nodding his approval. Allen continued to fight, pushing Sam from him and lunging towards Dean. Without a flinch, Dean drew his pistol and aimed it directly at Allen’s head, his stare cold and steady. Allen froze, his eyes on the barrel mere inches from his face. Sam stood and grabbed Allen with more force, his own anger radiating off of him. The brothers placed Y/N and Allen in the backseat of the Impala before driving off towards the bunker. Allen held his daughter close to him as he whispered continued apologies. Y/N’s concern grew as, for the first time in her life, she watched her father shake and shed tears.

[Part 2]

TAGS (Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed):

@sis-tafics @cas-is-my-hero @jellersquad @lunarsaturn88 @dean-loves-the-trenchcoat-angel @friedcrusadezombie @allieyolo123 @rhapsody-in-flannel @superlock-on-pc @goldenolaf25 @alyssa6marie @allethalove @fonduegames @end-lessnights @michellethetvaddict @firefoxkairan @superlock-on-pc @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @sea040561 @arryn-nyx

#the winchester way #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #spn #spn fanfic

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years

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6x17: My Heart Will Go On

Then:

You never really die on Supernatural

Now:

Chester, Pennsylvania

In a Rube Goldberg-esque bit of murder mastery, a man fumbles his way around his garage, nearly dying several times, only to finally get taken out by his falling garage door. What a ride.

They get in their trusty Mustang, and hit the road.

...

Bobby keeps drinking until Ellen (!) shows up.

…

She consoles him about Rufus and tells him to get ready for dinner.

And she’s his wife.

…

At the garage of horror, Sam finds a thread of gold.

Dean tries sussing out any past family curse --poorly. Shawn wants Dean to go, so Dean just comes out and tells him, “Your life is in danger.” Shawn thinks Dean’s threatening him.

He connects with Sam who can’t find a single thing wrong with the family.

The blonde woman comes back and marks a name off in a book, and drops a gold thread.

…

During their research, Sam notes that the ship almost hit an iceberg, but the First Mate, I.P. Freely saw it in time.

Balthazar!

They summon Balthazar for answers about the boat. “It was meant to sink, and I saved it.” He hated the movie. (Boris is still one of the few and proud that’s never seen it --I cheered SO hard for Balthazar here.) He hated the Celine Dion song. Sam doesn’t even know who that is (HIS FAVORITE SINGER!) Sam points out that he thought that history can’t be changed. Balthazar points out that there’s no more rules. Anyway, only minor details have been changed --like no Impala.

More importantly, Ellen and Jo are alive. They are supposed to be dead.

The boys lurk in their iconic, uh, Mustang to follow Russo.

They follow Russo in an attempt to keep him safe from Fate’s machinations. They manage to save him from one deadly accident, only for the guy to die under the wheels of a bus seconds later. Sam notices a woman watching over the accident. She looked kind of like a librarian. “Your kind of librarian or my kind of librarian?” Dean asks. Oh, Dean, why does it have to be a binary choice? Eyebrow waggle. Dean decides to head over and confront Fate in a shadowy building.

Fate, meanwhile, is up to nefarious deeds. She turns burner knobs, releasing gas into the building as time stops around the Winchesters. When time starts up again, Dean’s flashlight flickers out in the dark. Sam suggests using a lighter and....

Just as the room starts to ignite, the Winchesters get yanked out of there! Cas saved them! He’s pulled them to Belarus. I will never not be able to watch this scene without thinking of the gag reel and Misha stag leaping around the woods.

“[Fate] harbors a certain degree of rage towards you,” Castiel explains. Since the Winchesters foiled their apocalyptic fate, they’ve made it into Fate’s bad books. Cas suggests the best solution is for the Winchesters to kill fate. And they can use themselves as bait!

For CAAAAAAAS! Science:

After that solemn, emotional scene, we cut to Dean and Sam experiencing wacky near-misses. A skateboarder almost takes them out. Then a jumping BMX rider. Now a pair of aggressive dogs on leashes. (Extreme close of up Dean for extra sad jokes.)

They walk past a pair of jugglers tossing HATCHETS and KNIVES who proceed to LIGHT THEM ON FIRE - and I do love it when this show gets ridiculous. After several near-misses, a falling air conditioner finally plummets towards them. This looks like the end for our heroes!

For Looney Tunes Quality Science:

Time freezes the Winchesters under the air conditioner, and Castiel approaches. He greets Atropos, the Fate who’s after the Winchesters. She complains about the fallout of the recently averted apocalypse.

Cas tries to argue for freedom. It’s a bold new world! But Atropos isn’t buying what he’s selling. The last straw for her was the unsinking of the Titanic. Cas tries to shift the blame to Balthazar, but Atropos calls him on that too. That wasn’t Balthazar following a whim. Cas needed more souls for his war machine, and sent Balthazar back to unsink the ship. She’ll make Cas a bargain: if the boat stays unsunk, then she’ll kill his “two favorite pets.” She may not be strong enough to escape Cas’s retribution, but her sisters will take the Winchesters down after she dies. Cas contemplates Sam and Dean.

Balthazar shows up, ready to kill Atropos, when Cas stops him. Cas is ready to take the deal. Balthazar gets Cas’s new order: it’s time to save Sam and Dean! I mean, it’s time to sink the Titanic.

Sam and Dean wake up to Sam’s favorite singer belting “My heart will go on” on the radio. They talk about their weird, shared dream. Cas flaps in to greet them. He tells them that he had Balthazar re-sink the ship to ensure Sam and Dean’s safety.

Dean asks if that whole alternate timeline was erased when the boat sank again. “More or less,” Cas says. EYEBALLS EMOJI. Cas wants the Winchesters to remember the alternate timeline. “You can make your own destiny. You don’t have to be ruled by fate. I still believe that’s something worth fighting for,” Cas tells them. Can I get a HELL YEAH?

It is Your Quotedany:

Accidents don't just happen accidentally

"What's an Impala?" Trust me, it's not important

You have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trenchcoat who's in love with you

Can’t avoid fate

Who do we gotta kill to get killed around here?

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#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 6x17 #my heart will go on #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #ellen harvelle #castiel #cas #balthazar #supernatural season 6

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hannahindie · 7 years

Text

Not What She Seems-Chapter 7: The One Where Sebastian Is Tempted

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or any of the characters. Sebastian and Ava are mine though, so yay for that! I wish I owned all of them though. This fic has violence and abuse/assault and sexual situations, so please proceed with caution. I hope that this chapter makes sense…I’m kind of taking liberties with the properties of demon blood and werewolves…and vetalas. The italicized section is Ava jumping from one memory to another, so I tried to space them out in such a way you could tell where one ended and the next starts. Let me know if it doesn't work and I'll update it! I really hope you all enjoy it.

Chapter Description: Sam and Dean find out something surprising about Ava’s past, and are left to decide what to do when they find her. Ava begins to remember, and Sebastian loses his patience.

Dean x OC Sam x OC (friendship)

When Sam came back into the room, Dean walked out in only a towel and sat on the bed.

“Well?”

“Garth said he was going to have to research and call back, but he said he would go ahead and come this way just in case. But check this out.” Sam pulled up his email and opened an attachment from Garth. A birth certificate popped up. “He found her birth certificate. Ava Rosalyn Walker, born October 13, 1985 to Franklin Lee Walker and Lillian Rose Walker. Frank and Lilly had had another child, Jacob, three years before Ava but he died when Ava was only five.“

"Was it a natural death?” Sam shook his head.

“It was recorded as a wild animal attack, specifically a bear. They were camping when he was snatched. The rest of the family managed to get away but when they found the kid it was too late. Garth was able to get a coroner’s report, and it looks like it was probably a wendigo. According to the police report, Ava had said that her brother had gone to the bathroom, and she saw a monster take her brother. When asked what it looked like, she drew this.” Sam clicked on another attachment. Dean was impressed. The drawing looked remarkably like a wendigo.

“A five year old drew that? Kid’s got talent.”

“Yea, well, the police chalked it up to her being in shock and they went on the hunt for the supposed bear that did it. Someone shot one, the reward was claimed, and the case was closed. They were lucky, if it was a wendigo, they should have all been taken.” Dean got up and dug through his bag for some clothes.

“Don’t tell me, the parents didn’t believe the police?”

“Bingo. Garth didn’t find anything about them going after that wendigo, but things started changing. Ava was removed from her school and they moved constantly. Garth was able to find a few hunters that remembered them. They were good at the job, that’s for sure. The mom had been a history and science teacher and the dad had built machinery for various factories and businesses. They were really good at research and even better at finishing jobs. It looks like, for awhile anyway, they were the go-tos for hunter stuff.”

“I wonder if Bobby or Ellen knew them?” Sam shrugged.

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t. Hell, Dad probably did. The man burned a lot of bridges, but he still knew a lot of people.” Dean disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

"What happened to them?” he yelled through the door.

“When Ava was ten, her parents were found dead in a hotel room, their throats ripped open and their hearts missing. Ava had been locked in the bathroom and when police arrived, they found her sleeping in the bathtub. Their deaths were ruled as a homicide and police concluded that they were ‘ritual’ killings because the missing hearts. The suspects were never caught. According to Garth’s source, it was a werewolf job gone wrong. And that’s where things get…weird.” Dean came out of the bathroom as he yanked his shirt on.

“What’s weird about it?”

“Ava just sort of disappears. Since there was no next of kin listed, she should have gone straight to protective custody and then placed in a home. There’s a six month gap between their deaths and when she shows up in foster care. And, despite the other trouble she had there, never mentioned her brother or her parents deaths. She doesn’t even act like she ever had a family. She never mentions them moving around a lot or that they were hunters. They took her everywhere, you’d think she would have at least mentioned something to someone in passing, she was young and wouldn’t have as much self control. That’s a big secret to keep to yourself when you’re only ten. It’s like…it’s like she didn’t remember.”

“We kept secrets like that when we were ten. Why wouldn’t she be able to remember, though? It’s not like you can just wipe away someone’s…"he trailed off. He and Sam both knew better, and they knew the cost of building up and tearing down those walls. "You think she can’t remember any of it?” Sam shut his laptop.

“I don’t know…she either doesn’t remember, she was pretty young after all, or she’s better at shoving her feelings down than we are.” Dean chuckled.

“She’d have to be a pretty good actress then. So, what’s the plan?”

“Garth is going to see if he can find anything out about this alpha. I feel like it’s going to essentially be the same as a normal vetala, just stronger, but it doesn’t hurt to check. We need to get the blueprints for that building and I think we should check it out tonight before we go in. Garth will meet up with us tomorrow, be on standby.” Dean nodded.

"And what about Ava? If she makes it through this…what do we do?” Sam frowned.

“I don’t know. I guess we will have to wait and see. We don’t know what, if anything, she knows or remembers. Who knows how she’ll react to it. I think the main thing is to get her out of there alive and then go from there.” Sam sighed. “She’s going to need somewhere to go, someone to take care of her. Are we the right people for that?” Dean shrugged.

“Like you said, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s see about getting the blueprints and let Garth in on the game plan.” The brothers left their room and settled into the Impala. As he started the car, Dean looked at Sam. “Do you think we’ll make it in time, Sammy?” Sam saw his brother’s worried expression, heard the rare hint of dread in his voice, but he knew he couldn’t lie.

“I don’t know, man. I really don’t know.”

Sebastian sat in front of Ava and watched her. The second injection he had given her proved to be a little much for her and she had finally passed out, although she appeared to physically be okay. As he watched her, her eyes rolling and jerkily moving under her closed lids, he wondered what was going on in her mind. He had learned quite a lot about her when he’d worked with Ben. Although his original intent hadn’t been to involve Ben at all except for his various 'business’ endeavors, he had quickly gotten Ben to trust him and learned more about his girlfriend. Of course Sebastian, upon finding out her name, had immediately been drawn to her and so the quest to see if she’d be 'the one’ had begun. He smiled as he thought back to making her tell him everything; of course, he’d already known. What he couldn’t find out online, he’d forced Ben to tell him. He had learned about her past, the various foster homes she’d been forced into, the abuse she’d been put through. He felt badly, at least as much as someone like him could feel, about putting her through that abuse again, but she was tough. It was a necessary evil to get what he wanted.

He crossed his arms as he looked at her and felt a familiar warmth in his gut as he took in her naked curves. Even strung up like she was, bloody and bruised, she was beautiful. She hadn’t been like the others. They had all been conventionally beautiful, fragile even, the kind you’d want hanging off your arm like a trophy, people you’d see in magazines and movies. That’s where he’d made his mistake. He hadn’t researched them enough, just grabbed them when he saw one he liked. The last two had been different. He had researched while he still had the previous girl and had held off on giving them the injections. He wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like he cared what happened to them really, but he had delayed doing it.

Part of him thought it was because he didn’t want to fail again; he had been alive a long time so it shouldn’t have even mattered, but you don’t live that long by being careless. He’d also realized that if they couldn’t take the demon blood, it would burn them up from the inside. He thought if he’d been a lesser demon it may have been okay, but alphas were stronger in every sense of the word and so he had fully expected it to end badly…and it had. The last two attempts had gone far smoother, he’d even moved on to the second step of his plan, but in the end it had still been too much for them. Ben had mentioned Ava to him when the second to last girl…what had her name been? He shook his head as if to dismiss the thought…had finally broken beyond what even the demon blood could repair. He had already picked out the next girl, a pretty redhead with a military background, but figured if that didn’t pan out, maybe this Ava would. The redhead had been working out splendidly, the best yet, but she had talked back once too many times and his temper had snapped, along with her body when he had sliced her throat so violently he’d broken her neck in the process.

He remembered seeing Ava for the first time in person, shortly after he’d dumped Red’s body in the park. He’d been milling around the square, debating on whether he should just take someone else or find a way to get to Ava, when he saw her. He’d forgotten Ben had told him she worked at the bookstore. He had sat quietly and watched as she pulled a cart of used books outside and set up a sign. She was shorter than he normally liked and had a little more weight to her than the other girls had. Where they had been tall and sharp, their hips and collarbones accentuated by their tan flesh, she was rounded and soft, curved where they had been more straight, her skin pale but freckled. Her dark blonde hair had been pulled back in a messy pony tail, and it shimmered in the sunlight, bits of copper and strawberry flashing here and there. Someone had passed her as they went into the store and she had smiled widely, a genuine smile, as she laughed at something they had said. And just as quickly as she had appeared, she disappeared back into the cool, dim store. Sebastian felt himself stir at the thought of that first moment and wondered how much it would hurt if he moved on to step two a little sooner than he’d planned. For once, he didn’t want to destroy her like the many others. Her talking back and fighting excited him, even when he did lose his temper. He wanted to her to love him, for her to want to have his child. The thought surprised him. Love was mostly a foreign concept to him. He had loved his vetala family, had loved his mother. At least, he thought he did. They’d been his family, but that was different and they were gone anyway. He growled quietly to himself. It was this damn body. The man may have been long dead, but his memories and feelings still lingered like a poison. Love. All he truly wanted was to build his family back up, better and stronger than before, so that not even the most talented and learned hunters could take them away again. Not even the Winchesters.

He stood and slowly strolled close to Ava. But, until that moment, here she was, gentle curves and soft edges and it made him hungry. It made a fire pull at his belly and his pants tighten against the throbbing ache he felt at the thought of what he was soon going to do. He slowly reached out and drug his fingertips across her skin, pausing to feel the weight of her breast and the pebbly feel of her nipple as he grazed it. He leaned in close, his lips barely touching her neck, as he took in her scent and sighed. She was captivating, and he wanted nothing more than to bite into that skin and truly taste her, feel the blood warm against his tongue. He tried to remember that she was just a vessel, a means to grow and protect his child. His hand ran down her side, past her hip, and rested gently above her blonde curls. He was tempted to explore her, to taste her, as his fingers slipped through the dense, soft hair surrounding her entrance. He felt a pang of guilt, no doubt some subconscious memory of a rule known by his body’s former owner and paused. Ignoring that brief moment of morality, he also didn’t want to miss the expression on her face when he did it. He was still debating on what to do when she moaned, her body twitching and pulling as if she was trying to run away from something. He pulled back and looked at her with mild curiosity.

“What is going on in that pretty little head of yours, Ava?”

**The tent was dark when Ava woke, startled by the sudden noise. She must have made a sound because she suddenly felt a hand on her small shoulder as if to calm her.

“It’s okay, Ava, it’s just me. I have to use the bathroom.” Her eyes gradually adjusted and she saw her brother crouched next to her.

“But we’re supposed to stay in the tent.” Her brother sighed.

“Yea, I know, but I gotta go. I don’t want to go all over where we have to walk, it’s gross.”

“But momma said,” Ava whispered, “you stay in here or get Daddy.”

“Squish, I know what she said, but it’s stupid for me to wake dad up just so I can go pee.” Ava looked at him with wide eyes and he sighed again. “I’m just going over behind those trees,” he pointed directly behind her,“ and then I’ll be right back.I’ll only be gone two minutes. Can you be brave for two minutes?” Ava nodded slowly. Her brother never lied to her. He smiled.

“That’s my squish.” He unzipped the tent and was halfway out when he felt Ava’s tiny hand on his arm. He looked back at her.

“I love you, bubby.” He smiled again.

“Love you too. Now lemme go before I pee my pants.” He gently pulled himself out of her grasp and zipped the tent shut behind him. Ava sat bolt upright and listened to her brother’s footsteps as they got further away. She was lucky; her brother was never mean to her, and if she annoyed him, he never let it show. He never lied to her either, so when he said two minutes, she believed it. She didn’t really know how long two minutes was, but she knew it was short and after sitting there for what seemed like forever, she began to worry. Momma had said to stay in the tent. She heard a rustle and sighed in relief.

“Jacob?” she whispered. When he didn’t answer, she whispered again, “Jacob?” Suddenly, a huge black shadow fell over the tent, followed by a blood curdling scream, and then silence. She sat, frozen, the shadow she saw burned into her memory. She heard her parents scrambling to get out of their tent and her mom’s scream as she caught sight of blood spatter across the tent.

“Ava! Jacob!” Her tent was roughly unzipped and her dad pushed his way in, fear written across his face. “Ava, where’s your brother?” Tears welled up in her eyes.

“He…he had to…use…the bathroom.” Her dad grabbed her.

“He left the tent?” Ava nodded.

“I told…him to ask…you…” she said between hitching sobs. Her dad picked her up and cradled her to him.

“Its okay, sweetheart, it’s not your fault-” He was interrupted by another scream, followed by brush snapping. “Okay, Ava bug, we gotta get out of here. Can you hold real tight to Daddy, sweetheart?”

“Yes…” Her answer was tiny and frightened.

“Of course you can, brave girl. Come on.” They left the tent to find her mom scouring the site for her other child. “Lilly,, we have to go.” She swung around to look at him, her eyes wild.

“We can’t leave Jacob, Frank. I will not leave him alone, what if he’s hurt? I know he is, look…” Her gaze landed on the side of the tent closest to her and Frank pulled Ava tight against his shoulder so she couldn’t see.

“Lilly, we cannot stay here. I will come back, I will find him, but we have got to get Ava out of here and we have to find help, we can’t find him if something happens to us too. We have got to go.” Lilly stared at Frank, panic and uncertainty on her face, but finally nodded. “Get to the car. Keep an eye out for Jacob in case he’s managed to circle back around. It’s only a few minutes to the ranger station by car, it won’t take long to get help and come back.” They ran to the car, Ava clinging to her father as they sprinted across the field and to the trail leading to the car. Ava heard twigs snapping, could feel her dad’s heart beating too fast, could hear her mom’s muffled cries as they finally reached the car. Ava was shoved roughly into Lilly’s arms. Lilly clung tightly to her daughter as her husband jumped into the car and slammed it into drive.

“Momma, what about Jacob?” Lilly smoothed Ava’s hair.

“We’ll come back for him, baby, but we have to keep you safe. Did you see anything?” She nodded but then fear overwhelmed her and she started crying. “Honey, it’s okay, it’s okay. We will find him. He probably ran off to hide, sweetie, remember how good he is at hide and seek?” Ava nodded.

“He promised he’d come back, momma. He promised.”

“I know, squish. Bubby keeps his promises, doesn’t he? He’ll be back.” She pulled Ava tighter to her chest. “Frank, can you-” She was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of the car.

“Shit!” Frank managed to keep the car on the road as it fishtailed, and floored it once he’d straightened it up. “Hang on!” He jerked the wheel to the right to take the road to the ranger station, and whatever had been on top of the car disappeared. He quickly pulled into the lot. “Stay here!”**

**“Stay here.” Ava crossed her arms and stared down her father.

“Dad, I can help! I’ve been reading all about werewolves, I can help you!”

“Absolutely not, Ava Rosalyn. There’s a difference between reading about it and actually doing it. You’re too young. You will stay here, keep the door locked, and stay quiet.”

“Mom!”

“Your father’s right, you need to stay here.” She sat a bag on the table, then patted Ava’s shoulder. “That should be enough for dinner. We shouldn’t be gone long.” She kissed Ava’s forehead. Ava sighed, frustrated, but resigned.

“Be careful, momma.” Lilly smiled.

“We always are, baby.” Frank knelt down in front of her.

“If anything happens, you remember who to call?”

“Yea, Dad. Pastor Jim or Bobby.”

“Good girl.” He hugged her tightly. “We’ll be back soon.” Ava watched glumly as the door shut behind her parents.**

The hotel room door flung open and Ava jumped. Her dad slammed it shut behind him. Lilly grabbed Ava roughly off the bed and drug her into the bathroom.

“But momma, I was watching-”

“Hush, Ava.” She picked her up, something that she hadn’t done in a long time. Ava quieted down and took a better look at her mom as Lilly gently put her on the edge of the bathtub. A claw mark crossed her face, fresh blood streaming down her neck and onto the collar of her shirt. She was covered in dirt, and Ava could see fresh bruises blossoming on her arms.

“What happened, mom?” Her mother remained silent but hugged her tight. Ava hugged her back. Since her brother had died, she couldn’t remember her mom showing as much as affection as she was right now, and she didn’t want it to stop.

“Listen to me, baby. You need to stay in here, and keep this shower door shut and the bathroom door locked. Do not come out, no matter what you hear. Do you understand me?”

“Is something coming-”

“Do you understand?” Lilly repeated urgently. Ava nodded. “Tell me what I said.”

“Stay in here and keep the bathroom door locked and the shower door closed, no matter what I hear.” Lilly smiled as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“That’s my girl.” Ava looked over her mother’s shoulder and saw her father rip a comforter and pillow off the bed. He hurried into the bathroom.

“Cover up with this. When we leave this room, you make sure that door is locked and you get right into that tub.”

"Daddy, what’s going on?” He smiled and brushed her hair away from her face.

“It’s just a really big job, squish. Some of the werewolves got away, and me and your momma have to take care of them so that everyone is safe.” He sat the small bag he’d carried in with him on Ava’s lap. “If something happens, who do you tell them to call?”

“Pastor Jim or Bobby.”

“You remember where to get their information?” Ava patted the bag.

“In the small inside pocket.” Frank pulled Ava close and kissed the top of her head.

“That’s my Ava. You’re a brave, smart girl. We love you so much, sweetheart. Now you make sure this door is locked, and you stay low.” He looked at her one last time, then pulled Lilly away and shut the door. Ava, just like any other time her father told her to do something, immediately made sure that the door was locked, then climbed into the tub and shut the door. She pulled the bag close to her, then laid down and completely covered herself with the comforter. No sooner than she settled in, she heard thumps and snarls coming from the main room. She curled herself around her backpack. A scream cut through the air and Ava pulled the pillow over her head.

“Stay here…stay here…stay here…” **

“No!” Ava cried out, pulling at her restraints. The sudden movement should have startled Sebastian, who was still standing against her with his hands now resting on both hips. She opened her eyes to see Sebastian staring at her. He smiled slowly.

“What did you see?” She looked at him, confused.

“What do you mean? I didn’t…it was a nightmare…” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I think it was more than that, sweetheart.” He ran his hand up her side and she grimaced. “Demon blood tends to bring out the worst, the most hidden. Are you sure it was just a nightmare?”

“No worse than being here.” Ava spat. Sebastian stared at her, emotionless, then reached behind her and slowly pulled the chain. Ava bit her lip to keep from crying out as her feet once again dangled just above the floor.

“Is that so?” He pulled a knife from his pocket, unfolded it, then slowly pulled it against Ava’s right forearm, leaving a deep gash. She gasped but managed to keep from yelling, so he did it again down her other forearm. “My patience is beginning to run very thin, Ava.” Blood dripped from the knife and down his wrist. He glanced down at it, and his eyes flashed blue. “I really liked this shirt. Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of clothing?” He put the point of the knife into her shoulder. “It’s a lot of work. But at this point, what’s a little more?” Sebastian slammed the knife into her in one swift motion. Ava opened her mouth to scream but the only sound that came out was a strangled gasp. Sebastian let go of the knife, and it stayed where it was, sticking out of Ava’s shoulder almost comically. He laughed and Ava looked at him, tears pouring down her face. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.” He picked a syringe off the cart. “I’m going to give you another chance…I just can’t help myself. I like you, and I’d hate to be too harsh with you just because you are a little fiery.” He slid the needle into her neck and she closed her eyes, bracing herself for the moment her veins felt like fire. He slowly pushed the dark liquid into her and, as the first flames licked at her veins and muscles, she began to scream.

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