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catsconflictscopicsandchamomile · 2 years

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ok yknow what? The Winchesters panel is tomorrow, the PILOT is NEXT WEEK, I don’t want to wait til november/til i can format this to work with ao3. Here yall go. Sorry for the long post, I fixed the entire finale.

Sam and Dean Winchester are not human beings. It’s hard to say if they ever were, but they definitely aren’t anymore. This may sound strange, but hear me out: many sources agree that descendants of Cain are not human, by definition. Even aside from that, if a person repeatedly dies and more or less physically fights their way out of every variety of Christian afterlife, it would be a considerable stretch of logic to still consider them a fully human being. Unfortunately for anyone trying to figure out exactly what Sam and Dean are, the only instance of a confirmed Descendant Of Cain is Grendel, from Beowulf. (source: Beowulf, translation by Seamus Heaney, lines 100-110)

“Grendel was the name of this grim demon Haunting the marches, marauding round the heath And the desolate fens; he had dwelt for a time In misery among the banished monsters, Cain’s clan, whom the creator had outlawed And condemned as outcasts. For the killing of Abel The Eternal Lord had exacted a price: Cain got no good from committing that murder Because the Almighty made him anathema, And out of the curse of his exile there sprang Ogres and elves and evil phantoms And the giants too who strove with God Time and again until He gave them their final reward.”

In terms of appearance, Grendel is never described in the text. He has been referred to as an archetype, a monster, an evil or corrupted human, a demon, or a forest spirit. In Beowulf, Grendel was immune to iron weapons ( Beowulf lines 986-989) but the only other widely accepted canon source on the subject, the book “Grendel” by John Gardner, puts forward the idea that that specific power comes from the outside source of The Dragon (Gardner, 75).

When Grendel was killed, his mother (also a monster of some sort) came back the next night for revenge/further murdering. While this is not a 1:1 comparison, it seems a fair guess to say that these creatures (I will be referring to them as Grendels from here onward) usually come in pairs and have strong familial loyalty. In Supernatural, the dynamic is a bit reversed: while they are siblings, Dean did essentially raise Sam. Despite this, Dean takes the main-Grendel role of initiating melee combat, while Sam takes the role held by the original Grendel’s Mother, as the more cautious and magic-focused backup/range fighter (Or at least, Sam SHOULD be doing that. Instead he lives his life like a dnd wizard trying to play a tank, refusing to learn actual magic and getting KO’d in every fight.)

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Moving on, let’s talk about Cas, or Cassiel in the actual Lore (but also spelled Castiel, Kafziel, Qafziel, etc). Yes, Cassiel is a real angel, thought he is not mentioned in the bible at all. In fact, he mainly exists in Kabbalistic studies, some extra-canonical Christian texts, various esoteric beliefs, and, randomly, as a tragic main character in a fairly obscure German Art House film about angels (Faraway, So Close, dir. Wim Wenders). Cassiel’s history of use as a tragic (and ultimately doomed) figure in modern media is likely due to certain aspects of his lore: *note: for this and following sections, I have opted to use screenshots directly from the source material

(Of course he likes crocodiles. It's the perfect level of random)

(Still not sure how Supernatural managed to totally flip the color scheme)

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It is extremely ironic that Cassiel, an angel that Kripke has said he chose “at random” as a name for the character in Supernatural, followed the lore so perfectly that many things about Cassiel work to fill in some much-needed context/backstory for Our Cas. Setting this aside, however, let’s look at the part that is most relevant to the finale.

Though he is also associated with Cybelle and Proserpina/Persephone, due to his rulership of the planet Saturn, Cassiel has much stronger ties to the god Saturn, the zodiac sign of Capricorn, and the new year, all of which only strengthen his connections to the archetypes of death, rebirth and time.

Cas, in a way, is Saturn, or at least a different version/manifestation of that being. The Lord Of Time, an uncommonly isolated spirit of midwinter and the new year, associated with agriculture and the harvest, the dude who Saturnalia is for, the Lord of Misrule in his chaotic aspect, etc, etc....

Also, Saturn is the Roman version of the titan Kronos. We meet Kronos one time in spn canon, in Season 7 episode 12. He was largely forgotten as a monster-of-the-week encounter, but after Cas’ final death in season 15, the fandom took renewed notice of Kronos, specifically his dying foretelling the futures of Sam, Dean and Cas:

Coincidentally, in this episode, Kronos was killed by the Winchesters for Doing Bad Guy Things in order to protect a human who he’d fallen in love with, in defiance of that human being fated to die- A parallel to Cas & Dean’s relationship that only becomes more apparent as the series progresses

In Greco-Roman mythology, Saturn/Kronos is overthrown by the gods, Zeus (his son) becomes king in his place, and Kronos is chopped to pieces and, as he is immortal and unable to be fully killed, thrown into the pit of Tartarus:

Tartarus is by far the best match I’ve seen to what, and why, The Empty is. Note that Tartarus, like The Empty, is both a place and a primordial deity at the same time.

*fun fact- even though Saturn was FAR more respected in Rome, his statues’ feet were still bound with wool to symbolically “bind” the god’s chaos, and were only unbound during Saturnalia, when social roles were meant to be overturned

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Before detaling the actual events of the finale, here’s a rundown of the other major characters:

-Jack is Jack. Literally. A “Jack” is a folkloric archetype from northern Europe, think of Jack The Giant Killer, Jack Frost, Jack And The Beanstalk, Jack O’ The Lantern. Stories often portray all of these Jacks as some variation of the same person. “Jack” as a character is usually young, either naive or “foolish”, bold, impulsive, and unshakeable. In fact, Jack in folklore is often found interacting with God and Satan, tricking and/or humiliating them both, usually within the same story. In many endings of the tale, Jack finds himself banned from Heaven AND Hell for his actions, and, depending on the story, either tricks his way back into heaven in a way that makes it impossible for him to be kicked back out, or, more commonly, convinces Satan to give him one of Hell’s embers to see and keep warm by, and wandering forever with that light, becomes Jack O’ The Lantern. This does mean that our Jack will likely not last long as God. Jacks, no matter how much power they get, rarely manage to keep it. However, could there be any better choice than Jack Kline to be in charge of Halloween?

(The answer is no. This is perfect.)

-Baby/The Impala, is, as much of the fandom has theorized for years, a sentient creature that can take human form. Weirdly, I have found no Human!Impala theories or fics that references Baby’s ability to travel impossible distances (such as Kansas to LA in less than a night), which make it very obvious that Baby is not a car. Specifically, Baby is a Pooka, a type of Fae shapeshifter known for taking equine form:

While John Winchester did buy a Chevrolet Impala, it is doubtful that this car lasted long into Sam and Dean’s childhood. It’s more than likely that John wrecked the original car driving drunk, since the most common way in which someone can encounter (and possibly control) a Pooka goes as such:

John probably used the above-mentioned horsehair bridle method used to gain control of her, specifically by wrapping the hairs around the car‘s keyring, as the keys to a car are the closest equivalent to a horse’s bridle. Additionally, while the car itself has been heavily damaged in-canon, the keys have remained intact. John never told Sam and Dean about the change to their car, but then again, he never told them a lot of important things.

Whatever Baby may have thought of John Winchester, I imagine that having two baby Grendels constantly left in her “care” was more than enough for her to feel some bond or responsibility towards Sam and Dean from fairly early on.

Also, Dean took REALLY good care of her, talked to her, and almost definitely left a few Playboy magazines in the car- an unwittingly amazing gift for a shapeshifter who often appears as a human with rabbit ears.

Lastly, Fae really, REALLY, don’t like pet dogs. Remember this. It is going to be extremely relevant.

*last minute edit: Bobby is a Tanuki. This is relevant to absolutely nothing, but is very funny. Balls

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Now, as for the actual events of the finale:

-Cold Iron has been a long-running concept throughout spn canon, primarily for its ability to cancel magic and either weaken or insta-kill all sorts of things, including demons and Fae. In America, cold-wrought iron was phased out of use as a construction material towards the end of the 1800s. Coincidentally, the barn from the finale episode matches the construction of barns from the mid-late 1800s. In case I’m not being clear here: Dean is not human. Dean is a Grendel (*last minute edit: even if he still was still somewhat human before s15, Sam and Dean worked with Michael and Lucifer in 15x19. Dean had just lost the love of his life, the entire human population of the world had vanished, and he was about to literally fight god. He would have easily been desperate enough to agree to let Lucifer kill/turn him on the spot in exchange for Cas/returning everyone who got thanos snapped/the ability to win a fistfight against Literal God). With no angels, Pookas or other beings alive to magically protect him, and no idea that he had to/was able to protect himself, Dean was not immune to iron. Staking a demon or Fae through the back with cold iron will kill it.

That’s Dean’s death explained. What about Sam? ...Buckle up, because this is where it gets wild.

-Féar Gortach/Hungry Grass is definitely an obscure cryptid. It is an Irish spirit/phenomena that takes the form of a patch of grass or field that (depending on the telling) has been cursed by Fairies, covers a grave, is related to the famine, or any combination of these things. There are not many accounts of it, but this one is one of the most well known, and also extremely relevant here. It’s a short read, but I have included screenshots of the relevant section below:

(*Last Minute Edit: it could have been a different Fae- lots of more malevolent Fae or Fae-aligned creatures use this method to harm or kill humans., but I personally would bet on this one)

Earlier in spn canon, Sam and Dean defeated, but did not kill, the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Their encounter with Famine was unique, both because of Famine’s method of preying on the individual weaknesses of each person, and because of the encounter’s clear open-endedness.

Many, many stories exist of people who are abducted by Fae or similar creatures and, while under that creature’s power, experience a whole lifetime within the space of a day (or a day over the course of a whole lifetime, but the first version is the one relevant here). If this person can escape the illusion, they are often drastically physically aged due to the experience.

This is the last image we see of Sam in the flash-forward, before he dies.

This is the horseman of Famine

This is Sam before the finale

And THIS is how Sam’s “Son” appears at Sam’s death in the flash-forward.

So, as a play-by-play:

-Cas, seemingly like every other entity with rulership over Saturn, got sucked into Tartarus.

-Chuck (whether or not he regained power in Heaven later) gives Sam and Dean a final “fuck you” by sending them a pet dog, which, while definitely a Good Boy, interferes with Baby’s ability to protect them from most Fae magic, including their own weakness to Cold Iron.

- In the final fight with the mimes, Dean is shoved over an iron stake, and, since neither Sam is not aware of his and Dean’s true nature, Dean dies before Sam can figure out what is happening. (*last minute edit: Dean probably asked Sam not to bring him back bc 1) where do Grendels even GO when they die, 2) they might go to Tartarus, and Dean is obviously extremely okay with that, and most importantly 3) he does not want his little brother’s last memory of him to be finding out that he’s a demon/bringing him back and possibly having to kill him)

-Sam walks out of the barn to get whatever you need to get in that situation, and, since he’s grieving and desperate, he’s an easy target for the hungry grass, which is waiting in the cornfields surrounding the barn. My best guess is that the grass used its illusions to appear as either Eileen, or someone else that Sam trusted, and led him deeper into the field by promising a way to have Dean back. By the next morning, Sam is dead in the cornfield less than 50 feet from the barn, and Famine, having drained every last bit of magic/energy/life force from Sam, now appears as the young man we see in Sam’s final moments.

-Sam and Dean are haunting the bridge from the final scene (ironic). (*last minute edit: at least Dean is. he’s obviously still there. where tf is Sam. is he on the bridge also, just stuck in a DIFFERENT time loop? if so that’s fucked up, but if not. WHERE IS HE)

-Jack is probably back on earth and/or already having a great time as The New King Of Halloween (*last minute edit. before anyone says he should be working on saving Sam/Dean/Cas. he’s FIVE YEARS OLD. LET HIM BE A KID IN WHATEVER WAY HE CAN)

-Baby is either bothering Adam/Michael (as she still serves the Winchester family line), or has been captured by Famine, if he took the keyring when he killed Sam.

*Also, despite this scene being the butt of many fandom jokes, Dean got to heaven and immediately started driving because the LAST time he ended up in heaven, he got out by following the highway, and found out he was dead by hearing Cas talk to him over the car radio (s5 ep16).

Now, how can this be fixed?

For Sam and Dean, there are two options. The first assumes that there is at least some echo of them haunting that bridge. I am admittedly unsure as to whether this would mean that part of Heaven is linked to the bridge, or that, like many ghosts, Sam and Dean are stuck to one physical location while believing that they are able to move freely. While there is very little written on how to reverse the effects of Cold Iron OR the Hungry Grass, it is widely accepted that running water can be a source of healing for some Fae, and harm for others. As the original Grendel lived in a lake, I’m assuming that Grendels are the type to be healed by water. Also, it has an easy point of access in current canon, and is hilarious.

The other option works no matter where their spirits/souls are, and involves finding and healing their bodies. Healing (or more lore-accurately, “freeing”) Dean would likely consist of finding a way to release the cold iron’s hold on his physical body, and then using some method to wake him up. I do imagine that, since Cold Iron reveals a creature’s true form as well as trapping it, Dean can only come back as a Demon at this point. He might not like it, but it’s that or be dead.

Sam is way more straightforward- in the episode where they fought Famine, he used Sam’s craving for demon blood at the time to taunt him. Now, Famine literally drained Sam dry. ...Therefor, demon blood. Not a pretty process, involves killing several demons beforehand, Sam didn’t handle it too well last time, but, again, it’s the best way to have him not be dead. (*last minute edit: found an alternative re: this weird old poem called “The Goblin Market”. appears to describe a young woman who was attacked and rapidly aged in a very similar way, but is healed by eating fairy/goblin fruits. idk how to get that but we already know a Pooka so that’s a start)

TLDR, any way to have the Winchesters not be dead will have to involve them being demons, permanently.

Now, for Cas, there are three main options, leading to a slightly different mythological primordial void (*last minute edit: assuming that Heaven has given up trying too brainwash or control Cas, and are keeping him locked up in The Empty/Tartarus when they don’t need him. They obviously did let him out for a bit recently, though, as the Queen of England did die and Cassiel is the angel in charge of that shit)

The Greco-Roman route is Cool and finally forces some of the Actual Cassiel Lore into spn canon.

(*last minute edit: discovered some Lore abt heaven’s methods of memory erasure. has heavy connections to myths abt Tartarus. tldf if The Empty= Tartarus, it is likely that Cas has lost some or all of his memories, Because Magic Greek Hell Rivers. Apparently)

The Norse route is a fairly uncommon choice of underworld in modern fantasy, relatively unguarded, and definitely interesting.

And of course the Christian route is familiar to the point of predictability, allows plenty of opportunities for old characters to return for an episode or two, works as a road trip story arc that I’m shocked hasn’t been done in canon already, and ends with Sam, Dean and Cas hiding out in Purgatory, providing a scenario with high potential for emotional reunions/soft Destiel moments/hurt-comfort with an emphasis on comfort, and a chance for Sam and Dean to explore purgatory now that they themselves are demons.

(Technically there IS a fourth route, consisting of going back to the earthside entrance to Lucifer’s Cage and trying to break through to whatever’s on the other side of The Cage... but that feels both too simple to be good storytelling, and WAY too risky if something goes wrong. Still, it’s worth considering)

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....anyway. I’m seriously impressed with anyone who reads this far- this is A Whole Entire Fucking Lot All At Once. Am I just posting it now bc I’m worried that I might be right (specifically about the Grendel Thing), and I won’t look as cool if The Winchesters beats me to the punch? ....yes. I am that petty.

Signed,

-Jamie (He/She/They)

Sources:

Beowulf, translation by Seamus Heaney

Grendel by John Gardner

http://www.archangels-and-angels.com/aa_pages/correspondences/angel_planet/archangel_cassiel.html

https://mythology.net/angels/cassiel/

https://www.theblackfeatherintuitive.com/who-is-archangel-cassiel-the-archangel-of-duality/

https://supernatural.fandom.com/wiki/Chronos

https://www.history.com/news/history-of-the-jack-o-lantern-irish-origins)

https://www.yourirish.com/folklore/irish-pookas#:~:text=A%20Pooka%20is%20a%20shapeshifter,mane%20and%20luminescent%20golden%20eyes

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P%C3%BAca

https://britishfairies.wordpress.com/2019/12/01/the-hair-of-the-dog-fairies-dogs/

https://wizzley.com/fear-gortha-the-irish-hungry-grass/ , https://obscurban-legend.fandom.com/wiki/Hungry_Grass

https://supernatural.fandom.com/wiki/Dark_Side_of_the_Moon

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mystic-writings · 6 months

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would’ve, could’ve, should’ve been | dean winchester

PAIRING — dean winchester x fem!reader

SUMMARY — you seem to have the perfect life with dean, but nothing good ever happens to you, so why should this?

WARNINGS — fluff, angst, anxiety, derealization, pregnancy, miscarriage mentions, blood & self-harm/suicide depictions, injury

WORD COUNT — 3,764

NOTES — this is all i’ve been thinking about for like a week. also TAKE THE WARNINGS SERIOUSLY THIS IS AN EMOTIONALLY HEAVY FIC | btw most of this takes place in season 2 or 3, and season 6 or so at the end

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This bed is too comfortable. Too warm. But you didn’t care, because it was the best sleep you’d gotten in years. You forced yourself to keep your eyes closed, to soak in the comfort that hardly ever came with your lifestyle.

Warm lips pressed against your temple, the pressure of someone else in the bed shifting your body ever-so-slightly. That was what forced you to peel your eyes open.

You stretched your arms, taking a deep breath in and locking eyes with… Dean. Your comfort quickly turned to shock and confusion, and judging by the look that formed on his features, your face showed how you felt.

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” He said, and the smile you fell in love with melted onto his lips.

“Morning,” you sighed. Something about all of this felt off, but you couldn’t place it. Everything else about your reality felt entirely normal, so you felt the only thing to do was brush it off entirely. “What time is it?”

Dean, who was leaning over you with one arm on either side of your head, craned his neck to the side. “Almost 9. I’ve got some grub ready for you downstairs, if you can handle it this morning.” He smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Let me guess, is it a pile of bacon and some eggs?”

“With toast,” Dean defended, and moved back as you pushed yourself into a sitting position.

As your feet touched the floor, Dean headed toward the bedroom door. “I’ll be down in a few, okay?”

Once Dean was out of sight, things began to feel odd again. You still couldn’t place the feeling, but it churned your stomach. Still, you did your best to push the feeling aside and headed to the bathroom. It was in there, as you brushed your teeth, that you saw the glint in the mirror — a ring, placed delicately on your left ring finger. The band was thin, the jewels were small, but it looked absolutely stunning.

Were you and Dean engaged?

The second the thought came to mind, you nearly laughed. Of course, you were engaged, why else would you be wearing a ring? And besides, it’s not as though it should be a surprise, you’d been engaged for almost two years now, and together for much longer.

After you were done in the bathroom, you browsed both the closet and dresser for something to wear, but none of your clothes felt right. There was little flannel — or jeans for that matter — and all the comfortable t-shirts belonged to Dean. You ended up choosing one of his old, plain shirts and a pair of jeans that felt a little too tight around the waist.

You followed the nearly-overwhelming scent of bacon downstairs and into the kitchen, where you found Dean plating everything up for the both of you at the table.

“Come get it while it’s hot, babe,” he smirked, setting the plates in their spots across from one another.

Breakfast was pretty silent, but you were starving. Pretty much the only thing you could think about was eating what was in front of you — including the bowl of poorly cut up fruit next to your plate. Just as you were finishing up whatever bacon you had, Dean let out a low whistle. You paused, mid-chew, and looked up at him. “What?”

“Well, I’ve just never seen you eat like that before,” Dean commented. “Guess I should expect things to start changing or whatever, but yesterday you damn near threw up at the smell of bacon, sweetheart.”

Why would that have made you nauseous in the first place? “What can I say, I’m a hungry woman,” you shrugged, and a thought came to mind. “Where’s Sam?”

Dean seemed caught off guard by your question. “Sam? He’s… in California, Y/n. He won’t be here until later tonight. Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You took a sip from the cup of orange juice in front of you. God, you could use a coffee.

“Nothing, I just- I know the doctor said brain fog would be normal, but I didn’t expect it to be this early.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stood, heading to the coffee pot to pour yourself some. You don’t know why Dean didn’t, especially considering he knew how much you loved it. “I’m fine, Dean, don’t worry. Just a little tired, is all.”

By the time you poured yourself a cup and it was halfway to your lips, Dean was at your side, pulling it from your hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Dean, seriously, what the hell are you up to? I’m just having a cup of coffee, jesus.”

“Were we not at the same doctor’s appointment last week?” Dean asked, dumping the cup down the sink. “She said no caffeine, period. Better to not take risks with the baby, all things considered.”

Baby? What baby?

Your mind reeled at Dean’s words for a few moments, confusion filling you to the brim. You weren’t pregnant. Right? You didn’t look or feel pregnant. Did you? Then, in an instant, your mind felt crammed with memories. Taking the test, sharing it with Dean, the doctor’s appointment. It rushed you all at once, but it felt… fake.

Sharp pain shot through your temples, and you pressed the heel of your palm to your forehead, catching your fiance’s attention. “Are you feeling okay, babe?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just a headache. I’ll be okay.” You assured him, removing your hand from your head and placing it on his shoulder. “I’m gonna go get some rest, okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll call mom, let her know tonight’s off.”

“No, no. I should be fine for tonight, don’t worry about it. I think I just need to rest.” After you got Dean to agree, you wracked your brain for what possibly could be going on tonight. Then, suddenly, you remembered. Dean’s birthday dinner. Of course. You and Mary had been planning it for weeks now. It was less fancy than the birthdays you recalled Mary having, with just a nice, home cooked meal and a cake and pie from Dean’s favourite place in town.

In fact, you were supposed to go help her with that today. However, you decided that maybe a small nap would be fine, since you didn’t need to go anywhere until after 12 o’clock.

If it weren’t for Dean waking you up again, there was a high chance you would’ve slept through the whole day. Both of you had things to do outside the house, so you got ready and left in tandem, a blissful, domestic peace settling over your house.

That is, until you saw the vehicles in the driveway. The old, black, Toyota Tacoma made sense, since it was yours, but the sedan — Dean’s sedan — didn’t.

“Where’s the Impala?” You asked, heading down the porch steps.

Dean glanced back at you, that all-too familiar face of confusion looking at you. “I got rid of it when we got the house, remember? You and mom said it was too loud to be in a quiet neighbourhood, so I traded it in.”

You hummed with a nod, your chest feeling a little heavy. You loved that car; Dean loved that car. The sedan was nice, but the Impala, she was a beauty. Dismissing it, you hopped into your truck and backed out of the driveway, the route to the bakery coming to you like riding a bike as you sang along to the cd mix you left in the console last week.

Once both the cake and pie were paid for and secured in the passenger seat, you headed back to the house to get ready for the dinner. Dean was still out, grocery shopping you presumed, due to the lack of ingredients in the fridge.

It took you nearly an hour, between your makeup and trying to find a dress that looked good on you and still fit. It still felt weird to you; the fact that you were pregnant. It’s not something you ever recalled truly wanting, not to mention something you ever really discussed with Dean. You still felt like your normal self. No nausea or mood swings, and definitely no cravings or aversions. You didn’t even feel bloated, even if your clothes said otherwise. It was like there was no pregnancy to begin with.

Still, you found a suitable outfit and made your way over to Mary’s, where she was already starting on the dinner you were helping her cook. Aside from her oddly watchful eye, you were grateful for the time you got to spend with just her. Time with Mary passed like nothing, and before you knew it, Dean was bringing Sam and Jess into the house, and dinner was practically done.

You greeted everyone happily, still wearing the apron Mary wrapped you in to keep your clothes protected. Sam and Jess looked happy, and for a moment, as you took Jess’ hand, you were flashed with images of Sam, sobbing at her grave. It overtook you, overwhelmed you, and shook you to your core. So much so that when you came back to the present, everyone was looking at you.

“Sorry,” you muttered, trying to put a smile on and untying your apron. “I’m just not feeling too well, I’ll be back in a second,”

You barely managed to toss the apron over the bannister as you headed for the upstairs bathroom. The door flung open and shut, and your back was pressed against it, the lock clicking, sealing you in to calm down. You tried to keep your eyes closed, but they kept flashing with those images. Jess’ grave, Sam’s tears. Jess, poor, lovely Jess, pinned to the ceiling with blood soaking her nightdress. Sam’s fear, the flames, you and Dean pulling him away.

What’s gotten into you?

After taking a few deep breaths, you finally got rid of those haunting images, and joined everyone in the dining room. Dean was sitting at the head of the table, with Sam and Jess on one side, and an empty seat on the other. You took that one, which was next to Mary.

“Are you okay, honey?” She asked, plating up mashed potatoes for everyone. “You were up there a while,”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You nodded, taking Dean’s hand. “I just… I think I’m coming down with something. Just needed a second, is all.”

Dinner passed smoothly, with comfortable chatter and laughter, reminiscing and recalling memories. You were bringing up things you didn’t even remember, but everything felt so natural and peaceful that you barely thought twice about it.

Just before cake and pie, the conversation quieted down, and Dean cleared his throat. He gave you a look, and you knew what he was going to do.

“I know it’s my birthday, but while we’re all here, Y/n and I have something we want to tell you,” Dean started, an uncontrollable smile on his face. It made you fall in love with him all over again.

Sam, Jess, and Mary’s voices overlapped as they berated you all with questions, their enthusiasm making you giggle.

“Okay, okay, we might as well just say it, right?” You asked your fiance, and he nodded. “We’re pregnant!”

The table erupted with cheers. Everyone stood up, and the next few minutes were a flurry of hugs and congratulations. Questions were asked and answered, and the joy was overwhelmingly felt.

When everything calmed, Dean mentioned, “I’m honestly surprised we got through dinner before announcing it. Between our excitement and Y/n’s nausea, I figured it would’ve slipped before we were halfway done.”

Your stomach churned at his comment, and you realised that he was right. You’d prepared and eaten all this food, and not once did you have any aversions or nausea, despite recalling the fact that you threw up at the smell of steak only a few days ago.

“Yeah, well, I guess I developed an iron stomach just for you, babe.” You smiled, just as Mary brought out the desserts.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. After desserts, you found yourself sitting with everyone in the living room, talking endlessly about how exciting everything was. Jess and Sam’s wedding, the baby, all of it. Mary even shared some of the stories she recalled from when the boys were little.

Dean stuck to your side the whole night, an arm around your shoulders. The whole scene, every moment, brought you comfort and peace, one you feel like you haven’t had in years, even if this was just what your life was like.

You drove home after Sam and Jess turned in, and it didn’t take long after you got home for the two of you to fall into bed, into a warm and safe cocoon made up of Dean and the duvet. You were utterly at peace.

But the peace didn’t follow you into your dreams.

Your subconscious became filled with the most sickening sights. Weapons, fights, death and destruction. And blood. Covering every inch of your skin, splattering and dripping and staining. And none of it was yours. The image of Jess returned, and so did Dean. More gruff, hardened, and scarier than you’ve ever seen him. Sam, tortured and fighting himself. Motels and bars and Baby, and then nothing. Emptiness, loneliness, hunt after hunt by yourself. No Dean, no Sam, no family. Then the warehouse. People strung up to die. The glow of blue magic, then nothing.

Waking up felt like being pulled out from underwater. Dean was nowhere to be found, but you were met with the sun-filled room you fell asleep in. An unsettling feeling settled in your chest, like something was wrong. This time, you couldn’t shake it.

You assumed, after getting ready and pacing around the house so much that you burned off your breakfast and made a second one, that the feeling must be from being alone. After all, you only felt this way yesterday when no one else was in your presence.

Since Dean had taken Sam and Jess house hunting for the day, something they planned weeks ago, you figured going to Mary would be best. After all, you didn’t know a thing about pregnancy, and she’d been through two. Maybe she could help. Maybe what you were feeling was just sudden anxiety about the baby now that people knew (even if you feel like you didn’t know until yesterday, even if you feel like you’re not even pregnant).

When you arrived, she was making herself some lunch, which she graciously offered to you and you accepted. The house was quiet now, and you wondered how she dealt with the silence all the time.

As you were finishing your sandwiches, Mary cleared her throat.

“Not that I don’t love your company, darling, but is there a reason you stopped by?”

You stopped chewing for a moment. Placing the remnants of your sandwich back on the plate, you swiped your hands on your jeans and took a swig of water. “Yes, actually, there is.” You took a breath, and forced the words. “I feel… off. I don’t know what it is, if it’s because of the baby, or,” you almost couldn’t say the word. It was like you were in a permanent state of denial. “I just… don’t feel okay. It’s like something’s wrong, but I can’t place it. But I only feel it when I’m alone.”

Mary seemed to think on her words for a while, before reaching over and placing a hand over yours. “Considering what you’ve been through, it’s totally normal to feel how you do. I mean, you and Dean went through a lot. Between the miscarriage and the break up, feeling like something’s wrong is probably just anxiety from last time. I’m sure if you talk to Dean about it he can help. He was such a wreck for so long.”

You pulled your hand away from Mary’s, as though her touch burned. You had no idea what she was talking about. Miscarriage? Breakup? You’d never been pregnant before. You didn’t even feel pregnant now.

You tried to think back, to reach into the back of your mind to try and pull forward these supposed memories, but all it did was give you a headache. Your temples throbbed as you pushed yourself. Then, like the breaking of a dam, everything flooded into your head.

The hunts, the lifestyle, the memories. You were right, you’d never been pregnant. This was not your life. This was a mockery of what was, a possibility of what could’ve been if the world hadn’t been so cruel, if fate and stubbornness hadn’t driven you to be alone.

The djinn was smart. It was skilled, its magic refined. You knew going after it alone was a mistake, but there was no one else you could go to. All your hunting friends were busy, and the Winchesters had become nothing but a painful mark on your soul; a memory too painful to relive, and too fond to forget. It took over you, subdued you, strung you up to die.

You knew the way out. Die here, and live there, or live here and die there. It was a no-brainer. If it weren’t for the fact that you had Dean. If it weren’t for the fact that Jess was alive, that Sam was happy. That Mary got to see her sons grow up. If it weren’t for the fact that things are normal.

Somehow, you managed to excuse yourself from Mary, thank her for the food and advice, and drive yourself home. You spent what felt like hours staring at yourself in the mirror that hung above the sink, splashing water in your face and thinking. If you didn’t do something, you’d die out there, in the real world. But the real world sucked. You were alone. Every day was a struggle, especially with the things you’ve seen, the things you’ve done. The real you had regrets, big ones. The real you didn’t know how she kept getting out of those cheap motel beds every day.

This version of you is happy. This you had regrets, but none as big, as ugly, as the real you. This you had a job, a house, a life, and a family. This you had Dean, and he alone almost made it worth it.

But it wasn’t enough. You knew it wasn’t enough.

So, you walked through the bedroom, down the stairs, and through your house, soaked in the setting sunlight. It felt like a death march. It was a death march; and its destination was the kitchen.

You stood at the counter with limbs filled with lead, with a looming fear. There was nothing to be scared of, really. It would just be the pain, and then you’d wake up. Everything would be fine.

But your hand still shook as you reached for the biggest knife in the block.

And it shook as the tip pressed into your stomach.

And then the door opened, and Dean called out to you, lovingly. He rambled on as he approached, talking about how he thought Sam and Jess found the perfect house - just a few streets away, he claimed, so close to you both, where you could build lives together.

You turned, knife still touching your skin, shaking and at the brink of tears, when he walked into the kitchen. You watched the joy within him turn to fear, and your heart broke.

“Y/n what are you doing-” he said, stepping closer.

“Don’t!” You shouted. He froze in place. Your shaking became uncontrollable. “Don’t come any closer.”

“What’s going on, Y/n?” He asked, and all you could hear was fear in his voice. “Just- just put the knife down, we can talk about this.”

You shook your head, and tears filled your vision. “No, we can’t. This isn’t real. None of it’s real, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it is. This is real, I’m real, okay?”

“No, you aren’t!” You screamed. “You’re Dean, I know that, but you’re not the Dean I love. You’re the Dean I wish I could’ve been with. This life, it’s perfect, and I wish it was mine, but it’s not. It’s just a stupid dream, and if I stay here I’ll die.”

“You’re not making any sense, babe. Just put down the knife, and I swear, I can help you.”

You sniffed, letting the tears fall. “God, I wish you could. I wish I could stay with you, Dean. You’re perfect, and I love you so much. I’m sorry.”

And within seconds, hot pain flooded your stomach as you buried the knife in your abdomen. Dean rushed to you as you pulled it back out, tears flowing down both your cheeks. He caught you as you stumbled, and guided you to the ground, into his lap.

The only thing you could retain was his hand on your wound, his cries for help, and grabbing his hand one last time, comforted by his skin touching yours as everything slipped away.

This position was far too uncomfortable. You tried to move, to stretch out, but something was stopping you. The air was cold around you, and your muscles were aching and tired. Something reached up to you, brushed the hair from your face.

You groaned as your arms dropped and something — someone — caught you. Through the muck you felt like your mind was swimming in, you remembered what happened. The djinn strung you up. But who was cutting you down?

Again, your hair was gently brushed from your face, and suddenly at the back of your neck and knees there was a pressure. You could hear voices around you, low and rumbling. They sounded panicked. Familiar. Safe.

A million thoughts ran through your head all at once, all of them rushing to the same conclusion. Open your eyes.

Emerald green, pale and comforting and worried, stared back at you, flooded with relief that you were alive. They were a stark contrast to what you had seen moments ago; the same eyes, though a little younger, filled with grief and pain and tears.

“Dean,” you rasped, and you could’ve sworn he smiled at you.

“Hey, princess,” you haven’t heard him call you that in years, “we’ve got you. Don’t worry. Me and Sammy, we- we killed the djinn. You’ll be okay.”

And, somehow, you believed him. You didn’t know how, or when, but you’d be okay.

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