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shewrites444 · 1 month

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rule bender [thomas shelby x reader smut]

word count - 3.9k

[ summary - following the events of season 2, the reader, major campbell’s abandoned daughter, meets with the peaky blinders to plot against her father’s downfall, but takes an unexpected interest in far more than what she came for. ]

[ warnings - implied age gap, virgin reader, dirty talk, oral sex (f), unprotected and slightly aggressive sex ]

there wasn’t much that needed to be said about my father other than he was a selfish, greedy, and obsessive man towards anything he wanted to manipulate into his life. i lived with him for only ten or so years before he took on his position as chief inspector, and ten years later, became major, assigned to the king and carrying out an extremely dangerous, highly destructive plan to not only use thomas shelby and the peaky blinders, but also get rid of them when done with.

i knew all this information through word of mouth and rumor, and frankly, didn’t mind using it to my own advantage. he was unaware of my presence in birmingham, and hadn’t heard from me in years since i moved to america, so i knew this type of threat would be the last thing on his mind.

when i wrote to the peaky blinders about my ideas, they expressed great interest in me, and intended to pay well for my travels and work ethic, allow me to stay with them or get me an apartment for some time, so much more than what my father would’ve done for me to carry out a mission for him.

when i sailed over, i spent the days wondering how much being back in birmingham would affect my well being, given the extreme amount of emotional turmoil i was put through in my childhood, but with the distance i had for so many years, i hoped that i’d be alright, and if i was being paid well, this would all be worth it in the end.

my father hasn’t seen me since my childhood, but i knew if we were to reconnect, he’d seem to pity me, and potentially present a soft spot to me, one i could easily manipulate for the shelby’s.

this didn’t even feel wrong, conspiring against him, given i felt no emotional connection. it was sad in a way, but i was struggling in america, given i was working as a secretary at a small bank and still remained unwedded. there were things i had to do to get by, and helping carry out an assassination of my father wasn’t plan a, but it paid almost as much as a year’s salary for me, so it must’ve been in the cards.

upon my arrival in birmingham, an assistant of the shelby’s had already been waiting for me, and drove me to their residence, where i was guided into a meeting room that also seemed to be a kitchen, so i already knew i was in the family residence. this could mean one of two things - i was highly trusted, or such a high risk they’d have to kill me where no one would find me. maybe both.

i sat down, the man asking me if i wanted something to drink, which i kindly declined. he told me the shelby family would be with me soon, and to remain patient.

i kept that request to heart, but also couldn’t help but feel anxious. of course, that was reasonable, but with such a high ranked family, i had to keep my composure, and talk business like my life depended on this meeting, because it did.

an older woman opened the slide in door, looking to me with a flat expression as she pulled out the chair next to me, sitting down and taking out a pack of cigarettes, offering me one, which i also kindly declined by shaking my head softly.

she chuckled, lighting it with a small match. “it seems america can change a woman. you can smoke here, dear.”

i smile softly, brushing my hair behind my ear and cross my arms, straightening myself out in the wooden chair. “i moved there when i was a teenager, i never smoked much anyway, so i’m used to living differently, i suppose.”

“well, if all is well and you house with us, get used to the smoke.” she said, putting the cigar into her mouth.

our attention was averted to three men that stepped through the doors, all of different ages and looks, but clearly related. the oldest, or at least who i assumed to be, sat aside the woman, and the other brother sat beside me, and the final, who seemed to have the most intimating look of them all, sat facing me, across the table.

he cleared his throat, looking at me and holding our eye contact, blinking once or twice before he leaned his elbows onto the table, holding his hands together as he collected his words.

“you must be [y/n] campbell. did you travel well?”

i nod, uncrossing my arms and resting my hands against my legs, glancing down at the table. “yes, i am, and yes, i did. it was fine.”

“good.” he says, leaning back and reaching into his pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes. the woman was right about their tendency to smoke.

he lights one before he begins to smoke and his brothers do the same.

“your father has been causing me and my family quite the trouble for some time.” he begins, shaking his head. “i’d never ask you to commit such a crime, but you are obviously well aware you have to assist through the process. if you don’t have what it takes to do so, we can sail you back home, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“i wouldn’t travel this far if i didn’t.”

the oldest brother smirks, reaching to the middle of the table to grab the bottle of whisky, opening it and pouring himself a glass. “it seems she means business, tommy. don’t meet many women these days who plan on killing their father.” he laughs, gesturing his glass towards me. “shoot him yourself and we’ll throw in-”

“arthur, enough.” the woman interrupts, shaking her head with annoyance. she looks back to me, putting out her cigarette.

“continuing what thomas was saying, if you are completely prepared for this, we will allow you to stay with us, completely secure, as long as you follow what we ask you to do. we can’t let you leave the residence without our permission, given your identity. if your father finds out you’re here, you are a threat to not only us, but your own well being. we ask you only leave to visit him, when we thoroughly plan out that conversation, and other then that, remain here. you are free to eat what i cook and what we have here, spend time in the library, do whatever you please, in these walls. you are welcome to stay in the guest room, which has a bathroom as well, and i don’t mind getting you some clothes this week since you’ll be here for some time.” she stands up, nodding to me and pushing her chair in. “it’s getting late and we have business to do tomorrow morning, so if this is alright with you, we’ll discuss details tomorrow, and you can get settled in tonight. agreed?”

“yes, ma’am.” i nod, looking around the table as everyone stares at me. “that sounds fine to me.”

thomas, who i now realized was the man sitting across from me, stands up as well, and gestures his hand towards me. “i’ll show you where you’ll be staying. everyone else, finish your business for the night and we’ll discuss this topic once again tomorrow afternoon.”

the room was cleared of the group within a matter of seconds, his authority made clear, as the door was shut by the woman. thomas walks towards me and gestures me to stand up. we walk towards a hallway left of the kitchen, a few doors down until we reached the guest bedroom, which was decorated plainly but well enough for someone to reside in for some time.

he lit the two candles on the dresser with a match from his pocket, setting it on the surface before he turned to me, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“i was the one who read your letter and wrote you back. it really shocked me, eh. i know you’re angry, and i understand that feeling, believe me, but don’t let it get in the way of what you, what we, are trying to accomplish. this may be revenge to you, but it’s business to me, and my family. try to make it seem like that to you as well.”

i sit down on the bed, my eyes averting from his hidden hands and up to his eyes. i sigh, crossing my arms. “i think i’ll be okay, thank you.”

he nods, holding eye contact for a short moment before turning around, walking towards the door and grabbing the knob.

“goodnight, miss [y/n].”

“goodnight.”

i watch him shut the door and sigh, shaking my head to almost physically get him, and that conversation, out of my head. i’m here for business, and yes, a bit of vengeance, but not for some sort of fatal attraction that just showed up when speaking to him alone. fuck. that’s the last thing i’m here for.

with that off-putting thought, i knew i needed to sleep soon. i changed into a nightgown that was in the top drawer, pulling my hair into a loose bun and washing my face from the long day of travel and conversation that i had, before i sunk into the soft mattress and bundled myself into the covers.

i closed my eyes, thoughts of not only my current situation, but thomas running through my tired mind. he was attractive, but clearly uninterested given his dry, blunt tone, but he was so powerful, god, it made me think. it made me think far too much.

although, even if he wanted me, i didn’t have much experience, so i’d make a complete fool of myself, and the mission i came here to perform, which had nothing to do with sleeping with thomas shelby.

this pointless overthinking wasn’t helping me sleep.

i slid out of the bedsheets, rubbing my forehead in annoyance and cursing under my breath as i walked towards the door, opening it quietly and heading back to the kitchen, one of the few places i knew in the shelby house, to grab a glass of water.

to my surprise, what i was attempting to get away from was sitting at the dining room table, reading through a few papers with a glass of whiskey in hand. i blush, standing awkwardly as he looks up to me when the wooden board i was standing on creaked. he set his drink down, but kept one paper in his free hand.

“looking for something?”

“yes, uhm, water.” i say, crossing my arms as my nerves collected and also to block any showing of my breasts, which were pretty visible through the white fabric. “i just can’t sleep.”

he stood up, pouring me a glass and handing it to me, glancing down briefly to stare at my newly changed clothes. “then sit out here. surely these would put you to sleep.” he gestures towards the documents on the table, pulling out the chair next to me.

"it's alright." i awkwardly nod, gesturing the glass towards him. "thank you for the water. i should at least try to lay back down though."

"i don't think you want to." he says bluntly, licking his finger to flip to the next page of the newspaper. "come on, miss [y/n], have a seat."

i sigh, walking a few steps over to sit aside him in the wooden chair, setting the clear glass on the table. "to be frank, i am really not in a sufficient mood to discuss anything that involves my father, mr. shelby... i do want to go to bed."

he chuckles, setting the paper down and sitting back into his chair. "i know you don't want to discuss your father, and neither do i at this hour. i was simply suggesting the reason you aren't in your bedsheets touching yourself to me is because you wanted it first hand, is that right?"

my eyes widen a bit as i hear him speak. i stand up, despite the urge to discover this scenario more, and push my chair in. "have a good night, mr. shelby." i say rather quickly, turning back to the hallway that lead towards my bedroom, before i hear his chair push back, his footsteps following my path.

i feel him take my hand, turning me around and into a deep, lustful kiss, his hands immediately traveling down to my waist, guiding me down the hallway and into my room, where he sets me on the bed, shutting the door behind him. i sit there, my body frozen, and frankly, already burning my passion, but one i was unable to act on with another. everything i was overthinking just minutes before was unfolding before me.

thomas tiled his head, looking at me confused as he began to unbutton his white dress shirt. he stepped closer, stripping of his top and letting it fall to the floor behind him. he pursed his lips together with a plain expression, yet so much thought was read before his eyes.

"you're a virgin." he says blankly. "aren't you?"

my eyes widen and i really couldn't hide the truth, if he was already getting that conclusion so quickly. i nodded slowly. "uhm, yes.. i.. i am.."

he leans down, and eventually, sinks onto his knees, lightly pressing both of his hands to the opposite ends of my hips, sighing softly through his nostrils. “in.. everything?”

“mr. shelby, i’m no pru-”

he chuckled, rolling the nightgown up enough to pull down my white panties onto the floor, gesturing for me to lay back. “then i believe you, miss [y/n], just lay down.”

i gasp softly as his lips kiss my folds, the wetness of his saliva trailing up to my clit as his tongue digs inside of me, sucking on my sensitive skin while his arms wrap around my legs to bury himself between my thighs.

i reach down to lightly hold him by the hair, my other hand hiking my nightgown up more and more until i was able to see his head. i meet his eyes, and that only pushes him to go faster, his tongue dancing in circles and different rhythms on my clit, but breaks free soon after, to trail kisses down my thighs, up to my stomach, to my breasts, and to my lips. i taste myself through our kisses, his hot breath enveloping mine as his tongue slides into my mouth.

i moan into the kisses, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck, fingers lightly grazing his now exposed skin. he was warm, and he knew what he was doing, which frankly, made a bit nervous, but i wasn't opposed to letting him carry the weight of our situation.

he lightly pulled himself away before meeting my eyes as he hovered above me. he glanced down between our bodies before looking back to me. i could feel his erection through his pants as it grazed against my inner thigh, practically begging for its release towards my slit.

i felt his hand trail between us, gently rubbing my wet clit and watching for my reaction, as my mouth opens again and my cheeks grow redder at his touch. i close my eyes, my back arching lightly at the feeling, my legs spreading before him. he leans back down to trail kisses down my neck, before his teeth grab the top of my down near my right breast and pull it down, tucking it underneath the ball of flesh he wanted to see. he began to lick my nipple, sucking at an increasing speed, his tongue distracting me from his release from my clit.

i could hear his belt buckle, and his pants drop to the floor, his boxers following the clothes as he leaned up, leading me out of touch as he positioned himself between my inner thighs. he glanced down to me, his right hand lightly grazing his cock as he aligned it against my folds. he sighed through his nose, looking down at our bodies before lightly pushing his tip in, barely enough for me to feel.

"tell me if it hurts, [y/n]." he says my name alone with a husky tone, before gently sliding himself inside me, his thick cock stretching my tight, sensitive walls as he slowly worked his way inside.

i gasp, looking down between my legs watch his cock disappear into me, and his hand moving from his length to my thigh, lightly holding it up to push himself in further. when he finally got inside of me, so deep that i felt his balls lightly against my ass, he glanced down at me for the first time since he was inside.

"i-it feels good, mr. shelby." i say, knowing he wanted my word for it.

he clicks his tongue lightly, beginning to slowly pump himself in and out of me, the sound of my wet pussy enveloping the noise of the room. his cock twitched at the feeling, small breaths coming from his nostrils as he focused on the feeling of my body holding him close. he leans down, planting a kiss against my lips before pulling himself up, just enough that our noises were still touching as he breathed against my face.

"such a pretty woman you are, miss [y/n]. you take cock so well, you know that, hm? you feel so natural around me, love. like you were built for my cock."

i gulp at his words, feeling my face burn at the talk mr. shelby spoke above me, as his pace began to lightly increase with each smooth word. i nod, pursuing my lips together and feeling my core tighten as the sounds of our bodies against each other began to fill the room, much more than before.

he chuckles at my silent response, but i showed it through my body the more he fucked me. his strokes were gentle, but deep, his cock nearly leaving my pussy through each and every stroke, but pushing back inside through one thrust every time. i could hear him grunt at the sensation, and it was evident he needed more for release.

i lightly lean up, my arms shaking slightly while i adjusted myself, and he leaned up once more, still inside of me.

"d-do you.. do you think i could take your cock as well from behind me, mr. shelby?" i stammer, glancing up to him with a red face. "if.. if you think that would feel better for the both of us.."

a grin spread across his cheeks, and he lightly pulled out of me, gesturing for me to flip over and get onto my knees. he places his large hands on my lower hips, his thumbs resting on the top of my ass. i could feel his cold rings on my body as he leaned forward to push himself inside once more.

it felt much different this way, the way he was holding me, the way his cock was pushing through my tight walls at a quickly accustomed angle. god, it felt fucking good, but i knew he wouldn't be rougher, or more, with me, if i didn't say so. mr. shelby seemed to be a ruthless man, but he was taking it easy with me given the circumstances.

"harder." i mutter under my breath, but just enough that he could hear me from his position.

"are you sure, love?" he asked, his grip on my hips tightening and his cock begin to take up a new speed. "because i can fuck you like a whore, but i'm not too sure you'd like that during your first time."

"i-i am sure, mr. shelby. i need it."

with my permission, he pulled himself out of me, before nearly slamming himself back inside, his tip grazing close to what felt like my lower stomach as he began to pump himself further into my body, his cock making my body turn towards some sort of shock, as i felt a sharp feeling of pain yet pleasure escalate through my core, my legs, everywhere.

i gasp, leaning down to rest my head into the pillow, trying to muffle the loud moans and high pitched yelps as mr. shelby pounded his length into my pussy, every stroke earning a whine from my covered lips. he took one of his hands off of me to reach down and grab me by my tied up hair, lifting my head up to cause my body to arch in reaction, and my open mouth to gasp at his sudden movements.

"do you think whores stay quiet, miss [y/n]?" he tilts his head, looking down at my half-covered body as he talks, slightly taunting. it seemed a more demeaning attitude came with more of mr. shelby's dominance.

i shake my head, trying to catch my staggered breath as the question pent up my nerves. "n-no, mr. shelby.. they.. they don't.."

"exactly." he huffs, his hand moving from my hair to my neck, his fingers gripping my red, sweating skin. "so how should you behave when i fuck you?"

"but.. but it may be loud, mr. shelby.." i conteract, closing my eyes as his hard hits travel farther into my pussy, his balls slapping against my clit, which only increased my harsh stimulation. "i-i don't want to wake your family.."

thomas lifted his hand briefly to smack my ass, hard, earning a yelp from my lips. "does it look like i give a fuck what they think? i have the authority here, don't i? i can fuck you as i please, can't i?"

"y-yes.." i moan as his hand left my body stinging, nodding hastily. "you do, fuck, mr. shelby.."

he kept his motions at their highly aggressive rate, pounding my pussy and expecting the reactions i gave him, which were loud, visible moans and yells cued by his manipulation, as he fucked me so hard the room was full of our own created noise, and the sound of the bed frame creaking against the wooden wall, and the floorboards slightly screeching against the rapid movements.

i felt my own release building up, and with his thumb suddenly planting against my clit, i gasped, my climax releasing against his cock as he rode out his own high, filling my insides and thrusting momentarily before slowly pulling out.

he leaned forward to help flip me over, watching me catch my breath and straight my own out as he got himself dressed. he leaned down to grab my panties, then got on the floor to slide them up my legs, and adjust them against my hips before leaning forward, gently sticking his index finger past the cotton before slowly pushing it into my pussy, and sliding it out, licking it slowly before me as he stood up.

"we'll discuss plans for your father tomorrow, hm?" he asked casually, adjusting his shirt into his pants. "perhaps i'll take you shopping for some new dresses as well outside of birmingham?"

i nod, slowly sitting up on the bed. "uhm, yes, i'd.. i'd like that, mr. shelby."

"thomas." he says, leaning down to peck my lips. "no mr. shelby. you're a bit different than a business partner now, eh? we've bent the rules a little here."

i chuckle lighting, shaking my head. "i.. uh, suppose so, yeah.."

he holds my cheek lightly before walking towards the door and holding his hand against the knob. "goodnight." he opens the doors then, glancing to me.

"goodnight, thomas."

#thomas shelby peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #x reader #x yn #smut writing #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby smut

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copepods · 7 months

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gotta say i really love when ppl depict iterators where the Entire Structure Is An Animal not just the puppet and i wish ppl did it more... like a slugcat visits their iterator friend and all the little blue tendrils along the walls brush against it as it passes to say hello. an iterator gets agitated or anxious and their neurons start swirling around frantically and their inspectors search instinctively for a threat. flux condensers that pulse even more powerfully when their iterator is angry. stuff like that yknow

#text #rain world

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lavidavacomoverstappen · 2 months

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This was never about you

Here is part one of this was never about you!! please let me know if you guys would want me to continue with this series!!

Sounds of a rough hand hitting a soft face echoed throughout the room. She stirred around to greet this sudden, yet rude wake-up call. Y/n was never one for confrontation. Often times, even with Charles, she never voiced out her anger, always being the perfect timid wife he was promised when her father gave her away. She felt scared, confused, and most importantly pissed off, because she knew that the pain was going to get worse, even though she was accustomed to pain. It had been over a year since she was wedded off to Charles. She didn’t know much about him, really. No one did. All she knew was that he was scary enough to get her abusive father to marry her off and that he was her protector now. Officer Campbell, that was the name of the twat who had decided that instead of hurting Charles by seizing his drugs or guns, he was going to take away his little wife and rough her up, just to add a cherry on top. Campbell had taken her away while she was shopping for groceries. Poor little thing, he thought, as he got his men to pull out the injection to sedate her. He had all the time in the world to look at the infamous Mrs. Leclerc. He liked what he saw and was hell-bent on making her look unrecognizable. Charles and y/n had just argued prior to her leaving for groceries. It was a silly argument, really. For the first time since they had gotten married, y/n raised her voice at Charles over rumors of his torrid affair. She could barely get two words out of her mouth before she shut herself up. Her father’s beatings came flooding back to her mind. She wouldn’t want Charles to become like her father, now would she? So she shut herself up. Charles was utterly confused. He didn’t understand where his pretty little wife got the idea of him cheating on her. He only ever had eyes for her, no one else. He had so much to say to her yet never had the time since Inspector Campbell was always up his ass. He knew that if he slipped up, his entire mafia could be affected, but most importantly, she would be affected. So all Charles had said to her was, “I am not a cheater.” She stormed off before he could finish his sentence.

Y/N knew what she was doing was stupid, but she didn’t care. She took a cab and went grocery shopping without any security. Little did she know that it would be her worst mistake. She was getting anxious as she saw Charles’s name flash up on her screen for the 12th time. She was just about to answer it, but before she could listen to anything he could say, she felt the cold metal syringe pierce her skin. All Charles could hear was his wife’s loud shrill and cry for help before her phone was stepped on. He muttered out a faint “no” before screaming for Pierre to find out where she was.

#charles leclerc x wife reader #mafia!f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #mafia!charles leclerc #f1 scenario #dad!charles leclerc

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mthevlamister · 2 months

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I am starting a small tag chain for funsies and I do hope y’all indulge uwu

It’s just this: https://www.montereybayaquarium.org/stories/shrimp-personality-quiz

And post your results as such:

Hehe

Tagging: @fishyfishyfishtimes (duh), @phillycheesesteakcore, @lemonofthevalley, @philcoulson-redtapeninja, @serikyl, @darlingmissmoth, @writingrobinsblog, @greiiliss, @anxious-mess19, @nutria--oscura, @liminallylost , @theitalianscribe, @thetiniestastronaut, and anyone else who wants to join ( @postal-inspector-groat I’ve seen your results already but you should join my game bc >:3)

#tag game

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caesthoffe · 3 months

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An Update on Brianna Ghey

tw // extreme transphobia, hate crime, violent death, death of a child

If you're unfamiliar with Brianna Ghey, you can read up on the story here or watch this overview. There's been multiple updates, and I wanted to let people know about the most important ones.

On February 4th 2024, the two originally unnamed teenagers— the 16-year-old boy now identified as Eddie Ratcliffe, and 16-year-old girl now identified as Scarlett Jenkinson —have been sentenced to life in prison for the fatal stabbing of Brianna (x).

On the day of her murder, February 11th 2023, Brianna took the No 28 bus at around 2pm to meet up with Jenkinson (who brought Ratcliffe along without Brianna's knowledge). The two led her to a path on Culcheth Linear Park, where she was stabbed to death with a hunting knife (x) that Ratcliffe provided. Although both parties would later blame the other in court, it's important to note that Ratcliffe was the only one with blood found on his clothes. Brianna was stabbed a total of 28 times in her head, neck, chest, and back (x). Not long after, Jenkinson posted this to her snapchat account.

Her murder was premeditated weeks in advance (x), with the pair plotting their attack against Brianna (x), who was anxious and rarely went out alone. They'd previously attempted to kill her before, although those plans ended up failing (x).

Prior to her murder, she'd sent a message to her mother saying "I'm on the bus by myself. I'm scared." To which her mother had replied that she was proud of her attempt at going out alone. Unfortunately, Brianna never got to read that text.

Thousands of text messages have leaked from the two killers, where Ratcliffe misgenders and demeans Brianna, and Jenkinson details her obsession with Brianna.

➡ When Jenkinson sent Ratcliffe some selfies of Brianna, he replied, "Is it a femboy or a tranny?"

➡ After Jenkinson expressed that she thought Brianna was prettier than her, Ratcliffe had said, "Prettier but it's a boy."

➡ Jenkinson had texted him on Whatsapp, "I'm obsessed over someone I know but don't have feelings for them... She's called Brianna... I don't know how to explain. She looks like a girl, she sounds like a girl, she's really pretty." To which Ratcliffe replied, "Tell me what you feel when you interact with it. I don't think you're necessarily in love but I think you're more curious and intrigued by its unnatural nature." (x)

➡ After their initial attempt to kill a different student failed, Jenkinson suggested that they stab Brianna instead. Ratcliffe agreed, saying "Yeah, it'll be easier and I want to see if it will scream like a man or girl."

➡ Jenkinson discussed wanting to take Brianna's "pretty" eyes as trophies, and Ratcliffe said "Really all I want to see is what size dick it had."

➡ During the trial, when asked by the prosecutor why he used the terms "it" instead of "she" for Brianna, he said that it was a "joke" and that he had picked it up from other people.

Despite all of this, Cheshire police are still adamant that Brianna's murder was not motivated by transphobia (x), because "...If it hadn't been Brianna, it would have been one of the other four children on that list." This is further corroborated by Detective Inspector Nigel Parr of Cheshire Constabulary, who led the investigation. Outside the court, he claimed that "this was a senseless murder committed by two teenagers who had an obsession with murder, whose only motivation in killing Brianna was to experience what this would be like." (x)

The headteacher of Birchwood Community High School has claimed that she spoke to Brianna's mom who "confirmed that Brianna was not bullied at Birchwood and always felt well supported by the school," and that Brianna's mother had given her permission to share that (x). This is despite multiple of Brianna's friends, and Brianna herself (x), saying the opposite (x).

The two killers are eligible for parole in 20 and 22 years. I can only hope they atone for the harm they've caused Brianna's family, the trans community, and everyone else affected.

I hope one day we can live in a world where being trans isn't a death sentence. Where major news outlets can report on trans victims with respect (x). Where anti-trans hatred spewed by TERFs and radfems, right wing politicians and conservative talk show hosts no longer hold such an influence in the world.

We will be able to live as ourselves one day. Without fear. I just wish Brianna could be here to see it.

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acewritesfics · 4 months

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Mama Bear | Tommy Shelby

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Nora + Bess

Request: No but @runnning-outof-time's interest kept me encouraged and motivated to write it.

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Swearing. Smoking. Threats being made. Inspector Campbell being a prick. Slight Grace bashing. Nora protecting her family and being a mama bear. Someone gets called a whore [hint: it's not Lizzie]. A six-year-old in the pub. Tommy and Nora's daughter's name in this is Elizabeth but she gets called Bess or Bessie. Also crayola crayons came out in 1903 but were invented in 1902, useless fact, I know...

Word Count: 1,971

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

"Give Tommy and Elizabeth my love," Nora’s mother, Marion, tells her as she stands up to leave. "Hopefully I'll see you all at church on Sunday."

"You know I can't make any promises, mother," She says also standing up. "I'll make sure to give Tommy and Bessie your love," She adds as her mum pulls her in for a hug.

"I really wish you would stop calling your daughter Bessie," Marion sighs as she pulls away from her daughter.

"Don't start, we had such a lovely lunch together," She frowns at her, already felling annoyed at her mothers insistence to see them on Sunday.. "And you know she prefers Bessie over Elizabeth."

"I'll see you Sunday," Marion says ignoring what she said as she leaves the restaurant.

"I doubt it," Nora mumbles to herself as she picks up her purse. Sunday is hers and Tommy’s day where they solely focus on there daughter. No outside family or work. It’s just the three of them and it’s been that way since Bess was born.

As Nora goes to leave she sees someone who makes her blood boil in the worst kind of way. Walking over to him, her mind goes back to the events of the day before. Ada and Polly had taken Bessie and Finn to the park for a few hours and had been spotted by Inspector Campbell who grabbed Bessie's arm and threatened to have her removed from her's and Tommy's custody.

When Tommy and Nora arrived home from the races, a frightened Bessie ran up to them crying about a man telling Auntie Polly and Auntie Ada that he was going to take her away from them. When Polly explained to them what happened, Nora and Tommy were about to go murder the Irish inspector. But reassuring their daughter that mummy and daddy would never let that happen was more important.

Polly told them that she made sure he knew he was crossing a line and that she has their backs if something were to happen to him as well as threatening to cut his hands off if he touched her again.

"Well isn't this a pleasant surprise, Inspector," she plasters a fake smile on her face as she sits across from him, sipping his tea.

He looks at her a little surprised. "Mrs Shelby, I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"That's odd, since you've been following my family around since you've been here," she says trying to keep the venom from her voice. "I was just having lunch with my mother. I saw you on my way out and thought we could have a little chat."

"Don't you have to get back to that criminal husband of yours?" He says seeming anxious to get rid of her.

"Do you see a leash around my neck?" She asks him, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Why are you with a man like him?" he asks her. "He'll only get you and your daughter hurt, maybe even killed. He's bad news and you and Bessie," he ignores the glare she sends him when he mentions her daughters nickname. "Deserve better than that."

"You see, Tommy is a lot of things, Inspector," she begins. "But he's my husband and my daughter's father, first and foremost, and if you think for a second that you can turn me against him by saying all that, you should think again," she continues, leaning in closer and pointing the fingers that are holding her cigarette at him. "And if you continue to use my daughter as leverage in whatever game you're playing with him, you won't only have Thomas Shelby to worry about."

"Is that a threat, Mrs. Shelby?" he asks, visibly gulping. The bite in her words and fire in her eyes told the inspector she's a woman of her word and that if he didn't fear Tommy, he should certainly fear her. She was not only a woman protecting her husband but a mother protecting her cub.

"Oh no, darling," she leans back in the chair, crossing her legs, with one arm across her stomach while the other brings her cigarette back to her lips. She takes one last drag on her cigarette before crushing it into the ashtray on the table. Uncrossing her legs, she stands up from her seat. "Think of it as a friendly promise."

"We're not friends," he frowns up at her.

"And we never will be with that attitude," she scoffs. "But if you would rather I threaten you," she starts, as she moves closer and leans over him. "You touch my daughter again and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

She stands up straight and goes to step away from him when she turned back around. "And if I were you, I'd send Grace back to Ireland or to where the hell she wants to go. Would hate for something to happen to her when the other's finally see the truth about her."

"You know about Grace?" He looks at her surprised and a little worried for the blonde 'barmaid'. "Are you worried she'll steal your husband?"

"I know more than you think," she smiles. "If you think your blonde whore can steal my husband, you're a bigger fool than I thought. In fact you two are perfect for each other. Idiots, the both of you," she adds and pats his cheek. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Inspector."

Leaving the restaurant, she makes her way to the Garrison.

Nora enters the Garrison, finding only Grace behind the bar. She's leaning in close to the wall of the snug as if she's trying to listen in on whoever is in there. Nora knew it would be Tommy, Arthur and John since they were the only ones who used it. Rolling her eyes, she makes her way over to the bar.

"You might as well have your ear against the wall," she says startling the barmaid spy. "I'll bet I can guess what you're listening in on."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Grace tries to deny having being caught eavesdropping.

"Gosh, I really hope Bess isn't giving her dad and uncles too much trouble. That girl can be a handful when she wants to be. She gets that from her Uncle John," Nora smiles, this was her way of reminding Grace of where she stood. Not only was Grace unknowingly revealing her intentions for working there, she'd taken a liking to Tommy that was a little more than him being her and Campbell's target. "She has her Uncle Arthur's temper though. But then again all the Shelby's have that temper and they can hold a grudge well too. You really wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of them."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're trying to warn about something?"

"I would hate for something to happen to the pretty face of yours," she says not bothering to hide her intentions in her words.

"Look, I don't know-" she begins only to be cut off but the snug door opening and Tommy walking out.

"Hello, Love," he greets his wife, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "How was lunch with Marion?"

"It went well," she smiles. "She's invited us to church on Sunday. And just so you know, you missed."

"Did I?" he asks, a small smirk making it's way on to his lips. Taking her face in his hands, he plants his lips on hers, making sure to make a show of it. "Better?" he asks when he pulls away.

"Much better," Patting his chest, she moves past him into the snug. She's surprised to see Bessie's box of crayons and her sketchbook sitting neatly to the side. The little girl loves to draw and takes her drawing book and crayons every where she goes.

Looking at Bessie, she notices the little girl has playing cards in her hand and a stoic look on her face as she glances at her uncles sitting across from her.

"Please tell me you're not teaching our daughter to play cards," she says to Tommy as he stands next to her.

"Our dad started teaching us at her age," Arthur pipes up, his eyes furrowed in concentration as he looks between his cards and Bessie.

"Next we'll be off to the races, teaching her how to place a bet," John joins in.

"Remind me why I married into this family again?" she says turning towards Tommy who had moved to sit back down next to Bessie.

"Because you couldn't resist my charm," Tommy teases smiling up at her and pulling her onto his lap. "And aside from Bessie, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"And he knocked you up." John adds, snickering behind his cards.

"What does knocked you up mean, mummy?" the soft spoken voice of her daughter asks.

Nora sends a deadly glare towards John. "I'll explain it when you're older." She turns back to Tommy. "We should head home. I need to talk to you."

"Can't we talk here?" he asks.

"I caught her trying to listen in again," she says leaning in to whisper in his ear just incase Grace was standing there with her ear pressed to the wall again.

"I think it's time we take Bess home," Tommy announces to the room as Nora stands from his lip, picking up Bessie's crayons and book.

"But Uncle Arthur owes me £1," Bessie whines as she drops her cards on the table.

"I'll give it to your dad later," Arthur assures her as she shuffles off her chair.

"She'll hold you too it," Nora warns her brother-in-law from thinking that he can get away from paying his debt to his youngest niece. She helps the six year old into her coat.

The small family of three say their goodbyes and leave the Garrison, making their way home.

"Is she alright?" Tommy asks as Nora's arms wrapped around him from behind. She lets out a sigh as she nuzzles her face into his back. Bessie wanted to do some drawing in her bedroom when they got home so Nora had got it all set up for her while Tommy made her some tea.

"She's perfect," She answers not just talking about their little girls mood.

Bessie had been born just before the war was declared and Tommy and Nora were married not long before her birth. She was two months old when Tommy and her Uncles were shipped off to France. Every time when Tommy came back on leave she'd grown so much. He'd missed all her milestones but read about it in his wife, his sister and his aunt's letters. Bessie was four when he came home after the war ended and she attached herself to him as if he'd never been gone. She's a daddy's girl and has Tommy wrapped tightly around her finger.

After he came home, most nights he would spend in her bedroom, sitting on the floor, his back to the wall watching her sleep to remind himself he was safe and at home, that he still has something to live for when it gets too much to bare. His little girl is his guiding light. She's the one who pulls him out of the french tunnels when he finds himself back in them. When he's with her and Nora, the noises stop and visions of the dirty walls fade away.

So yeah, she's perfect.

"Are you alright?" He asks turning around in her arms, forgoing the tea he was making.

"I'll be better once Campbell and Grace are gone," she says looking up into his eyes.

"Not much longer now, my love," he tells her, leaning his head forward to press a kiss to hers. "You have my word."

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#acewritesfics repost #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader

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boltlightning · 7 months

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very fond of the way norrington struggles to hold eye contact in these two scenes:

this first scene he's defending his decision to arrest jack to elizabeth, and the second (deleted) scene he's defending his decision to go to isla de muerta to governor swann.

you can see the clear change in tone. the first he's coming off his big fancy ceremony and the adrenaline from his proposal, and arguing with elizabeth against her wishes for her own safety. he's defiant, but could be persuaded, and still willing to hear elizabeth out. and the second, he's devastated by that proposal being accepted, but going along with elizabeth's wishes against his better judgment regarding her safety. he's resigned, anxious to face her father, and doing his best to juggle both their approval in front of an entire ship full of men. he cares so much about what they think! he's so nervous about crossing either of them even if it's for their own good!

consider further that he almost always uses eye contact unflinchingly, even when he's at his worst:

norrington is stuffy, proper, and restrained — but his eyes are so emotional in every scene.

it would've been so easy to write, direct, and act this dude as a classic unrepentant antagonistic inspector guy, but he's human! he's so deeply human! it's agonizing! it's great!

#bolt watches potc #jdav really made this role more than it ever needed to be and then went about his life like it didn't happen #and i'm supposed to be normal about that on a foggy sunday evening in october. ok

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dianawinchester03 · 17 days

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Season 1, Episode 18 - Something Wicked

Series Masterlist

Authors Note: Comment with your handle/username if you want to be added to a tag list so you can be notified everytime I update.

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Third Person POV

"Yeah. Because you guys probably missed something, that's what" Dean says to Sam and Y/N, discussing a possible case as he drives down the empty road. Sam riding shotgun while Y/N lounges in that back. "Dude, we ran LexisNexis, local police records, newspapers. Couldn't find a single red flag" Sam explains to him defensively. "Are you sure you got the coordinates right?" Y/N pipes up from the back, leaning forward in between the boys.

"Yeah. I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. F/N wouldn't have sent coordinates if it wasn't important, guys" Dean assures them. Y/N sighs, leaning back, crossing her arms over her chest as she worries about her father and John. "Well I'm telling you? We looked. All we found was a big, steamy pile of nothing. If Dad and John are sending us to hunt for something, I don't know what" Y/N says defensively.

"Well maybe they'll meet us there" Dean says. Sam chuckles humorlessly as Y/N scoffs. "Yeah. Cuz they've been so easy to find up to this point" Sam says sarcastically. "You two are real smartasses, you know that?" Dean retorts at them. The younger hunters just shake their heads in annoyance. "Don't worry, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing" Dean assures them.

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?" Y/N asks him. "Well, because I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right" He counters, flashing her a wink in the rearview mirror. "No, it doesn't" Sam scoffs. "It totally does" Dean gives them a cheeky smile. "Dean, you're the most childish of the three of us" Y/N says dryly, Sam nods in agreement as Dean chuckles at her point.

"I'm still older" Dean counters again. Sam and Y/N roll their eyes, not bothering to argue. "Whatever man" Sam waves it off as Dean smirks to himself, now passing the sign leading into Fitchburg, Wisconsin.

Fitchburg, Wisconsin

"Well" Y/N says, walking to the boys who're leaning on the Impala outside of a coffee shop. She hands them each a coffee as she continues. "The waitress thinks that the local Freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that, nobodys heard about anything weird going on" She informs them.

"Dean, you got the time?" Sam suddenly asks Dean. We look at him confused as he stares intently at the playground we're parked across from. "Ten after four" Dean responds after looking at his watch. "Why?" Y/N asks Sam. "What's wrong with this picture?" He nods towards the practically empty playground, only a few kids running around and it dawns on her.

"Schools out, isn't it?" Dean voices her thought. "Yeah" Sam responds. "So where is everybody?" I question. "This place should be crawling with kids right now" Sam says in agreement. Y/N and Dean decide to approach a mom sitting on the bench across from the monkey bars. "Sure is quiet out here" Dean says casually. The mom looks up at at, "Yeah, it's a shame." She says sorrowfully.

"Why's that?" Y/N asks curiously. "You know, kids getting sick. It's a terrible thing" She says, me and Dean share a look at this. "How many?" Dean asks. "Just five or six, but serious. Hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching" She informs them. "Hmm" Y/N responds, her mind racing about these kids getting sick.

________________________________

Y/N's POV

Later, the boys and I are walking into the hospital, dressed in our formal wear. The boys in their suit and ties while I'm in my white blouse, black blazer and pencil skirt. My hair neatly pinned back, opposed to its usual state. "Guys, Im not using this ID" Sam complains, holding up his fake ID to us.

"Why not?" Dean asks him. "Because it says 'bikini inspector' on it" Sam argues and I bite back a snicker. "Don't worry. She won't look that close" I assure him. "Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sammy" Dean adds as we walk down the hall, towards the reception desk.

Dean then turns him quickly to face the receptionist. We walk up a bit further, where we can hear them still. "I think she's gonna ask you know" I whisper to Dean. "I'm counting on it" Dean whispers back, a mischievous smirk on his face. I chuckle softly, shaking my head. Sam had a bit of a panicked look on his face but quickly recover. "Hi. I'm Doctor Jerry Kaplan, Center for Disease Control" Sam says professionally.

"Can I see some ID?" The receptionist asks. Me and Dean are listening from not too far and snort in amusement, sharing looks as we hold back our laughs. Sam turns back to glare at us lightly, before turning back to the receptionist and giving her a smug look, going into his jacket back. "Yeah, of course" He says, planting a fake smile on his face. He then shows her the ID quickly.

"Now, could you direct me to the pediatrics ward, please?" He asks him. "Okay, well just go down the hall. Turn left. Up the stairs" She says, Sam gives her a grateful smile before walking back to us. His smile dropping to an angry glare in me and Deans direction. "See? Told you it'd work" Dean says playfully. Sam rolls his eyes as I snicker. "Follow me, it's upstairs" Sam tells us, ushering us upstairs.

While walking upstairs, Sam is ahead of us. Me and Dean notice an old woman with gray hair in a room, sitting on her wheelchair. Her back to us. She slowly turns her head to us, a grim look on her face. My breath hitches when I notice a cross turnt upside down on the wall above her.

I nudge Dean lightly and gesture to it. His eyebrows raised at this, while the woman gives us a cold murderous look. "Dean. Y/N." Sam calls out to us, our gazes snapping back to him. He's a few feet away from us and he gesture for us to catch up with him. We share a look before following behind Sam.

We finally met up with the doctor in charge of the Peds ward. "Thanks for seeing us, Dr. Heidecker" I thank the doctor sweetly. "Well, I'm just glad you guys are here. I was just about to call CDC myself" Dr. Heidecker says. "How'd you find out anyway?" He asks us curiously. "Oh, some G.P. I forget his name. He called Atlanta and must've beat you to the punch" Dean lies casually.

"So you say you've got six cases so far?" Sam asks him as we walk to the room where their quarantining the kids. "Yeah, yeah. Five weeks. At first, we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy" The doctor explains as I look at the sick children on the beds. Their eyes dark with circles, tubes in their noses to help them breathe, paler than snow. My heart aches at the sight.

"But now..." The doctor trails off. "Now what?" I ask him concerned. "The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are wearing out" He explains. "Excuse me, Dr. Heidecker?" A nurse approach him as Sam asks.

"You ever seen anything like this before?" Sam asks as the nurse hands the doctor a clipboard. "Never this severe" Dr. Heidecker says sighing. "The way it spreads, that's a new one for me" The nurse says. "What do you mean?" I ask her. "It works it way through families, but only the children, one sibling after another" She further explains, the boys and I share a look before Dean turns to her.

"You mind if we interview a few of the kids?" He asks her. "They're not conscious" She sighs sadly, this shocks all of us. "None of them?" I ask surprised. "No" She says, shaking her head. "Can we, um. Can we talk to the parents?" Dean asks her. The doctor and nurse share a look, "If you think it'll help" Dr. Heidecker says. "Yeah, yeah. Who was your most recent admission?" I ask him.

"I should get back to my girls" The dad of two little girls says sadly as we attempt interview him. I give him a sympathetic nod with a small smile, taking a seat next to him as the boys stand infront of us. "We understand that, and we really appreciate you talking to us" I say calmly, offering him a kind smile.

"Now you say Mary is the oldest?" Sam asks him gently. "Thirteen" The man answers. "Okay. And she came down with it first, right? And then-" Sam asks him. "Bethany, the next night" The man answers, this shocks me again at the rapid spread-age. "Within 24 hours?" I ask him and he nods. "I guess" He shrugs before sighing.

"Look, I already went through all this with the doctor." The man begins to get a bit frustrated. "Right. Now, just a few more questions, if you don't mind" Dean attempts to reassure him. "How do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold? Anything like that?" He asks the man but he shakes his head. "No, we think it was an open window" The man responds.

"Both times?" I ask him. He thinks for a bit before answering, "The first time, I don't really remember. But the second time, for sure. And I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed." He says. "So you think she opened it?" Sam asks him, a bit confused.

"It's a second story window, no ledge. No one else could've" The man informs us. We nod and thank him for his time before leaving. "Thank you sir" I say sweetly, the boys following behind me.

"You know, this might not be anything supernatural. Might just be pneumonia" Sam suggests to us as we walk down the hall. "Maybe. Or maybe something open that window" Dean says. "I don't know fellas, the way these kids are getting sick so quickly. It's running through families and not by random. It's fishy" I say honestly. Dean agrees with me.

"Dad and F/N sent us down here for a reason. I think we're barking up the right tree" Dean says. "I'll tell you guys one thing" Sam says, we turn to him. "What?" Me and Dean ask in unison. "That guy we just talked to...I'm betting it'll be a while before he goes him" Sam says, a slight smirk on his face. We all share mischievous looks as Dean chuckles lightly.

________________________________

Later, after going through hospital records and getting the man's address, we're all in his daughters room, scanning and investigating. Sam with the black light, Dean and I with the EMF meters. "You two got anything over there?" Sam asks us as he scans the wall with the black light.

"No, nothing" I respond, slightly frustrated. "Nada" Dean responds. "Yeah, me neither" Sam sighs, equally frustrated. He then goes over to the window, scanning it. "Hey, Dean, Y/N?" He calls out to us. "Yeah?" We respond as he opens the window, looking down. "You guys were right. It's not pneumonia" Sam says, we take out EMFS off and walk to the window.

A handprint, that's literally rotted into the wood of the window sill. The fingers were abnormally long. "It's rotted" I point out, grimacing at we look down at it. "What the hell leaves a handprint like that?" Sam mutters. I notice a look of pain on Deans face when Sam says this, almost as if he's reminiscing on something.

Third Person POV

Flashback to the 80s'

In a dusty old motel room while waiting for his father and his fathers best friend/hunting partner, F/N L/N, to get ready to go on a hunt, a nine year old Dean Winchester is staring at a picture his father took on a hunt of a handprint, rotted into wood, the fingers abnormally long.

John and F/N step into the room. "Alright. You know the drill, Dean. Anybody calls, you don't pick up" John begins to list off the rules to his son, his tone a bit gruff. "If it's me or f/n. We'll ring once and then call back, you got that?" John reminds him as F/N rests his bag of weapons on the table.

"Mhm, don't answer the phone unless it rings once first" F/N instructs. "Mhm" Dean responds, nodding a bit lost in his mind. "Come on, son. Look alive this stuffs important" F/N urges him gently, patting him on the shoulder. Dean sighs. "I know, it's just. We've all gone over it, like, a million times, and you guys know I'm not stupid" He says.

"We know you're not, but it only takes one mistake. You got that?" John says, authority in his tone. All the young child could do is nod firmly at his father. F/N notices the way John is talking to Dean and felt a little bad. Getting down onto one knee to look at Dean, "Alright, if we're not back Sunday night-" He begins gently.

"Call Pastor Jim" Dean finishes his request. F/N gives him a proud smile, which Dean returns before patting him on the head. "Lock the door, the windows. Close the shades" John instructs Dean. "And most importantly?" He adds. "Watch out for Sammy and Y/N/N" Dean responds with a curt nod in understand.

He then turns to look at his little brother and y/n. The pair of best friends on the couch, watching Thundercats as they giggle, pointing at the old crummy screen. "I know" Dean nods. "Alright. Something tries to bust in?" F/N tests him.

"Shoot first, ask questions later" Dean answers. "That's my man" John says proudly, patting Dean on his shoulder. "Keep this with you." F/N digs into his bag to Dean a shotgun. "Only use it if necessary" F/N says sternly, pointing a finger at him in a fatherly way. Dean nods curtly. F/N then gets back up, following behind John.

The two vet hunters lock the door behind them and Dean turns the locks. He then looks over at Sam and Y/N who have goofy grins on their faces. He smiles at them slightly, knowing that if Y/N wasn't here, a smile wasn't sure to be on Sam's face as he was always a quiet kid.

But whenever his Dad and F/N went on hunts together and Y/N was around. Somehow with her ray of sunshine ass, she would make the boys happier. Whether it's by cracking a stupid joke or just being herself.

Present Time

"You okay, charming?" Y/N's gentle concerned tone snaps Dean out of his reminiscing. The pained look in Deans face concerned her. She placed a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly. This breaks him out of his train of thoughts, coming back to reality as he just relived that memory. He nods before saying, "I think why they sent us here" He says, a conflicted look on his face.

Y/N and Sam look at him confused. His nerves start to flare when he turns to them. "They've faced this thing before. And they want us to finish the job" Dean gulps as he says this, then after he explains to them what exactly they're dealing with.

________________________________

The three hunters pull into the '2400 Court Motel', Dean drives in and parks in the closest spot to the office. "So what the hell is a Shtriga?" Y/N asks Dean as they all jump off of the car, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "It's kind of like a witch, I think. They don't know that much about them" Dean says, going to the trunk to open it.

"Well I've never heard of it, neither has Y/N and it's not in Dads journal" Sam says. "Dad and F/N hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin about 16, 17 years ago." Dean informs them as he packs some stuff into his bag and zips it up. Y/N crosses her arms over her chest as she listens. "You guys were there. You don't remember?" Dean asks them.

"No" they respond in unison, shaking their heads. "I guess they caught wind of things in Fitchburg now, and kicked us the coordinates" Dean mumbles. "Wait, so this..." Sam begins, forgetting how to pronounce the creature's name. "Shtriga" Y/N answers. "Right. You think it's the same one they hunted before?" Sam asks him. Dean closes the trunk after taking out his bag. "Yeah, maybe" He says, walking to the room.

Y/N and Sam follow behind. "But if Dad and John went after it, why is it still breathing air?" Y/N asks Dean, knowing that John and her dad would never leave a hunt unfinished. "Because it got away" He simply answers. "Got away?" Sam says shocked. "Yeah, Sammy. It happens" Dean turns to them.

"Not very often" Y/N remarks. "Well I don't know what to tell you. Maybe Dad didn't have his Wheaties and F/N didn't take a smoke that morning" Dean says jokingly, Y/N snorts at the joke slightly but narrows her eyes at him. His defense behavior sending off red flags in her head. He knows more that he's letting on and he can't hide that from her.

"What else do you remember?" She asks him suspiciously. "Nothing. I was a kid, alright?" He says defensively, opening the door and walking in. Sam and Y/N share a look, "He's a terrible liar" Sam comments, shaking his head as he leans against the Impala. "No kidding" Y/N snorts dryly, leaning next to Sam.

She pulls out her pack of cigarettes from her jacket, taking one out and bringing it to her lips. Then digging into her pocket for her lighter. She flicks the lighter, inhaling the smoke into her lungs through her mouth and out her nose. A feeling and sensation of calmness engulfing her as the nicotine enters her bloodstream, the taste of tobacco staining her tongue.

She notices Sam's stare at her actions, "Want a pull, Sammy?" She jokes, he smiles chuckling. He contemplates for a second, "Why the hell not?" He shrugs, taking the cancer stick from between her fingers. He brings it to his lips, taking a pull. The smoke gets caught in his throat, causing him cough a bit as he exhales due to the fact that he practically never smokes unless he's drunk.

She snickers at her best friend as he coughs, his face turning red as she pats and rubs his back. Catching his breath, he hands her back the roll. "Note to self, only offer you when you're drunk" Y/N chuckles as Sam catches his breath. "Shut up" He grumbles, a bit embarrassed, but the two laugh about it.

Dean rings the bell at the counter and out comes a young boy, no older than 10 comes out and leans on the counter. "King or queens?" He asks Dean. "Three queens" Dean responds with a smile. The little boy looks out at Sam and Y/N, Sam coughing up a lung and Y/N rubbing his back as he coughs the smoke out.

"Yeah, I bet" The boy scoffs lightly, mumbling to himself. "What'd you say?" Dean realizes the kid was mumbling, getting defensive. "Nice car" The kid covers up his insult as the door opens, a woman walking in with a stack of papers. "Hi" She greets Dean. "Hi" Dean responds. "Checking in?" The woman, Joanna, asks him kindly.

"Yeah" Dean answers. Joanna smiles and then turns to the young boy, "Uh, do me a favor. Go get your brother some dinner" She tells the boy, now indicating it's her son. "I'm helping a guest" The boy says defensively. Dean smirks at the kid as his mother gives him a typical, 'Do what I said' look. "Three queens" The boy says bitterly, walking off as Dean chuckles.

"Funny kid" Dean says. "Oh, yeah. He thinks so" She chuckles as she sorts a room for them. "Will that be cash or credit?" She asks. "Do you take Mastercard?" Dean asks her. "Mmhm" she responds. "Perfect. Here you go" Dean places the card on the table as she hands him the clipboard to sign in.

He then looks over at the young boy and his little brother. The boy begins to pour some milk into a glass for his brother, this takes Dean back to an old memory of his.

Flashback to the 80s'

Dean pours two glasses of milk, handing one to little Sammy and little y/n/n. She takes the glass into her tiny hands, holding it between both her palms, taking a sip along with Sam before innocently asking. "When's daddy and Mr. Winchester gonna get back?". Dean gives her his usual answer as he goes to the stove, grabbing the pan of Scabetti Ohs, "Tomorrow" He tells her. "When?" Sam presses.

"I don't know. They usually come in late, though. Eat your dinner" Dean says as he pours some of the spaghetti into Sam's bowl and then Y/N's. "Thank you, Dean" She thanks him softly, smiling. He returns the smile, "You're welcome" He responds softly. "I'm sick of scabetti ohs" Sam groans as Y/N happily eats up her dinner. "Well, you're the one who wanted them" Dean says a bit frustrated.

"I want Lucky Charms" Sam argues. "There's no more Lucky Charms" Dean lies. "I saw the box" Sam points out. Dean rolls his eyes. "Okay, maybe there is. But there's only enough left for one bowl, and I haven't had any yet" Dean argues. Y/N takes in the banter between the two brothers as she chews contently at her food.

Feeling bad, knowing that Dean probably hadn't eaten all day but won't want to eat the spaghetti. Sam gives his brother his classic puppy dog eyes, the one he uses to get out of any situation or to get his way. Dean sighs and goes to take the bowl of scabetti ohs to throw them away. "Don't throw it away. I'll eat it" Y/N stops him.

He nods, taking up a spoon and gently putting it in her bowl. She mumbles a slight thank you, her head buried in her bowl as she eats before Dean gets the Lucky Charms from the cupboard and a bowl. Resting it harshly down on the table between the two kids, Y/N jumps slightly at the impact, not expecting him to rest it down so hard.

"I'm sorry princess, I didn't mean to scare you" Dean mumbles softly, his tone apologetic. "It's fine, charming" She assured him, a slight blush raising to her chubby cheeks at the nickname Dean has always called her by. Sam picks up the cereal box and reaches into it, taking out the toy, "Do you want the prize?" He smiles innocently, handing his older brother the toy.

After a few hours, Sam is already asleep but Y/N was getting restless, she decides to ask Dean if it's okay for her to go to the vending machine and get a soda. "Hey Dean?" She calls for his attention, Dean turns his head from the couch where his eyes was focused on the tv. "What're you doing up? Go to bed" He orders her gently.

"Can I go for a soda? I know it's late but I can't get much sleep" She says sweetly, hoping she could persuade him. He sighs, narrowing his eyes at her. "It's late, y/n/n" He says firmly, but she pouts, mustering up her puppy dog eyes that she thought Sam to perfect. He shakes his head and gives in,

"Okay okay, just be quick." He instructs her. She smiles widely, cheering. "Yayy! Thank you. I'll be quick" She assured him, grabbing her coat and her 10 dollar bill her dad left her incase, walking out of the room.

After about 15 minutes she got back, a bag in her hand with soda, snacks, Lucky Charms and milk. An excited Y/N closes the door behind her as a worried sick Dean who was pacing around the room whisper yells, "You said you were going to the vending machine!" He whisper yells. "Chill out dude. I got you something" She whispers back, pulling out the Lucky Charms from the plastic bag.

Dean is shocked when she does this, "I got this for you" She smiles, handing him the cereal. "You- what?" He's stunned, staring at the boc in his hand. "Dad leaves me a bit of cash sometimes, just incase we run out. I knew you probably didn't eat all day and wanted the cereal. So I went to the convenience store, which was right across the street next to the arcade before you yell at me, and got you the Lucky Charms" She explains, hoping he isn't mad.

The look in Deans eyes alone, it was almost as if he wanted to cry, the gesture of her just getting the cereal alone made his heart swell. Y/N was too kind and thoughtful to him and Sam. She was a kid herself but still made the best of any situation in anyway she can. He rests the cereal down and leans down to engulf her in a bear hug.

"Thank you, princess" He says gratefully. Her tiny arms wrap around his shoulders as she buries her face into his neck, squeezing him just as tightly. "You're welcome, charming" She says softly, when they let go of the hug, she gives him a toothy smile, her cheeks pink with blush.

"Shhh, don't tell Sammy" She whispers jokingly, putting a finger to her lips. She then puts out her pinky, gesturing for him to swear on it. "I won't" He whispers back, locking his pinky with hers, smiling widely.

Present Time

"Sir?" Joanna's voice snaps Dean out of his reminiscing. "I couldn't get you three queens. We only had two, would that be fine or would you like a room with two queens and separate single with one queen?" She asks him. His eyebrows shoot up at this, "Uh, two queens would be fine" He answers, clearing his throat.

Guess they're gonna have to rock paper scissors to see who gets a bed to themselves. But secretly Dean is hoping he has to share a bed with Y/N. Dean sighs, smirking to himself slightly as Joanna hands him the room key. "Thanks" He says before calling Sam and Y/N in.

"Bad news, someone's gonna have to share a bed" Dean tells them as they walk to the room. They groan in annoyance, "Couldn't you have gotten me a separate room?" Y/N grumbles. "Booked up" He lies, she narrows her eyes at him suspiciously but takes the bait. "Fine, Me and Y/N first and then winner against Dean" Sam puts up his fist to play rock paper scissors against Y/N.

"We're not kids, Sam" Y/N glares at him, he gives her a knowing look. She rolls her eyes and drops her bag, obliging, she puts her fist up. "God please, don't let me share a bed with Sam. He punches in his sleep" She grumbles to herself, causing the boys to laugh. "I do not!" Sam says defensively, she scoffs rolling her eyes.

"I've had black eyes to prove it. Multiple!" She retorts exasperatedly, pointing to her eye, making Dean snort and Sam chuckle. Dean silently prays that Y/N loses. Rock, Paper, Scissors SHOOT. Sam hits paper and Y/N hits rock. She groans in annoyance as Sam celebrates in victory. "Dammit!" She curses. Dean snickers as him and Sam now put their fists up. Rock, Paper, Scissors SHOOT.

Sam hits rock as Dean hits scissors, purposely. "Dean, always with the scissors!" Sam exclaims triumphantly, taking the keys from Dean to open the door. "Guess it's me and you tonight princess" Dean grins at her widely, wiggling his eyebrows at her. He rests an arm around her shoulder as they walk into the room, Sam rests his bag on the bed, arms wide, plopping belly first onto it.

"Don't get any ideas, Winchester. I'll neuter you in your sleep" She joke threatens, pushing him away lightly and his arm off her shoulder. He erupts in laughter at her empty threat. She walks over to their bed and sits on the edge of it, resting her bag on the ground. Sam then opens up his laptop to begin his research along with Y/N taking out hers to get started.

A little later, Sam is nose deep in research about Shritgas, Y/N is falling asleep on herself with a book in her hand on the bed while Dean is making coffee for them. "Well, you were right" Sam says to Dean. Y/N jumps up slightly, the book falling out of her hand, causing the boys to chuckle, "Huh? What?" She says dazed with sleep, drool running down the side of her mouth.

She wipes it off with her sleeve, yawning. "Here. Caffeinate." Dean chuckles, handing her the cup of coffee. She mumbles a soft thank you, taking the warm cup between her palm to heat her body up a bit from the cold air in the chilly room. "What did you find?" She asks Sam, sipping the coffee. "It wasn't very easy to find, but Dean was right. A Shtriga is a kind of witch" He tells them.

"They're Albanian, but legends about them date back to Ancient Rome. They feed off of spiritus vitae" Sam explains, reading from the article on the laptop. "Spirit what?" Dean cocks his eyebrow in confusion. "Vitae. It's Latin. It translates to 'breath of life' " Y/N pipes up using her knowledge on languages, thanks to Bobby. "Yeah, that's right. Kind of like your life force or essence" Sam adds.

"Didn't the doctor say the kids bodies were wearing out?" Dean points out. Sam and Y/N agree. "It's a thought. You know? She takes your vitality, maybe your immunity goes to hell. Pneumonia takes hold" Y/N suggests, "Makes sense." Sam agrees, creasing his lips. "Anyways, Shtriga can feed off anyone. But they prefer-" Sam says.

"Children" Dean finishes his sentence for him. "Man that's just sick" Y/N grimaces in disgust. "Probably because they have stronger life force." Sam suggests. "And get this: Shtriga are invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man" Sam tells them. "So how're we gonna kill the son of a bitch?" Y/N asks.

"That's not right. She's vulnerable when she feeds" Dean says, going into the bag next to Y/N. They look at Dean in confusion at this. "What?" Y/N asks him. "If you catch her while eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron. Buckshots or rounds. I think." He explains to them, unzipping the bag to take out his Dads journal.

"How do you know that?" Sam asks him. "Dad told me. I remember" Dean lies, sitting at the table as he flips through the journal. Y/N picks up on this and cocks her eyebrow at his poor attempt of a coverup as she sips her coffee. Resting it down on the night stand, she asks. "Oh. So uh, anything else John or dad might've mentioned?" Y/N asks him suspiciously.

She leans back on the bed, crossing her arms over her chest as Sam looks at him unconvinced. "No. That's it" Dean says casually. Sam and Y/N share a look and Dean notices this. "What?" He asks them, feigning confusion. "Nothing" Sam dismissing, both him and Y/N shaking their heads. He sighs and closes the tab on the laptop, getting up.

"Okay, so assuming we can kill it when it eats, we still gotta find the thing first. Which ain't gonna be a cakewalk. Shtrigas take on a human disguise when they're not hunting" Sam says as he goes over to the coffee maker to pour some of his own. "What kind of human disguise?" Y/N asks him. "Historically, something innocuous. It could be anything, but it's usually a feeble old woman, which may be how the whole witches as old crimes legend got started" Sam explains.

Deans gaze snaps to Y/N when he says this, his mind going to the old woman they say in the hospital. Y/N's gaze snaps up from the paper she had in her hand of the victims addresses. They look at each other in realization, "Hang on. Take a look at this" Y/N says, getting up from the bed.

She hands Dean the paper. "Check this out. I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are the houses that have been hit so far. And dead center.." She points to the x's she marked on the map, corresponding to the houses of the victims.

"The hospital" Sam says. "The hospital. When we were there, me and Y/N saw a patient, an old woman" Dean points out as Y/N nods. Sam looks at the two, smirking a bit. "An old person, huh?" He asks them. "Yeah" They respond. "In the hospital?" He says in a tone of mock disbelief.

They look at him in annoyance, "Whoo, better call the coast guard" Sam says sarcastically in a mocking tone, chuckling. "Shut up dude!" Dean defends and Y/N rolls her eye. "Well listen, smartass. She had an inverted cross hanging on her wall" Y/N tells him, his smile fading. "Oh, now you're quiet wise ass" Dean rolls his eyes.

________________________________

The three hunters make their way down the hall to the old woman's room. "Goodnight Doctor Heidecker" They hear a nurse greet the doctor, backing into a corner quicker to conceal their presence. "See you tomorrow Betty." He greets her back with a smile. "Try to get some sleep" She says kindly as the victor makes his way past the hunters, not noticing them as their backs are turnt to him.

They make sure the coast is clear before walking back down the hall, toward the old woman's room. They approach room 237, Sam peering his head to look into the little glass opening on the door to make sure there's no one inside but the old woman. Dean and Y/N draw their guns, making sure it's loaded.

Cocking it, they give Sam a nod. Sam slowly opens the door, revealing the old woman in her wheelchair, her back facing them. They creep in lightly, making sure not to be too loud as Sam closes the door gently behind them. Dean and Y/N tiptoe up to the woman while Sam draws his gun. The woman looks to be asleep, so they lean in warily.

When suddenly, she turns her head to them in a rapid motion, "Who the hell are you?!" She yells. Scaring the crap out of all of them, Dean and Y/N jump back into the wall with the inverted cross in shock and fear. "Who's there?!" The woman yells. "You trying to steal my stuff?! They're always stealing around her" She grits her teeth angrily as Sam turns the light on.

"No, uh, ma'am. We're maintenance. We're sorry. We thought you were sleeping" Sam quickly lies, his tone shakily. Dean and Y/N try to catch their breaths. Running their hands over their faces. "Uh, nonsense. I was sleeping with my peepers open" The woman says cackling. "And fix that crucifix, would you?" She says bitterly.

Dean and Y/N's eyebrows cock at this, turning to look at the cross behind them. "I've asked four damn times already" She says angrily, Dean touches the cross and it instantly flips back over into place, dangling on the wall. Sam looks at the both of them in amusement at the situation that just occurred.

________________________________

The Impala pulls into the parking lot of the motel the next morning. Sam exits laughing as Dean and Y/N slam their doors annoyed. "I was sleeping with my peepers open?" Sam quotes the old woman's words, laughing hysterically. "Man, we almost smoked that old gal, I swear" Dean groans. "It's not funny" Y/N grumbles, embarrassed.

Sam still laughs as he opens the motel room door, "Oh man. You should've seen your faces" Sam cackles, wheezing in hysterics. "Oh yeah, laugh it up "We're back to square one" Y/N says as she rolls her eyes. Dean notices the young boy from the motel lobby, Joanne's son, sitting on a bench in the lot looking distraught.

"Hang on" He tells Sam and Y/N, walking over to the clearly worried kid. They follow behind him confused as he gets down, stooping to the boys level, Y/N notices the kid's worried expression and asks, "Hey, what's wrong hun?" She asks him gently. "My brothers sick" He tells them, his eyes watery and red from crying all night.

"The little guy?" Dean asks him shocked. The boy nods. "Pneumonia. He's in the hospital" He tells them, Deans face dropping. Y/N's heart sinks from hearing this. Sam gives the young boy a sympathetic look. "It's my fault" The boy says. "Oh, come on. How?" Dean asks him, feeling sorry for the kid that's blaming himself.

"I should've made sure the window was locked. He wouldn't have gotten pneumonia if the window was latched" The boy sniffles. This rings off bells in all of their heads. They all share a look of suspicion at this. "Listen to me. We can promise you that this isn't your fault sweetie. Okay?" Y/N assures the young boy gently, her tone soft.

He turns to her, teary eyed, "It's my job to look after him." The boy says firmly. Dean can't help but feel a sense of familiarity at the boy's protective nature, he nods understandably, knowing exactly how the boy was feeling. Sam and Y/N notice the look of recognition in Deans eyes.

Joanna exits the motel in a rush with a pillow, hospital bag and teddy bear in her hands "Michael" She calls out to her son. He instantly goes over to her as she opens the Jeep. "I want you to turn on the 'no vacancy' sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service. So don't bother with any of the rooms" Joanna instructs Michael. "I'm going with you" Michael insists

"Not now, Michael" Joanna says exasperated. "But I gotta see Asher" He pleads. "Hey, Michael" Dean cuts in. "Hey, I know how you feel, okay? I'm a big brother too...but you gotta go easy on your mom right now, okay?" Dean advices him gently. "Damn it!" Joanna curses as she drops her bag and keys.

"It's okay, I got it" Y/N says helpfully as she and Sam stoop down to pick up the bag and keys. "Here" Sam says, offering her a small smile, Y/N doing the same. "Thanks" She says gratefully, taking the items. Still shaken a bit by her tone. "Listen, you're in no condition to drive. Why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital?" Dean offers.

"No? I couldn't possibly-" She goes to deny, feeling bad but Dean cuts her off. "No, it's no trouble. I insist" Dean presses. She sighs, nodding as she hands him the keys to her Jeep. "Thanks" She says as Dean takes it before giving her son a kiss on the head. "Be good" She says to Michael, jumping into the passenger seat.

Dean closes the door for her before looking at Michael with sympathy, anguish in his eyes. "We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?" He says firmly to Sam and Y/N before walking off to the drivers side, jumping in and driving off.

________________________________

Sam and Y/N are at the library doing research. Sam is deep in thought as Y/N chews on a granola bar. "This is some dark shit" She sighs as she skims through the dreadful articles. "You're telling me. The mind-fucking shit I'm reading right now. This thing is sick" Sam grimaces in disgust as he reads the research.

"Something's off about Dean, don't you think?" He says, making Y/N's gaze snap over to him from her computer. "Yeah, he's acting weird about this case. Weirder than usual" She says, swallowing the snack. "Maybe it's the kid. He did relate a lot to the fact about being a big brother also" She suggests, shrugging, though not convinced by her suggestion.

"Yeah...maybe" Sam sighs, typing in the computer. She frowns and then digs into her pocket for her phone, the bar in her mouth. She dials Deans number and puts it on speaker, scooting closer to Sam so he can hear. "Hey sweetheart" Dean answers softly. "Hey. How's the kid?" She responds in concern. "He's not good" He tells her, looking back at the sick kid in the hospital room where he's in.

"Where you at?" Dean asks her. "I'm at the library with Sam" She tells him. "Hey. We're trying to find out as much as we can about this Shtriga" Sam now speaks into the phone. "Yeah, what do you guys got?" He asks him. "Well, bad news. I started with- uh. Fort Douglas, around the time you said Dad and Mr. L/N was there" Sam begins to explains.

"And?" Dean asks. "Same deal. Before that, there was uh...There was Ogdenville. Before that, North Haverbrook and Brockway. Every 15 to 20 years it hits a new town" Y/N explains as she chews. "Dean, this thing is just getting started in Fitchburg. In all these other places, it goes on for months, dozens of kids before the Shtriga finally moves on. Kids just languish in comas and then they die" Sam says, his tone sad.

Y/N's heart hurts as they explain all of this to Dean. "How far back does this thing go?" Dean asks, just as hurt by the case. "We don't know. Earliest mention I could find was this place called Black River Falls back in the 1890's" Y/N says, squinting her eyes as she reads the article. "Talk about a horror show" She mumbles, clicking through the pictures of the article.

Sam sees a familiar face when she skips through the pictures of an article saying, 'Doctors Battle Mysterious Ailment'. "Whoa whoa, go back" He straightens himself from his seat. She does so, going back a couple pictures. "Right there" He points out, stopping her. "Holy fuck" Y/N gasps when her eyes land on the familiar face, her mouth agape. Her granola bar slips out of her hand and onto her lap as they stare at the picture.

"No fucking way" Sam gasps, just as shocked. "Sam? Y/N? What's wrong?" Dean asks them. "Hold on, we're looking at a photograph right now of a bunch of doctors standing around a kids bed. One of the doctors is Heidecker" Sam tells him, still in shock. "And?" Dean asks them. "And this picture was taken in 1893" Y/N says, realization dawning on Dean.

"You're sure?" Dean asks them. "Yeah. Yeah, absolutely sure" Sam says. Deans face is stoic as he hangs up the call, turning to the Dr. Heidecker behind him who's caressing Asher's head gently as a concerned Joanna looks on. Heidecker gets up, resting a hand comfortingly on Joanna's shoulder, Deans jaw clenching at the monster infront of him.

"Don't worry. Your sons in good hands. I'm gonna take care of him." Heidecker assures her. "So, what's the CDC come up with so far?" Heidecker asks Dean as he tries to not glare at him and pop him a bullet on sight. "We're still working on a few theories. You'll know something as soon as we do" Dean tells him, trying to remain calm.

"Well, nothings more important to me than these kids. Just let me know if I can help" Heidecker says, leaving the room. "I'll do that" Dean grumbles, clenching his jaw angrily.

________________________________

"We should've thought of this before. A doctors a perfect disguise. You're trusted. You can even control the whole thing" Sam rambles on about the Shtriga, the trio now back in the motel room. Dean grunts in anger, peeling off his jacket. "That son of a bitch" He growls. "Honestly I'm surprised you didn't draw on him right there" Y/N says equally angry, shaking her head.

Dean scoffs, wiping the back of his neck with a towel, "Yeah well, first of all. I'm not gonna open fire in a frigging pediatrics ward" Dean says, tossing the towel aside. "Good call" Sam snorts. "Second, it wouldn't have done any good. This bastards bulletproof unless he's chowing down on something." He adds.

"And third, I wasn't packing, which probably is a really good thing because I probably would've just burned a clip in him off the principle alone" Dean says exasperated. "You're getting wise in your old age, Dean" Y/N commends jokingly. "Damn right" He smirks, flashing her a wink.

"Because now I know how we're gonna get it" He says confidently. The two look at him confused, "What do you mean?" Sam asks. "The Shtriga works through siblings. Right?" Dean asks. "Right" Y/N confirms. "Well, last night-" Dean begins and gives them a look, realization hitting them. "It went after Asher." Sam says. "So you're thinking tonight it's gonna come after Michael" Y/N says and he nods.

"Then we gotta get him out of here" Sam says urgently. "No, that would blow the whole deal" Dean says, they look at him in disbelief. "What?!" Sam exclaims. "Yeah" Dean says. "Then you wanna use that poor kid as bait?" Y/N says baffled. He gives her a look, "Are you nuts, dude?! No. Forget it. That's out of the question" Sam dismisses.

"It's not out of the question, guys. It's the only way. If this thing disappears, it could be years before we get another chance" Dean argues. Y/N glares at him, infuriated at the fact that he'd want to use a kid as bait. "Michael's a kid! And we're not gonna dangle him infront of that thing like a worm on a hook!" Y/N snaps.

"Dad and F/N did not send me here to walk away!" He snaps back. "Send you here? They didn't send you here, they sent us here!" Sam retorts. Dean rolls his eyes, turning away, "This isn't about you two. Alright? I'm the one that screwed up! It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me!" He bellows.

Y/N's face drops at this, still confused as to why Dean is blaming himself. "What are you saying, Dean? Tell us, how is this your fault?" Sam says confused. Y/N notices Dean's swarm of emotions. Guilt, anger, hatred. She moves closer to Dean and places a hand on his shoulder, gently. "Hey, look at us" She says calmly.

He tears his eyes from the window it's focused on, back to her. His expression softening when his eyes bore into hers. "Dean. You've been hiding something from the get-go." She says gently. "Since when do dad and John bail on a hunt? Since when do they let something get away?" Sam adds. She drops her hand from his shoulder lightly as Dean turns, taking a seat on the bed they shared.

"Now, talk to us, man. Tell us what's going on" Her tone is soft, encouraging. She takes a seat next to him. In that moment, Dean allows the dam to break, he spills the beans of that faithful night about his encounter with the Shtriga. "Fort Douglas, Wisconsin" He begins, staring into the distance. "It was the third night in this crap room and I was climbing the walls, man. I needed to get some air."

Flashback to the 80s'

Dean sits at the couch, eating the cereal Y/N got for him, watching his cartoons. He's getting restless after being packed in that room for so long. He sighs, placing the empty bowl next to him on the table and gets up from the couch. He turns off the TV before grabbing his coat and headed over to the door.

He takes one look back at Y/N and Sam who are asleep on the bed in the room. Sam on his back, arms spread out. One of his hands rest ontop of Y/N's face, most likely from accidental punching her in his sleep again. While Y/N is on her side, one hand under her head supporting it, mouth wide open like Sam's. He chuckles as their awkward sleeping position before opening the door, locking it from the outside.

"Kid" A worker in the arcade calls out to Dean who's playing at one of the machines. "We're closing up" He informs him. Dean nods, heading back to the motel room that was next to the arcade. He opens the door and locks it behind him, his heart dropping when he sees an unfamiliar light coming from Sam and Y/N's room.

He gently pushes the door open to see a hooded figure leaning over his sleeping brother, ready to suck the life force out of him. He gulps fearfully, picking up the gun that F/N gave him that was sitting against the doorframe. He aims it at the monster, cocking the gun. It snaps up when it hears the cocking of the gun and lets out a inhumane roar.

Dean hesitates to shoot, still in shock when F/N and John come bursting through the door. "Get out of the way!" John yells at his son, running over to his younger son, shaking him awake as F/N empties his clip into the monster. Dean hides behind the door, still shaken with fear. The monster narrowly escapes through the locked window, breaking the glass when it crashes through it.

The commotion causes Y/N to scream, jumping awake when she hears the sound of glass breaking. "Sammy? Sammy? Sammy?!" John holds his son in his arms. "Y/n/n, y/n/n? Baby, y/n/n!" F/N runs over to his daughter. "Daddy, what happened?" Y/N asks her father shakily, tears welling up in her eyes. "You okay?" John asks Sam who's still confused.

"Dad, what's going on?" He asks his father sleepily. "You alright?" F/N sobs, stroking his little girls hair as she cries into his. All she could do is note. John holds Sam closely as F/N holds Y/N tightly, both sighing in relief at the fact that it didn't get to hurt either of their babies. Dean rests the gun down, guilt etched on his face as he walks back into the room.

"What happened?" F/N asks Dean. "I just went out" Dean timidly tries to explain. "What?" John grits his teeth at his son. "J-just for a second. I'm sorry" Dean stutters, trying to apologize as he swallows the lump in his throat. John glares at Dean angrily, "I told you not to leave this room. I told you not to let them out of your sight!" John bellows.

"Hey hey, they're okay. Y/n/n and Sammy are okay" F/N tries to calm John down a bit but he still glares at Dean. F/N looks over at the young boy, disappointed at the fact that he didn't follow their orders. But is still grateful they made it back in time by the grace of god before anything worse happened.

Present Time

Sam and Y/N take in the story, both sitting on either side of Dean on the bed, speechless at everything he just told them. "They just grabbed us and booked." Dean says as he finishes the story. "Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away. By the time they got back to Fort Douglas, the Shtriga disappeared. It was- it was just gone" He explains, his tone sullen.

He takes a deep breath, "It never resurfaced until now." He says, chuckling dryly. "You know, they never spoke about it again. I didn't ask. But they..." Dean continues, tears welling up in his eyes. Y/N's heart breaks as he talks, a lump forming in his throat from the way this is clearly affecting him.

"Dad looked at me different, you know?" He says, turning to Y/N. "Even your dad, he couldn't look me in the eye, Y/N" He adds. She gives him a sympathetic look, tears welling up in her eyes. He breaks eye contact with her, trying not to cry. "Which was worse. Not that I blamed them. They gave me and order and I didn't listen. I almost got you two killed" Dean blame himself.

"You were just a kid" Sam tries to assure his brother gently. "Don't" Dean says firmly. "Dean..." Y/N says softly, placing a hand on his thigh comfortingly. His gaze falls to her hand, tears threatening to make its way down his cheeks at the comfort just a simple touch from her brings to him. She uses her pointer finger to lift himself face by the dimple below his chin to look at her, his watery emerald eyes piercing hers.

Deans breath hitches in his throat by this gesture. "It's not your fault. We don't blame you. You were a kid. We all were kids, no kid should have that kind of responsibility" Y/N assures him, her tone gentle. "It's still my job. It's my job to protect you two. And I failed" Deans voice cracks at this, Sam and Y/N shake their heads. "We're here, aren't we?" Sam adds, offering Dean a small smile.

"They knew this was unfinished business for me. They sent me here to finish it" Dean clears his throat. "But using Michael. I don't know, Dean" Sam says unsure. "I mean, how about one of us hides under the cover, you know? We'll be the bait." Y/N suggests. Dean sighs, shaking his head. "No, it won't work. It's gonna get close enough to feed. It'll see us" He tells them.

They both sigh in defeat. "Believe me, I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid" Dean says. He takes Y/N's hand that's still resting on his thigh and gently places it down next to her, getting up. His back turnt to them, a pure look of pain and anguish on his face as he recalls the events of that night, over and over in his head.

________________________________

"You're all crazy! Just go away or I'm calling the cops!" Michael yells at them terrified while clutching the landline at the counter after they explained the Shtriga situation to the kid. "Hang on a second. Just listen to me. You have to believe me, okay?" Dean pleads with the young boy. "This thing came through the window, and it attacked your brother." Dean continues, but Michael still hesitates.

"Now I've seen it. I know what it looks like, because it attacked my brother once too" He further explains. Michael then puts the phone down, still a bit on edge but it seems to have eased his mind a bit. "This thing, is it like, like...? It had this long, black robe?" Michael asks them.

Deans breath hitches. "You saw it last night, didn't you?" Y/N asks him gently. Michael looks down in horror. "I thought I was having a nightmare" He admits. Dean and Y/N share a look at this, "I'd give anything not to tell you this...but sometimes nightmares are real" Dean tells him.

Michael looks confused, "So, why are you telling me?" He asks the three hunters. "Because we need your help" Dean admits. "My help?" Michael asks them. "We can kill it, me and them, it's what we do. But we can't do it without you" Dean explains, gesturing to Sam and Y/N. "What? No" Michael stutters fearfully.

"Sweetie, listen to me. This thing hurt Asher and it's gonna keep hurting kids unless we stop it. Do you understand me?" Y/N chimes in, giving the boy a sympathetic look.

"Well, that went crappy" Dean groans after Michael said no to helping them. The three now back in their room. "Now what?" He asks Sam and Y/N. Sam sitting on his bed and DY/N sitting on theirs, absolutely stumped. "What did your expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid" Sam scoffs.

That's when they hear a knocking on the door, Y/N moves over to open it, revealing Michael. Sam and Dean stand behind her, surprised to see the young boy, "If you kill it, will Asher get better?" He asks them. Y/N looks back at Sam and Dean. "Honestly hun, we don't know" Y/N says truthfully.

Michael then looks over to Dean, "You said you're a big brother?" He asks him. Dean steps forward, next to Y/N. "Yeah" He answers. "You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?" Michael asks him. Dean nods, "Yeah, I would" He admits, his tone heartfelt. Y/N look back at Sam with a smile, Sams expression mirroring Y/N one.

"Me too" Michael says. "I'll help" He obliges.

________________________________

Later that night, Dean is setting up a camera in Michaels room that's synced to Y/N's laptop to catch the Shritga in action. "This camera has night vision, so we'll be able to see as clear as day. Are we good?" He calls out to Y/N to confirm. "Hair to the right" She responds for him to shift it a bit which he does.

"There, there" Sam stops him so it's angled directly at Michael's bed. "What do I do?" Michael asks Dean, "Just stay under the covers" Dean advices him, taking a seat next to him on the bed. "And if it shows up?" He asks him. "Well, we'll be right in the next room. We're gonna come in with guns. So as soon as we do, you roll off this bed and you crawl under it" Dean instructs him.

"What if you shoot me?" Michael questions a bit worried. "We won't shoot you. We're good shots. We're not gonna fire until you're clear, okay?" Dean assures him. Michael nods and pulls the covers closer, "Have you heard a gunshot before?" Dean asks him. "Like in the movies?" Michael queries. Dean sighs, "It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. So I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears and do not come out until o we say so, you understand?" Dean informs him.

Michael still looks hesitant and terrified, "Michael, are you sure you wanna do this? You don't have to, it's okay I won't be mad" He asks the young timid child, "No? I'm okay. Just don't shoot me" Michael says. "We're not gonna let anything happen to you. Promise" Dean ensures him.

"What time is it?" Dean asks as they look at the live surveillance from Michaels room. Y/N checks her watch. "It's three" She tells him. "You sure these iron rounds are gonna work?" Sam asks him. "Consecrated iron rounds. And, yeah, it's what F/N used last time" Dean tells him. "Hey Dean, I'm sorry" Sam apologizes sincerely.

Dean looks at him confused, "For what?" He questions. Sam sighs, "you know, I've really given you a lot of crap for always following Dad and F/N's orders. But I know why you do it" Sam says in a heartfelt tone. "Oh, God. Kill me now" Dean groans, making Y/N and Sam chuckle. "Such a beautiful moment, we should totally have a sleep over and braid Sams hair after this" Y/N says in a high girly tone to lighten the mood, the two other hunters chuckle at her humor.

Her eyes snap to the screen when she sees a bit of movement on it, her expression switching to a serious one. "Wait, look" She whispers. The boys look closely at the screen to see a claw like hand sliding the window open. They all draw their weapons, cocking their guns.

While a terrified Michael sits at the bed, wide awake as the hooded figure looms over him. "Now?" Sam asks for the signal. "Not yet" Dean says. The figure moves closer to Michael as they look on, the video footage then begins to distort. Michael cringes in horror as it moves closer to suck the life force out of him.

"Hey!" Sam yells as the three burst into the room. "Michael, down!" Dean instructs him loudly, Michael then dives below the bed. As he does this, the three hunters then begin to empty their clips into the Shtriga. It falls to the ground and let's out an inhumane growl of pain. "Hun, you alright?" Y/N asks him. "Yeah" He responds shakily from under the bed.

"Just sit tight" Dean instructs him, moving over to the Shtriga. Sam and Y/N follow behind, aiming their guns at him to make sure he's dead. He seems to be so Dean turns back to them and nods. When suddenly the Shtriga grabs Dean by his throat in a flash. "Dean!" Sam and Y/N yell in panic as the Shtriga launches Dean into the wall.

They go to shoot again but it knocks their guns away and throws them both into the wall behind them. It strangles them both, opening Sams mouth to begin to suck his life force out. Sam begins to go weak as Y/N squirms underneath him, gasping for air. "No!!!" She screams, trying to get out from him but he's too strong. She tries to reach for her gun but it's too far away.

"Hey!" Dean calls out for the Shtriga. It turns to Dean as it's sucking Sams life force, with that Dean shoots it point blank in the forehead. Killing it for good this time. "You okay, guys?" He asks them. They both give him a weak thumbs up, getting up onto their feet. They look over the now dead Shtriga, white mist coming out of its bullet wound. Dean shoots him a couple more times for good measure.

This allows even more mist to swarm out of its body, the mist being the life force of the other kids it sucked out of. Michael then peeps out from under the bed. "It's okay, Michael. You can come on out" Dean tells him, he then gets up, a small smile on his face at the fact that it's over. And his brother will be okay. Dean pats his shoulder happily, a smile on his face.

________________________________

After the hunt, they were all exhausted. They decided to catch a couple of hours before hitting the road. The sun is beginning to rise in their room, the rays peeping through the window shades and onto Sams face. His eyes flutter open, groaning from the sunlight burning his eyes. He pushes himself up from his bed and throws his blanket off of him.

Then raking a hand through his bed head as he yawns, a smile creeps onto his face when he takes a look over at Dean and Y/N's bed. Deans arm was draped around Y/N's waist, his other hand under his head to support it. His nose nuzzled into the back of her hair at her neck while he back to pressed against his chest in a spooning position. One of Y/N's hand was dangling off the bed while her other hand rested right above Deans hand that was draped around her waist.

Sam had to stop himself from audibly cheering at the sight. So to savor the moment, he quickly takes his phone out to snap a picture at the cute moment, so he can tease them about it later on. He gets up from his bed and begins packing. A couple minutes later, Dean begins to stir in his sleep. He practically shoots up when he notices his position. Sam, who was basically giggling at Deans reaction as he folds his clothes.

This causes Deans gaze to snap over to his annoying little brother, "Not a word out of you, you hear me?" Dean grits his teeth, pointing at Sam. Who's still giggling. "I didn't say anything" Sam puts his hand up in surrender. Dean rolls his eyes but then freezes when he feels a shift in his pants. "Oh fuck" His mouth agape as he stares at his gaping erection tenting through his grey sweatpants.

"Son of a bitch....Son of a bitch!" He peels himself from the bed and dashes into the bathroom while covering his crotch with a towel. When the cold shower turns on, the pressure harder than usual, Sam realizes what's going on and snorts loudly. His eyes tearing from from laughter. "Don't take too long in there stud, she might think you're-" Sam teases his older brother.

"Shut the fuck up, Sam!" Dean yells embarrassed from the bathroom. This causes Y/N to stir in her sleep at their loud banter. "Man, what the hell are you two idiots yelling about this early?" She groans in annoyance, taking Deans pillow and stuffing it over her head. She's not aware of the situation that just played out, due to the fact she's very grouchy in the morning.

"Get your ass up sleeping ugly, we gotta go" Sam teases her, tossing a pillow at her head. It bounces off and onto the floor. "Ughhhh, five more minutes!" She groans childishly. Sam chuckles at this as Y/N forces herself off the bed, sleepily rubbing her tired eyes with her fingers. Dean exits the bathroom, a towel around his waist since he forgot to carry his clothes inside.

A blush rises to Y/N's cheeks at the sight of a shirtless Dean but she clears her throat. "What time is it?" She asks them. "After lunch" Dean informs her, looking down at his watch. She then sighs and grabs her towel from her bag to make her way lazily to the bathroom. When the shower turns her, she allows herself to smile.

She's always seen Dean shirtless but these past few weeks, since she admitted to herself that she has feelings for him. It's just been different, she felt more drawn to him. She can't explain it but she continues to tell herself to get her shit in check because she's not gonna allow her feelings to mess up their mission. Find the thing that killed their moms and kill it. Sounds easy enough. Right?

Meanwhile Sam is giving Dean a smug look as he puts his clothes on, "Seriously dude, stop looking at me like that" Dean groans as he slips his shirt on. "I never said anything man" Sam chuckles as he finishes packing his stuff. Dean rolls his eyes, "You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?" He narrows his eyes at his little brother as a laces his shoe up, smirk on Sams face as he throws his bag over his shoulder. "Nope" Sam responds, popping the 'p' at the end sassily.

________________________________

After they finished packing, the three hunters are putting their stuff in the trunk when Dean notices Joanna outside. "Hey, Joanna. How's Asher doing?" He asks her concerned. "Have you seen Michael?" She asks them. "Mom! Mom!" Michael calls out to his mom, running to hug her. "Hey!" Joanna smiles when she sees her son, wrapping her arms around him.

"How's Ash?" Michael asks her as they let go of the hug. "Got some good news. You're brothers gonna be fine" She tells him happily. This makes Sam, Dean and Y/N let out a breath of relief. "Really?" Michael asks surprised and happy. "Yeah, really. No one can explain it. It's- it's a miracle." She explains as the three hunters share a look of relief.

"They're gonna keep him overnight, but after that, he's coming home" She tells them. "That's great" Dean says. "How are the other kids doing?" Sam asks. "Good. Real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr. Travis says the wards gonna be like a ghost town" She informs them happily.

"Dr. Travis? What about Dr. Heidecker?" Y/N asks, feigning confusion. "Oh, he wasn't in today. Must have been sick or something" Joanne assumes. "Yeah, must have" Dean days vaguely. She then turns to her son, running a hand through his hair. "So, did anything happen while I was gone?" She asks him.

Michael has a slight guilty look on his face but covers it up, "No, same old stuff" He assures her. "Okay. You can go see Ash" She tells him. "Now?" He asks happily. "Only if you want to" Joanna says. He smiles at Dean who nods at him with a smile, he then runs over to their car and hops in. "I uh, better get going before he hotwires the car and drives himself" Joanna jokes before going over to the car, parting ways with them.

They all sigh as Dean closes the trunk. "It's too bad" Sam says. "Oh, they'll be fine" Dean assured him. "I don't think that's what he meant" Y/N says, leaning against baby. "Yeah. I meant Michael. He'll always know there are things out there in the dark. He'll never be the same, you know?" Sam scoffs as Y/N nods in agreement.

Dean doesn't know how to answer this, "Sometimes I wish that..." Y/N begins but trails off sighing. "What?" Dean asks her. "I wish we could have that kind of innocence" Y/N says honestly, looking into Deans eyes. His heart skips a beat, breaking at the thought as he looks on at Joanna's car driving away.

"Yeah, me too" Sam agrees, sighing. "If it means anything, sometimes I wish you two could've too" Dean admits sadly, jumping into Baby. Sam and Y/N file in behind as Dean starts the ignition and backs out of the motel lot to hit the road and face whatever God decides to throw their way.

________________________________

Authors Note: Hope you guys enjoyed this episode! I made it longer since I took long a while to write it. A shit ton of stuff has been going on and I've been trying to update because I find pure joy in writing this. So whoever is reading, thank you for being patient and I will try my best to work through everything and update as soon as possible. This chapter is unedited but I will come back to fix it soon enough.

Stay safe my beauties😘And remember that Sam, Dean and Y/N loves every single one of you the way I do🫶

Xoxo

#dean winchester #sam winchester #spn #supernatural #dean and sam #sam and dean #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural series rewrite

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portlandrowismyhome · 11 months

Text

Borrowed Time: Chapter One

A little fanfic I got suckered into writing by @the-biscuit-agreement ‘s incredible prompt. Huge thanks to @lemonsharks and @oceanspray5 ‘s additional ideas.

This is that Lockwood and co serial killer prompt…

Tag list (or interest list for those who showed interest in the prompt. If you aren’t interested in the fic no worries): (also my Lockwood friends in general): @neewtmas @givemea-dam-break @thedonutdeliverygirl @ikeasupremacy @wellgoslowly @edmundlockwood @narnianweirdos @tangledinlove @so-true-jestie @oblivious-idiot @paysomeonetopaysomeone @peachesanddandelions @myownpainintheass @sadwinistic @almostlikequake @saelterlude @fandomscraziness22 @everythingwillend @uku-lelevillain @atlabeth @carlyleons @smol-being-of-light @losticaruss @superpositvecloudshipper @totally-not-an-npc @paranorahjones @malteevars-kee-devi @teaandtoastandthyme @jesslockwood @krash-and-co @lucy-j-carlyle

Please note this is a sideblog and all replies will come from @waitingforthesunrise

This takes place four months after The Hollow Boy: Lucy is an independent agent who starts investigating the wrong case, and Lockwood has always been living on borrowed time…

Warnings: mild language, general pain, angst, suggested injury, death, car accident, hint at torture, threats, hurt/very little comfort (yet). I’m so sorry, guys…

“Miss Carlyle.” Inspector Barnes sighed, flipping over the newspapers strewn across his desk. “Trust me. This is a case to let go.”

“What cases do we let go, Inspector?” Lucy leaned forward. “We’re agents. Getting to the bottoms of things is what we do.”

“And DEPRAC’s job is to make sure that’s the only thing you go to the bottom of,” Barnes said. “Miss Caryle, you have almost no evidence. You have no team. You certainly have no proof. There’s nothing here, and frankly this will only cause you danger I’m unable to help you with.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Lucy snapped. “You called me here.”

Barnes rubbed a hand across his jaw. Lucy stared stubbornly at his desk. They were sitting in his office; well-lit, clean, and smelling strongly of chemical cleaner. Lucy clenched her jaw, determined not to lose the silent battle. She was so tired — Barnes had called her and left no choice but to return to his office immediately after work. And now she was sitting here in front of his desk, wasting time…she could be eating breakfast, or in a warm shower…the hot water cascading over her tired shoulders….

But the water was shut off due to a leak at her apartment, and there would be now arm breakfast or inviting smells awaiting her. Only crusty dishes and a sulking skull.

It had been four months since Lucy had left Portland Row.

Barnes cleared his throat. “Let me make sure I understand. You first took the case from a Miss Helen Younge, correct?”

Lucy nodded. Miss Younge had been young no longer when they had met; the whispery, frail old lady worked at the take-out shop where Lucy often bought doughnuts. Miss Younge often showed Lucy pictures of her cats, but that had been the extent of their interactions until the day the old woman had seized Lucy’s wrist over the cash register and whispered, you’re an agent, aren’t you? Oh, I’m in such trouble…

Barnes studied a notebook. “She offered to pay you?”

“Of course. I am an independent agent. But it was more…”

“A favor?”

Lucy nodded. “She’s an old woman working at a bakeshop, Inspector. She could never pay for a Fittes or Rotwell team.” She didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in her voice; who knew how many nights Miss Younge and others like her had spent, anxious and afraid of things they were unable to see, knowing an inspection alone would cost them precious food?

If Barnes noticed it, he didn’t let on. “Surely you didn’t inspect the property at night?” He squinted at the paper. “An apartment building, nonetheless.”

“Of course not. I did it in daylight. But…” Lucy hesitated. “I thought it would be just a weak Type One, an old person’s death or something, but…”

“Yes?”

“There was a strange whispering.”

“Miss Carlyle, you are a Listener, and sources do have a habit —“

“I found the Source, sir. It was just a simple Type One and gave almost no trouble. But I don’t think it’s the only ghost there. There’s something else, maybe more than just one.”

Lucy paused, remembering the sticky brush of a spiderweb against her face, the quick rush of cool air, the sudden suspension of time.

“It says here,” Barnes said, “you ‘found yourself stuck in a time-loop.’ You have no idea when it could be from, or what it’s stemming from. You’re convinced it’s connected to the Type One, but that it’s not the cause.”

“Exactly.” Lucy eagerly leaned forward. “The voice, it kept saying the same thing, over and over—”

“— help me, I’m dying, he took care of you, so now you’ll kill me too,” Barnes finished in a bored tone. “Very concise for a ghost.”

Lucy brushed off his skepticism. “Of course there was more, that’s just what was clear — Inspector, this ghost was murdered. Maybe Miss Younge’s Type One, too.”

“Wouldn’t it have been a bit stronger, then?”

“Not if it was a miserable, elderly person living alone in an apartment complex with a cat and a bottle of pain pills. Those are a dime a dozen, Inspector. The person might not even know they were murdered. Not until it was too late.”

Barnes groaned. “You have the Source, don’t you.”

“Not on me,” said Lucy. She did. It was in her knapsack, securely sealed in iro; a small, initialed pocketknife.

“Miss Carlyle—”

Lucy hurriedly shuffled through her knapsack, and held out a stack of papers. “Look, Inspector, I found these in the library — it’s a murder case, I’m sure, I think this might lead to the victim, an unnamed body — the Source gets clearer every time I listen to it—”

“Miss Carlyle!” Barnes brought his hand down on the table. “I don’t have time for this. DEPRAC can’t keep you off the case, but consider this a warning. Whatever happens after this is on you. And —“

The door banged open. Lucy looked up to see an ashen-faced assistant gabbling into a hand-held receiver.

“Sir!” The assistant said. “Sir, it’s urgent…there’s been an accident outside, a body…”

Barnes jumped to his feet and hurried out the door, and Lucy, after hesitating for a moment, followed.

Clouds were gathering in the sky overhead; the air smelled like rain. A cool breeze tugged at Lucy’s hair as she hurried down the steps after Inspector Barnes and towards the knot of people gathered near the road.

“They said it was a green van,” the assistant said. “Just barreled through and drove off…”

Voices rose excitedly from the gawking group. “Came right out of nowhere, he did…just slammed into the poor thing…never had a chance….”

“DEPRAC Inspector!” Barnes roared. “Stand back!”

The crowd drew apart, and Lucy had a clear view of the blood streaked face staring empty-eyed at the sky.

It was Miss Younge.

There was a blur of ambulances and shouting and the passerby offering eager comments. Lucy couldn’t look away from the sightless eyes and crumpled cardigan of the old woman. Her head pounded; it couldn’t be real, couldn’t be happening. Miss Younge had given her a sandwich only that morning! The blood spattered across the pavement…

Barnes tried to steer her towards the steps, but she caught his sleeve.

“Miss Carlyle —“

“Inspector.” Her voice was ragged even in her own ears. “Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? This is proof! She must have been coming here to tell me something, she must have found something out! She was murdered, I —“

“Lucy,” Barnes said gently. “There’s been an accident. I understand you’re distraught. Go home, get some sleep.”

“Don’t you get it? This isn’t an accident, this is murder!”

Barnes glanced at the crowd, the assistant waiting nervously, the flashing lights of the screeching ambulance. “This was an accident, Miss Caryle. You’re conjecturing —“

“No!” Lucy stumbled back. “No, it wasn’t.”

An official approached, holding a clipboard. “Inspector, if you’d step this way…”

Barnes looks down at the paper, and when he looked up, Lucy Caryle was gone.

He swore under his breath.

Lucy paused in front of Miss Younge’s apartment building, breathless. She had run all the way from DEPRAC headquarters, rapier digging mercilessly into her hip, stopping only at her apartment to retrieve the skull. Lucy would rather have died on a bed of hot coals than admit it out loud, but she felt safer with it at her side. She bent over, gasping.

The skull groaned from inside her knapsack. “You know, I said that all that greasy food would slow you down. But did you listen? No, of course not. Why listen to your friends? Oh wait…” It cackled. “You only have one!”

“Shut up,” Lucy said abruptly. She was digging in her pockets for the key Miss Younge had given her. The key she had been going to return today….

But there was no time for that. She needed to focus, keep her mind clear. Find any clues before DEPRAC took over. She bounded up the stairs, skull complaining loudly in her ear. Hurry, hurry, hurry…

The door was unlocked.

Lucy tapped it hesitantly and it creaked slowly open.

“Put me down!” The skull complained. “I can’t see a thing!”

Lucy slid the jar out of the bag and set it in the corner. The room was dark and musty; a few half-empty bookshelves, a stained quilt covered the sagging bed…and that strange muttering whisper in her ear sending shivers up her skin…

Something warm and furry brushed against her leg and she almost jumped out of her skin.

“Skull! You could have warned me.”

“Oh, because that’s my job now? You haven’t even apologized for this morning, and you expect me to hand out my exceptional services for free? Besides, it’s only a cat.”

The orange cat meowed hesitantly, and Lucy bent down to brush its back.

“God, no,” the skull said. “Lucy…I see what you’re thinking, Lucy, and the answer is no!”

“We have to take it.” Lucy straightened up and began to examine the dusty bookshelves. “Miss Younge won’t be coming back.”

“It’s a cat. Cats live like the little demons they are. ARGH! It’s coming closer, Lucy, make it stop, it’s so ugly…”

A sharp riiiing cut through the skull’s moans. Lucy jumped, glancing at the phone. Just a call. Probably some elderly friend, looking for a chat. And she’d have to tell them…

She picked up the receiver. “Hello, I—“

“Hello, Lucy Carlyle.” The voice was smooth; slippery, sharp, and entirely unfamiliar. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you. Might I add how beautiful you look this morning?”

Lucy froze. “Who is this?”

“A businessman. Looking for a deal.”

Lucy shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t my number.”

“Oh, no. It’s your location. But why leave a message when I can reach you like this? I knew you’d come for the cat, anyway.”

The sounds of the skull arguing faded away. “What did you say?”

“Look, darling. You’ve had a good run. A good case. Why, if you go home now, you’ll even find a little payment on the doorstep.”

“A payment for what?”

“Dropping the case, of course.” The voice was like silk. “And never speaking about it to DEPRAC again. We wouldn’t want to bother our silly little head about it, would we?”

“I’m not dropping the case!”

“Oh?”

Lucy scrambled for time, a cold weight in the pit of her stomach. “So you know something? Miss Younge was murdered?”

“Oh, Miss Younge.” The man made a disgusted noise. “She was small and unimportant.”

“The Type One, then?”

“No, my dear. This is about Lockwood.”

Four months. Four months. And her world still reeled at the sound of his name.

Lucy swallowed. “What does Lockwood have to do with this?”

“What doesn’t he have to do with this is a better question. Everything about you traces back to him eventually, doesn’t it? But it’s simple: you bury the case or I bury the boy. After I’ve had some fun, of course…And come on, Lucy. We both know catching him wouldn’t be the hard part.”

“I—”

“You need to drop this while I still have the restraint for it. Think how hard it will be for me to stop after I’ve heard him beg like you have. The boy’s practically screaming for someone to end his misery already, and trust me — when I’m done, he will be. And I’m sure you saw that last case put him in the hospital for three days…No, our Locky’s been looking for death a long time…”

Lucy’s ears were ringing, her nose full of the heavy must of dust and cat. “I—“

“Good day, darling,” the voice said, and hung up.

Lucy clenched the receiver, staring at the faded wallpaper. Her knees were shaking. God, he was right. That hospital visit. A broken leg. She had scanned the papers every day for news of Lockwood, hoping she wouldn’t find a death announcement, hating herself for it every time…

The skull was making horrific faces at the cat, which was inching closer. The skull yelped as Lucy swept it into the bag and bundled the cat in her arms.

“What kind of treatment is this, huh? And we’re going home, I hope…”

“We’re going to find Lockwood,” Lucy said briefly. “Before it’s too late.”

Lucy didn’t bother with the bell or the iron line. She threw herself at the door, hammering at the wood, a horrific panic clutching her heart. The voice had seemed so sure, so certain. She had imagined her re-entry to Portland Row many times; in one particularly gratifying scenario, Lockwood had been on his knees begging her, the hugely successful businesswomen, to save his beloved house. And now it was her begging for entry…she kicked the thoughts aside and hit the door with her foot.

The door swung open unexpectedly and she fell into the dark hallway. George was staring at her, eyes round from behind his glasses, a rapier in his hand.

“Lucy?” He said blankly.

“George,” Lucy gasped, the cat leaping from her arms. She brushed her hair back with a sweaty palm. “Is Lockwood here? Hurry, please, I need to see him!!”

Holly appeared over George’s shoulder, wrapped in an elegant coat. “Oh, it’s Lucy! And she’s brought us a cat!”

“Please!” Lucy pushed past them towards the library. “Where is he? Lockwood!”

“Oh, Lucy,” Holly whispered.

Lucy paused, the quiet house settling over her like a heavy weight. For the first time she noticed George and Holly’s coats and hats, rapiers strapped to their waists.

“We were just going to find you,” said Holly.

Lucy swallowed. “I..”

George heaved a sigh. “Lucy, Lockwood’s been missing for two days.”

The world was spinning again.

Lucy felt a hand on her elbow, and Holly guided her into a chair. “Hurry, George, put on some tea, she’s probably frozen…oh, I’m so sorry…”

George made a disgruntled noise. “She still hasn’t said what she’s doing here.”

“I got a phone call,” Lucy said numbly. “About Lockwood. There’s this case — it was a warning, and I …Oh, my word.”

Holly set down a mug. “We were just going to look for you. We thought, maybe…”

“He wasn’t with me,” Lucy said.

They all jumped at the shrill ring of the phone. The sound sliced through Lucy with a cold recognition. She rose.

“I’m alright, Holly, really. I — I need to answer that call.”

“You don’t even work here!” George said, following her into the hall. “It’s not your job!”

“You never answered them even when it was your job,” she shot back. “And this one will be for me.”

The receiver was cool in her hands. She stared at the dark bookshelves, breathing in the familiar smell of Portland Row. “Hello?”

Silence.

Hope filled her. Maybe it was just a wrong number — a grocery order —

“Hello, darling,” the voice said, a soft chuckle hiding in it’s voice. “What a pleasure to hear your voice again.”

“Wish I could say the same for you.”

“My, my. Sass this early in the day? Did your little pals miss you?”

She gripped the receiver. “Where is he?”

“Where is he? But you’ve guessed that, haven’t you, Lucy Caryle? Best Listener in London. Head like that on your shoulders. You know where he is.”

“I swear if you’ve hurt him,” she whispered. “It will be the last thing you ever do, do you hear me? I swear—“

“Oh, Lucy,” the voice crooned. “If I hurt him? You should be begging me for a little mercy.” He sighed. “What would you have guessed? DEPRAC arrived at the apartment only five minutes after you and started a Source sweep with a double team. Your Mister Barnes trusted you a little more than you thought. But that’s besides the point…”

“I don’t know you have him,” Lucy said. Geroge’s worried face loomed in her vision, Holly right behind him, hands clasped under her chin. “You could be lying.”

“I could.” The voice hummed lightly. “How would you like me to prove it to you? His voice saying your name? A handkerchief?”

Her stomach clenched. “A recording. A piece of fabric. Could have gotten them anywhere.”

“True,” it mused. “What about a finger? You’ve stared at his hands enough; you’d know them anywhere, wouldn’t you?”

“I—“

“Or his ring? The one you thought you might wear on your finger one day.” It chuckled. “Still time for that. At his funeral, maybe —“

“Where is he,” Lucy spat into the phone. “Where is he, you stupid bastard!?”

“Now, now,” the voice tsked. “I’m not cruel. Why don’t I just put him on the phone? Be a good girl and listen to his demands, now.”

Lucy’s stomach dropped at the familiar voice over the phone.

“Luce,” Lockwood said warmly. “It’s been a while!”

“My word, Lockwood,” she said faintly. It was him, really him; his voice and his nickname for her… “What are you doing?”

“A spot of business. Quite nice, really.”

She could hear the rough edges in his voice now, the little gasps on the end of his sentences, like the air was whistling through his lungs.

“Lockwood,I—”

“It’s so good to hear your voice again, Luce; you have no idea. Wish you could have popped round for some tea the other day, though. George made your favorite.”

“Lockwood!”

His voice was weary when he spoke again. “Yes, Luce?”

She turned away from the others. “What’s going on, Lockwood? They couldn’t find you — I was so worried — where are you? Where do I need to go? I’ll come and I’ll —“

“Not to worry,” Lockwood said cheerfully, but it sounded forced, as though he was saying it through clenched teeth. “I’ve got it all handled, Luce. Everything’s under control. You’re not running yourself to the ground over me, are you, Luce? Get some rest and take care, you hear me? And stay at Portland Row as long as you like. Oh, and tell Holly that I broke one of her pink teacups the other day. She can order a new set. My apologies.”

Lucy’s gaze rose to meet Holly’s horrified eyes. “Lockwood!” She spat, trying desperately to keep the panic from her voice. “Tell me where you are, I swear — dear God, Lockwood, this isn’t a joke—”

“Isn’t it? That reminds me: I heard a particularly good one the other day, I made a note to tell you…” Lockwood hissed sharply. “Ah. Oh, that’s better.” There was a sliding sound. “Just needed to sit down.”

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” Lucy knew she was babbling. “Lockwood, please, please—”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s okay, Luce.” Lockwood’s voice was perfectly calm, with only a slight tremor to remind her they weren’t sitting across from each other at the breakfast table. “I promise.”

“No!” She gasped for breath. “No, you swore you would never lie to me again, Lockwood — you swore—”

“Lucy!” Lockwood chuckled, but inhaled sharply as though it pained him. “I’m taking care of a brief issue. It’s business as usual.”

“No, Lockwood, it’s not! Just tell me, please, please—”

“I’ve spent my life feeling like a weapon,” Lockwood said quietly, his voice echoing over the phone. “Always living on borrowed time. I never could tell if the weapon was pointed at myself or at others. But I’ll make damn sure it isn’t pointed at you.”

A ragged sob caught in Lucy’s throat. It wasn’t real. She’d wake up tomorrow, in her own bed, and Lockwood would still be an annoying prick who lived nearby, and she would have a chance to fix everything. It couldn’t end like this.

And here she was, already acting as though it was the end.

“No,” she whispered into the phone, her voice growing louder. “No! NO. DAMN YOU, LOCKWOOD, YOU ANNOYING BASTARD — JUST TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE, YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE, I WON’T LET YOU, I—“

“Listen to me, Lucy,” Lockwood said, his voice suddenly urgent. She broke off, sobbing for breath. His voice was quick and direct, like they were on a case together. “Take the Source. Listen exactly to what it says, and then tell Barnes. Okay? And then take it to the furnaces and burn it. Understood? You’ll be alright. Everything’s under control.”

“No,I—”

“One last thing,” said Lockwood, his voice shaking just a little. “Luce, I needed to say…there’s not much time, but I lov—”

There was a sharp beep, and the line went dead.

~ To be continued ~

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