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shirtlesssammy · 6 years

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1x19: Provenance

Now:

We open to a fancy couple admiring an olde tyme portrait they recently won at a charity auction. They won it, loved it SO much they ran home and hung it above their fireplace first thing --didn’t even change out of their fancy clothes. That’s love, folks! The wife finds the family in the photograph to be a bit creepy, but it seems to turn the husband on.

They decide to take the evening into the bedroom. As the husband locks up, we watch the father in the photograph move his head! The house gets darker, the music gets creepier, the straight razor in the photo gets missing-er. The wife calls for the husband to hurry, and the husband strips as he heads to bed. He starts to crawl into bed in the pitch black but recoils and turns on the light to find his wife dead and blood everywhere! He falls to the floor, turning to see something off screen, and screams!

Sam and Dean are enjoying some downtime at a bar. Well, Dean’s enjoying it, but Sam’s busy doing research. Dean wants a bit of shore leave (omg, that’s all he ever wants but the life keeps reeling him back in. DEAN.) He tries helping Sam hook up with one of the women he’s talking to, but Sam is not interested.

So much is said --and not said-- with this exchange. Dean’s trying to make Sam feel better then only way Dean knows how, but it’s the exact opposite of what Sam wants (Just wait Sammy, older brother’s got your back.) He does want to hunt though and he caught a case. Couple, throats slashed in own home. Their dad’s journal(!) notes a pattern in history. Time to check it out. Dean wants a little more time with the ladies at the bar before they head out though. I don’t necessarily miss this part of Dean, but he is one charming motherfucker.

The next morning, while Dean sleeps off the night before, Sam sweeps the couple’s home and comes up with nothing. It’s free of the supernatural and all of the couple’s belongings. They head to the auction house to investigate. (Sidenote, love the tracking shot of the cars, and Baby all muddy and vintage at the end!)

Ah, because I’ve never fully bought the blue-collar vibe we’re supposed to take from Sam and Dean, when it’s highlighted it strikes me more than usual. Dean is out of his element at the auction house. Sam is not. (But Dean is also smart and can read people and read a room.)

They’re wearing their overshirts and Carthartts though and stick out like a sore thumb to Daniel Blake, the auction house owner.

The brothers start to look over all the pieces up for auction, and Sam sees the portrait --and he sees Sarah Blake, the proprietor's daughter, and an intellectual rival that stirs Sam’s heart.

Sarah and Sam make heart eyes. Dean notices said heart eyes. I had heart eyes all over this moment.

Daniel Blake breaks up the little party and tells the brothers to leave. They head to the motel and Jerry Wanek went a little overboard with the decorating this week.

Sam gives Dean a lesson on provenances and how they could use them to track the pieces of art--see if they match with the past. Dean suggests Sam call Sarah to get the information.

Sam and Sarah get that dinner (and Sam’s bang game is STRONG.)

Sam’s wine ordering game? Not so strong. (Um, I know he was studying a lot and I guess he’s just a doofus white college boy so maybe wine country wouldn’t be that interesting to him but he lived in wine country adjacent land for four years. You picked up nothing, Sam Winchester?) Sarah bails him out and orders “a beer.” Lol, fancy place only has one kind probs.

They bond over college and lack of dating, and loss of loved ones (Well, Sam can’t quite talk about it. SAMMY.) Sarah’s speech about losing her mom and going into a safe shell kind of hurt --like, has Sam ever left his shell?

Back at the motel, it’s revealed that Sarah just handed the provenances over to Sam (and I’d like to discuss Dean acting like he doesn’t have a spot on memory and flubbing the word again...Sam’s getting leads and taking control in this case. Do you think Dean’s trying to help him feel better by encouraging him this way?)

Sam finds that the portrait is the link to all the murders. They break into the auction house (and young Dean can scale a fence like a ninja) and salt and burn the portrait.

Easy-peasy. The rest of the episode is just Sam and Sarah making googly eyes at each other. The end.

Oh, wait. NM.

The next morning, Dean realizes that he dropped his wallet at the auction house. They rush over there before it opens. Sarah finds them --and they’re both adorkable dorks. Sam feeds her the line of them leaving town, but Dean steps in an insists they’re sticking around for a bit. Heehee. Also, he found his wallet. Sarah suggests another date. Sam shuts it down. Frowny Face. He also sees the portrait they burned the night before! His “Oh my God!” cracked me up. His panic over the painting is pretty gold, insisting that they don’t sell it and hightailing it out of there to alert Dean of this new development. They decide they need to learn everything about the family in the painting.

To the library!

(Or bookstore or something?) The man helping them dumps a lot of information about the family. It seems the whole family was murdered, bodies cremated.

Meanwhile, Daniel Blake sells the painting anyway.

Sam points out some differences to the painting in a book and the real one. Dean reveals that he’s a very savvy reader when he admits to not reading The DaVinci Code. (Natasha: LOL) The brothers also talk about Sam’s reticence on forming a connection with Sarah. Sam doesn’t see the point --they’re just going to leave anyway. Dean thinks Sarah could be good for Sam. Sam’s evasive eye roll says he knows that to be true as well. Sam Winchester, king of running away from Dealing With It. For once, Dean is earnest and trying to find a way to help Sam. There were some walls broken down this evening, guys.

In the end, they need Sarah for the painting, so Sam calls her again, and finds out it was already sold.

At the buyer Evelyn’s house, our next victim sits in her chair and reads a book while the creepy family portrait gazes down at her from above the mantle. (Seriously what is it about this painting that makes people hang this IMMEDIATELY in their cozy living spaces?) The father in the painting moves again and a straight razor lifts into the air…

Outside, the Impala and Sarah’s van pull up like a swat team arriving on site. All three sprint into the house and find Evelyn nearly decapitated, still sitting primly in her seat. Sarah manages the presence of mind to notice the painting has changed (the father is now looking forward), even as she’s freaking the fuck out over finding a dead body.

Back at the Winchesters’ motel, Sarah demands answers. Sam lays out the truth for her. The supernatural is real and there’s something in that painting that’s killing every owner it can reach. Sarah takes this remarkably well and insists that she’ll accompany them on their monster hunt, thank you very much.

Can we take a moment to appreciate Dean’s laptop decoration? Dean, you adorable dork.

“Are we going or what?” Sarah demands about their mission to catch a murdering ghost, heading out the door without them.

“Sam,” Dean says (possibly halfway seriously), “marry that girl.”

Back at the latest victim’s house, they check out the painting, comparing it against the photocopy of the original they got from the book shop. (This is like those puzzle pictures I used to read as a child.) There’s a switchblade opened and closed, the father’s head position has changed, and the painting in the background is different. Now the painting behind our ghosty family features the family mausoleum instead of a placid landscape. Armed with this clue, Sam takes Sarah on a whirlwind date featuring not one - but four local cemetery visits!

The find the mausoleum de Merchant and break inside. The mausoleum features the family’s internment plaques for cremation, urns, and a handful of toys encased behind glass. As they examine the toys, an ominous breeze blows through the crypt. Dean notices that there aren’t enough urns on display. The dad’s cremains are missing.

Sam’s epic dream date continues, as he sits outside of a hospital with Sarah while Dean tries to dig up information about what happened to the dad’s body. Sam picks an eyelash from her cheek and implores her to make a wish. It’s...pretty cute, actually. Sarah takes a moment to press for answers from Sam about their relationship status. Sam’s answer: It’s complicated.

“When people are around me they get hurt,” Sam tells her. He doesn’t want to see the same thing happen to her. (Me: thinks about Sarah’s eventual death in season 8 and cries angry tears.)

I love Sarah’s response to Sam’s “stay away from me for your own good” line. “That’s very sweet, and very archaic,” she tells him. “I’m a big girl, Sam. It’s not your job to make decisions for me.” It starts to get emotional between them when TA DA! Interrupting Dean interrupts.

Dean reports that he’s uncovered the location of the dad’s body. They proceed to literally uncover it, digging out his grave and then salting and burning it while Sarah stands around and holds the flashlight.

Sam and Sarah head into the house to check out the painting. The dad is back to normal but now the little girl is completely gone from it. Uh oh. (Holy parallels to The Real Ghostbusters, Batman.) As Sam realizes the razor is also gone from the painting, a small girl’s evil cackling fills the room. The door slams shut.

Dean tries to open the door from the outside while Sam and Sarah scramble to find salt or iron to fend off the ghost. Enter: small creepy girl ghost dragging her dolly and holding a blade. Sam fumbles for an iron fireplace poker and swats the ghost away.

Sarah uses her antique know-how to bring Sam’s attention to the fact that dolls used to be made with the child’s actual hair. Dean races off to the cemetery and tries to break down the pane encasing the little girl’s doll. Meanwhile, Sam’s getting battered by the ghost (and Sarah’s turning her back on a blade-wielding homicidal ghost to try to help him).

At the mausoleum, Dean tries to bash the pane with the butt of his gun and then realizes...oh wait, he has a gun. He shoots, he scores. Dean bashes away the glass, pulls out his most unreliable lighter, and finally lights the doll on fire just as the girl advances on Sarah with her blade.

The doll’s burned. The girl’s back in the painting. And Sam got to fall onto Sarah during the fight and exchange a Moment. Yay? Sam - because he’s Sam - does not take advantage of this opportunity.

At last they wrap up the case. Sarah orders her people to burn the painting. Sarah and Sam share an awkward goodbye, made slightly less awkward when Dean stops third wheeling it and heads back to the car. Sarah points out that she made it through her Sam encounter alive so...if Sam wanted to see her sometime, then he should. (Boris: I will NEVER forgive Crowley for killing her.) Sam leaves, wistful looks still turned up to 11 but seconds later knocks on the door again. When Sarah opens it, they smile at each other and kiss.

The Da Vinci Quotes:

So what are we today Dean? I mean, are we rock stars, are we army rangers?

Like a Da Vinci Code deal?

We think that that painting is haunted.

This isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?

What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks.

You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this.

We’re there, chuckles.

Oh My God!

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 1x19 #provenance #dean winchester #sam winchester #sarah blake #supernatural season 1

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thewinsisterchronicles · 7 years

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He Didn’t Say Pie

Summary: All Y/N wanted to do was lay back, relax, maybe even watch some Netflix; however, when a shifter accidentally gets into the bunker, she finds out she may need a bit of help from her brothers. She just hopes she can tell the real Winchester from the fake. Word Count: 1936 Warnings: mild gore, some swearing (flashbacks are in italics) A/N: ehhh not my proudest work but it was one of my ideas so I figured why the hell not?? ALSO my dudes requests are open so feel free to hmu and I’ll try to spit out some stuff and see what happens;)

Gun drawn, Y/N stalked silently through the bunker halls. The boys were out hunting, so it wasn’t like she had backup. She was on her own. Y/N took in a deep breath as she leant outside the kitchen entrance, listening to the sounds of someone moving around. Hopefully, when her brothers came back, she’d be alive.

As long as they didn’t shoot her first.

Earlier

Y/N plopped onto Sam’s bed as she logged into her Netflix account. She chose to stay back from the hunt this time- needing some “lady time,” as Dean had put it- due to still being sore from the last one. Ghouls were stronger than she’d initially thought.

Sam and Dean had left two days ago, helping out another hunter with a demon problem the next town over. Nothing too big, so Y/N had figured that she could let them take it over. They’d be fine.

She was about to click the next episode of How to Get Away with Murder when the sound of the door slamming shut resounded throughout the bunker. Frowning, she checked her phone. The boys were doing a case close by, she knew that, but this was too early for them to be back. They were good, but not that good.

She sat up, reaching into Sam’s bedside table for the gun she knew he kept there. Checking the bullets, she walked towards the library. The only thing to be heard were her padding footsteps and soft breaths as Y/N entered the map room. Checking the stairwell, she saw the room was empty. She was about to turn around when something caught her eyes.

Walking around the table, Y/N kneeled to inspect the blob of- whatever- was on the floor. Grabbing the knife on the table, she poked at the icky substance.

“Shifter,” she mumbled quietly, standing up. Can I do this on my own? She thought as she headed down to Dean’s room. It looks like only one shifter, but the boys will kill me if I don’t tell them. Entering his room, she dismissed the thought from her mind. If it got bad, she’d call them. Grabbing Dean’s cartridge of silver bullets and his silver knife, she checked for her phone.

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath. Must have left it when I was eating, she sighed heavily, heading towards the kitchen.

She just hoped the shifter was unaware of her presence.

Y/N whipped to face the noise, only to meet Dean.

“Hello,” he snarled.

Not Dean.

“Hey,” she replied coldly. “Couldn’t have morphed into someone better looking? I mean, come on. Co-dependent older brothers are so last season.”

“Well I wanted the ‘worthless and annoying younger sister’ outfit, but you took the last one,” he countered. Y/N glared, tightening the grip on her gun as she stalked closer.

“While I admit your comebacks are better than his,” she said slowly, heading towards where here phone was thankfully hidden from his line of sight. “You aren’t the one holding a gun.”

“True,” he agreed. “But are you really willing to shoot your brother? The one you look up to?”

“You aren’t my brother,” she snapped back.

“If that were the truth, you would’ve pulled the trigger already,” he pointed out. Y/N grit her teeth. He had a point.

“That aside,” she commented. “I’m afraid I’ll have to either kill you or tie you down. I don’t want any incidents, and I’m genuinely curious as to how you got in here.”

“The mystery is part of the fun,” he smirked. Y/N let her grip falter for a moment, but not long before the shifter threw a knife at her. She tried to dodge it, but it pierced her thigh. Grimacing, she grabbed her phone off the table and shot at him as he ran out of the room, lodging the bullet in the heel of his boot, before letting out a breath of pain. Hastily, she tapped on the first contact that appeared.

“Hey Sam,” she huffed in pain. “So, I’ve got a bit of a situation here at the bunker.”

Now

Y/N had somehow managed to get back to her room without creating a big trail of blood. She’d limped down the hallway, three rags tied around her thigh to prevent any crimson stains leading the shifter to her. Sighing heavily, she checked her gun, knives, and then grabbed the first aid kit under her bed. Opening it up, Y/N checked its contents. Just her luck; there was barely enough gauze and antiseptic to clean her injury.

Wrapping up her gash, she tied it off before hearing footsteps outside her door. Quickly, Y/N pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Wincing, she grabbed her gun and stalked towards the door. She couldn’t be certain, but it sounded like two people.

Taking a deep breath, she swung open the door and faced the source of the noise- only to face what she could only assume were her brothers. Training her eyes on them, she squinted. They looked at each other, having one of their silent conversations that she could read right through.

“I’m going to grab my knife,” Y/N explained slowly. “Then once I prove myself, you two are going to do the same.” Trying not to make any sudden movements, she took one hand off her gun- which she held upright at ‘Dean’- and reached for her knife in her boot. Bringing it up to her arm, she sliced her soft skin. Grimacing, she put it back. “Your turn.”

‘Sam’ reached into his jacket and pulled out a blade similar to Y/N’s. He deftly mimicked her actions before passing it onto ‘Dean,’ who copied.

“Good,” Y/N huffed as she lowered her gun. She barely had time to tuck it back in her waistband before her brothers had rushed towards her, inspecting her. Chuckling lightly, she lifted her arms, exposing her body for them to check over.

“What happened?” Sam asked, looking at her with eyes filled with concern. “Did you deal with him?”

“Nah,” she sighed in defeat. “He’s still around here somewhere. Met him in the kitchen trying to grab my phone to call you guys. We-” she stopped, flinching when she remembered her injury. “Well, we should probably continue in my room. Standing hurts.” Dean’s eyes snapped back to your retreating figure as you opened your door.

“What do you mean, ‘standing hurts,’ Y/N?” he quizzed. His question was answered when he saw her bed. There was a huge stain of blood in the middle of it. The first aid kit sat aside, mostly empty, and a pair of bloodied ripped jeans were strewn on the floor. He felt his heart jump to his throat.

“Y/N,” Sam asked concernedly. “What happened? Are you-”

“M’fine, Sam,” she said, running a hand down her face. “He got my leg, but I took care of it. It’s nothing. Now all we gotta do is hunt the bastard down.”

“You getting stabbed is not nothing, Y/N.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“You should’ve called us as soon as you knew you weren’t alone.”

“Okay,” she retorted. “First of all, chill. I’m fine. Secondly, I was trying to call you, but there was a little matter of a freaking monster in the kitchen. Now let’s just gank him and move on with our lives.”

“Y/N-” Dean sighed sharply, stepping towards her. Sam quickly intercepted him, stepping between the two of them.

“Dean,” he rushed. “Listen; I get you’re angry- hell, so am I- but don’t take it out on Y/N. Save it for the shifter. As for you,” he turned to Y/N, who had stuck out her tongue at Dean. “You need to lay low while we deal with this.” Y/N gasped.

“What?” she asked, dumbfounded. “Excuse you, but I’m tagging along. The dude stabbed me. Don’t go thinking someone can do that and get away.”

“Damn straight,” Dean chuckled. “But if you’re coming along you stay right by us, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just go. I got a date with Netflix and I can’t cancel again.”

“You got it,” Sam smiled, ruffling her hair. “Stick with me, Y/N. Dean, take the library. We’ve got this end.” Dean nodded, also ruffling Y/N’s hair before drawing his gun and stalking down the hall.

“Ready?” Sam asked. Y/N nodded, taking her gun out.

Silently, they wandered through the halls, checking each room for the shifter.

“Crap,” Y/N suddenly muttered, stopping in her tracks. Sam spun around quickly, gun raised at her.

“What?” he whispered loudly. “What is it?”

“Should’ve told you guys before, but the shifter looks like Dean.”

“That would’ve been helpful.”

“Shut up.”

They continued down the hall, Sam standing protectively in front of Y/N. They had just turned into the kitchen when a clatter arose from the library. Sam didn’t even have a chance to turn to Y/N before he had to chase after her. He turned the corner to find her pointing her gun at two identical Dean Winchester’s, both panting and sporting a bruise or two.

“Great,” he muttered.

“My thoughts exactly, Moose,” Y/N breathed out. “What do we do? I don’t want to accidentally give the shifter a weapon.”

“Well…” he pondered, deep in thought. “We could try to figure it out for ourselves?”

“Great idea, Sammy,” said the Dean on the left. “Let’s ask questions and hope for the best. Really?”

“It’s all we’ve got,” Y/N pointed out. “Care to go first?”

“Okay,” Sam answered uneasily. “Well… oh, uh, when was Bon Jovi formed?”

“1983!” they both exclaimed.

“Great,” Sam grumbled. “Your turn.”

“Er…” Y/N muttered, racking her brain for something. “Oh! What’s your favourite type of cake?”

“Chocolate!” the one of the left shouted excitedly, grinning. He dropped to the ground as Y/N shot his chest.

“Y/N!” Sam shouted. “What did you do?”

“He didn’t say pie,” she said simply, walking over to where the real Dean was standing, shocked.

“You… did know, right?” he asked warily. Y/N laughed.

“Of course, dumbass,” she chuckled, tossing her gun on the table. “I shot his shoe earlier, so I figured out it was him about halfway through Sam’s question. I just wanted to… well, I kinda wanted to screw with you guys.”

“Y/N, you little…” Sam huffed, picking her up from behind. She gasped as he scooped her up.

“Sam!” she squealed. “Put me down!”

“Nope,” he replied casually, carrying her down the hall towards his room. “I’m butting in on that Netflix date you were talking about.”

“Yeah,” Dean called as he followed close behind. “You’re not allowed to date. Like, ever. So we gotta make sure you don’t get into any trouble on this one.”

“What about- oof! - your hunt?” she huffed as Sam dropped her on the bed.

“Finished early,” Dean excused. “Wasn’t as bad as we thought.”

“Ah,” she hummed contentedly. “I see. But I get to choose what we watch. You guys only like to watch old shows. Have a little self-respect.”

“At least we like quality television,” Sam retorted as the eldest Winchester practically sprawled across the bed.

“Yeah, quality television for seniors,” she huffed as Dean laid across her.

“Maybe we could find some soap operas to help lull you asleep for your afternoon nap. There might be some prune juice in the fridge; you can use it to wash down your Viagra.”

Sam chuckled, plopping down beside Y/N and promptly squishing her between the two boys. He laughed when she pretended to faint, playing the next episode of whatever show he landed on, thankful he could simply be with his family.

It wasn’t all that often they got moments like these.

#supernatural #female winchester #winchester #winsister #sister!winchester #sister!reader #reader insert #platonic!samxreader #platonic!deanxreader #fic

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ihunt-therefore-iam-blog · 7 years

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Just a Myth (Part 1)

Synopsis: Sam and Dean go hunting in Texas and encounter a bizarre new monster, Donkey Lady.

Fandom: Supernatural (TV Show)

Timeline: Beginning of Season Two

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam, Winchester, Original Characters

Author’s Notes: I’ve written this story as something that could be envisioned as a SPN episode during seasons 1 - 3. This story takes place two months after John Winchester’s death. The “monster” in this story, Donkey Lady, is an actual folklore originating from San Antonio, Texas. Google it if you’re interested - it’s a creepy tale.

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“Donkeys? Hell, that’s a good one Sam. As if this job can’t get any weirder – why not just go hunt a Donkey Lady? Heck, give me a vampire any day, I’ll slice its friggin’ head off.”

“I know dude. But we take what we can get, right? And someone’s got to get to the bottom of this, especially with three deaths in three weeks. Look, it’ll be a nice change of pace.”

Dean shuffled his feet and grumbled. “Fine, get packing. San Antonio is 6 hours from here. And our next case better be about ganking vampires.” He walked off, leaving Sam to gather their things while he started the car.

“So.” Dean drummed on the steering wheel before glancing out the window at the endless fields in Texas. “Was there anyone before Jessica?”

“What?” Sam woke with a jolt, halfway between sleep and consciousness, he hit his head as the car traveled over a bump. Dean smirked.

“You know. Were there other girls that you were with in college…or was she the first?”

Sam looked out the window. Twilight was falling and the little sleep he had gotten in the past few months was finally catching up with him. “Yeah, one. Freshman year at orientation. She broke up with me though.”

Dean let out a low whistle. “What did you do?

“Studied too much I guess. She was very into the typical college experience and surprisingly that did not involve spending Friday nights at the library with me.” Sam said with a bitter smile.

“Really Sam? How much did you actually enjoy your college experience? You never partied it up with the sorority girls or went to one of those dages or anything? Heck, I’d be all over that.”

“Dages? You actually know what that is?” Sam, amused, sat up straight and looked at Dean.

“Oooh, Sammy. The beautiful things I’ve seen. I’ve lived more of that college experience than you ever did.” Dean grinned and shook his head.

“Oh, you mean when dad wasn’t chaperoning you on hunts?”

Dean didn’t respond. Sam, quickly realizing what he said, sighed and looked at the time. It was almost 9.

Dean broke the silence, “What do you say to some grub? Looks like Roxie’s Diner is 10 miles from here. We can stop and eat and then it’s 3 hours to San Antonio.”

“Sounds like a plan”. Sam said.

It was almost one in the morning when they checked into the motel in San Antonio. Dean crashed immediately, his snores carrying through the room while Sam browsed the internet looking for more information on this “Donkey Lady”. It had been two months since their dad’s funeral and sleep was still an elusive creature for him. Days melted into nights which burned into days. Sleep graced him in snatches of time and punished him with nightmares. He would awake in a layer of sweat with images of that horrific car crash plastered into his brain leading into the yellow-eyed demon laughing at him. No, it was better that he avoid sleep.

“She was left with her hands and feet looking like hooves after her fingers and toes burned off. The fire had ravaged the beautiful mother, taking away her two children and leaving her with a tragically disfigured body. Driven insane by her loss, the woman was banished from the town due to her crazy rantings and went to live under a bridge where she continues to haunt passersby ‘til this day.”

“That’s a sad tale”. Sam muttered while he clicked through the “Urban Legends of Texas” site. He found numerous comments from visitors mentioning their sightings with various creatures and just one comment for the Donkey Lady which said “tragic story…hope she found some peace”.

It appeared to be a simple salt and burn case – Donkey Lady had returned from the dead, haunting the vicinity of her bridge, and killing people to satiate her unfulfilled rage and grief. They would find Donkey Lady’s remains and dispatch her to the afterlife and then Dean could go back to hunting his vampires. It sounded too good to be true but Sam was too tired to think about all that.

He closed his laptop and headed out for a walk.

“Fuck! Fucking Texas drivers – never looking where they go. He almost scratched my baby, the damn son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, outraged as he narrowly avoided hitting a car who had decided to take a left turn in front of them.

“Dude, everything is fine. Let’s focus.” Sam said. They were sitting in the Impala, posing as US Fish and Wildlife Service, headed towards a witness interview. Dean grumbled. Being in his skin was harder to do these days – his whole personality was amped up to 3x. Annoyance, hunger, disgust, anger – all of it came quickly and easily. The ache had set deep into his bones and the worst was when he remembered that he was still here while John was down there.

“So Millicent Desmond was just 21 when the fire happened. Husband nowhere to be found, two dead kids, and the fire rendered her unrecognizable.” Sam said.

“Woah, hold up. Just 21? How old were the kids?”

“5 and 2. Millicent seems to have been a teenage mother but then again, this was the 50s where an early marriage was the norm.”

“Ok. Tragic life, yada yada – everyone has one but we don’t go around murdering people. Let’s get to the good bit. Where is she buried?”

“Can’t find that part anywhere – I guess she really did drop off the grid when she went to live under the bridge? Who would have thought?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Isn’t that perfect? Why do you want to interview this girl then? It seems to me like a simple ghost case that a salt and burn will take care of once we find the remains.”

“Because I’m not convinced. All the reports seem to describe the Donkey Lady like an animalistic creature. I get that being an angry, vengeful spirit can turn you into something else but to transform into something inhumanly different? I’m just not convinced. Not yet.”

“Alright Sam. Have at it.” Dean pulled up in front of the house and they got out. They walked up the steps to the small ranch house and rang the bell.

A young woman answered the door and ushered them inside. She offered them a seat before sitting down. Smoothing her blue wrap dress down with her manicured nails, she crossed her legs.

She had gone on a camping trip with a group of friends where one of them was attacked after going off alone in the forest. After hearing his desperate screams, they had run to find him and encountered a horrifying, vicious creature that caused them to bolt.

“It looked like a woman – kinda like an old hag with long scraggly hair. Honestly, I was so scared, I just bolted out of there. The hands though – gosh, it must have been an animal. How could a person have hooves? I’m sorry, you must think I’m crazy.”

“No, absolutely not. We’ve seen a lot of things most people wouldn’t believe. It’s a part of the job. We investigate all kinds of wildlife and protect endangered species, if need be.”

“Endangered?! That thing brutally murdered one of my friends. It growled at us!” She said as if it was the most impolite thing in the world. “And if we hadn’t bolted out of there, it would have mauled us too.” Serena’s eyes darted towards the floor. “And that was my first time camping, it ruined me for my life.” Looking at her perfectly made up face and manicured nails, Sam didn’t find that hard to believe. “Officer, you should be protecting people like us – find the creature and put it down.”

“Damn straight”, Dean replied. He looked at Sam who sighed.

“We do what we can and part of that is conducting a complete investigation. We’ll take your experience into full consideration.” Sam said. Dean gave him the side-eye.

They thanked her for their time and she ushered them out. As Sam headed towards the car, she stopped Dean. She leaned in close so he could smell her flowery perfume and she thanked him for wanting to protect civilians like her. Squeezing his hand, she asked him to drop by sometime.

Sam looked back and chuckled. He settled into the passenger seat, staring out at the suburban landscape, and then on a whim, flipped open his phone and scrolled through the contacts searching for that one name… He found it. Staring at it, he couldn’t shake the urge to call. He hit dial.

#supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #the idea just popped into my head #i know there's no smut #but i hope it's good?#i enjoyed writing it at least

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