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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

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For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents.

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside.

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream.

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high.

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face.

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep.

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating.

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head.

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe.

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment.

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian.

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist.

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said.

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body.

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional.

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks.

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her).

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath.

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not.

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together.

There’s no one he’d rather do this with.

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #thought a lot abt what the favor could be but i could not resist the idea of surprise co-parents once i thought of it #here's a kid who clings to someone she knows is safe bc she is scared and alone!!#heres a stressed out hero trying to take care of a kid with no knowledge of how to do that!! and the kid is a ghost!!#heres a ghost king expecting to be used as a weapon and called in for a big battle suddenly finding another halfa!!!#so much going on here. so much to think abt with this!!!!!#i do love found family like this where they all kinda stumble into it and do their best to make it good #also could not resist making yet another oc. chelsea has my whole heart i love her <3 shes my daughter first #the bats dont know abt chelsea yet!! bc she can go invisble. its all been instinct every time they pop over to visit duke #soon she'll be able to control it and meet them properly #by properly i mean dukes gonna go over for sunday brunch and a little girl is gonna pop out from behind him like 'hi! im new!'#they will all love her of course. they will be shocked but happy!!#and a little less happy abt the GHOST KING duke has been hiding in his apartment that hes co-parenting with #sorry for the long tags im obsessed w this idea i want to Expand on it #maybe one day... with my other wips out of the way...

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pickledpascal · 5 months

Text

Staring Into the Blue

Pairing: Beau Arlen and Surrogate Daughter OC (Andi)

Warnings: self-worth issues, emotional hurt/comfort, andi has daddy issues and is hating life a little

A/N: i made this when i was half delirious/asleep and started thinking of my own relationship with my parents sooooo yeah... have fun with this one lol

Word Count: 2.2k

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Beau was new to this whole thing. As was Andi.

Andi was a nineteen-year-old girl who, for all intents and purposes, was Beau’s surrogate daughter. Emily still had a place in his heart, and always would, but Andi was… a special case.

They had met when she was eighteen, freshly in college, and had one too many drinks one night which landed her in detainment, and ultimately had a talk with the sheriff. Being intoxicated, Beau’s initial rant about her needing to take better care of herself and how underage drinking was bad was undermined by Andi spilling her guts to him. Metaphorically speaking.

Andi didn't have parents. At least, not ones who cared about her all that much. As soon as she turned eighteen, they promptly threw her out of the house. Sure they had helped her get into college but they didn't care what happened after. Glad to get her out.

So Beau took her in. Gave her a home. Loved her.

It was all so much for Andi. And made her think about her real parents. How happy they were without her. How happy they were not acknowledging they kicked their child out of their house to fend for herself just to be picked up and loved by a stranger. Beau didn't know her parents—he wasn't her honorary uncle or even a real uncle. He was the sheriff of Helena and a pretty good one at that.

It took a while but Beau convinced Andi to live with him instead of the housing on campus. A month or so into Andi’s hopefully permanent stay at Beau’s house—he upgraded from the airstream but it was parked in his yard—it was nearly midnight when he woke up to soft music filtering into his room. Beau ran a hand through his hair and screwed his eyes shut for a moment before he sat up. That had to be Andi. And he felt compelled to check in on her.

Beau left his room and made his way to Andi’s, the music getting louder with each step he took. Which made him more and more concerned.

I waited ages to see you there

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that you never cared

You're on your own, kid

You always have been

Just outside her door, Beau heard the faint noise of sniffling. Andi had been crying. His heart sunk in his chest. He knocked on the door. No answer. Beau pursed his lips as he turned the door handle. The sight behind it made his heart ache.

Under the low light of Andi’s blue fairy lights was her, sobbing on the floor as she hugged her knees to her chest. Her glasses were abandoned on her bed with teardrop marks on the lenses.

I see the great escape

So long, Daisy May

I picked the petals, he loves me not

Something different bloomed

Writing in my room

I play my songs in the parking lot

I'll run away

Beau rushed to be by her side, cradling her head as it lay on his chest. He set his chin on top of her head, rubbing her shoulder to try and soothe her. It seemed the tears rushed faster as he did. “I gotcha, I gotcha. It's okay.” He shushed softly.

Andi clung onto Beau like a lifeline, crying into his chest and getting tears on his shirt. He didn't care. He wanted Andi to be okay. And if that meant he had to hold onto her like this then he didn't care.

He petted her hair and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “It's alright. I'm here.” Beau resisted the urge to cry too. He had never seen Andi like this before, even when they met. “Please tell me what's wrong.” Beau insisted softly, pulling Andi away from him for a moment. Her skin felt cold. He didn't like this.

Andi sniffled, rubbing her eyes. “I…” She wanted to. She really did, but it was hard.

“You know me, sweetheart, I'm not gonna judge. Okay?” Beau cupped Andi’s cheek. He could sense she was hesitant. Their relationship was fresh but Andi trusted him enough with other stuff. Enough to live with him.

A new wave of tears rolled down Andi’s cheeks. “I know.” Her voice was small. Her eyes screwed shut as a sad smile crossed her face. “God, I wish my real parents were like you.” She admitted with a harbored breath. “My dad especially. I-I don't understand what I did wrong. What I did to deserve what they did to me. Was I not enough? Was it because I was a girl? He and my brothers were fine. He-He never–” A choked sob escaped her.

Beau frowned, pulling her back into his chest. He closed his eyes as he drew in a deep breath.

“He never told me loved me.” Andi cried into his chest, voice muffled. “Never told me he was proud of me. I-I don't understand. He's my dad, i-isn’t he supposed to love me? That's his job.”

Beau felt a few tears stinging his eyes as well. He couldn't imagine being that type of person. That type of father. He loved Emily so much it hurt sometimes. Andi too. To be the type of father to, quite frankly, never pay attention to his child was an alien concept to him. One that was very much real. And one that saddened Beau.

He squeezed Andi tighter and pulled her into his lap. She was heavier than what he was used to but it didn't matter. What mattered was comforting her as much as possible. He didn't know if he could ever change her mind about her self-worth, at least, not in the moment. But this kind of touch would help. He hoped it would.

After a while, Andi’s tears died down and Beau brushed away the hairs from her face. He even wiped some tears away. “I know I can't… just replace your dad, as unfortunate as that sounds. You had eighteen years with him. That won't just disappear. But I can try to help ease some of that pain, show you what a real parent should be like.” Beau whispered softly. “I love you as I would my own daughter. I'll be so proud of you at your concert next week, I'll clap and cheer so loud they might have to kick me out. I love you.”

Andi sniffled. The words meant so much to her and she knew Beau was telling the truth. He had a record to back it up. He never missed one of her recitals, a soccer game she had, or an event she really wanted to go to.

Before she ever moved in, Beau was Andi’s plus one to a lot of things. A chaperone in some sense but Beau just loved seeing her smile. They went to a few markets around the city with her college friends, saw quite a few movies in his airstream, and—at the end of the day—he would always give her a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you too.” Andi breathed. It was the first time she'd said it back.

Beau had a habit of slipping it behind a sentence or saying it when they said goodbye. Andi didn't mind. She liked hearing it. But she had never said it back or even said it first. Beau was okay with that. He wanted to earn it.

And he did.

It was bittersweet, though. He was glad but his heart still ached. All he wanted was to take all that hurt from Andi and throw it in a locked box somewhere. Maybe throw that into the depths of the ocean. But he couldn’t. And it pained him that he couldn't. Andi didn't deserve those sorry excuses of parents. And maybe she didn't deserve Beau either but he was going to try.

Beau hugged her close, closing his eyes as he rocked her side to side. Andi wrapped her arms around Beau’s torso. Her breathing calmed as she nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck.

It was silent for a while, her music had died down a while ago into a soft instrumental. “Sweetheart?” Beau asked softly. He had a small, but hopefully effective, idea

“Hm?” Andi hummed. She felt a little better hence the crying stopped but there was still an emptiness in her chest.

“Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Beau knew it was a tactic mostly used for little kids. Where if he could squeeze her tight enough that would make everything better. But Andi was legally an adult so he wasn't completely sure.

Andi bit the inside of her lip and drew in a small breath. Her parents didn't do this when she was sad. Hell, her parents barely even noticed when she was sad. She simply nodded.

Beau lifted the covers over Andi before he got in bed next to her. She held onto Beau. He quickly did the same.

Andi was an adult. But not really. She was a child who had never felt like she had any real comfort in her life until Beau came along. Andi wasn't even sure she could pinpoint a time she was genuinely happy in a while. Physical comfort didn't fix everything but it sure helped a lot. She didn't get that much as a child but she did now.

Beau was so affectionate that it almost made Andi cry. Small things like a touch on her shoulder as he left or a kiss on her forehead. Hell, a simple thumbs-up while she was on stage made Andi feel so warm. And so loved.

That was part of the reason this whole mess started in the first place. Andi loved Beau and wouldn't trade him for the world but a part of her wondered why her father couldn't be like him so she didn't need to have Beau in the first place. Why couldn't he be the type of father that supported his child? Who made it known that he was proud of her every day even if it could be a little embarrassing? Who hugged her every single time they met after they were apart?

Beau rubbed Andi’s back, playing with her hair. He found that it calmed her after a while. “I can stay home tomorrow. We can watch Book of Life, make fresh brownies, and have ‘em with ice cream.” He suggested softly.

Book of Life was her favorite movie. And warm brownies with vanilla ice cream was one of her comfort foods. She didn't eat it often.

“Okay,” Andi mumbled, a soft smile making its way onto her lips. “I would be a sorry excuse for an older sister.”

Beau’s eyebrows furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

Emily and Andi knew of each other but they hadn't quite met yet since Emily still lived with Carla in Texas and she hadn't made her way up to Montana to see her father in a while. He knew adoption was off the table but he was as close to a father as Andi could have, ultimately making her family. And making her and Emily sisters.

Andi shook her head. “Forget I said that.” Beau pursed his lips, glancing down at her. She let out a breath through her nose. “I just… I'm the youngest in my family anyway and—I dunno—I don't feel right. I guess. I'm not a role model. I'm not–”

“I think you are.” Beau cut in. He hated when Andi talked bad about herself which unfortunately happened a lot. “You have your hands in a lot of different clubs, you excel in your classes, and you fight for what's right.” Beau hugged Andi close. “We can work on it feeling right but… You're a far better role model than me.”

Andi scoffed. Beau may not have been open about everything that happened in his life but, for a middle-aged man, it was far better than any other man Andi had ever encountered before. He was affectionate with just about everyone in his life, co-workers, friends, Andi’s friends, Carla, and Emily. Maybe Beau wasn't perfect but he was already doing better than Andi’s father.

Beau thought Andi drifted off to sleep until she said, “I'm glad you're in my life.” He could tell she was trying to starve off sleep by the sound of her voice.

“Me too.” Beau admitted softly, an absentminded smile on his face.

Beau thought Emily was the limit to his love. But then Andi came along and suddenly there was more love to give. There was no rationing of his heart, it only grew. And he couldn't fathom it for a while. Andi wasn't his child, not biologically, but he loved her as if she was.

With Emily away, it was hard for Beau to function properly. That was his daughter and she was hours and hours away. Of course, it still was but it was a little easier with Andi. He thought the world of her and couldn't comprehend how she didn't think the same.

If Beau ever did meet Andi's parents, he couldn't imagine it'd go well. He'd likely end up in a detainment cell while Andi's father ended up in the ICU.

#jensen ackles x oc #jensen ackles #supernatural #spn #big sky season 3 #big sky s3 #big sky #beau arlen x oc #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen #which one is it? oc or reader... we'll never know #beau arlen x daughter reader #beau arlen and daughter relationship #father daughter relationship #whump writing #fluff

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